32 weeks and counting.

With only 8 weeks to go until the little guy's due date, I gotta say, I am starting to feel a little overwhelmed. We picked up the nursery furniture on Saturday (despite The Bay's best efforts to make that impossible...long boring story) and Jennifer also came to Oakville for the weekend to co-host my baby shower with Stephanie. Jennifer and I got in a day full of girl fun (aka "things Scott won't do with me") which included Japanese food at Sushi Niwa, (where I apparently mortified the woman sitting behind us with talk of circumcision and regaling the details of recent attempts at being intimate where I broke into tears exclaiming "I feel like a beached whale"). We also went to H & M, rented "In Her Shoes", caught up on gossip, all things baby, and Jennifer's new book. Lucky for Scott, he escaped this by going away for a night of male bonding with his buddies which involved copious amounts of beer, poker, and chest thumping. I think he feels like he better get his fill before he officially becomes a dad and his life ends. Funny how men and women prepare for parenthood different. Me, I am researching nursing pillows and getting the carpets cleaned. Scott, not so much.
So, the shower. Ahh, the shower. It was wonderful! Stephanie appeared at our house around 11:30am with Shane and Charlotte in tow, arms laden with decorations and cake and punch ingredients. She and Jennifer went to work and decorated (crazy Monkey theme!) and got the house ready. Scott reappeared from his man cave excursion to pick up our Toronto friends from the GO station (bloggers Adam, Chris and Lulu, non-blogger Karem). Shane entertained Charlotte and helped move heavy things. And then people started arriving. Our little house filled up quickly with friends and presents.

We were completely spoiled (gifts included everything from a breast pump, baby bath and ducky towel set, lots of super cute and stylin' clothes, books (that crinkle!), albums, designer diaperbag, robeez shoes, diapering essentials and nipple cream (gasp!). And there was cake - have I mentioned my love of cake? Also, Stephanie made this super yummy punch that had pineapple juice and raspberries and it was terrific. Almost made me not miss wine. Almost. Scott and I are very blessed to have such wonderful supportive friends.

Yesterday we had another ultrasound to check out the little guy. We confirmed that he is still a he. His heartbeat (156 beats per minute!) is strong, and he weighs about 4 pounds (so we are on track for a 7 poundish baby). Good stuff. We saw him wiggle his eyebrows, and he waved his fingers at us. He is officially in "head down" position, which my sad little flattened bladder can attest to. So now we wait while he cooks a bit longer. This weekend we have baby classes on Saturday and Sunday where we will learn baby things. Not sure exactly what - I hear tell of things like bathing your baby, burping your baby, and we were told to bring 2 pillows and a blanket, which sounds a bit ominous, if you ask me. What have we gotten ourselves into?

McDreamy vs. McSteamy.

Goodness, Grey's Anatomy sure is going hard on the cliff hangers (you had me at hello!). Let's see, since the infamous Superbowl Shower Scene show, they have ended with Meredith holding a bazooka in some dude's chest, had one action packed bomb exploding extravaganza (with a baby to boot), and now we are left with Meredith peeling George's clothes off him? Wowza. Doesn't take much to get that girl on her back (whachoosay!). My main thoughts about this week's show include:

- McSteamy looked like an older, beefier, hawter version of Leonardo DiCaprio - and if I were Madison, I wouldn't stick around waiting for Derek to forgive my cheatin' ass, I'd be back in NYC with McSteamy who actually loves me and wants me

- I loved the Preston and Cristina dancing scene (nice ipod advertisement...), but I loved it even more when Preston gave her the "I am Preston Burke speech". He is so fine...especially when he is acting all indignant and put upon

- I am still in shock about Meredith gettin' jiggy with George, she is going to break his heart and make things super awkward at work. I think she was so sad from seeing her father she let George's promise of never leaving her win her over, but man, this is going to be some drama...brings to mind the phrase "don't shit where you eat" as in, don't bring the craziness into your household or your workplace Meredith!

Okay, now that I got THAT out of my system -
The SNIPPITY SNIP DEBATE

Up until yesterday morning, I thought that Scott and I had decided to have the little guy circumcised. Mind you, I have always felt the decision was Scott's to make (what do I know about having a penis?). The only opinion I offered was from a "aesthetics" point of view (which is biased because it's all I know), and also the fact that with part of my family being Jewish, most of the men I am related to have in fact been "cut" for religious reasons.

Well, let me tell you, Scott went and done changed his mind! Seems like Scott did some reading (damn internet) and found out that not only is there no proof that circumcision has any medical benefits, but the rate of circumcision in Canada has been dropping steadily in the past ten years. In fact, in 2003, only 12 - 13% of baby boys in Canada were circumcised. I was a bit surprised that this issue was back on the table, so I emailed my best friend Jennifer, asking her what Lisa, her boss at Octopus had done (she is known to be informed in the matters of childbirth and little boys). I promptly received the following email from her:

Lisa says Elliot is not circumcised and this is why:

1. She says, "My friends all had boys and only one of them circumcised her kid and she said it was the worst day of her life. You've spent nine months making this perfect baby and then you cut his skin off."

2. The arguments for circumcision usually go like this: a) it's cleaner, fewer infections - this is not true, no one I or Lisa knows with an uncircumcised child has ever had any trouble. b) his penis should look like his Dad's so he doesn't feel weird - Lisa says, "By the time his penis looks at all like his dad's he's going to be too old to be looking at his Dad's penis anyway."

3. Basically Lisa says there's just no good reason to do it.

And you're right, it is getting to be less and less common as the years go by. No one's going to be laughing at your little boy's penis in the locker room. Like you said, most little boys are uncircumcised these days.

Whew. That's a lot of penis talk for one e-mail.

She's right...that is a lot of penis talk! I'm not really looking for anyone else's opinion on the matter, but if you'd like to comment, feel free.

By the way - I am 31 weeks today (9 more to go!).

A hard choice to make.

Bossa's recent health problems have brought to light that having two cats is a bit unmanageable. Especially with a newborn on the way, something has to give. We haven't wanted to face it though, mostly because as much as her nickname is "Captain Bitchface", we love her dearly. I have had her since she was a kitten (she'll be 10 years old this summer) and Scott is very attached to her as well (he is the main cat caregiver in our house, the "dad" if you will).
The main challenge is that she and our other cat Samba have to be separated because Bossa refuses to accept her. This has been going on for over five years and means we are always monitoring both cats, Samba is held prisoner on the top floor of our home, and Bossa is in a constant state of agitation which plays out in different ways that I won't go into here. As I said to Scott last night, "if you are frustrated now, thing of how you will feel when you are going on 2 hours of sleep, have a screaming newborn to contend with, and you have to deal with Bossa too?". While Scott won't be the one to make the tough decision to find her a new home, at this point he has agreed that it is time. So I need to be the heavy, make the rational decision here and pull the trigger.

I wouldn't have even considered letting someone else take Bossa if I didn't know she would be in awesome hands, and hopefully in a situation that would make her happier than where she is now. But a while back, my dear friend Alana offered to take Bossa, and I can't think of a better place for her. See, Alana loves pets, is kind, fun, has a wonderful home, 2 sons, and in her home, Bossa would be the only cat. It may actually work. I include the caveat that if it doesn't work, we will take Bossa back and work on another solution. But I am praying it does work so that I can feel good about this decision and that it's a win-win for everyone.

Last night as I was laying in bed, I started thinking of all the things I needed to tell Alana about Bossa, and I started to feel really sad. There is so much to know, I hadn't even realized it until I started making a mental list.

Things about Bossa:

- she is afraid of the wind
- she likes to sleep on the hot air vent
- when you are sitting down to eat dinner, she will come in the room and give herself a bath, just to be with you, yet still ignoring you
- when you sit on the couch, she will come sit next to you, with her back to you, but leaning into you with all her weight
- she likes to lay in the sun
- she will ask to be let outside, even if it is -10 out, when you open the door she will look at you like "whachoo thinkin' crazy lady? It's too damn cold out there!"
- she likes to eat grass, but you can't let her eat too much because it will make her sick
- she will always complain at you when you empty the dishwasher
- if you are in the kitchen, it must mean that you are there to feed her
- she will greet you at the door like a dog
- she doesn't like to be picked up, but she will tolerate it for a while
- she won't bite you or scratch you (unless you are tormenting her, and even then she gives a warning hiss to let you know "this ain't cool, bitch")
- if she is outside (and you can only put her outside if you are out there with her because she is an indoor cat) but you can't get her to come inside, just shake her food container and she will come running in, at night, use a flash light on her and she will run in the house
- she doesn't have the hops she used to, and if she wants up on something high, she will look at you and meow so you know to lift her up
- she doesn't like other cats and will have a fit if one comes near the house (actually very entertaining)
- she likes to be scratched behind the ears, and she likes belly rubs (but only for a minute or so)
- it's hard to cut her claws - you have to get her when she is relaxed and you start with the front ones, wait a day or so and do the back ones
- she has beautiful eyes, even when she looks like she is eating your soul
- she is very pretty, and she knows it
- if you leave a cupboard open she will go inside to explore, deep kitchen drawers are also excellent
- she is smarter than the average cat
- she likes to wash her paws in her water fountain (a regular bowl of water is not good enough for her)
- you can't leave a big bowl of food out for her because she will eat ALL of it
- she likes to hunt little grey cats
- her favourite place to nap is on a kitchen chair, under the table

- we will miss her deeply, but this really is for the best

Le Sigh.

edited to add: Her favourite toy is a golf ball size ball of tinfoil, which she will bat around the house like a crazy cat

Stop looking at my ve-jay-jay!

Hey - happy valentine's day! I know that I have been complaining a lot lately (and rightly so), but I do want to take a few minutes to be positive. Then I will return to my regularly scheduled pregnancy symptoms (the peeing, the hiccuping baby in my belly, the fact that I haven't seen my toes in a while...).

Scott, who does not especially care for Valentine's day, bought me roses on Saturday. I consider this Valentine's day in advance. He considers this fiscally responsible. I appreciate flowers on any day, so I am not about to complain. Yesterday, I received a wonderful package from my mom, full of brand new baby clothes for the little guy. He is going to be one stylin' little baby. He got a sweater set (with matching booties and hat), designer Coccoli onesies, wee little t-shirt and pants sets (one that is special for Canada Day), and a little striped set of pyjamas from Old Navy that would break your heart. I think that he will look like a little jailbird when he wears that in his crib.

Tonight we are picking up Thai takeout for dinner. I have already bought our favourite Valentine's day dessert - Love Potion #31 (white chocolate and raspberry ice creams swirled with a raspberry ribbon and loaded with heart shaped raspberry filled cups and chocolate chips). I imagine we will exchange gifts, at least, I know I have a gift for Scott. And by then it will be 9pm and I will need to go to bed so I don't fall over. Ah yes, an exciting, lusty life at 30 weeks pregnant. Only 10 (or so) weeks to go!

Onto the other love of my life - Grey's Anatomy. Did you see the show on Sunday? Holy crap! I was on pins and needles for the entire show. Also, how relieved was I that it was only 10:45pm when that bazooka blew up and knocked Meredith on her ass? I would have hit the ceiling if it had been the end of the show, only to be left hanging for another week. I was disappointed with the whole Derek stopping by her house to see her and the whole "you almost died today" conversation. What he should have said was "when I thought I lost you I realized I have made the wrong decision by staying with Madison and I want to be with you". And then he should have taken her in his arms and kissed her, and then carried her to bed to make sweet sweet love to her little fishstick frame. But the writers want to torture me, and so they keep the lackluster Madison around and we have to be happy with Izzy getting it on (being a "doer") with Alex in the broom closet. Le sigh. Best part of the show - when Dr.Bailey was in labour and George looked up at the mirror and told her the baby was crowing and had a lot of hair and she yelled "Stop looking at my ve-jay-jay". Loller skates!

This just in: If you get too fat...

I swear to the Goddess of Fertility, if one more person makes a comment to me about:

1) how little weight they gained during their pregnancy

or

2) how little weight someone else gained during their pregnancy

I am going to blow a fucking gasket. It seems fucking odd to me that we are so grotesquely obsessed with women's weight in this culture that not even pregnant women get cut a break. In a lot of countries the concern is that mom is not getting enough nutrients for her to grow a healthy baby. But in North America, the fact that you are [shock] gaining weight as you grow another human being inside of your body gives people the right to make completely inappropriate comments under the guise of "making conversation".

So, let's just be clear - to the next person who makes a weight comment to me, our conversation will go something like this:

Person: "So-and-so only gained X number of pounds in her pregnancy." (Inference: Katrina, you are getting really really big and fat.*)

Me: "Well that's good, because I hear if you get too fat, they don't let you keep the baby."

Also while we are on the topic of people saying things they shouldn't, while it is okay for me to joke about the fact that I am a bit hormonal, it is not okay for you to joke about it, or joke about the fact that I joke about it. Got it? /rant.

*I am actually on track to gain exactly the right amount of weight to deliver a healthy baby, so shut the fuck up.

O RLY? QUITE RLY!

One thing I never seem to learn is that booking every spare moment of my weekend is not a good idea. I always think that "ah, it's no big deal, it'll be fun", but really, the weekend requires that at least one day be an empty sacred day of do-nothingness. If you don't get at least that one day, then you end up exhausted on Monday morning, feeling more tired than you were on Friday night. Not an ideal way to start the work week.

That's not to say we didn't have a good time this weekend. We got in a birthday dinner on Friday night and a brunch on Sunday morning with Scott's family, dinner with Jen and Brad and 8-week old baby Maya on Saturday, and we also put together a small last minute gathering for Superbowl on Sunday night. It was great to catch up with Shane and Stephanie and their 10 month old daughter Charlotte. Also in attendance were Cathy and Alex, who always add to a good time. Scott served up a mess of wings, pizza, chips/dip and I made the ever popular Skor cookies. They all drank beer, I drank...milk. Have I mentioned I am REALLY looking forward to being able to enjoy a nice glass of wine once this baby of mine is born?

The Superbowl was typical in that the actual game is never really all that good. Shane agreed with me that the Indianapolis/Pittsburgh game leading up to the Superbowl was much more exciting. The half time show with the Rolling Stones was crap - I miss Janet Jackson and her bejewelled ta-tas. I can't believe the powers that be beeped out the word "cock" from the song "Rough Justice" (One time you were my baby chicken / Now you've grown into a fox / Once upon a time I was your little rooster / But am I just one of your cocks). Jessica Simpson can strut around half naked trying to seduce a teenage boy, but a they won't let an old geezer like Mick Jagger say the world "cock"? Whatevs.

In other news, I have noticed that people say the damnedest things to you when you are noticeably pregnant. Some comments are welcome, some are meant in jest (but still sting), and some are just inappropriate or downright rude/mean-spirited.

A few examples from this past week:
Nicest thing someone said to me: "Look at your belly - you look fabulous!" (thanks Stephanie)
Meanest thing someone said to me: "Hey Kat, you're getting really fat!" (thanks Alex...you big jerk)
Most inappropriate question asked: "So, are your boobs getting really big?") (thanks pseudo-dad, you friggin' weirdo)

And if you can believe it, those are just the tip of the iceberg QUITE RLY!.