39 Weeks: It's just me an Angelina left.

Seems like everyone has gone and had their babies...Gweneth had Moses, Katie and Brooke popped out their little girls this week, so it really is just me and Angelina left. Le Sigh. It appears that this little guy is waiting to make sure that he will be a Taurus (like we didn't already know he would be a stubborn one).

I'm glad I'm home and off work because I am incredibly exhausted. So much for this whole nesting thing. I toss and turn all night - the little guy seems to think my internal organs are throw cushions. The lack of sleep during normal sleeping hours means I need at least one nap during the day. I can't wait until I can lay on my stomach again. Or when simply rolling over in bed won't be a monumental task. The phone calls have started with everyone wondering a) how am I doing and b) have I had this baby yet? Forgive me if I don't answer the phone and/or call you back, and to answer your questions a) how do you think I'm doing? I'm still pregnant and b) we'll let you know when it happens.

Scott's birthday is Sunday and my birthday is next Sunday. Neither of us are feeling incredibly inspired to celebrate, plus it's also hard to nail down any plans when we could become parents at any moment. I think I may have commited to making him a cake if the baby has still not introduced himself by Sunday. Guess we'll see about that.

38 weeks: Still no baby.

I was going to post about how uncomfortable I am, how I'm not sleeping, I am completely emotional and hormonal and how I can't wait to have this baby already, but I got a bit of perspective tonight. One of my coworkers who was due at the end of July had her baby 3.5 months early today - he is less than 2 pounds. Sounds like he is okay, but he will be spending at least the next couple of months in the hospital. So, while I still hope to have this little boy sooner rather than later, I am very thankful that he will be fully baked when he arrives. If we could all send some strong healthy baby vibes to Amber's little boy Adam, that would be wonderful.

I am also very thankful for my bestfriend Jennifer who sent me these beautiful flowers today (the card says "Hang in there!"). On a day where I didn't think I would even have the energy to get dressed, she managed to put a smile on my face and helped me get motivated to go for a walk (I hear that helps get things moving at this point...). I have been remiss in not posting about her new book - truth me told I am still reading it so I wanted to finish it before I posted. This is her first of many I am sure and I am super proud of her.

I am taping American Idol tonight (who can resist a night of Queen?). I'll watch it tomorrow and post my review before the results show.

37 weeks: Nursery complete (almost).

I vetoed American Idol when I found out they were doing a night of country. I can't imagine why I would need to sit through an hour of mediocre renditions of mediocre songs. And Kenny Rogers? Don't get me started…he's no Johnny Cash is all I'll say on the matter. So, no review this week. Besides, from the lack of comments I'm thinking people just don't give a shit about American Idol this year and I can't really blame them.

Good news on the nursery front - it is almost done. The only things left are to put a couple of pictures up and install the drawer on the crib once Storkcraft sends me the screws that were missing from my order. As you may recall, Scott and I went back and forth on how to decorate the room. I didn't want anything that screamed BOY-MUST HAVE LOCOMOTIVES TO EXPRESS EARLY MASCULINITY and Scott didn't want anything that he perceived as wimpy (ix-nay on the amb-lay). Because I mean, gawd forbid we introduce anything soft and wooly to our little boy, right? When I found the monkey bedding online, I figured I had a winner and I guessed right. Scott approved so the order was placed. The only problem with ordering stuff online, sight unseen is you really don't know exactly what you are getting. I am pleased to say that the bedding is awesome - much nicer than anything I had pictured!
My mom also sewed a matching window valance for the room (thanks mom!) and I completely stole Daymented's carpet idea. And I ordered the exact same glider that our friends Jen and Brad put in their little girl Maya's nursery. What can I say, all of my creativity is going towards making this baby, I got nothing left. I have 3 weeks less a day to go until the little guy's due date. He has already dropped, so my bladder is non-existent, my hips feel like they are being wrenched apart and I am really ready to not be pregnant anymore. I think these last few weeks will be the toughest weeks of all, but at least the beginning my next adventure is in sight.

36 weeks: I don't think you're ready for this belly.

I have received a few requests for an updated belly shot, so here you go - this picture was taken just moments ago. Scott is out doing Raptor things tonight so I had to take the picture myself (check out my sexy sweat socks). My belly is as hard as a rock (it feels like an inflated basketball) and the little guy is running out of room. These days he mostly just rolls back and forth and gets the hiccups. When I wake up in the morning he tends to be mostly on one side, so my belly is all lopsided - quite a sight!

I took today off work so I could rest and get my hair did. I figured that I might scare my baby if he came out and saw my horrible roots and straggly hair. Now I am back to bonafide blonde and the length is more manageable. So, if he is a blonde haired baby, at least he'll know who is mama is. I meant to just sit on my butt today, that didn't happen (though I had 2 naps). The urge to nest is creeping up on me so I had the kitchen clean, laundry done and house organized by 11am. I'm hoping this is a good sign that the little guy is going to come sooner rather than later. The nursery is almost done (just waiting on the bedding and window treatment which should arrive sometime next week) and the baby clothes are washed. We'll get the carseat installed next week sometime and then we wait.

PS: I got a really great message today on my voicemail that went something like this..."Hi Katrina, you must be HUGE by now. Give me a call."

Hey - fuck you! Seriously, go fuck yourself! And that isn't the hormones talking either. I still mean it. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck Yooooooooooooooooooou.

26 Weeks | 21 Weeks | Baby Makes 3

"No need to rush baby-mama, take your time."

Before I get started, I have to tell you about one of the best things someone has said to me during my entire pregnancy. On Thursday I was waddling into a building at College and University, and I was about to cross pathes with a very big guy, so I tried to speed up to avoid getting in his way. He looked at me and smiled and said "no need to rush baby-mama, take your time". Love that. I am a baby-mama!

One of the things people keep saying to me is that I should enjoy my last few weeks of "freedom" and do things that I will likely not be able to do for a while once the little bebe is born. This makes me laugh as it is really hard to enjoy much when you can't walk, can't sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time, and are in general completely uncomfortable. It's not like I'm in the Bahamas sipping rum-laced girly drinks...the highlight of my day is getting home from work so I can take my socks off and put my feet up. If I'm lucky Scott will bring me a Perrier with lemon over ice. Pretty exciting stuff I tell you. With only 8 days of work left it's no wonder I'm getting excited (read impatient) to meet our baby. This morning I bemoaned that fact that it could actually be as much as 6 weeks if he is overdue, to which Scott responded, "but it could also only be 2 weeks (gulp)".
Anyway, one thing I knew was an absolute must (in the vein of enjoying my last days of "freedom") was to get together with my girlfriends Vera and Brandie. These ladies remind me what it is like to be single, living the life in Toronto, partying all the time, up on all the latest and greatest...plus they are gorgeous and always hella fun. They threw my infamous bachelorette party (pre-blog days) and while there are pictures, which are scandalous, I will not be sharing them with you, dear readers (okay, maybe just one - this is me on Richmond Street, completely hammered, with cops). They also gave me lingerie at my bridal shower that had more holes than fabric, and what fabric there was...it was completely sheer or mesh (hawt!).Scott and I met up with Vera and Brandie at Young Thailand for dinner last Thursday so they could rub my belly for good luck and I could have one last meal with the lovely ladies before I officially get stranded in the burbs for a year with the little ankle biter. Vera promised me that she will come visit me and that she will not forget about me. I don't think I got that same promise out of Brandie...lol. Vera also spoiled the little guy with a Whoozit toy and a kickass Nike Basketball outfit (her goal being to brand the kid right off the bat). I'll let the branding thing slide as Vera is the cool shit and has style to spare. This after my ongoing battle to keep all things Disney out of the nursery...I figure there is no need to market to a baby straight out of the womb...the exposure to all things Barney will happen soon enough, right?

35 weeks tomorrow, X number of weeks to go.

Oh my gawd I am tired and uncomfortable and in pain. The little guy has dropped a bit in the last few days and wow, am I ever feeling it. I thought I had to go to the bathroom a lot before? Hah. Whatevs. If I don't go every 15 minutes the result is crippling pain that has me hobbling to the bathroom, likely requiring Scott's assistance. Poor guy, the romance is truly gone, for the next while anyway. My ankles are puffy and swollen, I haven't worn my wedding ring for over a month, and I checked my pride at the door this morning when I asked Scott to go to the pharmacy to get me Metamucil capsules and Prep H. Hawt! No wonder Scott questions that I will ever want to do this again. I figure it will take me at least a few years to forget how hard this is. I used to think I'd want to have kids really close together in age, now I say "no way no how".

What is strange is that from 37 weeks on, our son really could arrive at any moment. So, technically, he could be here in 2 weeks. But I have a feeling that he will be on the latter side of 40 weeks rather than early (I see the scene playing out with me in tears at my obgyn's office begging to be induced). My mom keeps saying she thinks he will be "right on time" but I know she is just trying to keep my spirits up. If this boy takes after his father he will be super late and then rush through the labour. If he is like me, he will be a bit early or on schedule and give Jennifer just the right amount of time to get here from Ottawa to help get me through this.

I am trying not to think too much about the whole labouring process. I figure he has to come out one way or another. If for some horrible, terrible, unthinkable reason my doctor actually lets me go the standard 2 weeks overdue before helping me out, that means that I will be a mom by May 9th at the latest. That's still seven weeks away. Oi. I don't think I can wait that long little guy. Please don't make me wait that long. Besides, I'm getting excited to meet this little bundle of joy ;-) What is kind of cool is that I will be a Mom on Mother's Day. And this year, I will get to spend Mother's Day with my Mom! I think that will be a bit of trip for her.

The countdown of days left at work started a few weeks ago. I am actually marking off each day as it passes. As of this morning, I have twelve days left in the office. Some mornings I doubt I will make it through to my last day of April 7th. I just want to stay in my pyjamas and lay on the couch and watch recorded episodes of Miami Ink and daydream about Chris Garver. This morning I could barely walk, but somehow, after putting my pants on backwards and then starting to cry when I realized what I had done, I managed to get myself properly dressed, made-up, hair did, and out the door. If it weren't for Scott chauffeuring me door-to-door I doubt I would ever get to work. So, for that I am thankful. He's probably reading this thinking "she's so grumpy and tired right now, I had no idea she appreciated me". But I do. I really do.
The Sopranos Update:
Turns out that The Sopranos without Tony Soprano kind of blows. At first I thought the whole first episode had been a dream sequence (don't you dare go all Dallas on my ass!). Tony needs to wake the fuck up asap because I don't need to spend my Sunday night watching a bunch of mobsters squabbling over his spoils. Also, Carmela looks ROUGH without any makeup on. No need for that!

Grey's Anatomy Update:
Still no sex. But let me just say that I was cheering when Alex told George off for being such a puss about Meredith. As much as I don't dig Alex's scene and I hated him for being so crappy to Izzie's patient/love interest, I totally agree with him on the George front. And would someone fix that dude's hair while they are at it? It looks like he let a 2 year old cut his bangs...well, he is acting like a 2 year old...

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?

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!.

I am a cranky cranky be-atch.

There, I said it. 12 weeks to go, and cranky preggo fever has taken full force. Seriously, if you can please me, you should win a prize as I am a humourless, hyper-emotional, bloated, breeding be-atch. Between almost breaking down in tears at my doctor's office (what DO YOU MEAN you can't do my gestational diabetes test here?!!) and scowling at the sales lady at Thyme Maternity for telling me my breasts "weren't THAT big" (yes but they weigh about 10 pounds each), I am a real treat. Poor Scott. He took this picture of me at Alana's birthday party on Saturday and I tearfully accused him of not only of lacking any photography skills whatsoever, but also suggested that he should KNOW BETTER than to take a picture of me from the side. So, no more pictures of the fat pregnant lady with multiple chins. Unless I get to select my "best side" which is likely when I am standing behind something larger than me (like an NFL linebacker or my fridge).
Anyway, I did manage to muster up some smiles for dear Alana's belated 25th birthday party on Saturday. I conned Adam, Marcy and Alana into coming to Oakville (I don't travel well with the constant need to pee) for the evening. I sweet talked Scott into making his killer lasagne, volun-told Adam to provide appetizers, and even got Alana to bring a salad (to her own birthday party nonetheless!). I am good, eh? I did actually contribute something - I made her a birthday cake from scratch. This is the first birthday cake I have EVER made from scratch (I always thought that a store bought cake or mix was just as good). Apparently I was dead wrong - while homemade may not be as pretty, it does in fact taste much better. I used this Carrot Cake recipe from Canadian Living - the only change I made was to make it a layer cake so I decreased the time to 28 minutes and increased the icing by 50%.

A few news updates:
1. If you think that 2006 is the year of the Dog, you are wrong. 2006 is the year of the baby. Please welcome Domestic Goddess & TilaBC to the group of impending mommies. Babies are the new Pink!

The watch list now includes:
Melanoma Uberalis
Domestic Goddess
Daymented
TilaBC/What Have I Done?

Anyone want to take bets on who is next? Through My Lens is turning 30 and has been making baby noises recently... Dooce has even made a few suspicious comments...guess only time will tell. 2. Bossa is now fully on the road to recovery (seen here making sweet sweet love to Marcy's purse). She is now a svelte 10.5 pounds, feeling much better, and no longer peeing outside her litter box or wiping her shit ass on our carpet (much to Scott's relief). Good thing, because we are out of money. Put it this way - we spent so much on her this past month that the vet sent us a "certificate of appreciation for taking such good care of Bossa". The fine print reads "and for paying my mortgage this month". It's not like we are trying to save our money or anything. Sigh.

My ass is gone.

Much to my dismay, I have fallen victim to "pregnant-lady-flat-butt" syndrome. Seriously, my ass is gone. I'm not really sure where it went either. It used to be a nice apple bottom, not too big, not too small, with a nice curve. But it is gone, and I am sad. Maybe it has reincarnated itself in the form of our new Prime Minister. That's got to be it. Though my ass was firmer and more useful than this doughy zealot we now call our leader. Admittedly, both have been known to be full of shit. By the way, I'm not saying my ass was as fine as the fine lady's ass in this picture (Scott wishes). But it does illustrate my point while offering you some eye candy.

It seems that the majority of my blogger friends are tremendously unhappy with the election results. I think they could have been far worse and there were some interesting outcomes. Notably, the NDP picked up some seats, Olivia Chow won in Trinity-Spadina (go Olivia!), Belinda Stronach retained her seat in Aurora, and Montreal, Toronto and Vancouver wisely blocked the Conservatives from even winning one seat in the biggest cities in Canada. How you like that Stevo? Not one of the major urban centres in Canada supports you.

This brings me to another point - the name Steve. Hope this doesn't offend anyone, but I don't think I've ever met a Steve I could trust. They have all had that used car salesmen thing going for them. That's just my personal experience mind you, and our new PM only helps me build my case. I can't stand him, he makes my skin crawl. I doubt we'll have to deal with him for more than a couple of years and hopefully he isn't able to take back same sex marriage while he is in office. As a new-mom-to-be I sure am happy about that $100 a month though - that's going to go really far towards my $800+ monthly daycare costs. Heck, maybe I should just quit my job and stay home and pop out a bunch of kids. $100 is sure a strong incentive. Not.

Baby Blog: 26 weeks and counting.

Goodbye second trimester, hello tired legs, swollen feet, sore back, and all of the other wonderful parts of the final 14 weeks of pregnancy. This weekend I asked Scott to help roll me out of bed. Pride has been placed firmly on the backburner. My wedding band no longer fits my swollen fingers so I look like a single woman. A knocked up single woman...I'm sure the fellas will be lining up for my phone number.

Good news is that Scott and I finished up the baby registry this past weekend. Stephanie was kind enough to look at it for me and give me the rundown on things that I should add (fun baby toys!), things that I really don't need (baby food warmer), and things she will lend us (baby swing, baby bumble seat). I figured a new mom like her would be a good person to ask as it is fresh in her mind and I figured right. We tested out a stroller to make sure that I can open and close it with one hand (check) and that the baby seat rocks when placed on the floor (check). We also finally settled on the nursery bedding, and it looks like if we have a theme, the theme is monkeys. Somewhat appropriate if you know Scott. The little guy has taken up World Cup Soccer practice in my belly - practices start at 11pm every night, in case you wanted to attend. It really is quite a spectacle, my belly lurches from side to side. I am actually reduced to "navel gazing" as I see him kick and roll around. I also managed to start clearing out the nursery (formally the empty "storage/junk" room). I made a good dent in it...more work still to come once I figure out where to put the stuff that I didn't throw out.
I was emailing with my friend Lulu this morning and I said that I can already tell that the baby is going to take after Scott. Hence my prediction that he will be born after his due date and he will be a total night owl. She said that she has noticed a trend where the first born is a lot like the father. She is a first born and she said that the older she gets, the more she realizes she is like her dad (who, turns out, "is a cool dude so it's all good"). I am not at all like my birth father, so I don't share in this experience. Just wondering if anyone else has noticed this trend? I expect our son will be a ball of energy, be smarter than his own good, have a bit of a mouth on him, and will give me a run for my money every chance he gets. Just like his dad. And Scott's folks will sit back and laugh their asses off, because they will know exactly what we are going through, having already been through it.

Baby Blog: The honeymoon is over.

While it may be 2 more weeks until the 3rd trimester starts, let me tell you, the 2nd trimester honeymoon that you hear about? It's over. See, the theory is that the 2nd trimester is the fun time, when you no longer feel exhausted/nauseous/bloated and you aren't yet huge/sore/unable to sleep. After buying 3 pairs of "larger" pants this week, waking up every half hour because my hips ache, a new found love of all things tums/gaviscon/zantac, and my ever sexy strut/waddle I can honestly say that I am a bit worried about the next 16 weeks. I mean, it's not going to get any better until the little guy is born. In fact, it's going to get worse.

Scott has been a trooper. Over the holidays my crankiness increased 10-fold, culminating with me in tears at 4pm on Christmas day telling him "I haven't sat down since we got home and I am exhausted!". He steered me towards bed and told me to take a nap and not to worry. So I did. The other day he asked me "did you ever imagine it would be this hard?" and I told him "it's something that people tell you and you nod and think you get it because you are so focused on the end result of having a baby." But you can't possibly understand just how hard it really is until you are in it. The thing that has been really tough this week (besides coming back to work after being off for over a week) is that I wake up tired and worn out. My bones are tired. My brain is fuzzy. And I can't have any coffee to pull it all together. I also miss diet coke. A lot. I'm not proud.

Aside from all of my physical complaints, I am getting excited about the arrival of our little guy. I am going to order the nursery furniture this weekend. His room is painted, so we just need to empty it out, put some child safe blinds up and get the carpets cleaned. I even set up a baby registry at babiesrus.ca. There has been some disagreement on the theme of the room. I would like to do "lambs" and Scott, while he has no suggestions, is saying "no lambs!". His theory is that they won't have much staying power. I know, doesn't make much sense to me either, I mean, once the kid is 2 or so he will be moving into a big boy room and will be able to choose his own decorating, or at least help select between trains/planes/whatever it is that little boys like. Anyway, suggestions are welcome. I don't want anything macho though, so monster trucks are out!

Pee in my face (and tell me that you love me).

What a busy busy week it has been (not that the lead up to it wasn't also harried and hectic). I feel like after 2 days of hibernating with Scott I am just starting to recover. So first off, we had an awesome Christmas. My folks arrived on the 22nd and it was pretty much go-go-go right up to when they departed on the 28th. I was totally spoiled rotten this year (could be this little munchkin growing in my belly is earning me some preferential treatment). This really was the year of the "accessory" (one would be pretty daring to buy me clothes that I didn't pick out). I got a watch, several beautiful necklaces (to keep the focus on my face and not my burgeoning belly), and my most favourite gift of all, a pair of pearl earrings from Scott. He really is a keeper ladies.

The best part of Christmas really was having my folks here. Living in Toronto is great and all, but I really feel it during the holidays. I think it is the customs we are used to, and when they aren't there, and your folks aren't there, it just isn't the same. Christmas is a HUGE deal to me, it always has been (I must get this from my mom). I go all out, baking, decorating, trying to come up with the most thoughtful gifts, wrapping presents so they look almost too nice to open...I live for this stuff. And yes, I have been called "Martha Stewart" on several occasions, and I wear that nickname with pride. A big shout out has to go out to my mom who pretty much handled Christmas dinner on her own (I chopped up stuff, washed dishes, and set the table which she said was a big help, but who are we kidding?). Her sausage stuffing and Southern Comfort sweet potatoes were big hits and Scott deserves props for his killer mashed potatoes. The $60 turkey is still being put to good use as Scott and I made turkey soup a few nights ago (for $60 we want that turkey to go far).

Tonight we are spending a low key New Year's Eve with our friends Jen and Brad and their just short of 4 weeks old baby girl Maya. I think there will be another couple there who are also expecting, so I won't be the only preggo person not drinking. Funny how now that we are 30 a lot of our friends have moved to this next stage with us. I knew it would happen, I just wasn't able to picture it. I don't have any new year's resolutions this year because they typically focus on trying to lose weight and that just isn't going to happen in the next little while. This next year is going to be full of enough challenges/surprises/delights without adding any extra pressure of a resolution, that's for sure.

Bossa Update: Stoner cat is doing just fine, though contrary to what the vet told us, the valium has not made her any nicer (she still looks for ways to sneak onto the 2nd floor to kill Samba). Sigh. I doubt that will ever change. Though she has stopped peeing in inappropriate places, and her pee doesn't stink nearly so bad. She is fully converted onto wet food as well, and her coat is much nicer for it. She has to stay on the valium until the 6th when we will take her to the vet again to get retested. Then we get to ween her off the drugs slowly so she doesn't come down too hard from her high. That's just what I need...I detoxing kitty.

A few of the wonderful gifts I got:
Pee-pee Teepees for our little boy (to avoid the whole face peeing thing)
Pizzelle Press (still working on mastering this)
Heated Throw Blanket (because you can never be too cozy)
So Doku book (I am truly addicted)
Kanye West's latest
Coldplay's latest (aka "Music For Bedwetters according to Scott")

Couldn't we all use a little valium this time of year?

My cat Bossa is on valium. And assorted other medications to clear up a urinary tract infection and crystals in her urine. Apparently she is a little stressed out, so the vet felt it would be a good idea to help her calm down a bit to aid in her recovery. This seems unfair to me. I mean, I have never had that chance to take valium, and I've heard it's a wonderful drug! Ah well, Bossa has such a rough life, sleeping on our heating vent all day, looking for new and creative places to piss, I am sure she needs it. It is pretty funny to see her once the "happy drug" has kicked in, she really does look stoned. If she could smile, I think she would have a slightly bemused expression on her face. The holidays are a stressful time, so if she needs a little help to get through the next few weeks, then more power to her. This will be my first Christmas in years that I will not be able to drink/self-medicate, so I am wondering how I am going to hold up? What do you mean I can't spike my coffee Christmas morning?? And no wine with dinner to numb me to the yearly ritual of Scott and his brother claiming the turkey legs for themselves? Lord help me and Lord help you too!

Anyway, I am pretty much ready for the big day. My house is decorated and clean, shopping complete, gifts are wrapped, baking is done, cards long gone, errands run, so now the festivities can start. My folks arrive tonight and Scott and I are very excited to get to share Christmas with them on the actual holiday - the first time in seven years! It will be fun to see how our collective families mix with our different traditions. Scott and I are hosting Christmas dinner this year, for the first time ever, giving his mom a break from having to put a big meal on Christmas day. Luckily my mom will be here to steer the ship, otherwise I would be FREAKING OUT. She does make a kickass Christmas dinner (her sausage stuffing is famous in 50 states), so I am hoping mine will be 1/10th as good as hers.

The little guy has really gained strength this week, and is kicking up a storm (his favourite times are right after dinner and at bedtime). It really is a trip, having a human being growing inside you. The book I am reading says that at 22 weeks he is 8 inches long from crown to rump and weighs just over a pound. A pound? So, umm...what about this other 13 pounds? What is all that? No wonder I grunt like an old man when I get up and down, it's because I'm actually the size of a pie wagon. Gah! I think I am still getting used to the fact that I am not the slender young thing I used to be. Yesterday at the grocery store I tried to ease my way between two shopping carts and I got stuck. The lady next to me gave me a funny look, but smiled when I explained that I am 5 months pregnant and I have apparently not accepted my new found girth. In other news, I got my first unsolicited belly tap this week. An odd thing really, having someone you barely know reach out and touch your tummy. All this and it's my CAT WHO GETS THE VALIUM?? So unfair.

4a.m. and I can't sleep.

It seems that the 5-month insomnia has officially kicked in. I woke up at 4a.m. this morning and here I am wide awake, and ready to go. I guess this is Mother Nature's way of getting me ready for months of no sleep. Also, it seems that between quilting, baking and growing a child inside me, pretty much all my creativity has been sapped out of my body, so apologies for the lack of posts - my blogging muse has deserted me as of late.

Scott and I went over and visited with our friend's Brad and Jen and their fresh! new! pink! babysmelling! baby Maya Jennifer! Here is a picture of me hogging her all to myself:
A few months ago Brad emailed me pictures of Maya's nursery, so I quickly hussled my butt to the local fabric store and started on a quilt. I gotta say, I am very proud of this quilt - it turned out exactly as I had envisioned, and I made a pillow to boot! Let me show off a bit:
Okay, enough of that. Did I mention it matches her nursery perfectly???

I would remiss if I did not mention how pleased I was with Sunday night's Grey's Anatomy. I LOVE that Christina is Jewish, and even more so, I am very pleased to see the plot line moving towards a Merinda and Derek reconciliation. HAH! Madison's(TM) face with Derek was all "Just because I decide to be with you doesn't mean I don't love her". Friggin' ouch dude! Now, that's honesty. Seriously, this show gets me through the Sunday-night-gotta-go-back-to-work-blues.

Baby Blog: 20 Weeks & Half Way There.

I'm about to spill the beans on the whole boy/girl news so if you are one of those people that doesn't like to know these things before the big day, please avert your eyes.

We went for the 19 week ultrasound on Friday and (drum roll please) according to one ultrasound technician and two doctors, we have a beautiful bouncing baby BOY on the way. Funny, everyone was saying girl, but I had a feeling we were having a boy. Mother's instinct, I guess! Our little guys "equipment" got pointed out to us, but to be honest, I felt like Rachel on "Friends" where she nods and smiles and says that yes she can see everything and then bursts into tears and admits she actually sees nothing. I didn't cry, and I wasn't upset, but I have to say, outside of the baby's head, hands and legs, I had a hard time figuring out what exactly I was looking at. Scott guarantees that his son is "packing" though, and well, I guess that's that. To make matters complicated, our little guy would not stay still, and he was not staying in any kind of an ideal position for the tech to take her measurements. Ah well, I can already see that he is taking after his dad (stubborn!). Which means he'll also be late, so I can make plans after my due date with no worries.

Though Scott says he would have been happy either way, I think he is secretly thrilled that he is going to have a son. While the clothes may not be quite as cute as the sea of pink girl outfits, I think that boys definitely get better toys. Now that we know I can make some decisions about his room, which is already painted green (which is how it will stay). I'm not sure what kind of colour scheme I'll go with, but I know I'll stay away from any kind of Disney theme. Maybe trains, or lambs...we're half way there so I better make up my mind. Belly shots to come...

The "Joys" of Being Preggo.

The other night Jennifer and I were chatting on the phone and the topic of being pregnant came up. It's interesting really, how different people think about their own pregnancies and the pregnancies of others. Take me for example. I was very excited and there were a few key people that I told the moment I found out I was "in the family way". Mainly my mom and my friend Jennifer. See, they both knew how important this was to me and they were both really excited. We let a few other friends know early on, but then we zipped our mouths shut about it and waited until we got past the 12 week mark to share our news. When we did tell people, it wasn't that big a deal. We waited until we happened to be talking with people on the phone, or when we saw our friends. But, really, while the fact that we are having a kid is interesting news, it doesn't change anyone else's lives. We knew that and didn't make a huge deal about it. I've experienced the other side of it though, the huge "secrecy" of it all, the pecking order of who can be "in the know" and who needs to be "kept in the dark". Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. Billions of women have had babies before me and billions of women will have them after me. While it's awesome and beautiful and scary as hell, it isn't really all that spectacular. In fact, as I ran down the glorious list of pregnancy symptoms, I had Jennifer in stitches.

For your interest, here are the facts:

Skin/Hair:
- That pregnancy glow that people talk about, it is more of a flush and you are flushed because you are always boiling hot and sweaty
- You break out like a teenager, you get nose bleeds that would make special effects departments proud
- Your hair gets weird and funky on you, some days it is limp, some days it goes hay wire

Sickness:
- From the minute you find out your are pregnant until about 12 weeks, you feel pretty much like you want to die (it feels like it will never ever end)
- You dry heave every time your brush your teeth (this lasts the entire pregnancy), your dental hygienist gives you the gears for not flossing more (bitch!)

Eating:
- You have to eat at least every two hours, and if you don't you get dizzy and feel like you are going to pass out
- When you need to eat, you need to eat NOW
- Things that you used to love to eat are completely unappealing (example - Thai food)
- Things that used to smell good now smell like urine

Bathroom:
- The constant peeing is a real pain and time sucker, I swear I have a reserve bladder that is always full
- For the first time in your life, you can out-fart any male you know and your farts will smell so bad that your cat may bite you out of disgust
- When you manage to "go #2" you feel like you want to sing to the heavens in appreciation. You are so excited, you may or may not mention it to your spouse

Belly:
- At some point in the 2nd trimester, your stomach muscles give up the ghost. Then you need your husband/partner/whoever to push you out of bed, lest you end up stuck there flailing your arms and legs like a turtle
- Your waist line gets wider by the day and you swear if you get any wider you will in fact be mistaken for a pie wagon

Boobs:
- Your boobs, at first they hurt like they have NEVER hurt before, and they get about 2 cups sizes bigger, almost immediately. Then they get hard as rocks, like you had a boob job, except they aren't nearly as perky as they would be if you had a boob job (more like torpedoes shooting at your belly button)

Sleep:
- Getting up 2 - 3 times a night to pee, really messes up the whole sleep thing
- 9pm is your new bedtime, you can't imagine how you used to stay up to watch Saturday Night Live

General Life skills:
- You become the klutziest person on the face of the earth (breaking dishes, dropping the cat food container in mid air, knocking random potted plants over)
- You can't remember basic things, your husband/partner will use this to play tricks on you

And those are just the things I have experienced so far, I still have 22 more weeks to go! Now, don't think that I am complaining, these are mere observations and comments. I mostly take them with a grain of salt and a lot of laughter. I am thrilled to be having a baby. But anyone who tells you how wonderful it is to be pregnant, and how "great" they feel, they are either lying or insane (though the 2nd trimester is MUCH better than the first). The end result is worth it, but while you are in it, you wonder what the hell you were thinking.