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


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.
I feel like I have been checking off the days of January on my calendar for months. Seriously, the last three weeks have dragged by...and by the looks of it, there are 2 more weeks of this! Maybe it 's just that the days in general seem to be moving at a snail's pace, and with me starting to really feel uncomfortable in my own body, the minutes feel like hours...the hours go so slowly...you get the picture.
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. 
I don't much like talking politics on my blog, or in general, but I gotta say, this upcoming election has me torn. I'm going to vote, because not voting is just unacceptable. I was going to just vote based on the party, but I thought I should at least know what the candidates in Halton look like before I cast my ballot. Last election I voted Liberal, and that was mostly because the idea of Stephen Harper being Prime Minister and all the things that come with that scare the shit out of me. While I probably lean more to the left and would vote NDP in any other riding, living in Oakville, I knew there was a significant risk that the riding could go Conservative. So Liberal it was. I hated the fact that I was "voting strategically" but I did it anyway.
Anyone else tired of all of the reruns/recaps/rehash of television shows over the holidays? Me too. I mean, why do the holidays have to interrupt my favourite television shows? Seems unfair to me, but that's not a battle I'm going to win. Since I am just about at my wits end with this tv dryspell, I decided to watch the Grey's Anatomy seasons one and two recap. I think this effort to get viewers up to speed is for their upcoming Super Bowl show (they get the time honoured Survivor spot following the big game). I didn't learn anything new about the show, but I did notice that Patrick Dempsey got increasingly sex-ay from season 1 to now. I was a bit tired, so I had a hard time pinpointing it. And then it came to me. The scruffy factor.
Scott - please stop reading now as this does not apply to you (I prefer the man I kiss to be clean shaven). To prove my point, I found a few pics of our man Patrick in various states of scruffiness. You can't really deny it. Early on in the show he was clean shaven with short hair. As his hair gets a little curlier and his 5'o-clock shadow takes over, so does he hawt factor. Also, when he is a bit stressed out with the whole living-a-lie-by-staying-with-Madison-when-he-lurves-scrawny-Meredith, he is pretty raw....and jumpable. Hey, I'm pregnant, not dead. And besides that, the 2nd trimester, it's a good time for these types of hormone-driven-lusty thoughts. At 25 weeks I have to embrace these feelings as I will soon be switching to beached whale mode.
What I want to see in the coming weeks...I need some Derek/Meredith action. I mean, he was a good guy, he tried to make it work with Madison, but there is no chemistry there. He needs to maybe start cheating on her with Meredith. Or just end it already and move on. We can't expect Kristina and Preston to keep us all satisfied for the rest of the season.

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.




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.
The other night 



Ah damn. Somehow my blogiversary totally slipped by me...I'm going to blame it on the pregnancy brain. My mind seems to be doing an incredible impression of a sieve as of late. Seriously, I am able to forget anything and everything. It's actually rather impressive, and I thoroughly enjoy having something to blame it on. It should be noted that 