Milestone Monday 4/14/2008 (119 days to go!)

I’m using a font that sounds like an Angry German: Haettenschweiler. That’s the kind of mood I’m in. I don’t want to talk about it. I’d rather focus on the subject of this post: my new baby. Because baby=happy. Happy baby=happy mommy.




Milestone 1: This is so old I don’t even like talking about it anymore but it’s an on-going issue: my hips still hurt. Walking around the zoo yesterday was hard. That’s all I’m going to say because ya’ll are tired of hearing me whine about my sore joints.


Milestone 2: Brassier country. I’ve converted fully to my nursing bras. The last regular bra I picked up last month fit me for two weeks. Matt thinks this is pretty ok but I’m annoyed. So now I’m in not-at-all-cute nursing bras, and my lady readers know how important a pretty bra is to your over all feeling of attractiveness. Oh and I have giant nipples now  and these things have no padding so I’m always looking very happy. Don’t look.


Milestone 3: Caffeine has become my long lost friend. I had three mochas last week plus an 8 oz ghetto mocha here at work. That’s a regular cup of coffee with hot cocoa powder mixed in. So much for swearing off coffee. To be fair, it’s not my fault! Hubby keeps treating me to Caribou on the way to work. And yes I could get a decaf mocha but I still feel dirty from the last time I ordered one of those imposters 2 months ago. On the plus side, I don’t drink soda anymore because baby doesn’t like the syrup which is SO not like his sister who jump started my Cherry Coke addiction when she was incubating. Now I can’t touch the stuff. So that evens out right? At least the coffee won’t rot my bones like the coke. At least I haven’t seen any studies saying otherwise. Remind me to avoid reading medical journals for the next 4 months.

“We’re Coffee Beans


Milestone 4: I’m officially at the “wow, you have THAT much time left?” stage in belly size. I’ve had three people in the last week say that phrase in a variety of ways: “Wow, so you’re pretty big,huh?” “Wow, you’ve got some time left, huh?” “Wow, he’s going to be a big baby, huh?” Two of those were strangers at home depot and one was a co-worker I’ve barely spoken too. Yes, people, I have BIG babies and yes, people, I’m a tiny woman so YES, PEOPLE, it’s going to hurt like a mother fucker. Please point it out some more, will ya?


I don’t understand the lack of tact sometimes. Do people really think a woman who has 4 months of pregnancy left wants it repeated to her over and over again that she’s already pretty big? Never mind the child birth portion of this process but here’s a tip (if you haven’t caught it yet): Pregnant woman have VERY FRAGILE EGOS. When someone says “you’re going to have a big baby.” They hear, “You are HUGE!!!! Not the baby, but YOU.” So please, when you see a pregnant woman, regardless of her size, tell her how nice she looks today. You’ll probably get a passive aggressive response like, “Bless you. I feel huge.” But know that you’ve made her day and she’ll be riding that compliment for all its worth.


That’s my public service announcement for the day.

 Your pregnancy: 23 weeks

How your baby’s growing:

Your baby is more than 11 inches long and weighs just over a pound (about as much as a large mango). His skin is red and wrinkled. Blood vessels in his lungs are developing to prepare him for breathing. He can swallow, but he normally won’t pass his first stool (called meconium) until after birth. Loud noises heard often in utero — such as your dog barking or the roar of a vacuum cleaner — probably won’t faze your baby when he hears them outside the womb.



 Preparing for the paparazzi. “No more pictures, please. I’m not decent!”

Nibbler, you’re mommy’s source of strength right now. Teamed up with your sister and your daddy, you help me stay focused during these turbulent home owning issues. My mantra has become, “Do it for them.”

I love it when I ‘m resting my hand on my belly and people ask, “Is the baby kicking?” and I can respond with a smile, “Yup, he’s letting me know he’s ok.”  I was talking with a friend yesterday who asked when I was due. He knew it was August but he couldn’t remember the exact date. When I told him the 11th he told me how he hopes he’ll still be in the state so he can meet our son. “Son.” I love that word. My son.


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