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This week was supposed to mark the end of a busy, stressful couple of months. E’s done with his initiation and mailed in his officer’s package yesterday. I’m at 14 weeks and my morning sickness has faded to just a couple minor twinges early in the day. The contractor was supposed to come and finally refinish the floors in the family room and the soon-to-be-nursery, so by the time we leave for our weekend away on Friday we could really relax. I should probably try to remember that idiom about carts and horses, or maybe chickens and hatching, but I’ve never been good with farm animals.

Monday morning, 9 am, no floor guy. 11 am, no floor guy. 4 pm, I get home from work and start calling every company listed under “floor repair and refinishing” in the phone book. It took 5 calls before anyone answered the phone. Both men I talked to suffered from extreme cases of you-don’t-know-anything-because-you’re-a-woman-itis, but I mentioned I had handled things before because E was gone alot, what with being IN THE NAVY. Around here, those are magic words. I then mentioned I was concerned about chemicals and fumes because I’M PREGNANT. The guys agreed to come out for an estimate at 7:30 pm, by 8:30 we had a signed contract and a deposit. Not only can they start as soon as we want, they’ll even work over the weekend while we were already planning to be out of the house. It means I only have to board the dog one extra day and I don’t have to inhale the smelly varnish, plus we can put the house back together next week instead of waiting another month for the last idiot to return our calls.

While the guys do the floors and my dog hang at the doggie resort (seriously, resort) E and I are off to Atlantic City. A weekend in New Jersey isn’t exactly what I had in mind for our last romantic, baby-free vacation (holidays at the in-laws do NOT count as romantic) but we bought the trip months ago and planned to go with friends. Now it will be just the two of us – and a tadpole – staying at a fancy resort, wandering the boardwalk and doing our part to keep the casinos solvent. But the weather should be nice, there’s an indoor pool to float in, and I can always keep myself entertained by eating my body weight in beachfront food. Sunday night we’ll come home to new floors but a dining room full of family room furniture and a guest bed covered in three closets worth of clothes, canned goods and junk. So I plan to enjoy my Jersey Shore vacation, thank you very much. Maybe I’ll see how many all-you-can-eat buffets I can get thrown out of.


I don’t want to jinx anything so I’m going to write in code.

Once there was a girl named Luzanne who was about 14 weeks pregnant. Her husband Kevin was being banished by the evil wizard from the magical land of Nonnecticutt to a place far, far away called Shman Diego. Luzanne was very sad. She did not want to leave her pretty castle to live on the other side of the kingdom. She complained very loudly to everyone who would listen, demanding someone stop the evil wizard. Kevin did not want to distress Luzanne, so he talked to all the king’s men and they agreed to cancel the banishment and allow him to stay in Nonnecticutt for a few more years. Kevin laughed in the face of the evil wizard and was so confident he tore up the banishment paperwork. Now Kevin’s probably going to get a really cool job working as a liaison between the king and Electric Boat, which means he won’t have to go on any quests for at least 3 years and will definitely be home for the birth of his first child. It also means Luzanne doesn’t have to potentially give birth in a Uhaul trunk somewhere in Montana. And they all lived happily ever after. The end.

My fabulous and very smart sister sent me this book today:

The back says: Are you a parent? Are you thirsty? Too many of us allow our infant sons and daughters to lay about idly – napping, drinking milk and sometimes “turning over.” Why not have them mix you a cocktail? Thanks, Baby!
It’s part of a whole series called “Baby be of use” and they’re all available on Amazon. Please feel free to mail them to me as soon as possible. 

My back pain from before moved up to my neck, where it’s been torturing me for a week. I couldn’t turn my head left. I couldn’t lie on the couch or sleep on my side. I was taking Tylenol until my Fit Pregnancy magazine informed me it could give my baby asthma*, so I’ve just been suffering. I can totally sympathize with a toad being poked with a sharp stick. So I decided this toad would hop on down to the Y for a few laps in the pool.

Ok, I’m lying. I didn’t swim laps. I swam one lap and got bored. I hate putting my face in the water so I just breast stroke like a loser, keeping my head up. Even the old people were laughing at me. So I said SHOVE IT OLD PEOPLE, you want to make fun of my swimming? I’ll show you! OK, so I didn’t say it out loud, but I did join the water aerobics class. Ha, that’ll show the old people. You think you’re old? I take water aerobics! Actually, I really enjoyed the class. It wasn’t hard but I did get my heart rate up. Most exercise makes me nauseous, but the nice warm water kept my insides from bouncing around too much. I’m definitely going back for class next week, even if it does make me 70 years old. At least I’ll be a 79 year old with nice definition in my arms.

*Of course, this info was in the same magazine as the article telling me that using topical self tanners and nail polish might give my baby flippers. Oh, and that the “new and improved” weight gain suggestion for someone with my pre-pregnancy BMI was 15 lbs. ARE THEY JOKING? My boobs alone weigh 15 lbs!

I don’t really HAVE any maternity clothes that aren’t my new pants. One Motherhood Maternity shirt, one Old Navy Maternity dress, one pair of Old Navy Maternity Bermuda shorts, and the pants. But my friend the lovely and well dressed TaraIncognita has shown me the light. I may not have to resort to sweatpants and muumuus after all (or at least not every day). Tara directed me to, a really cute fashion blog where Allie, the blogger, just happens to be pregnant. She’s one of those glowing pregnant women, with the shiny shiny hair and clear skin – also known as the kind of pregnant woman I want to slap. But she’s so helpful I can’t hate her. I didn’t know Ann Taylor Loft made maternity. I have a whole closet full of beautiful pashminas and wraps I only wear for special occasions that I now plan to use as scarves all winter. Allie still wears belts, and shows me how I can too. Even though I woke up sicker and pastier than I have in weeks, I actually dressed up today and feel better for it. Maybe this whole growing stuff in my womb thing won’t turn me into a slob after all!

I have a really deep belly button. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle of belly buttons, things go in and never come out. I can’t wear navel rings with sharp points because they end up stabbing me from the inside. I have to clean it with a Q-tip. I know this is probably way too much information, but I’m kind of freaking out. My belly button may be weird but I LIKE it this way. Today I was looking at my growing stomach in the mirror when I noticed I can almost see all the way into it. I just graduated to maternity pants and now my belly button suddenly decides it wants to be part of the Great Baby Show of 2008-2009? Was it feeling left out? I promise, belly button, I won’t forget you. You’ll get plenty of attention, even if you don’t stick out like a third nipple. Please please stay the way you are.


I look wicked pregnant in this dress – but I would have looked pregnant in this dress even if I wasn’t pregnant. Please to be making fun of E’s hat if you’d like. Unfortunately, he almost never has to wear it.








Enjoying our new it-doesn’t-matter-if-we’re-having-a-baby-and-are-expected-to-be-financially-responsible-and-behave-like-adults-YOU-CAN’T-MAKE-US present aka our new boat.




Oh hi, like my jeans? Yes I know they’re very stylish and cute, and look good even with this non-baggy shirt.








STRETCHY WAIST! Really, I can’t tell you how much I love maternity pants. I’m going to stay pregnant forever. No wait! I take it back!




Friday is the less fancy ball, the Khaki Ball. I tried on my dress this morning and am happy to report it still fits and still makes my boobs look fanfrickintastic. Saturday is the keel-laying ceremony for E’s new submarine. The keel-laying is formal for the guys, which means full on Top Gun whites. I can’t take pictures at the actual event but I’ll be sure to get at least one before he can change.

I hate my dog. He ATE a whole bag full of jewelry I bought yesterday. JEWELRY. 5 pairs of earrings, a necklace, my awesome new Gossip Girl style headband. Chewed them up and swallowed them. He’s going to be pooping sequins for a week, but seems to be fine – although pretty scared of me after the screaming fit I had, threatening to cut him open and take my stuff right back out.

I love my new maternity jeans. I bought them a JCPennys for $20. Everyone should be allowed to wear pants this awesome. They have a regular button and zipper but the waistband is stretchy blue sweatpants material. I cannot believe how comfortable they are, like denim yoga pants in a very flattering dark wash. No more holding my button closed with a rubber band, no more jumping up and down to get my old jeans over my butt. I love you maternity clothes!!

I hate scales. I swore I wasn’t going to even look at one until a year after I gave birth, but at the doctor’s office they always weight you. I tried not to look, but when the nurse sets it at 150 before I even step on I know it’s not going to be good. I’m going to outweigh E in another month. Walking, hand weights and (once I get my cute new maternity tankini) laps at the Y are not to keep me from reaching beached whale sizes before this is over.

I love my friend FunnyFace, who reminded me of this on my dancing baby post. I was so busy picturing my own baby dancing I forgot about it!

I had what was supposed to be a quick checkup yesterday, but my doctor was running really late. Normally I get annoyed when people are behind schedule but since she had just delivered someone’s child I’ll forgive her tardiness just this once. They had just planned to use the Doppler (like the weatherman?) to check the heartbeat but since I’m right at 12 weeks the nurse said that machine can’t always hear it, so she set up the ultrasound machine to save time. My doctor ran in, squirted that stuff on my stomach, and two seconds later I saw my actual baby. Not a blob, not a tadpole, a real human baby. It had arms! And a face! It waved at me! But no word on the hamburger/hot dog situation yet. The doctor tried to take a picture but it was moving so much it’s all blurry. But I don’t really mind, moving is a good thing. Baby obviously inherited it’s super cool moves from E. He had a meeting at 10:30 and didn’t make it to the appointment, so he’s a little annoyed I got to see the baby dance and he didn’t. I have another “quick checkup” on October 17th, so hopefully it will include another surprise ultrasound. I finally feel 100% confident in saying I’m pregnant, I’m having a baby, and my baby definitely has two arms.

P.S. Quick moving update: There’s a possibility for a super awesome shore duty job here in Groton. Chances of San Diego are down to about 50%. I’m giving it two weeks before I start planning on moving for real.

E just called to let me know his orders came in to the command today. He (we) are supposed to report to San Diego in March. I think after that he said something about how this isn’t definite yet and they’re still fighting the move and his boat really wants to keep him and if we HAVE to move he can probably get shore duty because he skipped his last rotation, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I was too busy imagining what moving 3000+ miles while 9 months pregnant will be like.

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September 2008
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