Archive for February, 2009

26 Weeks

February 26, 2009


I think the technical term is “big as a motherfucking HOUSE, OMG.”

As contrasted with nineteen weeks — just 7 weeks ago! —


More later. 🙂


A day of rest

February 23, 2009

The nesting urge that has so driven me the last few weeks has, finally, driven me to bed. I have completely tapped myself out. This morning, I awoke with deep pain in my pelvis and my legs, and an undeniable cramping sensation. I tried to psych myself into giong to work (after all, I have missed two days of work out of the last 10), but — no. Something stopped me, and I wrote to my office to say I wouldn’t be in, yet again. I called my doctor to let him know about the cramping, and he said to rest up, drink lots of fluids, and just monitor the cramping to see if any pattern has emerged. So far, none has, but I am now marooned in my bed, working on nothing other than growing Biskit.

I didn’t expect such a conflict between the adrenaline and exhaustion of pregnancy. They have often seemed to exist simultaneously these last few weeks. The adrenaline is overpowering — it’s as if I am five minutes away from competing in a race or a show, and my heart pounds with wanting to make sure I have every possible angle covered, wanting to win. Except the race is not five minutes away, but three MONTHS, and so I have no aim for my surging energy. And so – I clean. And stockpile. And clip coupons. And buy diapers. And vacuum Biskit’s room. And clean and disinfect and organize and go, go GO, because all of this adrenaline has to be focused on SOMETHING or else I’ll go mad.

And then I realize I am also practically swooning with fatigue, unable to keep my eyes open for another second, my knees buckling beneath me, my mouth forming words that aren’t at all what I mean to say – and even then, the adrenaline and the hormones are screaming in my ear, “GO! You have no time to waste! No time to rest!” And I push and push beyond the exhaustion, beyond the fatigue.

And end up in bed, eating cookies, downing enough fluids to float the QE2, thinking of nothing but my little daughter, who is flipping around joyfully in her warm aquatic home.


A first

February 22, 2009

Last night, we sang Biskit to sleep with a combination of Neutral Milk Hotel, Hush Little Baby (with some of the foulest lyrics known to man) and Baby Mine. She had been kicking so hard that she actually made me gasp/groan out loud a couple of times, and so Matt decided that some lullabies were just what she needed to settle down a wee bit. And I’ll be damned if she didn’t proceed to do just that. My sweet baby.

Matt’s also started picking out lullabies on his guitar. Have I mentioned how much I love my super-mega-awesome-amazing husband lately? For I love him so VERY, very much. Great goddamn, am I lucky!


25 Weeks

February 19, 2009



This week, Biskit weighs about a pound and a half, and is approximately 14″ long from head to heel. I was never really worried about going into early labor, but I did breathe a little sigh of relief a few days ago — I’ve now passed the point where Biskit could survive if she was born early. (Not that I’m giving you any ideas, Missy – you need to stay put!)

This week also marks the first time EVER that Matt voluntarily turned on an episode of A Baby Story and watched it with me. Funnily enough, before we watched the episode, Matt had remarked, “You really can’t get too much bigger, can you honey?” And then we watched the show and he got an eyeful of a woman in all her 40 week glory. I think I heard him mumble to himself, “Holy fuck – she IS going to get bigger.”

My nesting instinct remains turned to eleven, but now even Matt is starting to get into it. His nesting takes the shape of wanting to fix our slanting porch (which he DID, thanks to a two-ton jack and lots of concrete slabs! My HERO!), and wanting to do a major overhaul of our lawn. Mikey has turned our yard into a knee-deep mud racetrack, and Matt has plans to fence off areas of the lawn, re-seed, dig out the yucky bushes in front of our porch, rip out all the scraggly plants along the front lawn, and plant vegetables. Frankly, he’s kind of on his own there – by the time it’s warm enough to do all this stuff, I will undoubtedly be too big to get down on my knees in the dirt.

In other news, I’m pretty sure we have a name for Biskit now. I’m dying to say it, but I will refrain on the chance that we change our minds. I don’t think we will, though. Frankly, it was right in front of us all along. I’ll give you a hint – Biskit will be named in honor of four generations of women in my family and Matt’s.

So! Week 25! Two more weeks until my third trimester starts (ack!). I cannot believe how time is managing to fly and drag simultaneously.



February 18, 2009


Makes me almost obscenely happy.

24 Weeks

February 12, 2009



Do you notice a certain sameness to what I am wearing in these preggie pics? If so, it’s because I have officially run through my wardrobe. I realized this morning that I have bupkis to wear now that the weather seems to be turning warm-ish. So!! Anybody have warm-weather maternity clothes they might like to offload or loan to a poor mama-to-be??

That’s all for now… Mama’s gotta work!

Bam! Bam! Bam!

February 11, 2009

Where: My Yewterus
When: Last Night


Yes, Biskit was apparently enthusiastically conducting her own one-baby marching band back and forth across my stomach. Her kicks and punches were so energetic that when I put my hand on my tum, she bounced it into the air. Naturally, the moment I tried to put Matt’s hand there so he could finally feel her move, she stopped moving and refused to budge. Stubborn little baby. Obviously takes after her dad.

In other news, I’m pretty sure my pelvis is splitting in two. I thought at first that my soreness had perhaps been caused by me doing chinese splits in my sleep, but no. It’s just my ligaments streeeeeetching out in anticipation of Biskit’s birth. Now my tailbone has gotten into the action, too — it HURTS. Between the hurtiness in the front and the back of my pelvis, I am now definitely waddling along like a pregnant lady. It’s exactly as sexy as you might think.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Nesting, Part 2

February 9, 2009

Yesterday, I did the following:

– Took books back to library
– Bought WashPost solely for the purpose of clipping coupons
– Read circulars, clipped coupons, planned GROCERY STORE ATTACK (which involved three separate stores)
– Bought diapers on wicked sale
– Ran two loads of dishes, unloaded dishwasher (twice)
– Cleaned kitchen
– Cooked healthy lunch from scratch
– Did seven loads of laundry, including our comforter, all towels in the house, sheets, and any rug that was launderable
– Took dog to dog park

And at the end of the day, when my ass was dragging SO BAD that I fell asleep on an unmade bed, I still felt guilty because I hadn’t accomplished enough. So, today, I am staying home — partly out of exhaustion, but mostly so I can do all the cleaning that I didn’t get to do yesterday.

I just finished scrubbing my kitchen and dining room floors on my hands and knees (because the mop wasn’t GOOD ENOUGH). And this was after I vacuumed all the carpets in the house, polished our dining room table with lemon oil, cleaned up from breakfast, swept, straightened up the bedroom and dining room, and scrubbed my white tennis shoes by hand because they’d gotten a little bit dirty.

Apparently, my cleaning compulsion will only get worse! From parenting

“Around the fifth month of pregnancy, the “nesting” instinct can set in. This is an uncontrollable urge to clean one’s house brought on by a desire to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old projects and to organize your world.

Nesting brings about some unique and seemingly irrational behaviors in pregnant women and all of them experience it differently. Women have reported throwing away perfectly good sheets and towels because they felt the strong need to have “brand new, clean” sheets and towels in their home. They have also reported doing things like taking apart the knobs on kitchen cupboards, just so they could disinfect the screws attached to the knobs. Women have discussed taking on cleaning their entire house, armed with a toothbrush. There seems to be no end to the lengths a nesting mother will go to prepare for her upcoming arrival.

This unusual burst of energy is responsible for women ironing anything in the house that couldn’t out run them. Being preoccupied with ant killing, squishing them one at a time for weeks on end. Packing and unpacking the labor bag 50 times. Cleaning the kitchen cupboards and organizing everything by size to the point that you make sure the silverware patterns match when it’s stacked in the cutlery drawer. Sorting the baby’s clothes over and over again is a favorite theme. Taking them out of the drawers and re-folding them, putting them away and doing it over and over again. Nesting will provide interesting stories for years to come.”

I’m pretty sure my house will NEVER be this clean again!

23 Weeks

February 5, 2009

My humps. My humps. My lovely belly humps.


My boobs are bigger than they have ever been in my life, yet they look puny next to my massive tum.


I told Matt the other day that I was planning on performing in March at a couple of low-key events for other dancers (not the general public) and he practically spit out his coffee. “PERFORMING? WHAT?! You’re gonna look like you’re shimmying a basketball!”

Can’t argue with that one, but it’ll be fun to dance with my little Biskit.

I could be imagining things, but I swear she’s already dancing along when I play my Arabic pop in the car in the mornings. Matt gnashes his teeth at my musical choices, but MWAHA — for now, her little ears are all mine!! Matt can introduce her to Modest Mouse after she’s born.

I’ve been thinking a lot about birth lately, and how I’d like for things to go (in an ideal world, obviously). One of the books I’m reading is by Ina May Gaskin, a famous midwife in Tennesee. Her theory is that birth is largely a function of the “sphincter rule.” The cervix is a sphincter, just like your bum, and stress/nerves can impact how relaxed your cervical sphincter will be. It makes perfect sense to me — after all, “poop shame” at work is a well known phenomenon! I’ve known people who will hold it for DAYS rather than poop someplace other than their home turf, where they feel safe.

Anyway, I started thinking about what would impact my own ability to relax into birth, and as silly as it sounds, my first thought was “I’d want Mike Jones with me.” Laugh if you want, but when my Dad was so sick last year, Mikey’s presence was so comforting – to me and to my entire family. Him being there really took the edge off the enormous stress we were all feeling. I know that there have been a number of studies documenting the soothing influence that dogs have on people, including the elderly, the sick and those going through painful rehabilitation from injuries, and I totally understand why.

So, I think that I may try to labor at home for as long as possible, with my sweet doggie by my side. Once things get serious, I will definitely hie my ass to the hospital, but I think having Mikey present during the early stages will be a big help to me.

Now if only I could come up with a way to sneak him into the hospital. 🙂 Anybody have a good disguise for a 65 pound dog they could lend me? I’m thinking a porkpie hat and a trenchcoat could do the trick.



February 1, 2009













I actually didn’t intend to buy so much pink, but that’s what the Salvation Army had. The MOUNTAIN of clothes shown above cost me around $23.

Not surprisingly, Matt has forbidden me from buying any more baby clothes. The stack above joins two more exactly like it. 🙂