Good-bye, fishies. :(

Today it was final. I went to the pet store and gave back my beloved fish. With the moving, baby coming, and general chaos I wasn't taking good enough care of them. I didn't want them to die on me, and I figured they'd have a better chance of being fed and paid attention to at the store.

Ok, I know, they're FISH. But I was kind of sad as I wished them good-bye. I've had most of them for a year, and they were my way of spending some of my nurturing energy during a time where I was feeling rather broken in the baby-having process. They gave me an outlet to learn about pets, take care of them, and watch them in their tank doing their fishy things on sleepless nights. They were a good way for me to cope and concentrate on something else for a while.

We'll likely get more fish when we're established here and Samantha's several months old. That'll be fun. Until then, bye Phoebe 1-8, Naomi, Minnie, Shadow, Colonel Pickering, Winthrop, Dodger, and I-really-need-to-name-that-little-guy. Thanks for helping me through this past year. :) Swim safely.

It's gotta be the belly.

So I've noticed something over the past few weeks. People, particularly of the male variety, are very friendly to me right now. Not in a drooling, breast-oogling way, but in a way that shows interest and a bit of friendly flirtation.

Now, to be perfectly rational, it could just be my vanity or my wish to be found attractive at 34 weeks pregnant. *laugh* But seriously - almost everywhere I go, some random guy starts grinning and chatting with me.

Now, four or so years ago, the reason for this extra attention was a little more obvious - I was down to my ideal weight, had a sensational hair stylist, wore attractive clothes, and felt AMAZING. I had people tell me that their teenage daughters commented to them that I was "so pretty" or even "hot." People looked at me a little longer, and went out of their way a little more frequently to help me. Classmates commented on how they wanted to look like me and all in all, I felt pretty damn gorgeous. (This isn't said to try to be a total narcissist - this was the first time in my life where I felt this way for months at a time and it was almost giddy feeling like I looked like I'd felt for most of my life)

Now, though? HAHAHA. Between the health problems over the past couple of years and now the pregnancy, I've put on (literally) about 80 pounds. None of my normal clothes fit me in the slightest, and my maternity clothes are too nice for me to wear around when I'm getting work done on the new house. So I'm usually in sweats with an elastic waistband and one of Kev's old t-shirts (one if not both of these items usually have paint or cleaning stuff on them), hair washed but not done up, no makeup, and slippers. I am not someone that people would normally look twice at, and I've noticed that, in the past, as I've gained weight I've become more and more "invisible" to most people around me.

Until the pregnant tummy showed up around 32 weeks. For a while it looked like it was maybe pregnancy and maybe just fat. Now though, it's obvious. And I love it. I love feeling my little girl inside of me, squirming and kicking and punching her mommy. I don't always love the pressure on my cervix or the toes wrapped around my ribs, but I love knowing that her little life is there and that I get to meet her soon.

So I don't know if my attitude has to do with it - but I've certainly been happy other days when I wasn't pregnant . . . So I really think there's some draw about having a pregnant-looking tummy. Men talk to me all the time now, even joining in my conversations that I'm having with other people. They smile at me and are extra friendly. Women - not so much. *laugh* But I get quite a bit of attention from workers and clerks and random guys on the street.

I mentioned this to my husband today and he grinned (I love the relationship we have) and said he could totally see it. He thinks it has something to do with the male instinct and that, subconsciously, me being with child makes a lot of men feel protective of me, in a way. I've never been exactly a shrinking violet, but I *have* needed a lot of extra help in the past few weeks with carrying items, scheduling things to be done in the house and so on. He thinks maybe there's some primal sense to being able to physically care for me right now that makes guys feel good.

The feminist part of myself isn't sure what to think about this. I've always taken a LOT of pride in being self sufficient and taking care of myself. It drives me batty, usually, when men take things out of my hands that I'm carrying or hold doors from me to try to be "chivalrous" when I'm standing there already. I hate not being listened to and for guys to try to do things for me after I've said "no thanks - I got it." And yet, with a physical need for the loss of this pride over the past few weeks, it seems to have boosted a lot of egos and brought guys happiness in some way. *laugh*

So, is it cultural, or primal? Am I sending off pregnancy pheromones, or is it that I'm truly more of a physical damsel in distress right now? Is it the weakness that makes me attractive, or the sense of duty men have in protecting a woman, or is it just that pregnant tummies are cute and make people happy?

I don't know. I'd love some ideas, though. This is a new phenomenon to me.

Yet another song - but I didn't write this one.

So, in other words, it's good. :D

I don't think this was ever meant to be a mother/baby song, but both times I've heard it now it speaks to me that way. It's called "Bless the Broken Road" by Rascal Flatts.



I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

[Chorus:]
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

[Chorus]

Now I'm just rolling home
Into my lover's arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you.





I don't really believe in fate, and I don't believe that what we went through with all the fertility issues, failed adoptions, severe hyperstimulation, and IVF processes was "planned out" to happen as it did. I don't see God as a sadist. But I'm awfully grateful for where we are now in the process, and recognize that without all the pain over the past several years, we wouldn't be where we are currently. I will always miss our sweet Ayana, and ache for all the lost time where we were childless and hopeless. But I am SO thrilled to have the opportunity I have now, to carry our beautiful baby girl and give birth to her (hopefully) next month. She's truly our miracle.

I wrote a song.

(To the tune of "Do Your Ears Hang Low?")

Does your baby sit low?
Does she wiggle to and fro?
Can you snuggle her a lot?
Can you feel her little toes?

Does she push right on your bladder
and then go BOINGY BOINGY BOING?
Does your baby sit low?





*bows* I know. I'm musically gifted. I'll sign autographs later. ;)

I have a random rant.

I just want to start by saying that I expect absolutely nothing for the birth of my baby from people. I know the economy's hit lots of people really hard, and others have family, time and other financial obligations. People that have wanted to do nice things for me have totally blown me away with their sweetness and generosity, and I am immensely grateful for it.

That being said and meant, I have to say I am going crazy about some of this. I have had two sweet people offer to throw me showers - neither of which was expected. Kev and I had planned to throw our own party later on, with no obligation of gifts. I made a registry in case people offered, though honestly it was mostly to keep track of what I wanted to get before our daughter's born. I put it on Amazon.com because that's where I do the majority of my shopping and we get really great deals from them.

In the past week I've had a couple incredibly dear, well-meaning family members who are attending one of my showers call me up and ask me what I want them to buy me. This makes me kind of uncomfortable, because I don't know what their budgets are and I have serious issues with feeling like I'm a burden on people anyway. But they insist to know what I want. So I tell them they're welcome to look at my registry on Amazon, where I still have items listed all the way from $15 to $190. I figure this is a nice way of avoiding the "what are you going to spend on me?" issue.

However, they get frustrated that I only have registered through Amazon. Now, I *had* registered at Target over a year ago, and I'd also registered at Babies R Us. However, as baby stuff tends to, their stock changes so frequently that it was frustrating to me to keep researching replacements for items that they'd decided to discontinue for whatever reason. Amazon is nice that way because, unless the manufacturer has stopped making it, I'm very likely to be able to find what I want. I like to have items that have been around for a little while and that are highly reviewed by several people - I've seen (and purchased) too many of the "new cute things" that end up being cheap junk three months down the road.

Now, I have *no* problem with people not going off of my registry. I have no problem with them looking at my registry and then finding the items at a different store. I don't even have a problem with them coming to my shower WITHOUT a present! But is it too much to ask that they do it without making me an part of the process? I feel like I'm in a no-win situation.

"What do you want me to get you?"
"Oh, you're too sweet. You know, I'm truly not expecting anything."
"No, I'm buying you something. What do you want?"
"Well, if you'd like to look at my registry, I have some items listed on Amazon.com."
"Are you registered anywhere else?"
"I'm not, unfortunately. I was but they kept discontinuing my stuff so I decided to keep it all in one place."
"Oh. Because I don't usually shop Amazon because *insert some excuse about shipping prices here.*"
"I understand. Well, you totally don't have to go off of the registry if you don't want to. Or, if you want, I get free shipping for most of the items - I can order it for you if you'd like."

*random uncomfortableness on both sides insues here, followed by me saying . . .*

"Well, you're welcome to look and see if you can find it somewhere local if you'd like. I'm not sure who has what in stock."
"*insert frustration about not knowing where else to find said item*"
"Yeah - well, you know, I'm truly fine with whatever you'd like to do. I'm just so glad you can celebrate with me. You truly don't need to bring me anything specific." (this is said sincerely, by the way)
"But I want to get you what you want! Tell me what you want."

...

Am I missing something? Help me out here.

Baby pool :D

Limerick Fun

So Kev and I were IMing each other tonight (sitting all of like, three feet away from each other) and he asked me if I wanted to hear a limerick. The following gems proceeded:

By Kevin

There once was a pie from Seattle,
who thought that each schooday was a battle.
So she told off her boss,
then gave that job a toss.
And now she stays home with the flabble.


Never give poo to a doofus.
Especially if he's a half-wit named Rufus.
You'll find in due time
that his drool will unwind,
and then you will have to call him Poofus.


There was a lonely can of potted meat,
who no one wanted to eat.
So he sat and got dusty,
and his scent it got musty.
And he smelled like a piggy in heat.


There are six rabbits in a warren.
When there were only two it was borin'.
So the rabbits had sex,
then out came the kets.
Now it's a blast even if it's pourin'




By Chris

There once was a Boynana named Fuzzy,
who was sitting down writin' because he
had a fabulous mind,
and needed to unwind -
because his hot wife was a huzzy.


There once was a man from Kentucky,
who found out he couldn't get lucky.
So he pulled off his pecker,
and said "t'hell with Hector -
I'll get boobies and be called Mama Ducky."


Anybody want to publish us? We're cheap.