Sport Recognition

I've said it before, but it warrants repeating:  shaving while pregnant should earn you an Olympic medal.  If you're right handed; bronze for the right leg, silver for the left, and fucking gold for any sort of bikini line bullshit.

New Office Mascot

Every once in a while, Alex wants me to take a piece of his artwork to the office to show my coworker.  I present our newest piece added to our collection:

Apparently, the dark blob next to the bottom face is some sort of fire situation happening...I was having a hard time understanding the in-depth explanation of this piece from the artist.  I just don't have the same art-savvy mind

Ever Increasing

The difference 4 weeks makes:

Don't let the smile fool you.  It's Monday.  I'm huge.  I'm wearing maternity pants with the giant panel thing tucked up under my bra in a feeble attempt to keep the pants up.  Fake half smiles are a requirement for today.  Based on the pulling of the stripes, this may be one of the last hurrahs for this shirt.

Just shy of 30 weeks people.  Here's to hopin' the next 10 fly by!

Sunday Nap

It was so nice on Sunday.  Windy, but sunny and almost 60 degrees.  Around 1:30, Alex asked if he could take some blankets outside to "relax in the sun."  He's got a rough life and definitely needed some well earned Me Time in the sun.  I sent him out with a couple blankets to the front sidewalk where the sun was shining brightly and it was a bit protected from the wind.

Shortly after I snapped this picture, my presence was requested to help him hold down the base blanket.  And I maybe fell asleep with him for an hour or so...maybe.  But how was I supposed to resist snuggling with this?

Travis coming home woke me up, but not the boy.  He stayed splayed out on the sidewalk for all the neighbors to see.

Travis requested that next time we nap outside we make sure we are on the back deck...apparently being covered in blankets outside the front stoop gave us a hobo-esque look.  What better way to meet the new neighbors?!

Sensitive Pants

I need some new pants.  And I'm not even talking about finally giving in to maternity pants.  But since the thought train has stopped at this depot, let's give maternity pants a little looki-loo for a hot second.  I hate them.  I hate the panel.  I hate that they don't stay up.  I just want my regular jeans.

Anywho, the pants I'm talking about today are sensitive pants.  I can't seem to get them off of me.  It's getting rather annoying...I'm sure not just to me.  Little things bug me more than they should.  I feel like people are judging decisions I make, even though there is not a single shred of evidence to support such a thought.  My patience is at an all time low.  Fun stuff all around.

Here's to hopin' once this beast makes his grand entrance my brains either get back on an even keel or the stopmybrainsfrombeingcrazy pills do their magic again.

I feel pretty! Oh so pretty!

Pretty sure that when the waistband of your sweatpants gets stuck between your giant belly and your leg when you're bending down to go pee, it's a sign the baby has grown enough and we can just be done with this whole pregnancy thing.  Right?

Related note:  All pants not made of sweats material, and all functions requiring pants not made of sweats material, should be banned.

Mom Is Never Right

After a long debate about the reality of zombies:

Alex:  Mom, what do you get when you have 100 and you add another 100?

Me:  When you add 100 plus 100, you get 200.

Alex:  No.  When you add 100 and 100, you get one hundred fifty million.  So...yeah...that's what you get.