This is my dance space - aka: Respect the perimeter, son!

Ok...brace yourself for a pregnant lady rant.

I understand that a pregnant belly seems to give off vibes of, "touch it.  Touch it.  TOUCH IT."  But what I fail to understand is taking that odd compulsion and randomly touching a stranger's belly, just because she's pregnant. 

Imagine a scenario - random strange guy walks up to a woman and just touches her.  At the very least he would get yelled at, probably slapped, and possibly arrested.  And baring mental illness, a fully functioning person, man or woman, should be able to cognitively reason prior to reaching out a hand and laying it on a woman's belly.  Thinking process should include:  1.  Do I know her?  2.  Would I like someone to randomly touch me?...and 3.  Do I want to be slapped today?

After answering all those questions "no", it's time to back away from the hormonal pregnant woman who probably has no qualms about beating you over the head with a very large purse.

I mean, I don't get all up in your bidzness, touching your bits because they seem interesting...so what makes you think I want some random guy that I don't know touching my bits.  Without asking.  Hell, even if you ask...  Creepy random guy stranger danger...hello.

So after my first brush with this I have come up with rules regarding the belly. 

The Belly Rules

1.  Don't reach out a hand and raise your eyebrows - use your words.  So then I can use mine.

2.  Just because you think my belly is interesting - doesn't mean I have to let you investigate it.

3.  I don't care if it is the miracle of life - whilst it is encompassed within my personal space, I am the supreme ruler, queen and rebel leader...what I say goes.

4.  Just because someone else some other time let you - doesn't mean I have to.

5.  If I don't know you - the answer is always no.

6.  Respect the perimeter, SON! 

And on that note - I am off to design a t-shirt that says, "Handing out slaps one touch at a time" across the belly.

Wake me up when there is an ACTUAL tornado!

Saturday mornings are all about sleeping in, staying in your pajamas, and generally being a schleb all day - it's absolutely glorious. 

But this morning - I was woken up by the tornado sirens shrieking outside my windows.  Now, these sirens are tested once a month on a Wednesday, so since it was a Saturday morning...I thought it was legit. 

Heart pounding, I threw on sweats and shoes, grabbed my computer and radio, and hustled the cats downstairs to the basement.  Made a bed out of blankets and pillows on the floor and tried to get reception on my radio. 

The siren was blaring still, the cats were totally freaked out and then I hear it... A completely calm radio announcer telling me that the city of Omaha has decided to randomly test the sirens this morning.  All morning long.

Asshats.

Gosh, I miss California sometimes.  Only sirens you hear are the old air raid ones when they malfunction and only in the older neighborhoods.  I'll take earthquakes any day over a tornado.

So you thought it would be easy to name your child - horror stories from name trauma

So pretty much all of you know that I'm pregnant, expecting my first child.  It's still a few weeks until we can find out the sex of the baby...but being the list maker/planner that I am, there exists already (and for some time now) a list of "approved" names.  Both for boys and girls.  I've shared the list with Thor and while he doesn't approve of all the names, it's at least a jumping off point.

I've heard too many stories of parents waiting to name their kid until they have it in hand and it's crunch time, with the nurse standing by to fill out the birth certificate.

And both my husband and I have serious childhood name trauma ourselves from our names.  So while the smart ass in me (and him!) want to come up with something TRULY spectacular...I am feeling a moment's pause and caution lately.

I don't want my potential daughter to be tormented like I was with the 1980's Star Wars trilogy name all through her school years, because in a moment of "oh, that'd be soooooo cute" I decided to hang the proverbial sign - sending her to school with donut braids and a name that screamed IRONY at the top of its lungs. 

(Disclaimer:  My mother will claim that I asked her to do the donut braids.  But, as I was only 6 years old and couldn't begin to understand the complexities of life, I maintain that she, as the adult, should have known better.)  Love ya mom, but totally gonna pin that one on you.

Or a cocktail waitress' name, or a stripper name, or the name I SWORE to my grandmother I would never, never, NEVER name my child.  Which my mom actually likes. 

And I don't want my potential son to have a name that seems like a cool, unusual name...like the parents are from some other country - let's say Norway, for example.  But is in fact an attempt by academics to place that sign again on a poor defenseless child.  Who will come to realize torment for said name, right about the time he's discovering girls.  And while it's cool to be named after the Norse god of thunder...telling a cute girl at a party that you were named after a drawf king in MiddleEarth doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

And so...here I am contemplating the poor Apples, Kal- Els, and Rumers of the world - they aren't ever living that shit down...trying to think of a name that sounds good with our last name, won't cause undue trauma, hasn't been used 5 million times, and won't get the poor kid beat up in school.

Boy, this is going to be harder than I thought...

I've been the victim of pilferage...shameless pilferage.

Once upon a time (sometime this past Winter), I met a lovely woman at a craft show.  She and I started talking and laughing like old friends in a matter of minutes.  She made these Cuddle Babies - soft fleece guys that looked like gingerbread men.  The babies had a velcro flap that held a linen pillow of fragrant brown rice that you heated up in the microwave, put in the baby, and then cuddled with it.

I LOVE this thing.  It's awesome, I put it in my bed on cold nights to warm up the blankets.  Sometimes I use it as a neck pillow to relax my muscles.  I love it.

Today I was the victim of shameless pilferage of my Cuddle Baby - The minute I turned around, someone took it.  And here's the culprit!

The best weight loss plan even Kate Middleton doesn't know about...

I stumbled upon the best weight loss plan I've ever run across about 4 months ago.  Wasn't looking to lose weight, in fact I was engaging in planning for an event sure to pack on the pounds.

So how did I do it?  Well, let me run through the 5 easy steps to my weight loss.

1.  Get knocked up.

2.  Be nauseous 24 hours a day for 3 months solid, resulting in eating very little.

3.  Sleep all the bloody time.  Sleep like you have a raging case of mono.  Sleep like a college student crashing after a Redbull binge for finals.  Hell, sleep like a fuzzy, one crossed eye house cat named Munchkin - actually I think I put even him to shame.

4.  Have a human being growing inside you that takes between 300-600 calories from you a day.  Every day.

5.  Drink water like you are stuck in the middle of the desert with no hope of ever getting out.  Or like you are half camel.

And voila! 

I've lost over 25 pounds so far.  Crazy.
I'm going to call it the Pod diet.

Brought to you by Butler.  Pod Butler.

Just when you think drinking orange goo and being poked 4 times is bad...

So the weekend was nice and uneventful - but it didn't start out that way. 

Friday morning at the butt crack of dawn I dragged my ass outta bed and drove across town to the base clinic to have a 3-hour glucose test that my OB ordered.  Yes, I know it seems really soon to be having such a test during my pregnancy...but with my family medical history of type 1 diabetes, my OB is being super careful and testing early. 

So I show up and am immediately poked - the base line checked - all good at 110 after fasting for 12 hours.  Then they have me sit down and make me drink 10 oz of this thick, vile orange goo - that is sooo sweet I kept gagging.  

Wait 1 hour.  Although after about 20 minutes, my heart is racing and I feel lightheaded so I ask the nurse if that is normal.  Sure, she says...it's just a sugar high.  Ok??  I've never had a sugar high in my life...I felt like I was having a stroke.  Struggled to keep it down, chugged through like 32 oz of water trying to dilute some of it.

After 1 hour I was poked again.  That's 2 so far.  Then sent to sit back down and wait another hour.  About halfway into the second hour my heart wasn't racing anymore which helped me feel better.  Worked on the baby swaddle I was making since there was nothing else to do.

After the second hour - poked again.  They couldn't find a vein so it took a couple tries.  That's 3 times.  Sent back to my seat, finished the baby blanket and waited out the last hour.  And waited.  And waited.  And waited.  After about an hour and 20 minutes...they FINALLY poke me the last time.  Both arms totally bruised...yay.  Poked 4 times.  So they send me home, told me I would have my results by 5pm.

Great.  On the way out of the office, I was bolting back Gatorade and munching on a Cliff bar...since it had been about 17 hours since I'd eaten last.  The pod was not happy. 

Walked to my car and saw about 3 car lengths away that my rear bumper had been hit.  Asshats!  Sometime while I was taking that test, someone hit my parked car.  No note.  People are vile.  Sit on hold with my insurance company while I walked around the parking lot looking at all the red vehicles looking for matching damage - no luck.  Progressive was great - took my info in less than 5 minutes and had an adjustor call me within 15 minutes.  Awesome.  Totally easy to deal with.

Security forces patently refuses to even take a report since both parties aren't present.  Guess they've never heard of "leaving the scene of an accident" or how to do actual police work.  *eyes roll*  So glad I live off base...cuz heaven forbid there was an actual crime in their jurisdiction, I'd be totally screwed.

Fast forward to today.  Just got back from having the collision estimate done on the damage.   Purely cosmetic - yay.  To the tune of nearly 800 bucks.  Boo.  

On the plus side - can't get any worse, right?  Oh wait...still waiting on the test results.  Maybe I should hold off on that...

Jumping into Maternity - the totally true adventures shopping for the baby bump.

So after a scary turn buying my first pair of maternity pants, which are still too big...and still scare me...I went browsing on Old Navy for some Spring/Summer tops and dresses.

Jackpot - on sale too.  Now, I like rather plain clothing - just punches of color against neutrals, so I can use my monster collection of jewelry, hair accessories, purses, and shoes to dress up or down.  Here are a couple of my favorites -

This orchid pink dress is cute and I have the perfect shoes for it.  It will be cute to wear for my birthday next month when I am down South.  Just need the perfect shade of pink nail polish for my wee piggies.


Then I saw this pretty navy blue dress - which I'm taking a chance on, but Omaha can get somewhat chilly in the Spring and Summer so thought this would be cute with a pair of leggings and boots.  And a cool necklace.











Ok, this purple top was a must have because I LOVE purple - and I'm more of a jeans and sandles type girl in the summer - not sure how that is going to work with being pregnant.  But fingers crossed.

If I like the top as much in person - there are 3 more colors available.  It's becoming kinda fun to shop for maternity clothes now.

                               

Only 16 days until Spring?

So another storm threatened...but didn't actually hit again last night.  Mother Nature is just toying with our emotions again.

I miss green things growing.  I look outside and everything is still dead...no flowers, no grass, bald creepy trees.  So I find it hard to believe that Spring is only 16 days away supposedly.  March 21 is the first day of Spring?  Yeah...sooooo not buying. 

Man, I think I need a trip to the local flower nursery so I can take pictures of actual live plants...maybe that will break me out of my funk.  At least the sun's out - if I stay inside, I can make believe that it's warm...while huddling in sweats and thick wool socks.

The great nursery CLEAN-OUT caper continues...

So I have made some major headway cleaning out the room we're making into a nursery - it was the guestroom/storage up until now.  The double bed has been dismantled, ready to be stored in the basement once hubby and me get the mattresses wrapped in plastic. 

I have spent the last week or so going through the MASSES of clothes, shoes, hats, bags, etc I managed to accumulate over an adult lifetime, and have filled about 15 trashbags with the discards.

We've picked out the furniture that we want - it's really beautiful, but we are going to wait for those glorious Memorial Day sales to get it. 

 We went and picked out the new wall color for the room too - this really soft, warm oatmeal color. 

Since we don't know what we are having yet, and we have a primary color theme regardless, it's a color that will work how ever old the kid gets.

I've made a few purchases already - mostly clothes: onesies, swaddles, bibs/burp clothes...things you can never have too many of.

And books.  Starting to amasse a collection of children's books - mostly the ones I remember from my own childhood.  My mum saved a bunch of them, and she's sending out what she has found.

We also picked out the bedding set/nursery decor that we want.  Dr. Seuss!!  I love Dr. Seuss...who doesn't.  A friend, (thank you Kris!) found this great baby bedding website that has every possible style you could ever imagine. 

The registries are filled out - stuck with Babies R Us and Target to make it simple. 

My brother is expecting his first child too this year, in July, so the cousins will be really close in age. Found out Monday it's a girl!  So have a wee niece to spoil too.  Super excited! 

Bought my first pair of mommy jeans since warmer weather is hopefully just around the corner.  And I have to say...maternity pants are just not comfortable...and they look weird. 

Maybe suspenders are the way to go - because without an ass of my very own to hold pants up and only a weird elastic band between me and mooning everyone...could be a recipe for disaster.