Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Maternity Clothes: Yes, yes and yes. Let's be honest, here. Who wouldn't be more comfortable sitting around in elastic-waisted pants all day? Maternity jeans/leggings/yoga pants are simply glorious.
Sleep? Up every few hours to pee. And then up for an additional fifteen minutes trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. I don't want to talk about how much I miss sleeping on my belly and back. Sigh.
Best Moment of the Week? Feeling Baby Boy M move! Undoubtedly I feel him every day now and it's just awesome. I started feeling him poke around in there towards the end of my eighteenth week and it feels like little fingertip pokes on the inside of my belly. Other times, it feels like a rolling motion across my entire abdomen. It even gives me that "motion sick nauseous feeling" for a few seconds! My other best moment? Buying an undisclosed dollar amount (sorry Hubs) of THE cutest clothes (for myself) that I've ever seen. Enough of that maternity stuff. It looks and makes me feel like a cow. For real. I'm stylish. I follow trends. I LOVE looking great. But some of the maternity clothes I've seen just don't cut it. However, some of the styles that are out today? The tops with the ruching and the ruffles? I just buy one size up and it's long enough and roomy enough for me and baby boy! It hugs my (new) curves and shows off my belly without making me look (and feel) like a house. Best. Week. Ever.
Food Craving? Changes from day to day. It's not that I even crave something specific, but hardly any kind of food sounds good at times. I'm ridiculously picky.
Gender? He's going to be a Nathaniel. Baby Nate. Sigh. Or a Carter (a family name). Hubs vetoed my number one fave immediately. Grayson. But it's not completely off the table yet. I'm tucking it into my back pocket for delivery day. Heh-Heh-Heh.
Belly Button? Haha. This question just makes me laugh. Can you say, "turkey thermometer?"
What I miss? Spicy tuna sushi rolls. Sleeping on my belly and back. Doing simple things like walking the dog and putting my socks on without getting the slightest bit out of breath.
Friday, March 19, 2010
I'm excited to move. Really, I am. I'm excited at the prospect of being first-time homeowners and beginning this new phase in Hubs' and my life together. But I'm a ball of emotions. I'm anxious. I'm upset. I'm excited. I'm simply overwhelmed.
Over the course of these past couple of weeks, I've had to say goodbye to patients that I've known for years. I've been readying myself to say goodbye to a place, to a town that I've lived in for over ten years. I've had to say goodbye to some of places where I've made memories that have shaped me into who I am today.
I feel like I'm breaking up with my favorite dog walkers and my amazing dry cleaning lady. I've loved being able to walk into stores where the owners recognize me and we strike up a conversation, picking up right where we left off the last time I stopped in.
I've been so busy packing, moving and preparing our new home that I nearly cried when I went home to New Jersey this week and saw my parents for the first time in over a month. I choke back tears every time I think about the four hour drive that will soon separate us. Yuck.
I don't even want to write about what the next week holds. Saying goodbye to some of the most compassionate, hardworking and hilarious women I've ever met in my entire life. I honestly wish I could take each and every one of my co-workers with me to Maryland. Saying goodbye to my identity as a nurse. Saying goodbye (albeit temporary, as we do not know what the future holds) to a profession that has taught me so much about life, strength and hope.
I hate saying goodbye.
I really should get back to packing. Speaking of packing, however, I wanted to impart some of the things I've learned over the course of the past few weeks:
1. Hubs and I do not need to buy another bar of soap, another bottle of moisturizer or another box of tampons for a solid two years. I probably could've filled an entire LARGE Home Depot box with these items alone.
2. It's very easy to toss/sell items of clothing when a) you haven't worn them in an entire season and b) there's no chance in heck you'll be wearing them again this season. What am I trying to say? Being pregnant makes cleaning out your closets and parting with JCREW and Lilly favorites extremely simple.
3. No one needs sixty seven pairs of shoes.
4. Individually wrapping and packing your husbands pint glass collection, although tedious and annoying, is laugh-out-loud funny as you reminisce about where those pint glasses were (stolen) from.
5. Sheepie is no help whatsoever.
6. Speaking of Sheepie, no dog needs two dedicated boxes worth of belongings. Dishes, beds, blankets, bones, balls, toys... Spoiled little Sheepster!
7. Packing sucks and there are about a bazillion other things I would rather be doing. Like catching up on my DVR'd episodes of "16 and Pregnant," for starters.
8. Selling JCREW and Lilly favorites as mentioned above, is a prime source of income for the new pair of skinny leg Momma jeans I plan on purchasing as soon as I click "post!"
Welp. Happy Thursday, friends! Sorry I've been such a craptastic blogger as of late- but I promise to remedy that as soon as we're settled a bit further south! Have a fabulous weekend!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
I am not allowed to park in the same garage as the building I work in. It's supposed to be for patients only. However, I don't think many patients drive Ford F150's with all types of construction materials hanging out of the beds. Yes, construction workers, I mean YOU! I see you sneaking into the parking garage before the security guard takes his post out front of the gate. Truth be told, I'm insanely jealous. I would try to do the same thing, but that would entail waking up even earlier than my already 5am wake-up call.
However, I digress.
It makes me giggle, albeit out of frustration, that I have to wake up in the mornings before work, shower, dress only in my proper scrub attire from the waist up, throw on my black North Face fleece, zip it up to my chin, and don black dance pants, so that when I pull up to the parking garage gate and the security guard leans into my car, he will take note that I am wearing black yoga pants and indeed, could never be a nurse working in the building, because no sane nurse would wear COMPLETELY HALF OF THE WRONG OUTFIT TO WORK ONLY TO GET AWAY WITH PARKING IN HER OWN DOGGONE PARKING GARAGE.
At least that's better than when I used to lie and tell the guard at the gate that I was there for my daily radiation treatments.
Once he waves me through the gates, I quickly drive down to the basement level parking where I proceed to park in the furthest corner of the lot and stealthily change out of my yoga pants into the pair of navy blue scrub bottoms that I had strategically shoved into the bottom of my handbag. Don't worry, I've already canvased the area for security cameras. Whew.
So wait, why do I do this? Because I'm crazy? Perhaps. However, I would like to believe it's done out of convenience. My other parking option consists of parking in a satellite lot, five long city blocks away from my building where I will be charged fifteen dollars a day to park. FIFTEEN! It's ludacris, I tell you!
It's bad enough I have to pay ten dollars a day to wear the wrong clothes to work and lie to the securty guard.
Only six more days...
Monday, March 8, 2010
Our new home:
Hubs getting my paint ready for the unfinished living/dining rooms:
Behr Premium Ultra Plus in Cricket (green) and Spiced Cashew (yellow):
The dining room - ready for crown molding and our chair rail:
Our half-finished family room in Wheat Bread:
Friday, March 5, 2010
Hubs: I know you're pregnant and all. And of course, you look amazing. But, sometimes? I feel like I'm living with a frat boy. You burp. You fart. And when we're sitting on the couch watching TV, you even scratch your belly. I feel like I'm back in college.