Belly Button Blues (belly belly)

Last night I was sitting on the couch, playing with my belly button. It has gotten very shallow and large. So I play with it. It's kinda fun. Better than picking my nose or scratching my butt, right?

So I was sitting there and decided to perform an experiment. I pushed out my stomach and my belly button was almost even with my belly. I sucked in my stomach and then it went back in. So I did this about 10 times. Out, in, out, in, out, in. The more times I pushed it out, the further out it went. By the end my belly button was practically an outy! ACK!!!

During my experiment, I pushed out my belly and looked at my belly button. It was out like normal and then all of a sudden it moved even more by itself and then returned to where it was. I was like "WHOA, that was weird!" I guess the baby wanted to play too.

A couple of days ago the baby played a lot with my belly button. Pushing pushing pushing was all I felt one morning right on my belly button. During that time, my belly button was sore and very tender. I couldn't even touch it.

So anyway, Petey said I'd ruin my belly button if I continued to do experiments. He says I'm going to have an outy anyway, so why speed up the process?

Better stock up on some band-aids.

An Apology to James Blond (oops, Bond)

I'm sorry Daniel Craig. You proved me wrong. You are a really good Bond. I really enjoyed your movie last Saturday. I might see it again. Petey did.

I take back all the mean things I've said about you. You are not a girly boy with a girly gun. You are not "less of a man" because you shave your chest. You are not a wannabe Sean Connery. You are not as dry as a stick.

I like you. And I hope you stick around. Be sure and keep the swimsuit.

Turkey Talk

Thanksgiving week came and went in a blink of an eye. I knew it would too. I was thinking Wednesday afternoon (after getting off work early) that I'm going to wish on Monday that it was Wednesday again. And I do. A lot.

Petey & I don't get to spend a lot of quantity time together. Quality time always, not quantity time. Especially with 2 jobs we both work that keeps us apart on the weekends. We made up for that time the past 5 days. And we got spoiled. And now we are back to the daily grind. And sad.

We had a lot go on this past week. Got a new 50 inch flat-screen TV (that's sitting on the floor); had our first baby shower (with all the gifts stacked on the floor); put up the Christmas tree and lights (with the rest of the decorations on the floor); took puppy dog to the doctor and groomer (he lays down on the floor sometimes) and shopped a lot (the stack of bills we'll get will reach the floor).

The first baby shower was exciting. And a little overwhelming. I got lots of big items (car seat, stroller, booster seat, swing, bouncy seat, etc.) that came in huge boxes. At the beginning of it all, I started to panic a little and question my actions. All this stuff for one person? No way! Do I have any idea what I have gotten myself into? Probably not! I guess I'll find out soon huh?

All this worrying is getting to me. I got myself so scared late at night at the mall (I was with my Petey, not alone) I couldn't wait to get home to where it is safe. I feel so vulnerable in this stage of my pregnancy. If you don't see me for a while, I'm sure I'll be at home, locked in. You might find me in the closet curled up in a ball...on the floor.

Buying for Baby

I was going to make this post "The Many Mes" but I don't have the time or energy to go into that yet. Maybe next week.

So buying for baby. It's starting to ooze out of my system. I didn't buy anything for baby at first, using the excuse that I don't know what "it" is (boy, girl). That lasted - oh - about 17 weeks. I'm sure the credit card appreciated the resting period.

Then I stumbled across a few things that I couldn't resist buying. They were "unisex" items: toys, stuffed animals, etc. I bought a blue St. Jude t-shirt and the first thing Petey says is "That's for a boy." I said "Hello! Haven't you heard of a white skirt and white bow to go with it! It's unisex!"

Unisex is a funny word. Do you say YouNeeSex? OooNeeSex? UhNeeSex? I dunno.

Okay, focus now!

Granted, I'm not full force just yet, but I do see the workings of a mad woman.

I'm still debating whether or not to get up on Black Friday at 4am to stand in line at Toys R Us. I'll probably have some hormonal surge and have to be there by that time. For something crazy like the newest Cabbage Patch doll or Transformer. (Does that show my age or what?)

Either which way, I'm going to have to keep myself together and keep these bills in line. Otherwise, strange men will be knocking down my door. And they won't be shouting Ho Ho Ho.

Weepy

I'm so dang emotional it's annoying.

I cried when Emmitt Smith won Dancing with the Stars.

I cried watching Kermit sing with Lena Horne on YouTube.

My sister sent me a card in the mail and I cried.

I cried watching Elf last night.

My dog made me cry just by looking at me. Even with drool hanging from his mouth.

I cry when I hear the Family Ties theme song. Thank goodness it's not often.

I sniffed at Elvis' gravesite.

I cried when I heard my favorite Christmas song on 103.7.

Seriously, I need to stop.

Walking in Memphis...

Tomorrow will be a wonderful day. I'm going to visit the biggest America's 3rd-largest health-care charity, St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. I can't wait. I've been wanting to go for 6 years now and I've finally gotten the opportunity to go and tour the hospital. I'm so thankful to be part of an organization that offers financial and volunteer contributions to the research and treatment of children with cancer.

Ironically, at my last doctor's appointment last Friday, I gave blood for a Quad Marker Screen test. It was optional, but I figured I would take the test anyway. This test basically tests me to see if I am at a high or low risk of carrying a baby with a birth defect.

They said no news is good news. And I haven't heard anything, so I figure I'm in the clear.

But you do have to think about the "What if..." What if I did get a call? Would that change anything? Would it change our decision on whether or not to keep our baby? Of course not. I love this child like no other and nothing would change the way I feel. (Sounds like a song lyric, huh?)

We are also going to Graceland on Saturday morning. Yes, it's the obligatory tourist stop whenever you are in Memphis. I've been listening to my Elvis CD all week continuously. I better stop though...I'm starting to crave a fried peanut butter and banana sandwich.

Speaking of "hunka-hunkas" Deuce-Deuce won the championship of Dancing With the Stars. I'm so happy for him. He deserves it!

If you have 8 1/2 minutes to spare...

Check out Jennifer Holliday at the 1982 Tony Awards. Trust me, you'll enjoy it.

Who wants to see Dreamgirls with me on Christmas night?
Otherwise, I'll have to drag my husband.

The Art of Nesting

Yesterday, I had a moment. I got this sudden urge inside of me to start getting ready for baby. No more putting it off. Now is the time to prepare! I think the Goodwill postcard set me off: "We're going to be in your neighborhood this week picking up household items and clothes." That's the calling I've been looking for. About dang time!

The baby's room was (until yesterday) the dog's room slash guest room. It had a huge dog crate (that now the dog is growing out of), a dog bed, a human twin bed, a radio and a bedside table in this room. It also was my junk/crafts/misc. room, where we would store items that didn't really have anywhere else to go. Christmas wrapping paper, bags, gifts, scrapbooks, notebooks, etc.

Petey & I rearranged the office and moved the dog crate in there. Then I started to clean out the dog/guest room. What on earth possessed me to keep half the stuff I did is mind-boggling. I didn't even look at the stuff I was putting in the trash bag to give away, I just started piling it in there. Like a mad woman. On a mission.

Once I finished the junk room I moved on to my closet. One whole trash bag just for my closet. Sad, isn't it? I couldn't stop, anything, everything, things I haven't touched in six months were out, thrown on the floor and then into the trash bag.

I started to move my way in the office, slithering in like a snake. Petey was in there rearranging items and trying to organize as well. I started to take things off the shelves and look at them, giving them the 2 second "keep or trash" glance before I would take them. I think Petey saw the look in my eye and asked me to leave. He would work on his room by himself, he tells me. I gave him the glance too. Needless to say, I decided to keep him.

What's sad is there is probably $2000 worth of stuff (aka crap) in these trash bags that has hardly been used. Clothes (some with dry cleaning tags on them!), shoes, a Kate Spade purse and makeup bag, Brighton wallet, household goods, games, candlesticks, frames, lamps, posters, tote bags, paintings, etc.

But I don't care. I just want it out of my house. Out out out out out out out. No more!

I'm not done yet. We still have to disassemble the bed and move it out. No, it's not going in the trash, it's going to a storage unit until we have room for it. Okay, so a storage unit = parents house but who's really paying attention here?

Let me live crap free until my first baby shower on Thanksgiving. Give me 2 weeks and I'll give you 25 years of my life. Deal?

Pick a Card, Any Card...

Okay, so you picked the race card. How fun is that. Let's discuss.

This post has spurred from watching an episode of MTV's True Life series. Last Sunday I was watching the epsiode titled "I'm in an Interracial Relationship." And while it caught my curiosity I came to the realization (after a while) that "Hey, I could be on this show too!" I forget sometimes.

Yes, I am too in an interracial relationship.

Now for those of you that know me and know what I look like you are probably saying "Yeah right" but on paper, my husband and I are from a different race. Which isn't really that big of a deal. At least I don't think so. And I don't think that we have ever been looked down upon because we are together. A couple of questions have come up over the years but nothing that is earth-shattering or much of a relationship-breaker. We could have huge differences that affect us every day, so I'm happy (and grateful) that this isn't one of them.

Hey even my dad calls me a coconut. Brown on the outside and white on the inside.

But now that we are multiplying, a few questions do come into play. Basic questions like what is the child going to look like, what ethnicity are we going to put down on school records, how will his "mixedness" affect him at school, in the future?, etc. Mixedness isn't the right word but you get it.

Speaking of school, I remember when my friends and I would share report cards in Elementary School. I always thought that it was strange that I had a "4" under "Ethinicity" while ALL my friends had a "5." I never asked the teacher or my parents about it (I was painfully shy), and it really didn't affect me that much, but it was something that I did think about. Why did I get a 4? What's wrong with me? What did I do wrong.

I figured it out in junior high. Finally after 6 years of that question coming up every six weeks I had the answer. And it was a major "DUH" that went through my head.

I want my child to appreciate where he/she came from. What his great-great grandparents had to do to become American citizens. On BOTH sides of the family. Yes, my husbands family came over on a boat, mine over on a wagon. I want my child to embrace his/her heritage, something that I DID NOT do until much later in life. And I regret it so much.

Another addition to the looooooong list of things I want to teach and instill in my child.

But the fact of the matter is, you never cross it off.

Go Deuce-Deuce!

Shuffle ball-change shuffle step

Poking, prodding, moving, pushing is what I'm feeling. Way in the depths of my belly. I thought it was just a hunger pain or gas, but no, when the feeling MOVED across my body, I knew. Recently (like today) it's become continuous and steady. And it feels like it's happening in rhythm.

So all you Ann Miller or Gregory Hines fans are in for a treat. I'll have my baby "Shuffling off to Buffalo" in no less than one year after birth. Hey, if it works, you might see me on some 3am infomercial telling you that your child can do the same too. Go ahead and send me $19.99 (plus S&H) and I'll get you the limited edition signed copy.

The hard part is not thinking about it and trying to move on with my day. Good luck to me.

And in current events, my ex-TV boyfriend is gay. I'm kinda sad but not surprised. Props to the first REAL blogger (at least I think so) for coming out.

15 1/2 weeks and no weight gain

Not that I'm looking forward to being a huge cow, but I'm still 10 pounds less than I was before I got pregnant. I'm not sick anymore, so that's not the problem. I'm eating my food (most of it) so that's not the problem. I don't know what is wrong. I feel like I'm not living up to my "pregnancy" responsibilities.

During this weekend, I was REALLY wishing that I was a big pregnant woman. Then some people would take a little bit of pity on me and not give me an earful of crap. If you know what I'm talking about then you know what I mean.

I still get the "I can't even tell!" and the "Really??" a lot. I guess being fat beforehand brings on those responses.

I'm sure one day I'll wake up and just be enormous so I should enjoy it now. Too bad none of my clothes fit. That would be a nice bonus.

Ugh.