The Extreme Baby Rap

I get it. It's a cute fleece swaddler/lightweight snow suit.

But what's with the photography? This suit is supposed to keep the baby warm...but he looks like he's freezing (and pissed off).

And why is he in the brush?


I Heart My Baby Doppler

I know, I know...it's been ten days since my last post. I'm probably losing loyal readers left and right. And I do apologize.

So far my second trimester has been a total bore. My OB says I should enjoy this part because I have no symptoms and a lot of energy. In my eyes, this is just the calm before the storm. It won't be long before I can't see my feet, shave my legs or hug my husband. It won't be long before I won't be able to wear one article of clothing from my pre-pregnancy days. (Sigh)

I have, however, found a way to bide my time during this uneventful pregnancy phase! Thanks to our ever-evolving world, I can get my hands on gadgets that weren't so readily available just 5 years ago.

Every night for the past four nights, I have been listening to the cub's heartbeat. Yep, I "rented" a baby doppler, a.k.a. fetal heart monitor. And, I'm pretty much in love with it.

The baby doppler has really brought our family closer together. The three of us really enjoy our daily game of tag. Jeremy and I laugh and the cub laughs, and all is right in the world...


Happy 16-Week Birthday Fetus!

Inside this beautiful lady bump is our little chick. Will our little chick be Audrey Kathleen or William Preston? We'll only know once it hatches.
Only 168 days to go!


I am a Neanderthal, Hear me Grunt

This evening I had the pleasure of being described by my husband as a "Neanderthal." As I stared at him blankly, unsure as to why he would call me such a name, he quickly described the previous ten minutes leading up to his comment:

"Kate, when you woke up from your nap you looked around as if you were unfamiliar with your environment, stretched, then let out three burps. You then came over to the table, sat down, and started eating off my plate with your fingers. Now you are standing before me with your shirt pulled up and your hand down the front of your pants itching your lower belly."

So, maybe being pregnant isn't the prettiest. But I think the word "Neanderthal" is a little harsh coming from a man. Men do all sorts of unflattering things, and they aren't considered anything but "men."


My Twisted Mind

I've read many mother-to-be books, and all of them mention the increased amount of hormones will induce steamy-hot-romance-novel type dreams. And maybe I have had a couple of those, but what about the dream I woke to about 45 minutes ago...

Jeremy and I were in a waiting room of sorts. We are surrounded by other couples who look clueless and terrified and then happy families with diaper bags and car seats. We're one of the clueless and terrified couples.

A few minutes pass before a nurse walked over to us and said, "The adopting family is still in with your baby. They have about 15 minutes before their time is up, then you can go in for 5 minutes." She then proceeds, "Before you are permitted to see the baby, I need you both to sign this release form stating you are still wanting to give the baby up for adoption."

(Hold the train...I gave birth, haven't seen the baby, and I'm giving it up for adoption...what the hell?)

As the nurse is still standing above us, I look up say, "Well, Jeremy and I haven't ever discussed giving the baby up for adoption." I then look at my husband and say, "Babe, do you want to give our baby up for adoption?" Without hesitation he replies, "Well, since we're here and that family from Michigan already wants it, we might as well." So, we both signed the papers. (Obviously in this dream world I do whatever my husband wants without question.)

Before long we're escorted into a new room. In the center of the room were three spinning glass cases. Inside these glass cases were infants sitting in car seats...just spinning around. Some of them were sleeping, others awake and looking around, but none of them were crying.

Jeremy and I walked around these cases trying to guess which baby was ours, but we couldn't figure it out. One baby would have my eyes, while another baby would have his dimples.

Before we could come to any conclusion, we were escorted into yet another room and sat down in blue office chairs. A nurse then brought our baby to us, wrapped up tightly like a little burrito.

As soon as I had the little one in my hands, I started to unwrap the burrito as I wanted to see if it was a boy or a girl! The nurse blew a whistle to get my attention and pointed to a large sign on the wall that read "PARENTS GIVING THEIR INFANT UP FOR ADOPTION MAY NOT KNOW THE SEX OF THEIR CHILD." (Damn, this dream totally sucks.)

Our focus on gender was quickly averted as we noticed a huge cut down the side of our infant's face. It started at the the top of "it's" head and went down to "it's" ear and was being held together with about 100 stitches. The nurse told me that the doctor had to use forceps to get the baby out, as it's head was 10 inches and 15 ounces big, but the size has went down to 9 pounds since birth. (This nurse is always so helpful and makes total sense).

Next thing I know my mother and in-laws are in the room. My in-laws don't even want to hold the baby. My mom doesn't either but I made her. Judy (Jeremy's mom) tried to help my mom hold the baby because my mom is afraid she's going to drop the baby. This is because my mom is left-handed...and everyone knows left-handed people have a difficult time doing things right-handed people do easily.

So, Judy and my mom are trying to position the baby correctly so it's head is supported. Then, silence. Judy backs up from the chair and our infant's head is detached from it's body because my mom didn't support it correctly. (All you lefties should make note of this!)

I'm in tears, take both baby parts in my arms and just start freaking out. Of course, the nurse wasn't around and I had no idea what to do. Nobody would help me, they just glared at me as if I was the reason my mom couldn't hold a baby correctly. I pulled myself together and forced the head back on the body, just like a Barbie doll.

As I looked around, I noticed all the other families were holding plastic-headed babies as well. However, now that I'd attached the head onto the body, my entire baby was DEFLATING!

Again, I panic, and call out for the nurse. This time she came to the rescue, quickly picking up the baby, opening up the bottom of the burrito and then whipping it through the air to fill the infant's body and head back up. (Similar to how I open the produce bags at the grocery when they are stuck together.)

Our time is up and we are never going to see our child again.

•••next scene...

I'm running back into the building where our baby is and frantically searching for the nurse the had us sign the papers to give up our baby. As soon as I saw her she ran toward me, hugged me, and said, "I knew you'd be back. I knew you'd change your mind. So I didn't process your paperwork." At that moment, I realized that yes, that's what I was there for...I wanted my baby back!

The nurse then apologized for being so mean to me earlier, but that she hates mothers who give their infants up for adoption just because they are clueless about being a parent. (Well, that sums that up.)

She then took me into a room I've never been in before... where four new nurses in white attire, resembling angels, are holding my baby. Michael Buble's song "Home" was playing in the background. I sat down in a nice, puffy white chair and the nurses gently laid the baby on my lap and whispered, "Here is Audrey, your beautiful baby girl."

At this point I start crying out of joy. My baby is a real baby and no longer had a plastic head! In fact, this baby isn't even the same baby I held before!

Jeremy then busts through the door (he must have been parking the car), kneels down by my side, and strokes Audrey's thick black hair. This baby actually does look like us! I continued to cry which ultimately woke me in a whimpering confused state.

•••The End•••

I must say, I am deeply disturbed by this entire dream experience.
I can only conclude the following:
1. Left-handed people are evil and will turn your baby into plastic. (No offense, Mom.)
2. People from Michigan are secretly adopting Ohio infants with the hope that the baby will grow up to be an excellent football player and can be passed off as 100% Wolverine.
2. My labor is going to be so difficult, I will pass out, not remember it, and wake up with a 9 pound, large-headed infant.

Who knows?


The Lalapanzi Travel Bed

Designed by two South African mothers, "Lalapanzi" is Zulu for place to sleep. Retail cost: $167.00

You may not know "Lalapanzi" is English for dog bed.
Retail cost (small bed): $20.00


The Bringing-Home-Baby Outfit

In the last few months I've made some wonderful "internet-friends" on Babycenter.com. Our most recent topic, "The Bringing-Home-Baby Outfit," has sparked some flavorful discussions! Most of the husbands are wanting to dress the baby in some sort of sports attire. The wives think differently.

As you may suspect, Jeremy and I are in the same boat.



I think we all know the baby will look washed out in red. I mean, scarlet. :)


Backne: Am I 31 or 13?

Me: "I'm so sick of this backne."
Jeremy: "I'm so sick of you picking it."

Ahhhh, marital bliss. :)