Today is M*’s Birthday. He’s a swell guy and we like him a lot. Sometimes his humor is very awkward, but that’s the way he is and we like him the way he is.

Happy Birthday, M*!

Sleep is being very mean to me lately. Teasing me. Bastard.
The one full hour of sleep that I think I got last night/this morning happened around 6am. During this time, I remember a dream in which Matt and I were fighting. He had a gun. And I had the ingredients for biscuits. And we were standing off. There we were, across from each other, with only a table in between us. He was pointing the gun at me. And I was ferociously adding eggs to flour.
He tells me that I could have appeased him by simply making the biscuits.
Good to know.

Every day, I walk the same path from my parking lot to my office. And every day, I walk past one of the many Tourney Town Shoes that have been dispersed around the city, I think, because of the Final Four that’s happening here.
I’ve seen these shoes around town for weeks now, but I’ve only really paid special attention to the one that I walk past every day. And today was the first day that I noticed that it did in fact say “Tourney Town, USA” instead of what I originally thought it was advertising, a marathon or something attached to this place.

Turkey Run, Tourney Town, it’s all the same, really.

Sometimes I just get tired of trying. Ok, that’s not true. Because honestly, I’m not very good at trying in the first place.
I mean, let’s face it. In a competition of keeping long-distance relationships, I am one of the world’s worst. Hell, even some close-to-home relationships have suffered because of my lackidaisical attitude.
And to be completely honest, sometimes I try to keep up with some relationships, not because I really want to, but more because it feels like a competition. Because I just can’t understand why the other person would not want to have a relationship with me.
But what I am tired of is seeing really good, really loving people trying their hardest to keep up with relationships because they see potential in a person or because they have a memory of what that person used to be – and yet all they get is grief. All they get is to be made fun of or talked about. Or worse – forgot about.
And I find that very tiring.

We went to target last night and bought this. Great, because it matches the wood type of the crib and armoire. Bad, at least last night it seemed bad, because Murphy’s Law is so true and evil. One of the pieces was missing. And so it sits unmade in the future baby room waiting on piece B to be delivered.
But by this weekend it will be done.

I hope.

Well, the future baby room is now free of everything non-baby related. And it is already full of baby related items. But those baby related items in no way make the baby room ready for occupancy. Unless one is satisfied with jumping over hurdles of baby shower gift bags. Which I am not. Because I am a safe pregnant person.
But Kyle’s present is up on the wall and looking fantastic and after tonight the curtains that my mom made (left in picture) will be up
. Did you see the comforter too? My mom also put that together. Isn’t she wonderful? Did I ever tell you that she made my wedding dress also? This baby is going to be so lucky to have a grandmother that is so constructionally (?) inclined.
So it feels good to have all of the junk out of the room. And hopefully after tonight, much will be arranged on bookshelves and the room will feel somewhat organized.
Yay for organization!

oh yeah, if you want to see multiple pictures of me opening shower gifts, you can go here.

From a pregnancy forum:
“the 10 lb + babies love hanging out right under the ribs and pushing up into the rib cage…”

Please dear god…

Maybe I’m growing out of my self….Or back into myself…or….

Some might have thought, by the way I was carrying on conversations on Saturday night, that I was drunk. That, of course, was not the case. But I talked. And I talked. And then I talked some more. I started talking before the party even started. I was jovial. I was laughing and being laughed at. I was, at times, the center of a conversation.
The CPH has, on several occasions, made it known to me that he is tired of keeping up conversations for the both of us. And I’ve fought with him, telling him this is how I’ve always been.

But, is that true? Have I always been one to shy away from group conversations? I honestly can’t remember.

But I can say that I had a great time on Saturday night. Even though I felt a bit chatty. At times, I felt uncontrollable. But in the end, it felt natural. And right.

Today is K*’s birthday.

She looks crazy in this picture and really (REALLY!) she’s not. She’s one of the sweetest girls I’ve met. Granted she was a bit sloshed that night…and pregnant…
Which happens all the time….I mean…she didn’t know she was pregnant!

Today is a happy day. Today marks the 3 year anniversary of our good friends, Z* and S*. I still remember when S* was just a glimmer in Z*’s eye. I still remember when he wrote an email to the CPH and said, after meeting S* for the very first time, “your friend S* is the most naturally beautiful girl I have ever seen”. And I still remember, almost immediately, going out to the steps, lighting up a clove and calling S* to tell her what this near-stranger had said about her.
And less than a year later they were married.
They are one of my favorite couples, really.
Sheesh, I’m really sad that I don’t have a picture of them together, but as soon as I get home and go through all of our old photos I’ll find one.

Happy Anniversary to the M-M*’s!—————————Correction: The CPH just found the email that Z* sent so many years ago and he says that S* is and I quote “one of the most absolutely naturally gorgeous women I have ever seen”. How sweet!

Last night, James and K* were recapping their first experience at their Lamaze class to a group of us, two of whom (the CPH and I) start the classes tonight. K* said, and James agreed, that the purpose of the class was, more than anything, to calm James of his fears of all things medical (specifically needle and blood related). The only other mother in the group confessed that she and her husband had taken the fast track class which only lasted one day. Immediately the CPH looked over at me and asked why we didn’t choose the fast track class.
I am a planner. I’ve said it before. I am the girl that, even when driving to a familiar but not intimately familiar place, likes to know at least 3 lines of directions….Turn right on so and so, be looking for this and then you’ll turn right and then you’ll find that road….
Also, I have no idea what pain-alleviation methods I plan on using. Do I want to go all natural? Do I want modern medicine to help out? I figure this class is just the thing I need to help me make my decision.
So that’s why I’ve chosen the five week class. And that’s why I’ll be overly-prepared, but still a nervous wreck. And that’s why the CPH is taking the class with me. So he can be the calm one taking care of his crazy pregnant wife.

So many of us have had the dream before. We’re on our way to somewhere – class, the airport, a very important meeting – but we just can not make it there in time. Usually I have this dream when I’m feeling a little stressed about an impending event. Last night, for example. Except I was trying to get to an appointment with my doctor. And I had to walk through a mall to get to his office. And I had no idea where I was going.
I had a friend with me and she kept wanting to stop at all the stores even though we both knew I was late to my appointment. I finally just left her behind, telling her to come find me once she finished shopping.
I remember getting to the office….after walking up many stairs and down many hallways…And I remember knowing that I was about 30 minutes late…I don’t remember, however, if I ever made it in to see my doctor.
Another dream I remember from last night (or a part of this very same dream) also had recurring themes, but with a different twist. I was alone in my brand new car. It was silver and I’m pretty sure it was an SUV. Because I was late (for something…or the appointment), I haphazardly parked on the street. As I walked away, I noticed that my car was sliding toward (towards?) an open garage. For some reason, it was more important for me to get to where I was going than to stop my moving car and I would not have turned around without a man screaming from the driveway of the open garage that my car was coming toward(towards?) him. When I got back to his garage, all I could see was that my car had been transformed into a 2D version of itself and was lying (laying?) in defeat under a large screened but clearly old (and much more experienced in the art of fighting) television.
Next I remember calling my dad and telling him what had happened and crying because I had just bought the car the day before and I didn’t even have insurance on it. He told me everything would be fine because he had thought ahead and had gotten the insurance yesterday. He was not angry at all. Instead, he was warm and caring, telling me to leave the car and he would take care of it.
That last paragraph is actually the strangest part of the dream. I never would have called my dad the instant something bad happened. It was always my nature, when he was the one to call, to hide things because of how I knew he would react. And I find it really hard to believe he would be all warm and caring. He’s more of strict and “let ‘em know that you’re disappointed” kind of guy.
But that’s another topic for another session.

So many things to do….so little time.
The room that will become the baby room is still a huge wreck. Actually, it’s even a bigger wreck than before since we had guests weekend before last and as the CPH was putting sheets on the futon in the guest room, the futon broke right in half, so he had to haul that futon out of the guest room, haul the futon from the future baby room into the guest room and then had to put the broken futon somewhere and that somewhere happened to be the future baby room.
But the CPH is being all good-husband-like and tells me that the future baby room will be all cleaned out by the time I bring home the shower presents next weekend. And right now, I’m trying to decide how important it is, seeing as how we’re looking pretty seriously at houses to buy, to set up things like a crib and a huge armoire.
For those who are wondering, we went and saw the house twice this weekend. We went on Saturday with James and his lovely wife and their two lovely friends. It was very gracious of Mr. Real Estate Man to let us all in and answer all of our questions. It was not so gracious of him, however, to act totally not excited about the house and pretty much tell us we shouldn’t waste our time on such a beautiful little house. The house has been on the market for a very long time (almost 3 years) and that’s a bad thing in realtor speak. Well, honestly, it’s a bad thing according to everyone we speak to. But everyone we speak to also says that as long as we make an offer contingent on a satisfactory home inspection, we’ll be safe. But Mr. Real Estate Man didn’t even mention anything about the home inspection. Instead, he talked dreamingly about a house that he doesn’t have yet but might have soon on the market in the neighborhood. Which was kind of annoying.
And we went back on Sunday to an open house with the CPH’s parents and we like it more and more each time we see it. The CPH’s father suggested we make a low offer and see if he’s willing to accept.
So. The house was great and we both loved it, but there are some things that make it not perfect. First, it’s not on the same street as all our friends currently reside. Second, it has no yard. At all. Third, it’s been on the market for a ridiculously long time.
I guess we’re still searching…

That’s it. The belly button is almost completely gone. The CPH pointed it out last night and even though I actually do make it a point to do a finger-depth measurement nearly every day, I hadn’t noticed the shallowness.
So I guess it’s official. My stomach is huge. But I’m not complaining. I still don’t have any noticeable stretch marks and despite my complaints at the beginning of the week, I’m still fairly happy with where my weight gain has happened on my body. I’ve really enjoyed being pregnant. I suspect that I might miss it just a little once it’s all said and done.
A friend who will be touring next month for promotion of her newest album asked me if I would be interested in selling crafty things at her merch table at some of the local shows. I’ve been wanting to learn how to embroider (is that really a verb?) some of my paint-ings (speaking of, i really need to work on some new paint-ings). I think this is as good a time as any, so I think I’m going to work on learning how to do that this weekend.
That is after, of course, we go look at another house. Looking at houses is fun.