1. I don't particularly think I look all that pregnant. At 22 weeks, the fashion bloggers all over the internet are pushing out their bumps and cradling them with their hands and talking about having to dress for 'the bump' and I'm like, well, I guess it looks like I ate some burritos earlier... Maybe it's because, as a lifelong dyed-in-the-wool tomboy, I mostly just wear T-shirts, my awesome Gap maternity jeans, and cardigans all day every day and those don't exactly lend themselves to the bump-showin'? But even when I'm just at home and I kinda stick my stomach out, it's still... I'm not even really convincing myself here, guys, and I'm the one whose insides are being steadily bruised by someone's tiny elbows.
Some women blossom into gorgeous curves with a cute bump and people coo at them on the street. Some women wear little dresses and can pull off talking about their bumps like they're this big deal, sort of petting them while they speak. Some pregnant women, at this stage? People see them on the street and go, "Awww, I wonder when she's due!"
I walk out the door and people think, "Well, she needs some exercise. You know, if that girl wore like a little dress she would really look pregnant. She should seriously go running."
2. I am trying to get my baby to like The Lion King as much as I do, and I'm starting in the womb. I always told myself I wouldn't do a 'theme' nursery, because I usually don't like them. Then I discovered Buy Buy Baby does Lion King bedding. So... now it's a theme nursery.
That's not all, though.
I am listening to The Lion King Broadway Soundtrack preeeeeetty much nonstop in my car. This is problematic, in that "Circle of Life" now makes me bawl like a tiny child because it's so meaningful now (or, you know, hormones). Oh, and "He Lives In You" also makes me cry. And also the last song where he's climbing Pride Rock, and then at the end he does his roar? Yep, you guessed it. Waterworks.
The other day I went to meet Jason after work so we could drive over to have dinner with my in-laws, and I think the guy next to me at the stoplight at one point seriously thought I had lost my damn mind or was going through one crazy breakup. "Circle of Life" was playing, and I was trying to sing along but it just meant so much you guys, just so profound.
I had to sit in the car for a minute after I got to Jason's workplace and compose myself.
The upside to this, though, is that I'm pretty sure this kid will enter life loving The Lion King. Either she will love it or I will die trying to get her to.
Oh, and if you're wondering how Jason feels about our Lion King-themed nursery, he thinks it's awesome. Because he knows what's good for him.
3. Being. Sick. Sucks. A few weeks ago, I picked up some kind of weird sinus infection. It's funny, actually, because two of my coworkers became deathly ill with the Stomach Bug From Hell and I was kind of convinced one of them was going to die and rise from the dead as a zombie, they were that sick. As in, Monday one of them went home early, Tuesday he called in sick and the other coworker was starting to feel grody. Wednesday they both were out sick. Then Thursday one came back feeling okay and the other was back but I wouldn't have called him alive except that he still had a pulse.
Through all of this I am frantically spraying everything down with Lysol and anti-bacterial sprays. I cleaned my phone, I cleaned my computer even though neither of them had touched it. I cleaned off my desk because one of them had touched it. I was careful.
And then I came down with a completely unrelated sinus infection, because God has a sense of humor.
I went to bed Thursday night feeling a little gross. I woke up Friday morning with my sinuses pounding so hard I got up, walked out into the living room, wailed to Jason about my face, and then laid on the couch for several hours. I called in sick at some point here, but the only reason I know that is because my call was still on the voicemail the next morning. I went through a mental list of what medicines I could take and came up with nothing. I didn't have a fever or anything where you might rely on Tylenol. What I really needed was a shot of Day and/or Nyquil or some good old meth-ingredient-level Sudafed. So instead I just mumbled obscenities for several hours and wore a hot rag on my face and drank baby-friendly hot toddies nonstop.
What fixed me, I thoroughly believe, is that A. I drank my weight in stuff with Vitamin C in it, and B. I went out to a local Vietnamese place to meet Jason for lunch and had pho. Pho has magical properties, and there is no kind of sick that pho cannot set you on the path to recovery for.
Also I listened to my Lion King soundtrack all afternoon and also watched the movie at some point. So... between those three things, I was feeling good enough to work Saturday and was pretty much better by the next week.
4. My baby is not my dancin' monkey. She moves around all the time!
... except when I want her to.
This baby will happily do the tango when I'm sitting at work nowhere near anyone I want to know anything about it. She will kick me while I'm lying on the couch, or cooking dinner, or doing whatever it is I'm doing at any given moment.
But God forbid I try to get her to kick when Jason can see if he can feel her.
Then she is very very quiet and very very still and I am convinced she is laughing in there.
Just you wait, child. Another few months and I can make you look as ridiculous as I want.
5. Dehydration hits with the speed of an out-of-control semi. When they tell you to drink a certain amount of ounces of water, they are not kidding. Not even a little bit. And they're not just telling you that because it's good for the baby; they are telling you that because that baby is going to get the water it needs from somewhere, and if you aren't drinking enough it will take that water from your very bones.
I went on a thoroughly fruitless maternity clothing shopping trip with a friend a couple of weeks ago (that would be the trip where we discovered that the Maternity Mafia hates women - unless of course you have $70 to spend on two T-shirts which I do not) and part of that trip was discovering my new threshold for dehydration.
I don't have one.
I hadn't had any water to drink for a while before I met up with her. No big deal, right? I shrugged it off. Whatever. I'd had some mostly-decaf coffee that morning with milk in it, I'm fiiiiiiine. For most of the shopping trip I was fine, although feeling a bit sluggish.
Then I could no longer walk.
I just sort of stumbled to a stop and said, "We need to get something to drink now." And I continued to stand very still right in that spot. The amount of energy it would have taken to take one single step forward was simply too much to bear.
My friend, who had a baby herself about a year ago, just laughed at me and we went right into a tea place we really like.
Now I carry a water bottle everywhere I go.
I also tend to leave water bottles everywhere I go, because just because I remember to bring them with me doesn't mean I ever remember to bring them back.
Case in point? I met a friend for breakfast and tea at Tealoha this morning and she has my water bottle now, because I left it in her stroller. Of course I have like seven empty bottles I keep around now for this problem, but if I ever manage to forget my water bottles more than seven times there will be hell to pay.