How far along?: 28 weeks and 2 days
Total weight gain/loss: 11 pounds gained, bitches. (This is an unfair question. I gained 60 damn pounds with Cooper. I simply don't need to gain a bunch of weight because so much of Cooper IS STILL THERE. Plus, I lived in complete luxury when I was pregnant with Coop... I'd sleep when I wanted, ate whatever and whenever I wanted. Now I'm chasing 5 kids (Lola should count for 3 though, honestly) in 100 degree weather. Damn, I am worn out.
Sleep: Well, I am blogging at 4:30am... so... you make your own conclusions. I'm telling myself I'll get a nap during "Quiet Hour" somewhere around 2pm. That should sufficiently eff up my sleep schedule. I'll catch my boyfriend, Jimmy Kimmel, tonight and then keep the cycle going.
Best moment this week: My mind is clouded with the fact that my thermostat, couch and washing machine "situation" (it is a situation. A rigged eff-ed up situation we inherited with the house... I won't go further) all shit the bed on the same day. So... my most interesting baby moment had to happen yesterday when the nurse at the midwives' office decided to cram in nearly every detail of her life in 10 minutes. She began the appointment thinking it would be hilarious to yell, "Come on down!" in the waiting room. She then babbled on about how clumsy she was as a child and all her various childhood injuries. She finished her long winded story by adding, "yeah, I can't walk and chew gum at the same time!" snicker. snicker. I did not give much thought to her saying this until I was standing alone in the next room, ass bared to the world, waiting on her to get someone to help her with the rhogam needle she had just fucked up. I hate shots like anyone else, but when the nurse declares something like this and then abandons you, its a little unsettling. I just don't know how people like this always find me...
Movement: my babies don't kick in a way that makes me say, "hardy-har-har! This one is a soccer player!" Nope, they SQUIRM. Its relatively reminiscent of the Alien movies. I say this with love. Every so often I hear one of my ribs click because of it.
Symptoms: I don't get this question. Of pregnancy? Well, I do look as though I am smuggling a bowling ball... I'm not nauseous, but I am just ridiculously tired. Mentally and physically. Other than that, I'm chugging along.
Focused on: a damn name. No, no, make that TWO names. What an ingenious idea to not find out the gender! Its been hard enough to decide on names otherwise. Now we need two... one for either! After having Coop, and nearly right before going home from the hospital, the nurse came in to remind us we needed to fill out the birth certificate info before we left. We procrastinated til the bitter end. It's only gotten harder since. I have parameters: must be a decent CEO name, must not have a weird and trendy spelling, yet must be unique, cannot be within the top 50 baby names of the year, must not remind me of someone that sucks. It's hard being me.
Food cravings: yes, please.
Food aversions: nope! Feed me, Seymour.
Nesting: I do not believe with a family my size, I am allowed to 'nest'. There's always shit that needs to get done. I HATE the term 'nesting'. Anytime a pregnant gal gets up to straighten something, some asshat needs to smile and say, "awwwwww, she must be nesting!" Mayhaps we like to keep a clean and organized home too?! ...stepping off the soapbox.
Gender: I've gone over this one. EVERYONE asks me what I think 'it' is though. I usually say 'human' so as to move the conversation along. I will say our family has a history of a bunch of boys. Lola came out of no where. ...But I am carrying a lot like I did with Lola. I truly don't mull it over very often. We will just see.
Labor signs: The more kids you have... the sooner, more often and more ridiculous the little fake-y contractions. Joy of joys!
Belly button in or out: always in. Due to a gall bladder removal, I do not believe I am capable of 'out'... did this question enlighten you? That's what I'm here for.
What I miss: running up and down the stairs without having to stop in the middle. Getting up and down off the floor without looking like an over-turned turtle. Seeing my toes.
What I am looking forward to: seeing the Little One for the first time. I thought I knew so well that Lola was the last... this little person is such a mystery to me!
Well, as promised. An artistic picture of 'the bump':
I'm sorry. I didn't say MY bump... did I? That's not a pretty picture at this point... for I do not have Photo Shop to make it so...