Baby's First Quilt

She Travels should appreciate this little gem of a post - since she's all arts-n-craftsy these days. :)

My grandmother makes quilts for the family for all sorts of major events. So when she heard I was pregnant, she got her threads and needles poised for action. OK, in truth, she had already made it. What can I say? She's psychic? (but that's another story....)

Anyways, here's some snapshots of the babe's first Gramma quilt.... correction... Great Gramma quilt. (Sorry if these images are scattered, Blogger is not being nice to me, and I have to go to work. I'll straighten them out and add some more later today.)

Vampires

I am quite impressed.

I survived a vampire bite today.

So I went to the OB-GYN today, and got poked and prodded at, then charged nearly $300. (that they say goes towards the Dr's final bill of $2800 - not including hospital bills and labwork and Rx's - YAY! Poked, prodded, then raped for money.) They also said I had some blood in my urine, which could just be a minor bladder infection, but, they sent it out for tests (more money), and they gave me an Rx for some antibiotics that are 'safe-for-baby'... (even more money).

Then, they sent their cute female vampire in. I didn't faint, no lightheadedness. Not so scary as it usually is. She was suprisingly gentle, and she only took a little bit. Usually, I get severely lightheaded. This time, I managed to walk out of there like a pro. Their vampire was also fun and sarcastic. Just the way I like them. She actually made the experience somewhat pleasant -- if such a thing were possible. She wasn't as sarcastic as Deva - more like me, that fun-luvin, just-kidding, wink-wink, kinda sarcasm.

Anyways, now I'm off to clean out the refrigerator.

One Drama Ends

Well, I got the results from Medicaid.

DENIED

Evidently they think I make too much. Ha!
Although, the people my husband visited last weekend seem to think we're richies. Probably because we don't live in a slummy half-rusted trailer where the women-folk are expected to stay home and mind the youngins and be treated like children themselves by other family members, with no life or mind of their own.

hmm. Oh well.

So the hunt is on again for another form of payment management for this baby, because paying it all upfront and out-of-pocket is going to bite....hard.

Hey Look! A Uterus!

Sorry about the title of this one... I just couldn't help it. Funny story.... really! And you know it wouldn't be a blog entry, without a story to go with it....


See, a friend of my husband's from way back, who is still in the Marine Corp, called us from Iraq the other day to congratulate us on the pregnancy. My husband had sent out a mass email to all our friends and family, and included, was my ultrasound picture. So while my husband was talking to his 'Iraqi friend' (no, he's quite Caucasian, not Iraqi at all) about the email - my husband blurts out: "Yeah, I think everyone's seen my wife's uterus now."

..... I just stared at him and blinked .... then blinked some more .....

What can I say? My husband can make me speechless. (Whether for good or bad, I'm still trying to figure out.)

So anyways... here's a picture of 'my uterus', and the first look at our little bundle of future terrors. Enjoy. =)

~Behold! The alien!~

Zoo Inhabitants

Here's some pictures of the puppies and our two adopted kitties.

To the left is Emian and Sorina. Emian on the left, Sorina on the right. It's almost hard to believe they're sisters sometimes. Sorina looks more and more boxer as she gets older, while Emian looks more and more.... something else.... probably pointer?

Oh, and by the way, this was the bed before they destroyed it. It's foam with a washable lining. It's the foam they have made into bite-sized tidbits.



Here's another shot of them, in one of their rare, quiet modes.

Oh! How I do love these times. They're so cute and innocent-looking, but really, they're evil. Evil I say! Actually, come to think about it, with the exception of Mikey (shown below) and the snakes, they're all evil to some degree. I guess that's what they get for living in a house with the 'demon.' heh. (inside joke for deva)

Here is the puke-meister, Mike. Lately, it's been food-based. The vet said there's a problem with his pancreas. Usually, though, it's just hairballs. He is the reigning hairball champion in the Zoo. He's also got the most, and densest fur of them all. But, he's also the most loveable, most content, and most concerned cat here. He's also the great Protector of Books in the house. Lay a book on the floor (even a notepad) and he will lay on it and keep it safe until you need it back.

As you can see from the picture, Mikey's not too comfortable here. He actually climbed it on his own, which I've never seen him do before. Don't worry, it didn't last long. It's Smokie's perch, and she's very defensive of it. She recovered her position in short order.

He got a lot of attention when he first moved in. Mostly, because of his delicate state. He's old, with pre-existing heart conditions, and a little skiddish. So we pampered him. This came to the great dismay of Meph, who was previously the king cat. The two are now on tollerable levels at times, but Meph still has an undying hatred for Mike, and Mike, well, he's been picked on by Meph enough, that he just doesn't tollerate it anymore.

Mikey is, however, like the big uncle everyone loves when it comes to Smokie (shown to the left). She is the prissbutt of the Zoo. She gets her way with all the cats.

Luckily, she's outgrown her favorite pasttime of chewing power cords. We won't go into just how much money she chewed through, but lets say that some of the casualties included a curling iron, a stereo receiver, a mouse cord, some cat-5 cable, some Christmas lights (though, in her defense, that may have been one of the other cats), and several other cords here and there.

Her favorite thing to do is chase Meph up and down the stairs. It sounds like a herd of elephants when they start their aerobics. Sometimes, they even run their marathons in the middle of the night!

See the fluffy tail? She uses that like Marilyn Monroe would use a feather boa. She wraps it around the necks of both Meph and Mikey as she brushes against them. Of course, as many times, she'll be found wrestling with them like a common street-brawler. Delicateness is a fickle thing with her.

Chaos Strikes

So it seems that yesterday's events were a mere hint as to what was to come later that night. I went to work, and tried not to sleep in front of my computer. Suprisingly, for only having 4-5 hours of sleep, I got a bit done. Then I packed it up and headed for home on a nearly empty tank of gas. I ended up paying more than I wanted to, but oh well. It got me home. I would have filled up earlier but my getting lost did not help me for time.

I pulled into my driveway, new clothes bundled in hand along with the mail, my bag that I take to work, and my keys ready for the door. Our garbage can was tipped over (it's the big kind with wheels, a handle, and a flip-back lid issued by the community, not the little round ones you get at Lowes), and one of our Malibu lights was knocked over. I figure it's from the storm we had yesterday afternoon. I turn off the alarm and open the door, only to get assaulted by Emian and Sorina who were oh-so-happy to see me. Their happiness lasted only seconds.

I plowed my way through the door, pushing them aside with my feet so they didn't get out, dropped my clothes just inside the door, reached down, and grabbed them both by the collars. We have a playpin for them to stay in because they haven't learned yet how to hold their bodily functions, and linoleum is much easier to clean than carpet. As if to prove that point, I saw two wet and runny mud pies in the middle of our living room carpet, basting and soaking.

A deck of cards now lay strewn about the floor, intermingled with a plethora of packing popcorn from a small box they had found and had taken to shaking about. Their bed (that we had taken away because they kept eating it instead of sleeping in it) was now further eaten, with bits of foam laying about. A foot scrubber lay in the floor, with it's trendy little hanging cord, now untied and laying a foot away from the scrubber. I found a small sliver of what looked to be a piece of a pencil (the common yellow wooden sort) on the floor, but I have yet to find the rest of it. I'm sure it will show up in the back yard soon - eraser and all. My sandals were laying upside-down in the middle of the floor (luckily no damage was done), one of their squeaky toys was now shoved under the couch, my husband's socks were wet from slobber and in front of the fireplace, their leashes were strewn about the kitchen, and the broom was also laying down in the middle of the kitchen. And to top everything off, the place reeked of a bio waste pond. A great thing for someone who cannot handle that smell due to a pregnancy. (Literally, the smell makes me cough to the point of gagging violently. I don't actually lose my stomach, but sometimes it feels the same.)

And all I wanted to do was come home from work, get some food, take my vitamins, and get some much overdue and needed sleep. I kept thinking of Dante in Clerks exhasperating, "I'm not even supposed to Be here today!"

So I scolded the puppies - probably a little harsher than was appropriate, and returned them to their 'cage.' The playpin had been covered by a heavy piece of wood and part of the playpin itself (it's a plastic sectional playpin) because Sorina had escaped previously in the week and had made plops all over the carpet. Now, the section of playpin being used as the roof of their 'cage' was laying inside and the wood was shoved over to one side so they could get out. Clever dogs.

They were so upset from my scolding, that they layed in their playpin without covering for quite some time. I didn't even hear hardly a wimper. They knew they had done serious wrong.

So I begin the cleanup process, starting with the mud pies, while I call my husband and fill him in. When I hang up with him, my parents called me, which lasted about an hour and a half. There is still a stain in the carpet. I can't lift it for love or money. I'll try some more today.

So I get off the phone with my parents, get another piece of wood for the top of their cage, since the plastic doesn't work. And I sit down to a microwaved baked potato. I needed to eat something, and it was already 10pm. As I'm eating, I hear one of the cats puking on the stairs. It's Mikey... again. He doesn't take pills well, and the vet had given us some anti-nausia pills for him. He refused it in the morning, so now he was ....rather.. I was paying for it. I was past getting excited now. I just went back to eating, took my vitamins, got something to drink, then went upstairs to make sure the pups hadn't made it up there. They had.

There were two poop piles in the hallway and another in the bedroom. Small favors - they were actually solid, and didn't stain. There was more cat puke though. There was a piddle in the master bathroom - again, small favors that they piddled on linoleum and not the carpet. Clothes had been tossed about, but nothing damaged that I could see. So I go back and clean up everything, calling my husband again for another update. I don't regret him leaving for the weekend. He needed the vacation - I just wish all this chaos would have happened on another weekend.

I leave the non-bio messes for the morning, and try to go to bed - finally. But now the puppies want to bark and howl and cry and squeal. That lasted for about a half hour, then they finally got tired and went to sleep, only to start it again at 3am. At 5-ish, all of my husband's alarms start going off that he forgot to turn off in his absence. At 7 the puppies howl some more, so I let them out to go potty - to discover one of them had piddled in their cage. I wasn't suprised by this, and didn't scold them. Besides, I was too tired to care. I just cleaned it up and put them back. Then I went back to bed. But they kept howling, so I didn't really sleep - I just layed there til about 9. I get up, ready to grudgingly clean the rest of the messes made by the puppies, then maybe get some breakfast, only to find another poo pile in their cage, more yack on the stairs, and the stinch as strong as last night's. I lit some candles. It's helping.

I threw on some of my new hand-me-downs (the denim skirt is really cute and comfortable, too!), and walked the dogs for their morning pit-stop, cleaned up the last of the bio messes (though the 2 stains still won't come out yet), came back in, and began the daunting task of damage control. I took a break long enough to write this and calm down some.

I'm going out to eat some breakfast now.

Oh, and Deva - you may be the only one posting. I didn't send this to too many yet. :) I kinda wanted to get a feel for this blog thing first, before I terrorized too many people at once. heh. Call it the test group before Total Global Insanitization.

I still have my old MSN Groups habit of Ctrl+A, Ctrl+C before hitting the "Publish" button. How sad is that?

The Charity of Strangers

Or is that the Charity of Strange People? lol. Either way, this morning went fairly well for only working on about 4-5 hours of sleep.

My husband is on a first-name basis with everyone at our bank. It's his magnetic, social personality and very distinguisable looks that get everyone's attention. heh.

In any case, I took him to the airport at way-to-friggin-early this morning so he could have a vacation from my maternal moodiness and also help out a friend of ours who's in a little bit of a rough spot. That left me to go deal with depositing checks at the bank and such on my way to work. (Working Saturdays aren't bad when you can have a random day off in the middle of the week. Works well for Dr.'s appt.s and such.) So in the list of instructions for things to do this morning, my husband mentioned that one of the girls at the bank had some maternity clothes she wanted to give me. Just look for the nice black lady, about my frame (not pregnant), and she'd hook me up!

Sure enough, I walk in there, and she was easy to spot. As I get up to the counter, my cell phone rings. It's my husband telling me he landed safely. As I was talking to her, the woman behind the counter looked at me, and seemed to know who I was instantly. Not bad, considering I think I've seen her in passing maybe twice. She was already on her way out the door before I could get off the phone long enough to say 'Hi' to her.

Out to her mini-van we went, completely decked out with "Baby On Board" signs. She pulled out a couple bags of clothes she had just freshly dug out of her closet and washed up and folded for me. I almost started crying. Not that it's hard these days. Hell, I'll cry if you look at me funny.

This pregnancy-thing has really turned me into such the wimpy girly-girl. *grrrrr*

I asked her if she wanted me to return them when I was done with them (since a co-worker of mine told me how upset she was that the clothes she lent to someone else never returned them to her!). When she got done giggling at me, she said "no, I can't have any more babies, no need to have them back. You just keep them."

Ok. She got a big hug.

Then I got lost on my way to work, trying to take a different route. It's just one of those days.

Oh how they do tease

So I called the people that sent me the enrollment forms. Evidently, they're pre-emptive forms. If I get accepted by Medicaid, then I am already enrolled and it's active almost immediately. If I'm denied Medicaid, then I don't receive any of their benefits.

So I called the Medicaid office once again (now that I have a voice I can get a hold of). She sent the paperwork today, but she can't remember if she approved me or denied me. She thinks she denied me because I make 'too much' - but she couldn't look up my information.

So my stress level went from very high, to none, to very high again.

Great health care = Stress the mother-to-be. Heck, it works for me. (enter sarcasme here)

Medicaid - The Saga Continues

Tuesday, in my frustration, I called their special 'hotline' to see if any of my information that had been sitting in the office for two weeks, had made it to a more global level. Maybe someone who wasn't a backwoods brainless receptionist might be able to offer some kind of added info.

It was partially successful. I got more info, though the info I got wasn't very helpful. In fact, it was more frustrating than anything. Evidently, the place I went to, still uses the 'old' system, so all my information was at the branch only. On the upside, the gentleman I spoke to at the hotline, was very pleasant and seemed like he actually wanted to help. He said if they continued to be rude to me (funny, in all my complaining, I never said they were actually rude, just uninformative), to tell them that I called the hotline and informed them about their practices. Evidently, getting complaints at the hotline level about a particular branch is a big no-no. So that bit did make me feel a little better.

The reason I mention this, is because yesterday, at about 4pm, my husband was called by the local branch. Evidently, they Finally got to my paperwork! (I wonder if my phone call actually did something to motivate them?) They said they'd send out paperwork and it should arrive in about 3 days.

Stranger still, when I got home yesterday and checked the mail, there was a package of Medicaid plan choices waiting for me. Evidently, I'm now covered and just need to pick which plan I want to use?

Hooray for Govt. employees. The left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing.

Profiles of Four and No-Legged Kind

Let me introduce you to the non-human members of my Domestic Zoo.

Name: Mike
Species: Cat
Gender: Male
Type: Brown, White, Fat, Short but very thick and dense fur
Personality: Shy, Quiet, Affectionate, Likes to cuddle in bed
Likes: Yogurt, Chicken (will attack your hand for either), mouse-watching
Dislikes: Medicine, Meph, Sudden loud noises
Arrival: Adopted from friend moving out of the country
Age: Old enough to get his way

Name: Meph (Short for Mephistopheles)
Species: Cat
Gender: Male
Type: Black
Personality: Wants to be center of attention
Likes: Talking to birds, mouse-watching, tuna, milk, Lounging in front of the fireplace and our office chairs, foot warmer in bed
Dislikes: Mike, Belly rubs (though it's not as bad as it used to be), Water other than for drinking
Arrival: Found at our first apt. Seemed to be house-born, then kicked to the streets with brothers and sisters
Age: About 2 years old

Name: Smokie
Species: Cat
Gender: Female
Type: Gray, Long-haired tail, tufted ears, slender
Personality: Princess with 'tude.
Likes: Chasing Meph, Wrestling with Mike, Flirting, Mouse-watching
Dislikes: Being picked up, Most human food
Arrival: Adopted from friend moving out of the country
Age: About 2 years old

Name: Set
Species: California Kingsnake
Gender: Uncertain (assumed female)
Type: Black and White bands, constrictor
Personality: Docile, affectionate
Likes: Mice, Baths, Being an accessory
Dislikes: Smokie
Arrival: Husband's
Age: More than a few years old

Name: Lil'Shit (never settled on a name)
Species: California Kingsnake
Gender: Uncertain (assumed male)
Type: Black and White bands, constrictor
Personality: Becomming more docile (still young yet)
Likes: Mice (still on Fuzzies)
Dislikes: Almost everything
Arrival: Birthday gift from husband
Age: About 3 years old

Name: Emian (pronounced eh-mee-an)
Species: Dog
Gender: Female (Sister to Sorina)
Type: Mostly black and white boxer mix (possibly Pointer)
Personality: Friendly, Happy, Shy, Eager to please - More Pointer
Likes: Food, treats, wrestling with Sorina, Chasing Sorina, Escaping from Sorina
Dislikes: Being a 'bad puppy'
Arrival: "Free to good home"
Age: About 3 months old

Name: Sorina
Species: Dog
Gender: Female (Sister to Emian)
Type: Mostly brown and white boxer mix (possibly Pointer)
Personality: Friendly, Happy, Shy, Eager to please, Hyper, Craves attention - More Boxer
Likes: Food, treats, wrestling with Emian, Chasing Emian, Escaping from Emian, Jumping,
Dislikes: Being ignored or contained
Arrival: "Free to good home"
Age: About 3 months old

Up to speed on the "Lil'un"

As I mentioned in my first post, I am expecting a new little bundle of joy (and a few bundles of poopy diapers) in early December. I'll probably be writing much on this topic, as The Domestic Zoo will also serve as something of an online diary about my pregnant life.

Up until now, quite a bit has happened, and as much has not happened. On the 28th of June, I learned I was pregnant at the Pregnancy Help Center. Let me tell you, the place is awesome. Free testing, free ultrasound, free classes, and if you're active enough there, you earn points that can be cashed in for slightly used hand-me-down clothes, toys, etc. Not bad if you're on a tight budget. Not to mention, the people there are extrememly nice all the time and full of tons of information.

While I was there, I also had an ultrasound done to help determine how far along I was. Let me tell you - that was quite a shocker. 15 weeks pregnant, and never had a clue. Sure, my husband and I joked about it in passing, but never really paid it much merit.

You may be wondering how I could be nearly 4 months pregnant and not know it? Easy. For starters, I've never had a regular cycle. I could go months without one, and think nothing of it, except that I had escaped the wrath another month that so many other women must endure. Believe me, it was a blessing.

Second of all, I had been working from home for a short time due to financial and vehicle situations. Since I design web sites, working from home was an easy option, but also a very non-active activity. Sitting behind a computer while getting up only for food, drink, pit-stop, and bed - not very healthy. So I started to put on a little weight. Only, that's the excuse my husband and I used. It was also a good excuse for why I was so unnaturally tired. No exercise = no blood/oxygen flow = no energy. Made perfect sense.

Third, I never had morning sickness. Another blessing, though all my blessings came at a cost. They masked the truth quite cleverly.

Fourth, the famed "irrational moodiness" also had a very logical explaination. We both had a huge stress over our heads. Wondering where we were going to live. The house we were in was not only a money pit, but the people we were 'buying' it from, never filed the deed. In layman's terms, we paid rent for a year, when we thought we were paying mortgage. So much for 'private financing' and 'for sale by owner.' So when we tried to legally purchase it, the previous owner got psychotic, and kept threatening to take back her house. We actually tried to have a house built, but that fell through. So we were faced with 'renting' again, or keep trying for the money pit. Our options were less than grim. Luckily, we had some knights in shining armor come and rescue us from our plight. My parents ended up buying a brand new home for us, and we're paying the mortgage. When our credit is fully restored, or at least recovered to an acceptable level, we'll buy it from them and build our credit further. It was a quick fix, but the timing couldn't have been better. We're now in a massive 4-bedroom, 2-story, 2-car-garage house with huge yards. Couldn't be more perfect for a family. But all that stress, did have us both at our wit's ends more than a couple times.

Back the the Pregnancy Help Center: Besides being super friendly (and offering free services!), they also gave me quite a bit of info on where to get extra help. They even helped fill out paperwork to apply for the state's Pregnancy Medicaid, as well as numbers of physicians, etc.

Medicaid. There's a wonderful topic. Since neither my husband nor I have insurance, (my company is too small to afford it for their employees, and he's a contractor, so he has to get his on his own - we just hadn't got to that part yet due to bills and such) I'm pretty much on my own here for health care. Unless I can get Medicaid, which will pay for pretty much everything, as far as I know.

So I filled out their paperwork. No problem. I faxed it over a week later. (Would have done so earlier, but with puppies pooping, cats puking, hungry husbands, plus getting over the shock of being pregnant, it just took a little longer than I expected.) Two days after I faxed it, my husband missed getting to the phone in time, but caller ID had said it was the Medicaid office. Great! They received it, and things are moving. We thought.

I tried to call them back, but their phone just rings, and rings... and rings, or if you're lucky, it kicks back to the automated menu where you get to try all over again. Try different selections, and none of them go where they're supposed to. Yaay Goverment Employees! They rock.

So a week after faxing their forms over, I visit them in person. Hah. That was an adventure! The address, when put in any map program, sends you in the wrong direction. So after 20 min. of backtracking and exploring, I finally find the place on the Other side of the freeway, about 1-2 miles away from where the map says they're supposed to be. Hooray. I found it. Now I wait. I wait for some old lady behind a glass wall to help 2 people in front of me. That was another 20 min. (I failed to mention that in the middle of driving around, the lil'un decided it needed more room, so chose to lay on my bladder.) Standing there, afraid to sit down and possibly lose my place in line, with the incredible urge to visit the lady's room, I finally make my way to the old lady.

She was about as helpful as a watch that can't keep time.

She couldn't tell me anything. She was suprised I had recieved a phone call that soon. She couldn't find me in their database. She couldn't let me talk to anyone that might actually know anything. She did remember my application though, and revelled that they had finally made copies of it (they needed to make two copies, one for Medicaid and one for Food Stamps - hey... I applied for everything... I'll let them tell me what I can't qualify for.) So it took them a whole week to make copies. Well this strikes confidence in me. So when I continue to needle her for more information, her reply was: You'll have to wait for someone to mail you something. You can call and check on your status, and I'll even give you an extention number, but we never answer our phones except to take maybe one or two calls a day. (Just to give you an idea, they must have had six phones in the front area alone, ringing off the hook, never letting up once!)

So I left there angry, frustrated, and helpless.

I called their corporate number, and they couldn't find me in their system, and appologized - but appologies can't help me.

So every day, I anxiously await Something in the mail. Four days later, I get a large manilla envelope. Hooray! Hope at last! I opened it up, and got a rejection notice for two of the things I applied for. Luckily, Medicaid was not one of them. However, what didn't come, was the much-anticipated "appointment" with a case worker. So today (a week after my last visit to their helpless office), I visited them again. I got pretty much the same routine, though when I showed them the paperwork they sent me, the woman (different than last time) curtly told me they didn't send that information. Then she said it looked like an absentee form. Then she said again that it wasn't their paperwork. When she tried to use my SSN to look up my status, she had to type it 4 times to get it right. When I asked to talk to someone else, she flatly said that wasn't possible - though she did inform me that there were about 500 cases amongst 2 case workers. When I made the comment to hire more, she laughed at me, and told me the government wouldn't do that any time soon. When I expressed my frustration with their broken system, she 'politely' told me that "It used to be worse. Instead of three weeks to process an application, it used to take five or six" Wow. That made me feel so good.

So I called my husband, filled him in. He was slightly (enter sarcasm here) unamused. He said, "Hey... call Planned Parenthood! They're always advertising health care for pregnant women and stuff." Well, that sounded as good an idea as any, so I did just that. My answer from them: They don't offer prenatal care at all, and I should apply for Medicaid. Wow. Great help there.

So I emailed them a nasty letter about false advertising. That actually did make me feel better. Well, that... and a good hormonal cry of frustration. :)

But, not all of this has been a bad experience. Shopping for maternity clothes has proven to be a most enjoyable experience - at least, after I found a maternity store. Until then, it was almost as stressful as dealing with Medicaid. We went 'malling' and walked the entire mall, and just when I was about to give up forever, and just wear my husband's clothes - the Motherhood store stood out like golden arches of salvation! I grinned and went inside. Not knowing what I was looking for, I wandered aimlessly to the first rack I found. I was very curious how their sizing system worked. I was expecting some complicated method of size plus how many months preganant, etc. I about cried for hormonal joy when I saw the fine print on the price tags: Purchase clothing in your original pre-pregnancy size. I thought to myself, "Self! I can do that!! That's EASY!" From that moment on, the whole store was fair game, and the game was certainly on! I managed to keep the spending just barely under my husband's guidlines. But the clothes not only fit, but they were hella-comfortable, and looked really good. They weren't the stereotypical jumpers, rompers, and elastic fake jeans, or shirts with ducks and bunnies on them - nor were they the super-stretchy skin-tight t-shirts with the big arrow pointing down that read: Baby. This was stuff I could wear to work and outside, and not feel like a clown.

Yeah, I went back the following week. Had to get new bras too. Evidently, I jumped a size up in every direction. My husband is very happy at this, by the way.

Luckily, I haven't been craving the strange stuff, like pickles and ice cream - but I have been craving a few things I don't normally enjoy but maybe once every 7 years or so. Lately, I've been loving the baked potato. I normally hate them because they're too dry and bland. But the last few weeks, they've been my food of choice.

Now, if you've endured my ramblings this far, you've probably been asking a few questions. "Boy or girl?" "Do you have a preference?" "Have you thought of names?"

Boy or Girl? Don't know yet. They say you find that out at your 20th week (that's 5 months for those that wish not to do the math.)

Do I have a preference? Yup. It's gotta have at least 10-11 digits. 10 if a girl, 11 if a boy. That's my preference. Although, there is a tendancy on my dad's side for the first child to be a girl. It's been that way in about every known family member on his side so far - including me, since I was his first (and only).

Have we thought of names? In passing. I'm waiting to find out if it's a boy or girl before I start getting too attatched to any name in particular. Though, boys' names would be relatively short work for us, girls might take a bit more haggling. Either way, it won't be too hard.

Well, that's a good start on catching you up to speed on the last few exciting weeks of my pregnancy. I'll keep you posted as things progress.

Until next blog...

First Day at the Zoo

I start with the common disclaimer: This is my first blog. Now that that's out of the way, welcome to the zoo that I call my life.

You may be asking, "Why do you compare your life to a zoo?" To answer that, I start by introducing you to my domestic surroundings. I have two lethargic California Kingsnakes, three cats of various personalities, two puppies (boxer mix) who are angels when they can refrain from staining the carpets, a husband who is a loving handful, and a little bundle of joy due to arrive in December. Think I've got enough yet? (In case you're counting on your fingers, that's about 10 mouths to feed.)

In any case, all my friends have started blogs, and have finally twisted my arm to start my own as well. So to all my blogging friends - I've finally joined your insanity. Have fun in mine now.

Until next blog...