Playing up those strengths (8 weeks To Go!)

The other day in the car Hubby could not stop scratching his nose.

No big deal right?

Wrong.

Beside it being super annoying…it’s one of those times when any normal person would just try to blow their nose to subdue the itchy situation.

Turns out, my Hubby is just a slight bit shy of normal (thank goodness) and won’t blow his nose.  He HATES to blow his nose.  I only just recently discovered that it’s because he doesn’t really know how to.

How nuts is that?  Not knowing how to properly blow one’s own nose… Ludicrous.

All of this to say that as we are getting closer to Baby Theä’s arrival (only 8 more weeks!) I’m beginning to realize that Hubby and I both have vastly different strengths and weaknesses.  We’ll both have our own quirks and talents to pass along to Theä as she grows up

Looks like I’ll get the royal gem of a task of eventually teaching her how to blow her nose, because God knows Hubby won’t be imparting that particular skill set.

As time goes on and insomnia lingers, I’m sure I’ll come up with a few more seemingly (spectacularly) unimportant talents that Hubby and I will get to pass on without the help of one another.

One thing’s for sure. Our little lady will never have to bother others around her with all sorts of snorting, scratching, and nose wrinkling to take care of an itch or a snotty situation.  It’s a miracle what something as small as a Kleenex can do…

Baby or Turkey??

On Thanksgiving  there was really only one question?

Is that a baby or a turkey in there? 🙂

Hubby is pretty sure it is in fact a baby, not a turkey.

Hubby is pretty sure it is in fact a baby, not a turkey.

I hope everyone had an awesome Thanksgiving.  I was hoping to have a nice big dinner full of my holiday favorites – but Baby Theä was taking up far too much room in my tummy for me to even eat a 1/3 of what was on my plate!!

Is it okay if I conclude that with a lame hashtag?

#preggoproblemsfirstworldstyle

I’ll be back to posting as usual this week!

Toodles.

Frumpy and Grumpy

These two words pretty much sum up today’s attitude.

Here are the Facts:

I’m wearing UGGs, leggings, and quite possible the ugliest/most shapeless thick grey maternity sweater.  Imagine that – a shapeless maternity sweater.  How dare they?  

I’m essentially the walking definition of FRUMP! haha

This is the sweater in violation of every fashion rule my Non-Preggo self would typically adhere to:

Don't be fooled as I was! This is really just an expensive potato sack, sans the burlap.

Don’t be fooled as I was! This is really just an expensive potato sack, sans the burlap.

As for the GRUMPY….

Did you read any of the words above?  I’m walking around in a grey knit POTATO SACK!

This should be just cause and reason enough for deflating one’s normally bright and cheery disposition.

Huge props to my awesome Hubby, who despite my apparent penchant for early 20th century farm attire, insists that I’m a very cute and sexy (both at once? That’s a tall order…) preggo lady.

He must be crazy!

Hot and Bothered

I have been so hot lately.

Molten hot.  The surface of Mars hot, even.

Unfortunately for hubby it’s not in the “come hither” sense. It’s more like a “get all these covers off me and turn the fan on high – I don’t care if it’s only 61 degrees in here!” kind of way.

Last night was a HOT night of epic proportions.

Being hot and not getting any sleep make for a very unhappy pregnant woman.

6:30 a.m. saw me clamoring out of bed, grabbing the blanket from the floor (that I’d previously tossed of the bed at 3 a.m.), and trekking into the living room, pillow in tow, to try sleeping on my sweet glider/recliner/rockingchair (courtesy of my awesome mom-in-law).

I hadn’t had a wink of sleep since 3 a.m. and apparently I wasn’t meant to get any useful sleep in my recliner either.

Lucky me.

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