The Ingredients of Baby Neener

I've stated previously that I haven't really had any cravings during my pregnancy - I haven't craved any weird food combinations and I haven't desired any foods so strongly that I've had to send my husband to the grocery store at 2 a.m. However, I have noticed a pattern of foods that consistently have sounded good to me and, as my appetite is increasingly growing along with the baby, I'm eating more and more of these things. This topic isn't particularly interesting, I know, but one day Baby Neener may ask what he's made of, and thanks to this posting I'll be able to tell him his exact composition.

* An almost daily dose of Italian food; especially pasta or pizza. My favorite tv dinner that I frequently fix myself after work when Stephen isn't home is the Smart Ones Three Cheese Ziti Marinara. (I ate this for dinner this evening, in fact.)

* 1-2 bowls of fruity cereal per day. Pictured below is the snack I just finished eating: a bowl of Frankenberry cereal.

* 1-3 glasses of Meijer 2% organic milk daily. We usually buy whatever organic milk is on sale at the various grocery stores - so as not to pump Baby Neener full of growth hormones because, as you can see from my previous post, growth hormones are the last thing I need for him to be ingesting - but I've recently discovered my palate prefers the Meijer 2% organic in the plastic gallon jug. The other brands and the half gallons in the earth-friendly cardboard containers just don't seem to taste as good. Baby Neener loves a tall glass of this, too, but he likes his with chocolate syrup.

* A couple of handfuls of Craisins a day, sometimes by themselves, but usually enjoyed on salads.

* Salads. Not because of the vegetables, but probably primarily because of all the Craisins I sprinkle on top, and due to drenching them in my favorite salad dressing, Newman's Own Family Recipe Italian.

* Apples and apple juice. I'm very thankful to have an appetite for apples right now; I'm sure they are the reason I haven't been plagued with the common pregnancy woe of constipation. They are my little digestive guardian angels.

* Popcorn. I like to eat this with a tall glass of apple juice.

* Ginger ale. Mmm......fizzy and refreshing.

* Ice water. Weird, but it's highly satisfying.

* Powdered donuts with a glass of milk. I hate the way my stomach looks like an ice-capped mountain after I'm finished eating them, so I only occasionally have them for a snack in the evenings when I want to shake things up a bit from the usual cookies and milk snack.

* Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies with a glass of milk. Which reminds me, I only have three cookies left; I predict a trip to Wal-Mart once Stephen gets home.

* Chocolate. Duh. What eight-month pregnant woman doesn't have this as a staple in her diet??

* Cheeseburgers!

How obvious is it that I'm a little obsessed with food right now? I just ate that bowl of cereal, but I think the Tapeworm is already hungry again.

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Week 34: Feeling Ready to Burst

I've only got six weeks to go until my estimated due date. On the one hand, that seems like no time at all, like it's the day after tomorrow. After 34 weeks, 6 weeks is nothing. On the other hand...have you seen me lately? I look like I have an inflatable stomach, and I feel like it's so full it's about to pop. I can't imagine continuing to get larger for six more weeks. Am I really capable?

Many seem to think I'm not. The majority of people I've spoken to seem to have a very strong opinion that I will have this baby early, either due to the fact that I'm, supposedly, too small to carry much more baby weight or because, again supposedly, my tummy is so large that the doctor just has to be incorrect about my due date, that I'm farther along than they think I am. So, at our doctor's appointment a week ago, I asked my doctor her opinion in the matter, thinking she'd probably be the one with the most educated guess. She was no fun, though, and just shrugged her shoulders and said there's really no way for her to know and, once again, it could just be that I'm going to have a big baby. This reminded me of a conversation I'd had with Angela and Jeff, in which they had remarked that they never felt their questions or concerns were really answered at the doctor's. Either doctors are really just as clueless as we are, or they don't want to tell anyone anything for fear of a patient becoming irate or, worse, suing if the outcome varies even slightly from what the doctor predicted. I totally understand this and don't blame them, but it's extremely frustrating when the lady who works in the mailroom seems to have a stronger opinion about how my pregnancy is going than my own doctor does.

Either way, whether people are correct in their prediction concerning my due date or not, I'm beginning to feel more and more ready for this kid to pop out. And I'm even beginning to think that him arriving early, without being premature, of course, wouldn't be such a bad thing. I've been quite fearful about the actual delivery and wondered on a daily basis how in the world am I possibly going to get through it? I think I'm beginning to figure it out: Labor = Relief. I got up four times to pee last night, and afterwards it took 15-30 minutes each time to fall back to sleep. I woke up at least 10 times with abdomen or back aches and had to flop around endlessly to find the position that offered the least amount of discomfort (and I say "the" position because I have found there is only one position at each given time that is tolerable...and each time this one position is different). I swear I spent 3/4 of the day sleep-working and pray I didn't get drool on anything of high importance. The other day, I gathered up one load of laundry, put it in the washer, took out one load of laundry from the dryer, folded and put the clothes away, and I felt like I'd spent four hours at the gym. Physical exhaustion - from doing a load of laundry. Pathetic. My back, right now, is absolutely killing me - from sitting in a nice, cushy office chair. I struggle putting my shoes and socks on, worry about falling and breaking my hip when attempting to put on underwear and pants because I can't lift my legs more than a foot above the ground, and washing, shaving, and/or applying moisturizer to the lower halves of my calves and feet is next to impossible. And, I've discovered I no longer can lift my bodyweight - I tried to hoist myself up on the kitchen counter the other night, and nothing happened. I couldn't even raise myself a quarter of an inch above the ground. Mom is right - I probably ought not to lift myself onto the counter anyway for a couple of reasons - I hadn't thought about that when I made the attempt - but it was still the strangest feeling to not be able to.

To sum it up: I think I'm almost done being pregnant for now. Almost. I'm not quite ready to give up The Giant Squirmy living in my belly or all of the attention I get from looking like I've swallowed an enormous basketball. People voluntarily pick things up for me when I drop them, and they open doors for me. Best of all, for once I actually have an excuse for my insatiable appetite and am encouraged by others to do all I can to fulfill it. I'm really going to miss all of those Chips Ahoy cookies and cheeseburgers. (Not together - I still haven't had any true cravings, let alone weird ones. Disappointing.)

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Giving Thanks

I'm afraid I've been a bit on the negative side lately - like, for my whole life. Honestly, I'm actually a very happy person and I do realize I have a lot to be happy about. For some reason, though, I have the annoying talent of overlooking the positives and focusing right on the negatives, and stress and pregnancy have further honed this talent recently.

This morning, I opened my inbox to find a very sweet e-mail that Laurie had sent on Thanksgiving simply stating that she was thankful I was her friend. Again, maybe it's those darn hormones, but receiving that little message made me feel so good and made my heart melt. It also made me realize that I tend to forget to stop and count my blessings regularly, so I thought I'd shake things up a bit on here and actually post something positive for once. No negatives. (At least not on this one posting.) I feel I need to make this list for those times in which I'm feeling sorry for myself, for when I feel like everything is falling apart, or for when I'm simply having a bad day.

The top ten things for which I am thankful this year:

(1) My husband. I could write a novel on how wonderful he is as both a person and as a spouse. He is my saner half, the glue that holds me together. He absolutely works his ass off and is always trying to better himself to provide as good a life as possible for us. He is going to be the best father a kid could have and I absolutely cannot wait to witness the bond develop between him and Baby Neener. I am so grateful that one thing I do NOT have to worry about is my child having a deadbeat dad or me having a deadbeat husband. I am thankful to have a person other than my mother in my life who will always be there for me, will always support me, and will always love me. I am also thankful to be married to a man who will actually cook me dinner, iron my clothes, and clean my toilet. It's really no wonder that I love him so much.

(2) My pregnancy. Yes, yes, I've whined and complained and moaned and groaned SO much about it over the past several months, and, let's face it, the act of being pregnant does have a lot of discomforts and scary changes attached to it. But I know the end result of this pregnancy will be the start of a new life that I will love more than my own life. It will be the start of a wonderful new chapter in my life. It will mark the beginning of my very own family. I am so very, beyond words, thankful for this baby and for everything he will bring to my life. And for as much bitching as I do about carrying him, I also know I'll miss him when he's outside of my body. After all the nausea, backaches, and exhaustion I've experienced, feeling him squirm around inside of my tummy makes it all worth it, even when it feels like he gets a foot caught in my ribs. I think I'll probably feel a little loneliness inside of me when the little critter moves out.

(3) Family. They are always there when I need them, and will do anything to help out. My life is in the process of changing radically and I'd hate to think how much more difficult this transitory stage would be without their support and assistance. And once the baby is born, I know my survival of the first year will largely be thanks to the assistance of family. I'm sure my baby will be as sweet as pie, but I'll be going crazy with all the changes - hormonal changes, sleep changes, stress changes, body changes, lifestyle changes, diaper changes - and on top of all that I know my evil perfectionist side will taunt me the entire time, reminding me that I could be doing things better, that I'm an awful mother. I know it will be family who will be there to offer advice, remind me that I'm human and am not Robo Mom, step in and help out when it's obvious I've been pulling my hair out, and most importantly, will love my child almost as much as I will. After all of that, I know they won't proclaim to the whole world what a mess I am. That would mean they would have to admit to being related to such a mess. That's what keeps family secrets within the family.

(4) Friends. They have given countless words of wisdom, listened endlessly to my whining and worrying, offered neverending support, have made me laugh and lifted my spirits. They are my family away from family, and even honorary members of my family (you know who you are, Angie). Without my friends, I seriously believe all of the crazies that live inside my head would escape through my nose and eat me alive.

(5) My kitties. They are soft, snuggly, warm, and greet me at the door in the evenings when I come home feeling like I've had the living Hell beat out of me. They say having pets lowers your blood pressure, reduces loneliness/stress/depression, and improves your mood, therefore making you a potentially healthier person. I am a firm believer in this. However, I do think that if they would use the toilet, feed themselves, and not throw up on our down comforters, they would be much more effective at improving my health. But maybe that's asking too much?

(6) Having a roof over my head. It's expensive. Like, VERY expensive. But, it sure is nice not living on the streets.

(7) Having vehicles in good running condition. Walking or riding my bike to work would just plain suck. Especially at eight months pregnant in November.

(8) Good health. (Knock on wood.) Actually, my health hasn't been the greatest this year, in comparison to most years. I've had the stomach flu twice, two or three colds, and, although it was from pregnancy hormones and not my health per se, months of nausea. However, to my knowledge I did not acquire any major STDs, leprosy, or emphysema. For this I am quite thankful.

(9) Naps. They have brought immeasurable comfort and relief to me in the past eight months. My only complaint is that I could greatly use more of them.

(10) Chocolate. I really don't think I need to say anything more.

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Possible Reasons I'm a Grumplesaurus Lately

* Pregnancy hormones. One second there's a song on the radio that I'm struggling not to cry to, the next second it's over and the lame-ass Cheeseburger in Paradise commercial comes on (it's only played three times per commercial segment) and I'm screaming, "I f**king hate f**king Jimmy F**king Buffet and this f**king song and this f**king commercial!" while frantically punching at the radio buttons to change the station. On the other hand, this is probably a common reaction to hearing this commercial so maybe it's not just me - bad example. I haven't been a crying wreck, and even when I get bitchy I'm not directly bitchy to people. I don't think I've even been too mean to Stephen - in fact, I think I've been much more mellow to him since I've been pregnant, and he's probably dreading the moment when those pregnancy hormones begin to plummet. But, in my mind, I'm slowly becoming more crazy and unstable. I get overwhelming feelings of giddiness for no good reason. A few minutes later, I'll have an incredibly strong urge to cry. Before I know it, I feel pissed at the world and want to punch the next person that walks by me. My head right now - I picture it filled with a million tiny funhouse mirrors, contorting thoughts and feelings into creepy and freaky monsters. Weren't those thoughts and feelings creepy and freaky enough all on their own??

* Stress. Starting next week I will get to see my husband for an hour at lunch and then not again until between 9:30-10:00 in the evening. Saturdays I'll get to see him after 7:00. At least we'll still have Sundays. At least for now. And bill paying is still a struggle, so it's not as if we're getting some big monetary compensation out of this. And, the house is progressively going to shit because I can't keep up with the cleaning due to my inflexible abdomen and sore back. Which leads me to...

* Increasing bodily discomfort. Bending over is becoming a thing of the past. I have to flop and roll myself out of bed with the aid of the headboard to make my 2-4 tinkle trips in the middle of the night; lying in bed and wetting myself is becoming quite the temptation. I have good days and bad days concerning my back, but even on good days exertion for more than five minutes turns the day into a bad day. I think my belly now weighs approximately thirty pounds and sometimes I catch myself while walking trying to carry it in my arms to alleviate the pulling. Not being able to do what I want or need to do is not going over very well. Dammit.

* Lack of sleep. 2-4 tinkle trips in the middle of the night I can handle. The thirty minutes it usually takes to get "comfortable" enough again once back in bed to fall asleep I can't handle. If Baby Neener wakes up, which he does half the time, this may add to the thirty minutes as he kicks the shit out of whichever side I'm trying to lie on. And Stephen wonders why I push him so hard if he starts to snore...

* The approaching holidays. Namely, Christmas. Namely, Christmas shopping. Everything about this freaks me out right now. Lack of money but lots of people for whom to buy...the physical act of walking and being on my feet for hours while shopping with my back as sturdy as it is and my belly weighing forty pounds (yes, I do believe it's grown ten pounds in the past five minutes)...the mental anguish of not only trying to pick out the "perfect" gift for each person but also having to maneuver through the herds of other crazy Christmas shoppers...THANK GOD my purses aren't big enough to hold any weapons, else I might not have to worry about Christmas shopping for reason of being imprisoned.

* Work. It's been particularly stressful for the past few weeks due to several reasons which I won't bore anyone with, but even under normal circumstances I find it absolutely exhausting. If you are able to, I highly recommend either taking time off or working part-time during the last trimester of pregnancy. I work in an office and sit in front of a computer all day long. One would think an eight-month pregnant woman could easily handle such sedentary work for 37.5 hours a week. And maybe a normal eight-month pregnant woman could handle this, maybe I'm just a big wimp. But still...if I was allowed to and could afford it, working half the hours I'm working now would be heavenly. And I think I'd have much fewer daily fantasies of homicide.

Always one to play Devil's Advocate, I can see many possible positive sides to all of this. Obviously, I realize the lack of sleep is something I'm just going to have to get used to. The trouble I'm having now is simply preparing me for all of the nighttime feedings and changings and screamfests I'll have the pleasure of enduring. (I still have my fingers crossed that Baby Neener will love sleep and being lazy as much as his mommy and daddy do. Just like I'm still hoping in the next month doctors will devise a way for women to give birth without actually giving birth. Like, beaming the baby up and out of the mother's body and into her arms. It could happen.) Maybe all of this will help me to be a more patient person. And more importantly, a more patient mother. I physically can't do a lot of things around here on my own, and Stephen is too busy and tired for me to bark at him to do these things. So...I just have to wait until he's available to get to them. (AND IT'S KILLING ME! Patience is soooo lame!) And, maybe all of this will help me to prioritize my life and my lifestyle. Maybe -shocker- the fact I haven't been able to buy a pretty new Coach purse in over a year isn't the end of the world. Maybe -shocker- using generic face cream isn't going to make the skin on my face peel off and leave me looking like a burn victim. (I just bought it a few days ago, though, so I can't say this with absolute certainty. I'll keep you posted if I discover otherwise.) Maybe -shocker- I don't have to spend a buttload of money on every single person in our family for Christmas - maybe they will understand and still love me if I only spend a little on them this year. Maybe -shocker- Christmas really isn't about the gifts, after all! (How far into the depths of Hell will I be condemned if I confess that the gifts really do add quite a bit to the holiday? I mean, really, if there were no gifts, would people really get as excited and worked up as they do about Christmas? I have to admit I very much look forward to giving and opening gifts. I like gifts for my birthday - why shouldn't there be gifts for Jesus' birthday, too? Otherwise, Christmas is just another Thanksgiving or Easter or Fourth of July. That is just a boring way to celebrate our Lord and Savior's birth, if you ask me.) Maybe the aches and pains of this pregnancy and everything stressful that's happening in our life right now is to show us what's really important in life: FAMILY, HEALTH, LOVE. That maybe, even if things don't go the way you'd hoped or planned for them to, things can still be turned into a positive experience, one that will make you stronger and more wise with gained perspective.

I f**king hate perspective. And I can figure out the meaning to the stupid lesson without actually having to live through it!

Sorry, surely those are just the hormones speaking, right?

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Climbing the Rickety Ladder of Success

Today when I returned to work from lunch, I was called into my boss' office to meet with him and my office manager.

"Oh great," I said as I shut the door behind me. "Am I being fired? And is it because I've gotten so fat? Because I could really use a nice-sized settlement check from the company over a discrimination lawsuit."

"No, Kim. We actually have good news. We've pushed and pushed for this, and Region has finally given in. We're giving you a promotion." And then they both went on and on telling me how wonderful and invaluable I am.

And I was like, "Thanks...Yeah, I know."

All of the positions in the company are tiered - so two people could hold the same position, but be at different levels within that position. I guess it's a way for them to make us feel as if we have real potential to move up within the office when, in fact, we really don't. So now I'm no longer a lowly Legal Secretary I. I'm a bigshot Legal Secretary II. The power I feel is overwhelming. I can't wait to get that extra - what? - $2.50 per paycheck. We're raking in the big bucks now, and I know it's just a matter of time before I'm president of the company.

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Dairy Barn Preparations: Part III

We're still slowly (but surely) piecing the baby's room together. It's frustrating because (a) I have an exact vision in my head of how I want to decorate (which NEVER happens), but, financially, we can't afford to do it exactly that way so I'm having to really stretch my creative skills to accomplish similar results for less, (b) I can't do very much physically because of the giant basketball residing in my gut which leaves me depending largely on Stephen to do the majority of the grunt work, but (c) poor Stephen has been having to work so many hours at now three different jobs because of our financial situation and the lack of luck in finding a "real" job so he doesn't have much time to devote to working on the baby's room.

Thanks to Angie's and her mom's generousity, though, we at least have the most important piece of furniture for the baby - the crib. I think they bought it for us because they, for some strange reason, weren't too keen on my idea of just putting Baby Neener to sleep in a drawer or a basket. It arrived a couple of weeks ago and even with Stephen's busy schedule we were able to put it together within a couple of days. I think it looks very lovely and sophisticated, even without a mattress. But, oddly, Stephen doesn't think Baby Neener should have to sleep on the hard wooden mattress platform, so I suppose we'll be making a trip to my mom's sometime in the near future to pick up the crib mattress that Ella used a few years ago. I can't believe how much he's spoiling this child already. A cushiony place to sleep? Geesh, then what? I suppose he'll need clothing and food, too? Stephen's parents also generously gave us an old dresser for us to use in the baby's room. It needs a lot of work done on it, but we've bought the new hardware for it and Stephen has even starting sanding it, so hopefully in the next week or two it will be completed.

We made a spontaneous trip to Bolingbrook, IL, yesterday to visit our favorite store, IKEA, and found lots of cheap fun stuff for the room, like light fixtures and wall hangings and even a very basic changing table that kinda looks like it's made out of matchsticks. We're hoping it'll be sturdy enough to hold his ginormous weight considering the fact that everyone is under the belief I'm going to give birth to a forty-pound baby. We were even lucky enough that Angie was willing to make the long trek out into "the 'burbs" to see us for a little bit and have dinner with us. I think she really enjoyed listening to me whine the whole time about how badly my back hurt, watching me hike my maternity pants up every thirty seconds, and witnessing me occasionally hobble around like Frankenstein with a bad limp when the baby would press on my sciatic nerve. I personally can't think of any better way to spend your Saturday evening than with Pregnant Kim.

Keep your fingers crossed that progress will continue and I'll have more to report soon. Otherwise, my impatience may kill me. With Stephen's assistance. I get the feeling he's not the biggest fan of the impatient side of me.

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Doctor Confirms the Obvious: Tummy Is Large

This morning we had our 31 week checkup with the doctor. We're now having the pleasure of going every two weeks for the remainder of the month, and then in December we'll begin making weekly stops. It's weird seeing my doctor more frequently than my relatives and friends.

I've gained another three pounds in the past two weeks (surely that has nothing to do with all the cheeseburgers?), putting me at a total weight gain of about 14 pounds. The results from the bloodwork I had done last time were normal. The baby's heartbeat is normal. My tinkle is normal. My aches and pains are normal.

After my doctor measured the length of my uterus like she does at every visit, she sat down and began entering the measurements in her laptop. Nonchalantly, she made the comment, referring to my uterus, "Hmm...You're actually a little larger than normal, but that's okay." Already knowing the answer, I tentatively asked, "What does that mean?" "Well, it could mean you're going to have a big baby." To that I replied, "No! There's no room for a big baby in there!" She kind of chuckled as if to say, just you wait....

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Week 31: Down to the Single Digits

Week 31. Approximately nine weeks to go. Nine. As in 9. As in no double digits. As in the beginning of the end that will mark the beginning of the hugest beginning I've ever embarked.

Oh, @&%$!

I'm scared of labor. I'm planning on having an epidural, which scares me, too. I've heard it doesn't hurt, but I know there's a giant needle involved that will be stuck in my spine and I know I'll have to have an IV. I've never had an IV before, and I don't want one. I've also read that they often put catheters in when you have an epidural. I don't want one of those, either. I don't like the idea of not being able to feel my lower half at all - this totally freaks me out. I've never had to stay in a hospital before - I've only had to go to the hospital for my own health once, and that was when I was seven for stitches in my leg - and even though I'll be delivering in a brand new, super nice, more-like-a-hotel-than-a-hospital hospital, I don't want to have to stay in the hospital. I'm scared of the pain, I'm scared of the stuff that takes away the pain, I'm scared of something going wrong...I'm just plain scared.

I know all of these feelings are normal and almost every woman has these fears regarding childbirth. However, I just want to feel excitement and elation. All this damn fear is putting a damper on things.

I am growing increasingly more excited with each passing day, though. Time has absolutely flown by, and now that the holidays are approaching, I know time will go by even more quickly. The baby's room has a CRIB set up in it now - though we still have to pick up the mattress from my mom's - and we've got a closet full of tiny clothes in which to don him. We have the car seat and stroller, so we can be as mobile as a newborn allows you to be. We've got diapering supplies, two diaper bags, grooming supplies, towels, a first aid kit, and, of course, my boobs. Baby Neener will be well-fed, clean, groomed, properly dressed, able to legally travel, and he won't have to sleep in a drawer. The panicking I was doing last month regarding feeling unprepared is beginning to subside as people have so graciously and generously helped out to fluff our little nest. Of course, other kinds of panicking are replacing the old panic (see previous paragraph), but feeling as if we have all the necessities before the baby arrives takes a huge weight off our shoulders.

Physically I'm doing pretty well - things are basically the same as they have been. My back is hurting more and I'm beginning to have more difficulty sleeping, but I had expected this. I bought a super sexy (NOT) maternity belly/back support belt just over a week ago, and it seems to help alleviate much of the pain. Or, at least, it makes it tolerable, and that's all I ask for. I've also been experiencing more pressure on my sciatic nerve this past week, which is ever so delightful. There's nothing like walking briskly to the bathroom at work because the baby suddenly decides to treat your bladder like a whoopee cushion and all of a sudden having your leg freeze up from your hip down to your knee, causing you to instinctively clutch your right buttock with your hand and hobble in a Frankenstein manner the rest of the way, praying to God the pain doesn't make you forget to hold your tinkle in. It's fun. For other people to witness. But, I haven't put on 80 pounds. As roly poly as I feel, I'm not miserable, and that's good enough for me.

Baby Neener is as active as ever. My favorite thing right now, other than searching for discounted Halloween baby items, is feeling him push and "slide" under my skin and trying to figure out what body part of his I'm feeling. Even though his kicks are at times uncomfortable and sometimes even slightly painful, it's an amazing feeling as his movements become more mature, no longer feeling like squirmy thumps but instead feeling like a tiny person is trying to break out of his uterine prison from within my body. I can't even begin to express how unbelievably excited I am to see this little guy for the first time, how much love I feel for him even as he's wiggling his toes defiantly in my ribcage and how much my love grows every day, how completely crazy the concept is that in a couple of months we'll be bringing a new person into our house, into our lives, into the world.

Despite all my whining, this motherhood thing - I think I'm really going to enjoy it. After the labor, of course.

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Speaking of Burgers...

We finally ate at Bub's (located on the Monon Trail in darling Old Town Carmel) for the first time this afternoon for lunch. Their specialties are burgers and ice cream. The smell of the cooking cow flesh permeates the air in a most heavenly way, so we'd always been tempted to stop in but never did since I wasn't eating meat. However, since I've become a big pig in the past few weeks, we went ahead and went crazy and had ourselves a couple of nice, big, fat, greasy burgers (with cheese for me) and a large basket of fries. The wonderful thing about their burgers is that they're seasoned and grilled - they taste homemade, and in a good way - not burnt like my homemade. And, you can get the onions for your burgers grilled, if you like. Mmmm...

Hey, it's not my fault. They don't have Boca burgers so I had no other choice.

Any of you who haven't been there, next time you're in the neighborhood visiting us and we're trying to think of a place to eat, remember to suggest Bub's. It's sinfully delicious.

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My Many Apologies to the Cows

I've begun eating meat again. Only some meat - not all meat - and pretty much only meat that's really bad for you. Like Wendy's cheeseburgers, and McDonald's cheeseburgers, and Burger King's spicy chicken sandwiches, and Arby's roast beef. Oh, and Burger King's whoppers. Not the junior size, either.

Sadly, I will also admit I ate a grilled hotdog at my mom's. (Actually, I had two.)

I'd been a vegetarian for just over a year and a half, and never slipped up. Right after I discovered I was pregnant, I became very paranoid from reading certain nazi-esque strict pregnancy books that I wasn't going to be able to get enough protein in my diet and my baby would turn out to be a giant glob of jell-o. It's true that you can get plenty of protein from non-meat sources, but I can only enjoy so much peanut butter, dairy products, and beans on a regular appetite, let alone on a nauseous pregnant appetite. So, within a couple of weeks of getting our positive test results, I decided it would be wise to temporarily begin eating meat during my pregnancy - but only white meat and fish. I successfully forced myself to eat chicken three nights in a row, and that's precisely when my nausea successfully kicked in full force for approximately two and a half months.

And thanks to the timing of the morning sickness onset, I still have zero desire to eat chicken (with the exception of Burger King's spicy chicken sandwich, but I'm not sure that's actually real chicken). Not even fried. And that was always my favorite. Bacon also reminds me of being sick thanks to Stephen fixing it in June when I not only had morning sickness but also the stomach flu. Oh, God, the awful, wretched smell. Bacon was also always my favorite. Ruined. Absolutely ruined.

So I went back to my meat-free diet during my days of nausea, which wasn't tough considering my diet was basically food-free. However, over the past couple of months, I've gone back to the dark side, ever so slowly, a burger here, a roast beef there. And I'm picking up pace. What went from having meat once every couple of weeks progressed to about once a week, and now is almost daily. Really, though, I haven't been craving meat; I think it's just the fact that my appetite, though HUGE, is still a little on the finicky side. All of the usual meals I ate I was just plain getting sick of. And honestly...I am exhausted, cranky, achy, and just plain lazy. I haven't got the energy at this point in time to grow a baby, keep myself functioning, and come up with new and tasty vegetarian meals that myself and my picky husband will eat. Stephen came home this evening with supplies for tacos for tomorrow night, ground beef included. I'm too tired to resist.

Will I revert back to my meatless diet after the baby is born? I've been relentlessly teased since I quit eating meat (like it's any of people's business what I do and don't eat), but I'm really proud of myself for having kept it up for as long as I did. Only time will tell if I will go completely meat-free again; I'm not going to make any promises. I honestly do feel badly about it - I know it's totally lame in most people's opinion, but I really hate the killing of animals. I think it's cruel, and I think it's gross. I grew up seeing countless pig trucks heading to Wilson's/IBP/Tyson from the local farms. We lived on the same side of town as the slaughter plant and in the summertime, ugh, the smell! The SMELL!!! I also have to say I felt healthier and somehow cleaner when not eating meat.

But dammit, those Wendy burgers sure do taste mighty good. And do you realize how difficult it is to maintain a vegetarian diet when you eat out as often as we do and your husband hates cheese, eggs, and vegetables? Thank God for pasta and cereal.

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The Gayest Little Kitties of Them All

It's been quite awhile since I've documented the love affair between our two male cats, Sam and Charlie. They were dispensing some nauseatingly cute doses of affection on each other recently right next to me, so I couldn't help but take a few pictures. Strangely enough, they don't seem to mind much when I invade their privacy with the camera. Maybe they're just into exhibitionism, too?

Hopefully living with these two will also help prevent our child from growing up to be a close-minded homophobe who hates cats.

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