The first Friday of high school football and I'm wondering where the heck time went? Sunday my g'ma turns 94 (wow!) and Tuesday = September. Yikes. In one week I'll be 32...and finished with week 36. Yowsa! Where did this pregnancy go? Seems I was just sneaking to the lab to take a pregnancy test to surprise hubby. Now I sit here, trying to find some sort of comfortable way to blog while trying to breathe and keep baby's rear end from bursting through my navel. Several highlights involving Jack and his antics:


Head butt (gently) to my belly. "Mom. I want to pop your belly."

Knock, knock, knock (on the belly) "Hello? Is anyone home?"

"Maddie," he says. "Get off of my peanuts!" In case you were wondering, peanuts = penis.

A second time using the rocks in the yard for an outhouse. I suppose at least it wasn't in his pants and I didn't have to clean it up. Yay!

And finally...Miss Maddie taken to get spayed. Veterinarian found my leggings (the pants I own five pairs of and love and wear for every single workout and consider my "uniform" outside of work) inside of her...belly. Yes. Makes me wonder what other treasures have passed through her stomach of steel. She is a dingbat, but I love her. She infuriates me at times, but how can I be mad at a dog who insists on laying in my lap like a baby? 60 pounds of monster puppy.


My belly has dropped - just a smidge. I do still have a minuscule belly button, but that is quickly going by the wayside. I'm thinking it's not actually going to "pop out", which is sort of a relief because I have a serious fear of outties and if I actually had one, I'd probably have to do something drastic with some type of tape. Baby's head is headed for the light at the end of the tunnel and I can sure tell. I swear there is a shot put in there. I still have no clue what I think it is and feel about as intuitive as Phoebe when she was pregnant on Friends. My sister, however has had a recurring and extraordinarily vivid dream about a dark-haired baby girl coming about three weeks ahead of schedule. Hmm. That would be in two weeks. As much as I'm ready to be finished, I think I'd like he/she to cook a little longer than that. Nice & crispy is fine with me.


Potty training is also...well, not really happening anymore. Jack is no longer interested and I can't stress about it - I have enough on my plate and the last thing I need is to worry about him going to the bathroom when we could be enjoying other things. I know he'll do it when he's ready. I am slightly disappointed because I had such high hopes for a firetruck-underwear-wearing toddler before baby got here, but it's seriously not happening. No amount of trucks, marshmallows, balloons, or bribes have gotten him away from the dark side. He clearly does not want to go the "big boy" way. Although he is embarrassed to wear diapers, so we do have that on our side I suppose.


Well, as I said, it's Friday night during school, which = me as a football widow. As in, I've lost my husband to refereeing for the next several weeks and will be dating Jack and catching up on whatever movies Red Box has to offer. Which really is fine - I think I need to keep things as low key as possible.


Time to stretch out and give this baby some room to start wiggling...the nighttime dance party has begun!

"Mommy, open your tummy," Jack tells me. He's sleepy...he wants me to pull up my shirt and then lay on my bare belly. Then he'll say, "Mommy, did you put lotion on your tummy?" He loves my belly and just told me yesterday, "Mommy, I want to get inside of your belly with baby." He lays against it constantly. "Mommy, let's watch cartoons and I can lay on your belly." He is growing up so fast and shooting things with his imaginary guns, playing with his trucks, tackling us during a game of football, then comes at me with the sweet baby comments to totally knock me out of whack. He is my sweet little bear who is grouchy in the morning like me and snores like his daddy at night. Just yesterday he crawled into bed with us and whined that he needed my body pillow because his legs hurt. Which is the same excuse I used for having it a few nights before. "Mommy's legs get sore at night sweetie, this pillow helps." Apparently he is pregnant also. He wants to come with me to exercise and rub lotion on my belly and then his own before bedtime. Just the other night we spent 10 minutes on this important task. Each morning he gets into his daddy's drawer to put on "shave" (deodorant). Over his shirt. Today he asked me to smell his armpits.

I love that little guy so much...I know I face the dilemma that all mothers do when they decide to bring a second little one into the world. I know I can love them both enough, I just don't want Jack to be mad at his momma. I know it's inevitable that he will be jealous and upset at first. But I still want him to know he's my first baby and that's a place no one will ever have in my heart. (Oh my God, am I seriously crying right now? I am.) Will he ever know just how much I love him? That for me, he hung the moon? I feel guilty these days doing things on my own, thinking I should spend as much time with him as possible before new baby comes. Then I think of how little time I will have alone in a few weeks and know that I need that time to myself. It's a never-ending cycle for mommas. I don't think dads share the same guilt and feelings. There's no way they could - and it's not bad - it's simply different for moms.

I just want to kiss and love Jack a zillion times a day. Hear his laugh echoing through my ears like last night when we read some silly penguin book that I never dreamed would make him laugh like it did. We read it three times in a row. I want him to call me "mama coyote" (or horsey, birdy, piggy, kitty, insert animal here) to his "baby coyote" forever. As with all mothers, I could go on and on, but instead I will post pics.

Driving to "practice"...

Wearing his favorite "Go Cubs Go" shirt
At the parade

So, I'm looking at nursing bras online. I had forgotten just how hideous (although needed) they were. I even found some that said "sexy nursing bras". Wow - really. Is there really anything sexy about unleashing the beast for a snack? Maternal, yes. Fantastic, loving, wonderful, yes. Sexy, no. And I'm sorry, but lace does not equal sexy. It equals itchy. Victoria's Secret it's not. And expensive to boot for something I will only need for about a year, but I guess if you do it, you gotta do it right.

Jack is getting funnier by the day and busy as ever. He never stops going, talking, running, or playing. And the kid loves to swim - he swims underwater! It's amazing to see - of course by the time swimming is over, his poor eyes are bloodshot because he can't manage to keep them closed and he's swallowed a gallon of pool water, but he loves it. And I, personally, have given up swimming. I simply do not want to look at myself in a bathing suit again, therefore I believe no one else does either. At least not until next summer. Maybe.

We had our 32 week appointment today! It's official - we are down to the two week appointments. I am measuring exactly at 32 weeks (and feel like it's 42) and baby's little heart is thumping away at 150-160. Not to mention the beating it's putting on my belly. Wow, the kid is a future Rockette or soccer star. Possibly a punter. Or boxer. I remember sleeping more with Jack and hardly ever feeling him at night. Not so much on this little devil. I wake up and it's "hello, mama!". I hope this is not foreshadowing. He/she seems to take very few breaks during the day.

All in all, I am getting extremely anxious to get this little one here. It could be a problem having so many things done - I am running out of ways to keep myself busy. Guess I will have to invent some new projects...