Something to scare you this Halloween....

Woo hoo!!! October is here! That means Lentil Bean is coming soon. I'm officially "full term" so it could be anytime in the next few weeks. Let's hope for sooner rather than later because the last month or so of this ordeal is pretty much crappy.

Anyhow, since I'm not sure how much longer I'll have this orb attached to me so I thought I'd better immortalize it here and give you all a good scare with some photos sure to make you double wrap in the future. Sadly, this is what I see when I look down...
Perhaps even more sad, just six months into married life, this is what Q sees every morning:
I don't know, but I think I kind of resemble Demi Moore's Vanity Fair preggo layout...except maybe she had better lighting and no granny panties as an accessory:
Oh, and for your further amusement and enjoyment, some of you will be pleased to learn I have now topped the 170 lb mark on my latest weigh-in at the doctor. Good friend B said she's delivering the baby jogger next week so I can get back in shape right away. Thanks, B.

The Incredible Expanding Woman

Spoke with MB the other day and he begged for a recent picture of my ever-expanding self. Ever one to please, I asked Q to take one last weekend. I handed him the camera and he took this one of me from behind. He's romantic like that.
You can hardly tell I'm pregnant, right? Some might even think, "Wow, nice arse." Then I turn to the side and people flee at the sight of The Great Pumpkin:
I don't know what's up with my hair, either. I got it cut - a phenomenon among preggos - we feel ugly so we go do something like lop off our locks so we can go home and cry about it to our bewildered spouses. Then we put our feet up and eat ice cream while lamenting the loss of hair. I believe it was BH who once asked what a cankle is. This, my friends, is a cankle:
I actually think it may be a thankle on some days. Note the crease in skin and severe ankle bulge. I can no longer wear anything but men's extra-wide flip flops, and those sometimes leave an indentation. In fact, if you push on my foot you leave a fingerprint. Still, I'd rather have the cankles than the hemorrhoids that most preggos get.

Finally, yes, that is Midge in the background. I'm having a hard time parting with her. Interested callers are treated rudely and not even allowed to come see her as I decide they are not worthy for some reason or other. As Q says, we can just disconnect the battery, cover her up in the barn, and run her once a month until we decide what to do. Sounds good to me.

Bye the way, Lentil is due in about a month!!!

Lentil Bean is Growing Up

The kid's been bugging me about this for weeks. I figure with six weeks until Lentil emerges, he/she was ready for his/her own blog. Some of you may think it's too early, but we are progressive parents...

In other news, that's right - only six weeks until the arrival. I'm glad because this whole being preggo thing is getting old. I'm fat, tired, haven't seen certain body parts in months, and am just plain tired of sucking down Tums like I used to drink Murphy's. If you want to experience pregnancy for a day I suggest strapping a 30 pound medicine ball to your belly, eating something that brings on killer acid reflux, ingesting as much salt as possible so as to have cankles so huge you can leave a finger indentation in them (Q's favorite party trick), then trying to sleep that way. Be sure to have to wake up every two hours to pee or roll that lump over to the other side because your hips hurt. For added effect, turn off your AC or turn your heater up to 98 degrees - the temperature that it always feels like no matter where you are.

Not that I'm complaining...I'm actually very excited to meet Lentil and have a little discussion about the appropriateness of sticking one's feet in another person's ribs or punching them in the bladder.

Farewell to Midge

Just spent the last hour placing ads to sell my beloved Midge - the 1976 Mercedes 450SL I bought myself when I passed the bar exam. This car, especially when topless and accompanied by a non-pregnant me in a matching Dodgers hat turned a few heads in the greater Ventura and Santa Barbara area in its day. I almost sold it when I moved, knowing the mountain roads and unpredictable weather would be the death of her, but couldn't bring myself to do it. Since the move I've driven it a few times and, surprisingly, didn't even need it to snare Q (although he secretly wants to keep her for "date night").

Now, with thoughts of car seats, small person bodily functions, and graham cracker crumbs crushed on leather seats, I've accepted that it's time for Midge to make someone else cool for a while. Besides, I can get a god chunk of change out of her (still less than 92,000 original miles) and know she'll be cared for while I tool around town in my cousin's old Honda Civic.

Yep, that's the replacement, family-friendly car I'm getting. It's practical (4 doors - I've never had one of those!), will run forever, gets good mileage, and, best of all, won't have a car payment. Q and I will reassess the vehicle issue in a few years once we figure out how this whole parenting thing works. And we made a deal that we each get a car, any car that we want, no questions or comments allowed by the other party, in 18 years when the Lentil Bean leaves for college or runs away or does whatever unimaginable teenage thing he or she will inevitably do as payback for my own misspent youth.

Still Smiling

Lentil Bean, that is. Went to the doctor last week because as I had a couple of days in a row wherein I had the distinct pleasure of not only being unable to sleep, fat and cankled to the max, but also leaking fluid while walking around such places as Home Depot and Albertsons. It's lovely to wet yourself in public. This caused my first meltdown of the pregnancy, which I think is pretty good at seven months. And don't think Lentil won't pay for this down the road sometime.

Anyhow, the doctor did all her poking and prodding and everything is fine. The cool thing was that because I'm so old and the leaking of certain things is a bad thing, they sent me for another ultrasound.

The technician remembered me as half of "the fun couple with the smirking baby" and once she assured me all was well in utero she said she wanted to look at the baby's face again to see if it was still smiling because she never sees that in the womb. Mind you this meant switching over to the $400 per minute 4D imaging machine but she said she wouldn't bill us for it. Way cool to have a lab tech who not only remembers you but is willing to use the expensive equipment because she thinks your baby is cute. I told her I hope the kid isn't too cute because I want it to be nerdy and join band or Academic Decathlon or something. I guess not many folks in Bakersfield have such aspirations for their progeny. Go figure.

Anyhow, Lentil has grown considerably since the last look, and now he/she has some serious cupids bow-pouty lips:
Of course, Lentil was frowning a bit at first. The technician commented on it and said she didn't expect to see another smile as she'd never seen the same baby smile twice in the womb. Overachiever that Lentil is destined to become, he/she immediately smiled for us:
I just hope it's an indication of things to come for little Lentil.