TWO is still nameless.

Selecting the right name is a huge responsibility. We don’t take it lightly. There are just so many choices. It’s overwhelming.

I’m not a fan of having hundreds of options. Give me two or three and I can make a quick decision. But if you put me in a situation with endless options, I get bogged down. And Husband completely SHUTS down.

We’re getting closer. I can feel it.

Sigh.

I’m in my third trimester. Finally. And I am grumpy acting like a complete bitch.

For awhile I chalked it up to stress, lack of rest, or the exhaustion of going through this difficult phase with ONE. But actually, I think it’s just that I’m uncomfortable all the time. That can really make a person feel pissed off. 

And it’s hot. And it’s hard to bend over. And my wedding ring is coming off today because it’s squeezing my fat finger.

Thankfully, Husband has been through this before and this time he’s been much more understanding than he was when I was pregnant with ONE. I’ve actually blocked out certain parts of our marriage from that period of time. It’s not his fault … he just didn’t know.

He knows now.
  

Here is what 28 weeks pregnant looks like. My boobs are trying to take over my neck. And not in a sexy way.

(www.realsimple.com)

I have been struggling with an overwhelming urge to NEST for several months now. My husband, who was not born with a sense of urgency, does not understand.

“We still have three months,” he says. Well, yes. We do. But that doesn’t matter to a nesting pregnant woman, does it? It only pisses her off.

Yesterday, we made progress. He got so annoyed with me that he (FINALLY!!) went into the attic and pulled out the bassinet that has been in storage since ONE was about 3 months old. It made me so happy to remove the covers and wash them in mild detergent and hang them up to dry. I was giddy. I keep looking at the basket and rocking it and telling TWO that he has a place to sleep now.

At least we have THAT. Phase two will begin next weekend. My parents are coming and they are workhorses — that’s where I get it from, apparently — and I plan to make the most of it. Not only are we going to set up the baby’s room, but we are going to transform ONE’s room into an awesome big boy’s room. And maybe change out the dining room light fixture. 

Hopefully Husband will make the most of their help as well, because he knows that whatever is left after they leave … is his problem.

p.s. I somehow convinced Husband that I need to hire a cleaning service to get my house spotless before the baby arrives. I mean, he nodded like he was in total agreement. He didn’t even ask how much it would cost. VICTORY!!!!

Fact: I have entered a whole new level of emotional craziness. I’ve likened it to PMS on crack. I no longer feel sorry for my Husband. I want to rip his face off.

I’m not sure there is a cure for it, except to have this baby. 

Three months to go.

Last night Husband got home as I was hauling myself out of the tub. No easy feat.

He waited while I spent the next 10 minutes moisturizing my skin. I have developed a nightly ritual that involves a concoction of Vasline, lavender-scented baby oil, and St. Ives lotion. I have high hopes that my efforts will pay off and I’ll escape this pregnancy with minimal stretch marks like I did with ONE.

That experience (ONE) left me with three stretch marks that have faded and now I can’t even find them. So I fully expect that this experience (TWO) will leave me relatively unscathed. I’ll be pissed if I’m wrong.

While all of this was happening I issued an official warning to Husband that with each passing day from now until TWO’s arrival, he can go ahead and plan on me being more and more disagreeable.

You can go ahead and plan on that too, readers.

I leave you with today’s thought:

Publix brand pear vanilla lowfat yogurt. I don’t know why, but it’s really tasty.

I wish I had about 4 more containers of this stuff.

The naming process has begun.

I have an unusual name. We like uncommon names in our house, which we exhibited when ONE was born. In fact, we kept the name a secret until his arrival simply because we didn’t care to hear the feedback from other people.

People annoy me with their unwelcome opinions. But you see, once a baby is born and officially named, all (most) people will say is “oh!” or, “that’s nice!” if they don’t like the name.

I’ve started a list of names that we will NOT be naming this baby. I was inspired by my job … I talk to the good people of Alabama and Mississippi all day long. You can do with that what you will.

** Please don’t take offense if your name is listed here.

Granvil
Stedman
Ernest
Diamario
Harry
Jesus

Several weeks ago I wrote a glowing post about some jeans that I found at A Pea In The Pod. I loved the first pair so much, my mother mailed me a second pair.

All was fine and good until last week when I discovered said jeans (both pairs of them) were getting … snug. I finally accepted that our relationship was just not going to continue to work unless I started hanging them up to dry. I have quite the collection of “hang-dry only” clothes that I’m actually too big to wear, but I just can’t say goodbye to them yet.

Fast forward to this morning.

I accidentally dried my jeans last night.

I was determined to put them on my body anyway.

DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO SQUEEZE INTO TOO-TIGHT PANTS WHILST OILED UP WITH COCOA BUTTER?

It’s a BITCH. But I did it.

I won. And I’ll be wearing a dress tommorrow.

I’m in a pickle.

I think I have razor burn. But I can’t say for sure. It’s in an area I’ve lost sight of.