This and That

1.  37 weeks today, party people!  Full-effing-term!  Pretty freaky that from any point on we could just, like, have a baby.  Guess I'd better get that carseat installed, huh?  And that hospital bag packed.  And those meatballs made to put in the freezer.  Shoot.  Still too much crap to do.

2.  Had an ultrasound on Friday and the boy was weighing in at 7 lbs. 3 oz., which was only like a week ahead.  And his head was only measuring a week ahead, which was comforting since at our last ultrasound his head was measuring 3 weeks ahead.  I mean, I've got a strong body and all, but I don't want to split in half.  It's freaky to look at clothes in his closet and be all, "Oh, he could just wear this, like, right now."  Man oh man.  Oh, and the boy's in the perfect position for being born, so that's nice.  Also nice that he's following directions at such an early age.

3.  We had the most fun weekend ever.  Really it deserves its own post, but I'm lazy and uncomfortable because I'm full of a fetus and about 4,000 calories worth of food right now, so I'll do it later.

4.  United States of Tara is our new favorite ellipting show.  It's on Netflix instant, and you might need to watch it.

5.  I need Mad Men to come back RIGHT NOW.  RIGHT NOW!  There's not enough Don Draper in my life.  (Matt quit smoking and I can't have bourbon in the middle of the day anymore.)

6.  Feeling like a horrible (which I just accidentally typed out whorrible--uh, hi there, Mr. Freud) person because I totes missed the 100th birthday of one of my all-time faves: the Oreo.  WHY ARE THEY SO GOOD?  Happy birthday, sweet Oreo.  Also, if I don't get a package of these birthday cake Oreos I'm going to have a tantrum.

7.  Back in the Day Bakery cookbook came out yesterday, but I'm waiting until Saturday to buy my copy from the bakery itself and see if I can't get it signed.  Can't wait to thumb through those pages and get my shiny book all covered in flour and baking messes!  Oh, and speaking of the cookbook, you should probably read Cheryl Day's interview about it here.  My favorite part is about their wedding.

8. Finally, I guess you're just dying to see what I look like full-term.  Here's a picture of me jumping.

I'm really into wearing black and white lately.  It's so early '90s.

Hey There!

Well, looks like I'm back to slackogging (that's slacker-blogging, for those of you who aren't linguists).  Oh well. I've actually been relatively productive/busy in real life, so let's use that as our excuse, shall we?

We have 4 1/2 weeks left until the boy's due date, which means that I only have 1 1/2 weeks left until I'm considered full term and the kid can just show up whenever he wants.  Matt and I are both really punctual people, so hopefully this kid will have inherited that from us and will get here on time, but not too early.  The actual due date is March 28, and Matt and I decided that it would work out nicely for us if I could start having contractions on the afternoon of the 24th, and then boy can make his grand appearance on Sunday, March 25 in the early evening.  That gives me plenty of hours of labor to guilt him with later in life, and it's convenient, and it means that I won't have some gross situation where my water breaks at school and I have to ask a custodian to please mop up my amniotic fluid (hopefully it's not like this).

Shit's getting real, y'all.  I mean, I have dairy products in my refrigerator that will still be good when this kid gets here!  And Matt realized the other night as he watched Survivor* that by the time the tribes merge, we'll have a baby.  I've got a big thick binder full of lesson plans for a sub, the nursery's just about finished, and today I whipped up (and by whipped up I do mean gave myself carpel tunnel with all of the veggie chopping) a triple batch of bolognese so that we'll have some backup meals in the freezer.

Hmmmmm, so what else has been going on?

Oh, I went to Augusta for Cassie's shower, which was super fun.  And I took blackberry pie bars, which were delicious (and good for you because they have fruit in them).  There may have been a slight parchment paper/broiler fire episode that prompted me to eat a few bars myself (quality assurance--didn't want to feed people charred pie bars!).

I had a doctor's appointment this week and had gained 9 pounds in two weeks.  I maintain that that weigh-in doesn't count because Matt and I had just eaten lunch at an Indian food buffet (and I take buffet eating VERY seriously--remember the Fattest of the Fat contests?), but it's possible that it counts more than I'd like to admit because of the aforementioned blackberry pie bars and random feeling-sorry-for-myself-because-I'm-uncomfortable-and-have-to-birth-a-human-soon treats.

Ooh!  We went and saw Stephen King, which was completely awesome.  Matt's a huge Stephen King fan.  I wish I was, but I'm not because I'm the worst reader ever and I don't like to be scared.  But I am a big fan of the man himself.  I was also excited when someone asked him what books he would recommend to teach to high schoolers, and he basically rattled off every book I teach my kiddies.  Matt will have to tell you more about that later (In his new Matt Attack section of the blog!  Get excited!).

Totes took the wrong lens.  Oh well.

The weather's been out of control beautiful.  We've had our windows open almost every day this week.

Pretty sure I wore my hair like this in the '80s.

The dogs have been out of control cute.

Mitch likes to feel his brother kick.

I have one million pictures just like this and I love them all. 

Here's how jealous Mitch is of the computer.  Can't wait to see how he responds to his human brother. 

And, finally, I am really uncomfortable.  I'm trying not to be one of those annoying complaining constantly pregnant people (because, honestly, what did I think was going to happen as I made the decision to try to gestate a human being with my Hagrid genes?), but I can tell you that I am very much looking forward to a day in the near future where I drink many margaritas and then pass out on my stomach.**  And maybe there will be a cold club sandwich in there just for fun.

We've got a full week ahead of us.  Next weekend is jam-packed with fun and friends and family and food, so get excited, peeps!   I know I am!



*Baby, if you are reading this far, far in the future.  Your dad totally watched Survivor.  By the time you read this, Survivor will be in its 248th season, and your dad will still be watching it.  Don't judge him for this.


**Baby, if you are reading this far, far in the future.  Sorry, your mom's totally a lush.  But you probably knew that already.  Hey, at least I don't watch Survivor!

You Are Getting Very Sleepy (except that you're not because there's a human clawing its way out of your body)

I'm afraid of giving birth.

Like for real so afraid.

And it doesn't help that every single show that Matt and I watch, it seems, has featured some woman giving birth this season. After watching one of these episodes a while ago, I felt a little shellshocked, and just started crying, blubbering, "I don't want to do that."

It also doesn't help that every woman who sees that I'm knocked up deems it necessary to tell me all about her birth experience. I mean, I get the whole shared experience thing, but can't we wait and talk about it in the summer? Let's remember that I'm the wuss who won't even look when I get a shot, the one who was in tears while getting a tattoo the size of a quarter.

A while back, Ann suggested that I look into Hypnobirthing, explaining that it's basically a mind-over-matter type of deal where you convince yourself that the labor is not that bad. As far as I know, there's no clucking like chickens or anything as it's not actual hypnosis, but she said a few of her friends did it and loved it and had fast, easy labors and whatnot. So I got the book, and lately I've been trying to buy into Hypnobirthing, but I'm struggling a little bit with the goofiness of it. I'm very much a mind over matter kind of gal (I can cure my hiccups by just thinking about them!), and I think that if I can buy into the method, then I'll have a much more pleasant birth experience. Not that I think it's going to be completely pain-free or anything, but maybe better. Cassie had said that hypnobirthing lost her when it started suggesting that she visualize pretty rainbows, and I felt myself becoming more cynical when I read that I would think of my uterus as "blue satin ribbons." But I'm trying. I really am.

Can I wrap my blue satin ribbon uterus around the base of a cake?

I had my hypnobirthing book with me at my last doctor's appointment, and tried to put it away before he saw what I was reading, but ol' doc asked to see it, and then proceeded to sit and read it for like five minutes, stopping only to shoot annoyed glances and read me select passages from the book.  At one point he just shook his head and said, "That's bullshit."

And here's the thing.  My doctor and I have a little bit of an antagonistic relationship, but he's really been growing on me.  He's really bananas about me not getting too fat, which is annoying but ultimately a good thing**.  So when he does something like call me a cow, I do something like tell him about peanut butter bacon cookies.  And when he says something about how I should never leave the baby alone with a dog, I say something about how we have been planning to have Mitch just be our babysitter.

So I think I've figured out now that the key to my accepting and embracing hypnobirthing is to do it for two reasons: 1.) to annoy my doctor, and 2.) to have a more tolerable birth experience.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be visualizing blue satin ribbons and rainbows.





*Except for Top Chef, because that would be just plain gross.  Ew!  What if they had a quickfire where they had to make a dish out of placenta for some crazy mothers?


**I actually appreciate that he's such a pain in the ass about me not gaining too much weight, because if he was all delicate and sweet and "you're beautiful no matter what blah blah" I would probably have gained like 95 pounds by now.

My New Favorite Chocolate Cake

So, I haven't really been baking much lately because my doctor says that I'm a fat cow.  Well, he doesn't say that so much as he says that pregnant women shouldn't eat sugar and blah blah while he wags his finger in my face and rattles off a list of all of the things I can't eat, a list that could also be titled "Mandy's Favorite Foods."  Shoot.  And then he calls me a cow.*

But I really miss baking, so when I needed a gigantic favor from a coworker last week, I didn't hesitate to try to bribe her with baked goods.  And it worked!  I was figuring that I'd whip up my favorite vanilla cake of all time, but my plan was derailed when she said, after granting my request, "I like chocolate."  And here's the thing: I don't really understand chocolate.  (I know, I know, I'm a dirty blasphemer.  Sorry.)  I have the recipe for the Back in the Day Bakery chocolate cake, but it is a really expensive cake to make (like $15+ just in ingredients), and in addition to being a dirty blasphemer, I'm also cheap.  Then I remembered that I'd seen Smitten Kitchen's recipe for Chocolate Butter Cake recently, and figured I'd give that one a whirl.  I had almost all of the ingredients on-hand already, the process seemed pretty simple, and the recipe had received rave reviews.

So I made the cake and it was the bee's knees.  It did take about 15 minutes longer than Deb had said it would to bake, which could have been either because I was using 8" round pans instead of 8" square pans, or just differences in our ovens.  Other than that, though, the cake was super easy to make.  Of course, it did use coffee, which I had to google how to make because I do not know how to make coffee.  (Some of you are probably unfriending me right now.  No coffee and no chocolate?  WTF?  Here's another: I don't eat seafood.)

Then I faced the task of finding a chocolate icing, another thing I really don't understand.  I went with this Chocolate Buttercream recipe, which was also pretty simple to make and used cocoa powder instead of chocolate that I would have to melt.  I wasn't crazy about the icing when I tasted it by itself, but when it was paired with the cake, it was divine--creamy and sweet, and a tiny bit salty.  The icing really had the best texture. Oh, and the recipe made enough icing to frost the entire huge cake, which was awesomepants.

And the finished product smelled amazing.  Last night after Matt and I ate [a pretty healthy] dinner, we were both sitting around wanting dessert.  So we did some quality assurance testing and cut right into the cake that I was supposed to take to my coworker.  Oops!  How else would I know it wasn't poisonous, though?  You're not supposed to poison coworkers after they help you out.  We were protecting her.  Yeah, that's it.

So, if you're in need of a chocolate cake recipe, I'd recommend this one.  Do you have a favorite chocolate cake recipe?

Smitten Kitchen's Chocolate Butter Cake
Savory Sweet Life's Chocolate Buttercream Frosting


*He never called me a cow.  

This and That

Consider yourself forewarned.  This is almost all about pregnancy and baby crap.

1.  I think that being knocked up is simultaneously more of a big deal and less of a big deal than I thought it would be.  Sometimes I'm all "whatev" and feel completely normal and even forget that I'm pregnant.  Other times I wonder how this lung-crushing, sleep-destroying fetus is going to make his way out of me, and one of two things happens: either my eyes get really big and then I just change the subject and eat a grilled cheese, or I cry.  Going to have to face that reality soon, I suppose.

2.  Nursery is nearing completion.  We've got a crib, shelves, curtains that are no longer strangulation hazards (at least I don't think they are), and things are slowly coming together.  I can't wait to show it to you!

3.  So, I currently weigh three pounds more than I did at my first doctor's appointment in August, which I think is a huge giant accomplishment (granted, I was 8 weeks pregnant at that appointment and had spent the month before that inhaling grilled cheese sandwiches and orange juice, so I may have actually gained more weight since actually becoming with child, but I don't know because we don't own a scale).  It's good for me not to gain too much weight because I started from a place of way too fat.  Remember Operation: Skinny Unicorn?  Yeah, that was a bust, or, rather, it devolved into Operation: Drink as Much Wine and as Many Margaritas as Possible before You Can't Anymore, which may have resulted in some additional poundage.  I have a secret goal to use this whole baby-growing process as a way to lose weight.  We'll see.  Come spring, my body will be torn to shreds, but I'll be skinnier, dammit!

4.  I already talked about my hypocrisy with 4-d ultrasound photos.  I've taken it a step farther, though, by analyzing the crap out of that picture.  Do you think the baby looks like Jordan?  Or am I just bananas?

5.  Is this is best baby shower invite you've ever seen in your life or what?  Also, how do you feel about a Teen Mom theme for a baby shower?  You know, Ed Hardy clothes and candy cigarettes?  Nevermind, that's a terrible idea.

6.  I had a dream last night that I shaved my legs.  Ha!  Yeah, like that would happen.  Plus, I'm not sure that I could even do that anymore.

7.  Oh yeah, totes gave my stomach bug plague to Matt, who in turn gave me his cold.  We're not usually such a sickly bunch, and it's been a little bit on the miserable side (except for the popsicles!).  We just keep telling ourselves, "better now than in a few months."

Well, there you have it.  I would take a little "here's how fat I am now" picture for you, but I'm covered in dirt and dressed like a cross between one of those people on those "customers of Wal-Mart" email forwards and Pete from O Brother, Where Art Thou?.  (Too bad I can't r-u-n-n-o-f-t since I can hardly get off of the couch.  Stupid limited mobility.)  I've got big plans for today.  They include George Clooney, a shower, probably a spicy chicken sandwich, and some Downton Abbey.

What are you up to?

Two Down, One to Go

Today I am 28 weeks, which means that I'm officially in the third trimester.  So far I think I've been a little bit of a rock star of a knocked-up gal (excepting, of course, The Great Meltdown of December 30-31, 2011).  I've been exercising and eating better than I did before and not been the incarnate of Satan that Matt and I both feared that I would become in this condition.  Plus, I can still totally touch my palms to the ground from a standing position, so I'm proud of that.  

And tell me that these aren't just the cutest things you ever did see.  (Matt says I'm not allowed to try to put one on Mitch.  I say I wouldn't do that, duh, because there's no spot for a tail.  Plus, Mitch is housebroken.  Of course, it would be pretty cute.  Get me the scissors!)

I love everything in this picture.

  

There's so much to be excited about (meeting the boy, decorating a nursery), and so much to be annoyed by (seriously, strangers and students, do not touch me) or afraid of (for real though, I have to push what out of where?), and so much to be fascinated by (the boy can see light now--let the flashlight games commence!).  And after I rock the socks off of my glucose test on Monday, I'm going to go on an all cookies and cake and ice cream diet, which should definitely do its part to keep the baby (and me) from getting too gargantuan.  I'm basically a nutritionist.  

Oh, and on a related note, people are suddenly all interested in how fat I am, so here's a picture that I took in a mirror.  

Happy now?

Also, why is it so funny to do this?

Random person [who is probably about to try to touch me]: Oh, I didn't know you were pregnant!  When are you due?

Me: I'm not pregnant.  What makes you say that?

So funny I can't stand it.  

Shoot Yeah!

Go check out why I've been so incredibly excited these last few weeks.

And enjoy this lovely number on your Saturday morning.



And, everyone else, now I'll stop nagging you to get pregnant with me.  

Good to Know. . .

As you probably know, we've been pro-baby around these parts for a little while. 

I'm still in disbelief, too.

I'm in disbelief because there's nothing that I'm more afraid of than being pregnant.  Nothing.  Not jumpy frogs, not albino killers, not anything.

Fortunately, our good friend Christina recently mailed me a book with some tips about pregnancy, and now that I'm better-informed, I'm feeling a little bit more comfortable about getting myself knocked up (or "in trouble" if we're talking Dirty Dancing speak).

For example, now I know that I need to ride that mechanical bull sooner rather than later.

And that it's not okay to eat monkey brains with a spoon while nurturing a fetus.

Or to continue taking 'roids.  (Oh man, what if I was with child and got poison ivy!?  Then what would I do?)

No keggers or skydiving, either?!  Now that's some bull jive.

Well, at least there's a spinning wheel of responsibility. 

I mean, if I have to go almost a year without digging into monkey brains with a spoon, then it's only fair that Matt would have to change more diapers.  Am I right or am I right?  Or am I right?

Hola, 2011.

New Year's is nice, but I kind of don't care about it.

Since I have been either in school or teaching school since I was five (except for those two years after college when I just waited tables and made bad decisions), I measure my years by school years instead of calendar years.  So really New Year's is just kind of depressing to me because it means that I have to go back to work soon, and gone will be the days of lounging around in my pajamas, staying up until 4:00 a.m. talking to Matt and drinking wine, and then sleeping in until noon just because I can.

And I don't really do resolutions, either (I talked about it some last year, but really it's just because I'm lazy and don't care).  And since it's considered poor form to make your New Year's resolution "to get knocked up," well, I guess I'm just going to say that I don't have one.

But I do think Mitch wants a kid sister.  (Yeah, yeah, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit, too.) (Oh, and we're not getting a goat!  Not that kind of kid!)

This is the part where I post 7 of the 121 pictures I took of him snuggling with Iris and Opal on the couch tonight while they watched Toy Story 3.

For serious!

In other news, tomorrow is my last day of vacation, and I kind of want to lie on the ground and kick and scream like a small child.  But we've got oodles of fun fast approaching, so there's no point in being a baby.

Also, my car won't start.  (Booooo!)

Also, it's raining, which means that I won't be vacuuming the floor for at least nine days.

I'm out of things to say right now.  Except that I'm ashamed of myself for still liking (really liking) Don Draper after he does so many skeevy things.

Oh man, looks like 2011 is off to a rocky start.

How about you?  Any resolutions?  Any dogs on couches with cute girls?

Garfunkel and Oates

If you've never experienced the magic that is Garfunkel and Oates, then you're in for a treat. I want to be friends with these girls.

This first song hits a little too close to home. And the second one I probably emailed to you about six months ago, but I can't get enough of it.