She's late, she's late...

Well, maybe not officially late yet. If I go into labor right this second she could still show up on time, but as of tomorrow she'll be properly past-due. I've had three different "Is this labor?" false alarms this week, complete with real live contractions, but they've all fizzled out. Sigh.

Christmas Eve 2013.

I like a nice traditional Christmas Eve. Family, Christmas carols, eggnog (lots of that, please), you know. The usual thing.

That did not happen this year.


Can you guess where this picture was taken?

Instead, while we were speed-cleaning bathrooms to make ready for Christmas guests, Jim decided to make himself scarce. It only took about five minutes of peace and quiet for us to get suspicious and go looking for him. Turns out he was sitting in the computer room with an open bottle of Tylenol and pills scattered around him. That picture above? Yeah, emergency room.


He's not actually doped up; it's just past his bedtime.

We got there pretty rapidly despite my stress contractions and almost hitting a deer. Honestly, it's almost too bad there were no incidents on the way. A car accident and early baby in addition to Jim's possible poisoning would've made this Christmas Eve extra-memorable. But alas, it was not to be. We got there safe and sound, with Jim falling asleep just before we pulled into the parking lot. I guess the excitement of all the Christmas lights on the way was just too much for him.


A very sad and cuddly toddler after getting his hospital gown and IV.

Naturally Jim slept all the way through triage and getting his vitals taken only to be rudely awakened by the IV insertion. Can you imagine how terrible it would be to be woken from a sound sleep by having a giant needle stabbed into your arm by a group of complete strangers in an unfamiliar sterile white room? Poor kid. He kept yelling, "Owwy! Help please!"

It was probably the most tragic thing I've ever seen, no lie.


On the upside, he looked really, really cute in his teeny hospital gown.

To make a long story short, we wound up staying there from about 6 until 10 because they had to take two blood samples four hours apart. Jim adjusted admirably to the situation and quickly became interested in touching all of the delicate instruments, and he even handled the rest of the blood draws bravely ("Oooh! See, mama, red!"). In the end it turned out that he had probably ingested no more than one of the pills, so we were free to go home without any stomach pumping or antidotes or what-have-you. It's not what we'd planned for our Christmas Eve, but it does make for a pretty good story, yeah?

Captain's log, stardate 30.12.2013. This may be my last entry.

So, last time I remarked that 30 weeks felt like panic time. Well, turns out I was wrong. 38 weeks (and change) is definitely panic time. Less than two weeks to go! Jim was a couple days early, too, and they say that your second is usually a little earlier than your first, so really, could be any day now. Holy crap. So let's have an update, since we haven't had one of those in a while.


Me this morning. I feel like I'm going to topple over any second.

How far along? 38 weeks and 2 days.
Total weight gain/loss: Up 28 pounds. At least five of those are from Christmas, though.
Maternity clothes? I have three shirts and one pair of pants that fit. I have some dresses, too, but it's too damned cold for dresses right now.
Stretch marks? Two new ones, each about a centimeter long. I'm hoping they don't spread.
Sleep: Really uncomfortable. My back hurts no matter how I lie.
Best moment this week: I got a bonus ultrasound on Friday, and my sister got to come, so that was fun. Also, Jim announcing firmly that he will help the baby chop down a tree.
Movement: Yes, lots. I think she's trying to tunnel out through my cervix.
Food cravings: Ice cream.
Gender: Ultrasound tech confirmed girl for the fourth time (and used the euphemism 'hamburger' for the girly bits, which is particularly gross, yes?).
Labor Signs: Tons of practice contractions and cervical pressure.
Belly Button in or out? In, but super tiny.
What I miss: Getting off the couch without it being a complete production.
What I am looking forward to: Putting adorable pink hats on her. Also, watching a newborn and a toddler attempt to chop down a tree.
Milestones: Full-term, of course.


We may have gone slightly overboard on the clothes. This is all newborn or 0-3m stuff.

38 weeks with Jim, just for reference. And as a reward for scrolling down this far...


Ultrasound pictures from Friday (37w6d). She definitely looks more like my side than Noah's, I think.


Seriously, look at those cheeks.

Christmas preparations.

So this was basically the most exciting thing that has ever happened to Jim. He's been obsessed with "Kismas teeeeeeeees" ever since he first saw one, so getting our own and setting it up was pretty thrilling. Even Noah the Grinch had to play along with his enthusiasm.


Noah gets the tree ready.


His adoring audience.


Jim proved his might by carrying in the tree stand all by himself.


Jim supervises to ensure a straight tree. Also, Noah is incapable of keeping his shirt around while doing labor of any sort.


I demonstrate proper tree decorating techniques while Jim takes notes.


Jim is delighted. Lottie is inscrutable.


Festive spirit is not Jim's strong suit.


Our stockings and half-assed mantel lights which I keep intending and neglecting to fix. Originally we were going to use all identical stockings, but Jim spotted the middle one and insisted on having the one with candy.


Jim admires the finished product.


His favorite ornament. He's already ripped a leg off once, but fortunately they go back on easily (unlike the glass balls, which he has smashed one of so far).

By request...

Since Mom wanted to know how enormous I'm looking these days, here you go, along with a couple other pictures I took while I had the camera in-hand.


32 weeks and 5 days. Excuse the messy mirror; Jim stands up there to wash his hands after dinner and likes to high-five his reflection.


Jim wonders why I'm pointing the camera at him when he's just trying to enjoy his cheese and apples. Note his size 18m jeans, which fit perfectly in the waist but come to about mid-shin. Long skinny toddlers are hard to buy clothes for, people.


Bruce does not understand why I am taking a picture of myself and not him.

Toddlers suck at deception.

Jim has lately taken to hiding behind the big yellow chair in the living room whenever he does something that he suspects is forbidden. Case in point from five minutes ago:

We're happily lounging on the couch when Jim gets a sudden gleam in his eye. He waits until I'm not looking, then stands up and shuffles over to the chair. I pretend to not notice as he peers around the corner to make sure I haven't spotted his treachery. Moments later, the rustling begins.

"Hey Jim," I say. "What're you doing back there?"

"Take off diaper!" replies Jim all cheerful-like.

The kid's practically George Washington. We oughta get him a cherry tree for Christmas. (And no, he didn't successfully get it off - the tabs are too sticky. He did manage to remove his footie pajamas, though, despite the snaps and zipper.)

Linguist-parent bragging.

Is it weird for me to be excited that Jim knows how to make plurals now? He knows the difference between 'one apple,' 'two apples,' 'one banana,' 'two bananas,' etc., and uses them correctly without prompting. He can also sort of count (well, 'one' means one and all other numbers translate to 'more-than-one'), but hey, I'm no mathematician, so I'm happier about the plurals.

To prove his accomplishments:



We tried the ABCs twice because sometimes he makes it to K before skipping to Q, but alas, no luck. And I did help him a little by holding up fingers to remind him of 4 (that's the tricky one for him), but otherwise, that was all Jim.