on nesting

So what happens when you are in the thirty sixth week of pregnancy and you're desperate to "nest," but you've pretty much eliminated your options for nesting. Keeping the gender a secret was fun for a while, but now I'm like HOLY CRAP I NEED TO SHOP. And I can't. And then there's the fact that we're not really at home so it's not like I can prepare the nursery. That is if I believed in nurseries.

That's right - I don't get the concept. For one thing - children do this thing called GROW. Which means that eventually they will not actually love the little choo choo trains on their walls, say when they take up a particular affinity for football. Or band. Plus, it's likely that this first child will share a room with the next, or the next will inherit the room. And then what? I have to rip down the trains and put up ballerinas? Um, no thanks. I'm actually the biggest fan of decorating, especially painting. One of the best sounds in the world is the roll of a properly saturated paint roller. Yum. But if it happened that I actually had an extra room to make into a nursery (we don't - Baby will be sharing space with the weight bench and the stationary bike), I'd probably go pretty neutral.

But I digress.

So I'm dying to nest and pretty much can't. So what do I do? Decorate the......blog. Sure, I could've waited to do this when Baby is here and it makes a little more sense, but since when do pregnant women do anything that makes sense? Plus, I hear that with the arrival of our little wailer, suddenly my "schedule" is going to be turned on its head, so blog redesign might not happen later.

So for those of you who are somewhat appalled by my feelings toward nurseries, pretend that my blog is a nursery. See? I really do care.

with this ring

So as it turns out, my blood pressure is looking a little on the high side. Now some of you may stress out at news like that. I, on the other hand, think to myself, "So there's a chance I get to be induced...EARLY? If you insist..."

So the doc sent me to get some blood work done to check and see if this high blood pressure is anything more than the simple desire to go into labor two weeks early. While the cute little gal was extracting my blood, she glanced at my left hand and said, "Your ring is gorgeous!"

I was tempted to simply thank her and pretend that I really did carry around a dozen carats on one finger. Instead, I told her to go to Wal Mart, where she too could get a wedding ring this beautiful for the cost saving value of $10.

My sisters in law took pity on my swelling fingers (I grew out of my wedding ring months ago) and snagged this for me. My father in law told Jess it makes an excellent template for something like a ten year anniversary gift.

I couldn't agree more.

slacker

So I've really become a slacker on the blogging front. The problem is, I only have a few things to say:

1. I'm really large. I mean seriously.
2. I'm huge. I mean seriously.

I walked into our bedroom at our apartment (which features very low ceilings) and Jess said, "You are a large woman." I feigned offense, but if we're being honest, my stomach enters a room long before I do. And the little tiny door frames do not mask the appearance of my hugeness.

I think the other problem is that when I'm not working, I'm either laying out by the pool (hard life, yes) or sleeping, thereby eliminating my blogging time. I can't nap enough. It's like the first trimester all over again, minus the pukes and the desire to eliminate food from my diet. I'm not sleeping well at night both because I have to visit the Ladies like 500 times (Jess used to be a light sleeper - he has since developed an amazing ability to sleep right through all my night time treks) and because I have recurring (read: chronic) gum pain. The good news is I think I might have figured out the issue - I have a massive sinus infection that takes root in my gums due to their already sensitive nature. The doc has me on an antibiotic, and that seems to be helping.

But in the middle of the night, I'm never alone either. It's nice to have my little friend kicking and rolling around while I'm sitting up (to keep the sinuses in my head from exploding), not sleeping. It makes me all too excited for when the baby is out, and we're not sleeping.

Seriously. I know it's not the same, but at this point I'd much rather be up with a hungry baby than trudging to the toilet for the tenth time in two hours. I've had a chat with Baby Cheney and we've decided that a few weeks early is the target.

SERIOUSLY.

weighing in

So is it a bad thing when you step on the scales at your 34 week appointment, and the nurse says:

"OH GOOD. You lost a pound."

I think I should've probably adopted this little-to-no-exercise physical fitness program much earlier in pregnancy.

And please pass the doughnut holes.

put your shovels away

In case you were wondering, the world actually is not coming to an end. With the previous Circus Animal cookie news, I know that the vast majority of you had started digging your bomb shelters out back.

But good news - you can put your shovels away.

CIRCUS ANIMAL COOKIES ARE BACK!

Seriously.

I've almost consumed one bag already.

It will be a very sad day when I can't blame this eating habit on my second person.

rock on

So I'm told that Jess' business sense kicked in when he was about six years old. You see, his dad (a dentist) had received a case of hard bristle toothbrushes, not what he'd ordered. When he called to ask where his soft bristle toothbrushes were, the company told him to keep the old ones and they'd send him the right order. So he took the rejects home. Mini entrepreneur Jess saw this box of toothbrushes and immediately saw dollar signs.

Unbeknownst to his parents, he took them door to door, selling them at a total profit, as he had basically pilfered them. When he realized just how easy it was to make a few bucks, he started his next venture: hand drawn pictures. By Jess Cheney. These too apparently went over like gangbusters so he began what is considered the crowning achievement of his business sense: selling rocks.

He went door to door, selling rocks he had "collected." It was at this point that a neighbor mentioned to his parents that perhaps his "business sense" needed a little guidance.

Years later, however, the little rock hunter still lives on. When we're out hiking, he often picks up rocks and puts them in his pockets, likely because they belong in his "collection," one that has long since gone the way of the earth but which remains in his mind. Whenever we visit Washington D.C., we must stop at the Natural History Museum, which always includes a lengthy tour of the mineral exhibits. Customarily I find the few I like (the poop rock, the pretty green rock, the spiky rock, the taller than me rock), then sit down and wait while he continues. He even takes photos. Of rocks in a display case.

The other day, when Jess went hiking with his sister Kim (I'm only allowed in the swimming pool for physical fitness, doctor's orders, to keep my pelvis from shifting again), he began seeing rocks again. He came home and did some Googling, during which he discovered that just a few hours away he could find and take home (without breaking the law) some geodes. Yes, geodes.

After some convincing, he recruited a few brothers, and they headed out on their adventure, complete with rock hunting gear: shovels, hammers, and buckets. And the little boy with his rock collection was more than a little bit happy when he came home covered in dirt, these pretty sparklers in hand. The above photo is the first he came across, the one he brought home for me. He busted it open with a hammer to see if they'd found their treasure. When they realized that they'd actually found what they were looking for (they spent some time shuffling through duds), and that hammers don't exactly make clean cuts, they filled a bucket, brought them home, and used a wet saw to cut them nice and pretty.

Currently, the rock hunter is trying to devise a way to polish the rocks without paying several hundred dollars for the sander that Google recommends. :)

what i'm loving

Glee (on Fox)

I can't help it. I've been watching American Idol through this entire season (don't ask me why), and they've been advertising this show throughout. So last night, my sisters in law and I sat down to check it out. We pretty much got hooked. I even spent $1 of my $2 monthly iTunes budget on the theme song. Hooked. Makes we want to go back to high school all over again. Okay, not really. But I'm well on my way anyhow - I've surpassed my high school weight BY FAR already, with eight weeks to go...

Them Smackers

So when Jess and I were dating, my sisters were quick to point out that our children were doomed when it came to the lip department. As this picture

demonstrates, we both have ample bottom lips with virtually non existent top lips. (Also, don't worry that our noses match, although mine is currently retaining any and all liquid that enters my body and expanding with the rest of my face.) So when I got Baby's ultrasound here with the Salt Lake doctor, I must say I was more than pleased to see our little Cheney puckering up. Check those smackers out!

If it's a girl (we still don't know!), we're considering naming her Angelina.

Air Conditioning

Oh. My.

This is going to be a long summer.

picking my poison

So there are many reasons to love Utah. Among them are my husband (he drove out a week before I flew out, leaving me incredibly lonely in a very pathetic pregnant way), the mountains with little bits of snow frosting their peaks, family at every turn to help the (quickly becoming) invalid pregnant woman, perfect temperatures totally devoid of that slick humidity that I just can't grow accustomed to, and Cafe Rio, just to name a few.

But I'm pretty sure that this is among the top ten reasons I'm most happy to be here:

Tastes just as good as the real thing folks. Seriously. In fact, it tastes so good that I can almost forget about the fact that my pinched nerve situation has driven me almost to the point of insanity.

If you were wondering, the pain I've experienced as of late has been, at times, so excruciating that I've pretty much determined an epidural is in my future.

In fact, I wish I could have one right now.

pain in the butt

So I've recently acquired a major pain in the butt. And I'm not speaking figuratively here. My only explanation is that the baby has found a really comfy nerve to wedge its foot into, which is thereby creating a pinching sensation in my rear quarters.

Also, my circulation is doing really awesome. After about a half hour of exercising on the elliptical (and actually the aforementioned problem doesn't bother me during exercise, which further causes me to blame a pinched nerve rather than muscle strain), my toes become numb and tingly. I have to stop and give my tootsies a few shakes to get the blood flowing again. If I talk on the phone with my arm bent for more than five minutes, my hand goes numb. This has resulted in acrobatic, frequent hand switches while using the phone in order to allow all fingers sufficient blood flow.

Sometimes I forget that I have several DOZEN extra pounds settling IN MY PELVIS. And then my butt screams or my appendages go numb, and I'm like

oh yeah.

swine cough?

1. So I went ahead and got myself another cold. I thought I might as well. I mean, when else is my immune system going to be this awesome? Except, of course, during my next six (if Jess had his way) pregnancies (which he won't). And it wasn't too bad, but I have to say that this smoker's cough I've developed is less than awesome. I sound like I'm dying. And even though I haven't been kissing pigs (recently), you can tell that people are really worried when they hear my cough.

It's like you can see their brains flipping through the pages of CNN.com: "Dry hack, dry hack. Was that a symptom of the swine flu? She doesn't look like she's going to puke. Hmmmm."

2. For the record, I've been going through bottles of hand sanitizer. So even though the nursery kids gave me the cold, I'm not passing it back. At least to the best of my swollen hands' knowledge.

3. So we're rounding the bend of thirty weeks. I HEART THIRTY WEEKS. But I just want to let you all know that I do have a heater strapped to my girth. And when the husband takes one's car (that has a/c) and leaves one with his car (that doesn't have a/c), life suddenly becomes quite tragic. I had flashbacks of Hong Kong this morning, that life threatening deluge of sweat just forming a nice sheen over the whole of my person.

Jess happened to call as I exited the car. I told him he'd have to call back after I recovered from the heat stroke I was currently coming out of.

4. I went to my cafeteria at work today to see if they had any fun lunch items. As I've said before, food is generally unappealing these days, so I'm always prowling for something yummy. Lately, I've been eating lots of Lean Pockets. (Gross? Yes.) So I wandered around and was about to leave empty handed when I saw what I'd obviously come down for. M&M cookies. Is it wrong that I ate M&M cookies for lunch?

5. Yesterday, Jess had his arm resting on my belly. When the baby nigh unto kicked his arm off, Jess asked if I had indigestion.

"Yup. That was quite the burger I just ate."