31 weeks

- I'd usually prefer to cut off the opposite part, and leave just the head.... seems ironic. (That weird line at the top is the top of my computer armoire... which casts a reflection-- hence the giraffe-look. Took me a second..)

- Once I hit 30 weeks, I felt like I was in the home stretch.... but now I already feel like I've run out of steam... forgot to pace myself... and just might wack one of these last hurdles with my knee and fall on my face like I did in high school. Less literally.

-If ONLY it were just 330 meters.... feels more like a marathon. Or like that crazy cross-country run that Forrest Gump did. No I would NOT know what that feels like. (The marathon I mean... the other is clearly too obvious to mention) I haven't joined that craze yet.

- But I want to after this baby comes. I think I need a competitive goal after it's all over. Not a marathon... but some real race. Maybe a fun one. Like a Ragnar.... is it just us Mormons or is it a new craze with everyone? I'm feeling nervous about this whole third-time thing. Like maybe things will never really go back where they started. I think a new goal might help.

- This photo? That's pretty much my uniform, I get in one of my black pairs of workout pants, and one of my long enough black tanks (I like other colors... but seem to only find them long enough in black???) every morning before the gym, and take my sweet time changing out of it. Finding something else... even just to wander the house, has proven to be EXTREMELY challenging. I really don't remember it being this bad with the last ones.

- People constantly ask me when I'm due and then act shocked that it's not sooner. It's great.

- Something positive? He moves like a crazy animal and I LOVE it. I see my belly jolting out of the corner of my eye all day long.... this is what I miss when it's over. I think it's amazing to feel this tiny person I'm going to love so INTENSELY, growing and moving around so cozy and safe inside my belly. Bonding with me. I love it.

- Not so positive: (some more, I should say) Are you ready? These last couple of nights have been the worst sleep ever, with:

-My usual crippling sciatic pain at the slightest movement.

-A very impatient bladder that unfortunately requires more than slight movement.

- Like a THOUSAND calf cramps that pull me out of sleep, with that confusing... do I stretch it or relax it.... I'm too tired to remember! battle going on in my head.

- Then of course I have a stupid cold that makes me feel like I'm drowning (gross I know, where you're swallowing all night long so you can still breathe.) And I'm scared because I remember feeling like once I got a cold when I was pregnant before.... my body could never kick it. Crossing fingers.

- Mixed with the results from getting the Pertussis vaccine the other day. She warned me that my arm would be pretty sore... I was thinking like a little bruise. I DIDN'T think it would make it so I couldn't sleep comfortably on my right side which is how I ALWAYS sleep right now so I can have my fan blowing right in my face. What's an overheated pregnant woman to do?

-Why didn't she offer to do it in my LEFT arm? So it wouldn't kill every time I lift it to pass a sippy back in the car or put dishes back in the cupboard, or brush my hair teeth? (who am I kidding... I don't brush my hair.)

- I'm aware that I don't use bullets right.... no consistency. Still- I think it's how my mind works these days. If it works. I've fixed SO many weird spelling/grammar or totally nonsensical mistakes just as I've written this. I'm sure you'll find more.

- I feel a little like Gloria from Modern Family... and English is my first language.

- That's misleading. English is my only language.

-Was that not the funniest episode ever? "Welcome to the Nay-ber-hoooood...." I can still hear her weird Americanized Latin voice and a laugh rises to my throat every time. "Who wants to live in a world where dogs eat dogs?!"

- Back to pregnancy--- you'll be happy you're still reading if you've made it this far... weight gain? dun dun dun----- 39 pounds. And I still have 8 weeks to go. I'm pretty sure my last pregnancies capped out at 40. I'm blaming the boy.

- I've got so much left to do--- I haven't bought him anything... I bought the paint for the room but that's as far as I've gotten. We've got a list of names, but are very noncommittal. And I'm realizing that weekends are filling up and with the holidays--- he's going to be here before we know it. Even if I do feel like my body might give up far before then.

- I can't wait. I know it's going to be hard and overwhelming--- and we'll be tired--- and I'll long for the days of huge firm belly when it's sloshing around afterwards (sorry for that visual-- particularly if you're a boy)--- but I still can't wait. I can't wait to be forced to ignore everything else when possible--- and just lay with him snuggled into me on the couch at night-- or watch him rise and fall on Ross' chest with his breathing. Or bring the girls home from school just to gather around and watch him be cute. I can't wait to see his face in the operating room (c-sections), and I can't wait 'till that same face REALLY focuses on my face for the first time a few weeks later. And then smiles.... and then smiles at his sisters.... and yet I know I'll want to freeze him right away and just watch his body arch into the C when he yawns for the rest of my life.

- I can't wait.