I'm on a roll...

It's really too bad that I'm knocked up in a major way, cause otherwise I'd be gambling in Vegas due to my winning streak lately. You see, it is really quite innocent... Bho's dad & I have participated in some friendly wagers as of late and I have to say that I'm on hot-streak or Bho's dad really sucks at weighing the odds.

The latest involved the assistance of our friendly childbirth class teacher. She delightfully explained that: "yes indeed, a woman's pelvic bone does adjust or shift during childbirth." Booya Craig - I told you so, I told you so! That boy thought he knew everything about anatomy, apparently. When I tried to explain that it seems evident that the pelvic bone has to shift a little to fit that melon sized nogan - he confidently bet me. Ummm, hello?! See below.

HA! Now, I wish I remembered what I bet him; I'll probably just settle the bet for a bowl of ice cream. I'm so easy.

Just a sidenote, childbirth classes suck - not only are they three hours long (almost as long as one of my law classes) but they involve sitting in a circle with about 20 other crazy couples. Seriously, some are C-r-A-Z-y! There was one woman frantically rubbing her belly the whole three hours like she was Buddha and expecting a wish to be granted. Another was disgustingly eating stinky Fritos and wiping her hands on the bottom of the chair, yuck. You should all feel so lucky that Bho's parents are normal.

Btw, later today or tomorrow I will post an awesome photo of the "shanty." For now, just know that the new paint job is looking fab!

Bits & pieces

This has been a busy, busy week. Not only do I owe huge props to Bho's dad for persuading me to stop watching garbage t.v. during the week and open my law books (as I'm not cramming for three classes - only one!). I also went shopping with Bho's grandmas for crib bedding at the fabric store. I must say that if I had any creative talent in my bones, I think I could go nuts in a fabric store buying beautiful toile, paisley, and antique-looking prints. I guess I'm thankful today in the money & time department that my own mother has no crafty talent that was passed my way. Instead, all of the "craftyness" will definitely spawn from the Dub family. Bho's dad has already hoped outloud for another lefty in the house.

What I do realize about my mother is that one of her truely amazing abilities is to be polite and befriend everyone, which means I'm desperately crossing my fingers that trait is passed down to Bho. If she doesn't get this from my mom, she ain't gonna get it from anyone else in this household (no offense Bho's dad, cause you can be polite & nice when you want... but not to the extent of my mother). So please, please, please may she get some of that sugary sweet Taylor/Eckert blood.

So, I'm off topic. The point is that I'm a busy girl. Even though, I'm a busy girl we have started purchasing items for our "happy monster" themed nursury. Just the other day we finally got our Uglydolls. Yay! This is the extent of my craftyness, a homemade mobile:

Yes, I know, I need an eyebrow wax. Please stop looking at me and notice my little Uglydoll mobile. These dolls are the cutest thing since the Boo was a puppy. Check out the close up:

Dang, so adorable!

I'm hoping that next week I can provide a final pic of the new house paint. I've got to say that it has taken our painters 4 days at about 35 hours of work to scrape only two full sides of our house. Let's hear a "THANK GOD we are not doing this ourselves, HALLELUJAH!" I know my dad is cringing right now thinking that he should be up on the forty foot ladder scrapping every last board to perfection to save us money but the peaceful look on Bho's dad is worth the cost of a professional painter.

WARNING: graphic details/photos

Boohoo, I have rH negative blood. This means that I have to be poked & prodded even more than a normally knocked-up chick. Let me explain...

At 8:30am this morning, I had to pull my pants down and bend over on a table for a nurse to pinch my butt and proceed with a needle of cold juices. Good morning, right?! It was awful and even though I have a pretty pink band-aid on my rear, it is super sore and feels like someone is constantly pinching my ass (not in a good, fun way though). I blame Bho's dad again.

However, even though I may blame Bho's dad quite often - I want to show that I am not the only one experiencing pain in the H-dub household.

*DISCLAIMER: I did not cause this shiner. It was purely from his own strength of the tennis racquet. Nice work dude!

One more thing, I took a shot of the paint sample on our house. Here it is, looking like we slapped it up on the wall without priming, sanding & scraping, or thoroughly covering the puke yellow color. This is a special post for "Anonymous" because of the caring comment they made about my favorite color green. Now, I leave you to analyze the hue of the below green and I'm sure you will let me know what it signifies. Are you a Psych major, by chance?!

Opinions? Suggestions?

Paint the house, register for Bho, OH! and go to law school...

This is the new drama in life.

Bho's dad & I trying to pick out colors to paint our house - so far, this is going to be the new color combo (on a fake, simulated home from Sherwin Williams):

Hopefully, these will be the colors. Although, it is missing the entrance of burnt orange as an accent/trim piece and the green is a bit too green - please picture more of an olive instead. I will also post a picture of our REAL house when it is done and pretty and looking glamourous. I'm very excited to get rid of the yellow/blue vomit colors.

Also, I've been asked to get moving on registering for Bho. I'd like to know how do you register for a Bho?! Seriously, it isn't like registering when getting married. I mean, how do I know what kind of bottles she will like? What kind of storage system will work best to keep the BooBoo from eating poop-filled diapers? Or at the least will keep the Boo from dragging them around the house?! How many swaddling or receiving blankets does a Bho need? Geez, I don't even know the difference between a swaddling and a receiving blanket. Bho is doomed. She will be swaddled in a bathrobe and have diapers wrapped around her head. I blame Bho's dad.

My departing thought, I feel it's fairly tacky to assume that what I pick out is what my Bho would enjoy most... I mean, those with their own B-experience probably knows best and I hope to trust their judgment for the most part. Although, this is daring to admit since Craig & I are the pickiest parents (haters of pink, purple, sparkly princess things) trying to design a modern, simple, and "happy monster-filled" baby room.

Any suggestions on registering?

P.S. If anyone wants to provide me helpful hints on mutuality of obligation, consideration, long-arm statutes and jurisdiction, feel free. I'll get on this chore of baby registry much more quickly once I get a hold of someone's first-year law school outlines. *Hint-hint to those of you silly enough to put yourself through law school.*

Coincidence? I think not...

I just realized that yesterday, LABOR DAY, marked the three month countdown to Bho's birthday... yes, three months from yesterday will our LABOR DAY.

Just thought I'd share.

Planning for the Future!

This whole Bho thing has really gotten Craig & I thinking lately. We've recently started planning for her future and I'm not talking about what she is going to wear home from the hospital or her nursery theme. Actually, I've started receiving reading materials about college saving programs such as 529s, high-school tennis camps all across the world, and now we can even plan for an arranged marriage! Yes, we heard some fabulous news yesterday...

Bwie's mom just found out that she is growing a penis inside of her! Isn't that great news, Bho?! It means you already have yourself a protector, a secret crush, and a best friend of the opposite sex. It means you can "na-naa-na-boo-boo" him when you kick his butt wrestling or when you ace him for the first time with your wicked tennis serve. It also means that we'll be having the private parts conversation, "why does Bwie have a wiener? why can Bwie pee in the backyard with the dogs and I can't?" Oh geez, Bwie's parents might have just made our job trickier if my vision of naked babies and dogs running around our backyards occurs as often as I imagine. Yikes.

Even though Bwie's parents were a bit shocked at first, I think it was all meant to be and it'll end up being a blessing (ahem, no blaming the sperm-providers - right Matty?). Most importantly, Bwie and his mom are in perfect health and everything looked spectacular, which is what matters most.

Got to run, I have a lot of planning to do for the big wedding... dum, dum, da-dum: Bwie + Bho!

An Ode to the Boo

Here is a photo tribute to the Boo. I owe an apology to my Indie. Last night, after returning from a mighty fine night with Bwie's parents - I came home to find my French chocolate bar fully wrapped and preserved under the stove.

I can only assume that Indie smelled the chocolate and instantly adopted her protective, motherly instincts by grabbing the candy bar off the counter and immediately putting it under the stove to prevent her mom from getting fat.

Thank you Indie for saving me the extra pounds. I owe you a kissy.

How coffee saves the lives of others around me...

One morning about two weeks ago, I woke up more tired than when I went to bed. True, it has happened many times before but this morning happened to be when I started law school. How was I supposed to get through eight hours of Legal Methods without any caffeine? Plus, the fact that I now weigh over 150lbs makes me a little depressed. If you don't already know, when I'm depressed, I like to lay on the sofa with the Boo and sleep... oh, and while I'm laying there sleeping I like to eat junk food. So, being that rational human being that I am - I realized by laying on the sofa and eating - this would not accomplish my goal of attaining a JD or staying under 162lbs fully pregnant. Therefore, I splurged - just for my first weekend of law school - I was allowing myself a medium, non-fat, iced latte. Ohhhh, drool.

This morning, the girl at the coffee shop had memorized my order of a medium, non-fat, iced latte. I'm guilty of returning to my caffeine addiction for more than the first weekend of law school. Don't worry, I've received permission from my doctor to drink one latte a day without any harm. My coworkers have thanked me for both the improved mood and increased productivity. Plus, I think Bho enjoys the additional jolt of energy while practicing diving in my belly. I think she might become a fantastic swimmer, call it a hunch. But besides being a swimming pro, I have a feeling she might be very accepting of others.

Someday in the following month when we've started collecting pieces to go with the theme of "nursery," I will post pictures. I'm happy to say that it will not involve porcelain dolls, clowns, or Barney... here is a tiny preview:

Oh, and my Indie Booboo ate another chocolate treat last night. What a little sh*t demon. It was the chocolate bar I had finally realized didn't make me nausous anymore. The one that I hand carried home from Paris back in March. The one that I opened and took ONE bite and left it wrapped in thick Euro paper and tinfoil on the kitchen counter. I sincerely hope she enjoyed the creme brulee milk chocolate delight because when that foil comes out in the backyard, it isn't going to feel very comfortable...

I'm positive! I'm feeling positive!

Well, we had another photoshoot this morning:

Per the Tech, everything looks fabulous (if you knew the details - my insides are now in their propper places) and Bho even threw us a little personality this morning - she stuck her tongue out in a sassy way for her parents. Somehow I don't think this will be the last time but I guess it's pretty adorable, like mother - like daughter.

Ohhh, yeah, the Tech also confirmed that she indeed is a she - all filled with suger and spice. Craig made a very funny joke that the sugar is all ice cream and the spice is from either hot&spicy potato chips or peppered pickles that I've been devouring. Maybe the sticking out of the tongue was a sign from Bho that she needs more variety? Hmmm, I'll just assume not...

Oh, one last thing - we babysat puppy Sadie this past weekend for the Williams. Indie practiced her sharing skills in preparation for Bho. I think the Boo made great progress.

What the heck?!

I think I'm addicted to negative posts... Or maybe it is just too much time spent reading Criminal Law textbooks? At any rate, check this out:

This is fairly strange but creative in a morbidly pessimistic view of the world. It starts as a happy, healthy home and detaches when the parents split. There are even "additions" to add on to each home for their new partners - how PC!

On a positive note, at least we're not leaving anyone out. Now, kids with divorced families can play out their nightmare with a dollhouse version of life. Strange, I don't see where the beloved puppy gets run over by a car? That must be a new release for next year...

This is how America got to be a fatty...

I'm scared... very, very scared. My worry is stemming from the fact that our children today have a preference and demand for McDonald's (fastfood in general, probably) rather than other foods such as ice cream, candy, and gum. I also have a feeling that kids today could repeat jingles or premises of commercials more rapidly than they could their abc's or 123's.

It is very troubling that in a new study, it was shown that our young kids are being brainwashed by a big scary clown, a.k.a Ronald, making them more likely to find any variety of food tasting better if labeled as produced by McDonald's. All I can say is ICK!
The picture below is totally appropriate:




Not to regress, but when I was growing up, it was considered a special treat (like I had just gone to the dentist or did something really outstanding - which I guess didn't happen as much as I thought, hmmmmm?) if my dad took me to McDonald's to get an ice cream cone. Although, sometimes my grandma would secretly buy me a happy meal (I've still kept it from the parents grandma, promise!) and even then I'd only care about the toy and not finish the hamburger or chicken nuggets.

Per the study, children aged 3 to 5 were choosing the McDonald's wrapped carrots (yes, carrots!) as tasting better than the plain wrapped carrots. How sad! Also, I think we need to discard of one of our two televisions in the house. The study found that the more tv's in the house, the more they preferred the McDonald's labeled foods.


Oh poor little Bho, you will NOT have a tv in your bedroom... but I have a feeling we'll have this discussion when you're old enough to beg. I just hope you're begging for a laptop and not a Whopper.

Overprotective family members, you know who you are...

There is a lot to be said about a close knit family especially when a new baby is brought into the mix... I mean, I can assume that my mom will answer the midnight phone calls when I'm stressed out and Bho won't eat, sleep, or shut up. I'm also assuming that my dad will take on the responsibility when we don't feel like paying a stranger to watch Bho during the day while I'm working hard for the money. Was that a subtle enough way of breaking the new nanny job to him?! Finally, I assume all other needs and desires will be fulfilled by Bho's other grandparents!

With those tiny details being clarified, I have to bring up my frustrations with being "over-protected" and throw out a small disclaimer to Bho.

I hereby swear to not only overprotect you, Bho -as I have endured for 29.5 years from my parents - but also affirm that your grandparents will do the same. As you grow older, you will come to appreciate this as a lack of commonsense on my part, quite suffocating and very irritating. However, you will also learn that it is fully out of my control. Please take refuge in the fact that we have supplied you with the cutest dog, Indie boo-boo, to help alleviate those worries; you should feel ever so lucky.

Because this is MY blog, I feel that I deserve to vent. Here are a few fairly reasonable assumptions I've made that thanks to my family are now frustrations.
-It seems logical to me that exercising, for example a pleasurable tennis match would be good for all pregnant women and fetuses alike.
-As is enjoying a nice dallop of frosting on an anniversary cake that I will only get once a year. I'd even stretch this logic to believing that a nice challenge, such as a law school endeavor, is good for the mental stability of any sane person. For those of you that do not understand why I'd be frustrated - talk to my parents, hubby, and friends/coworkers alike - they must supply the explanations because I have no clue.

Phew, with that being lifted off my shoulders - we can all relax and take a look at a few pictures of our awesome weekend in Lutsen. Just a forewarning to those who "overprotect the Jho," (this might be confusing for many, Jho = Jill plus last name abbreviation) I did exercise and I did get sweaty. Let this be proof that I'm alive and Bho is kicking after a long trek up Eagle Mountain to get to the highest point in MN. We're safe and I feel great that I got a bit more toned from all the climbing... God forbid I don't gain the same 100lbs that my mom gained from eating spagetti dinners every night, no offense mom. Love ya!

Notice the chosen photos don't include humans? Well, the photo credits must be given to Craigita for this trip. Evidently, it is known that pregnant women shouldn't control the camera (no offense Eyespy). I've chosen not to scare those few blogs readers with my lack of photogenic skills so I've ceased to post any of my glamour shots from our hikes. Now you have a chance to feel ever so lucky.

For the sap, sappy...

The first year is supposedly the most difficult year of marriage, right? That's what we're told. But dang, if this was our toughest... how much easier is it going to get? I do like a challenge, ya know? Although, not to brag or anything but everything between Craigita and I are pretty swell. I mean, we know our roles fairly well. Craig seems to fix things around the house slowly, while I consistently nag. Craig is always thoughtful, while I rant & rave about the small things. Craig is always paying compliments about how cute I am, while I b*tch about how fat I'm looking. By the way, as it appears below, Bho has been hungry lately. Yikes.

Seriously, though, with our one-year anniversary around the corner I can't help but wonder what is so difficult about the first year of marriage? Besides for the fact that Mother Nature is still proving this week is the hottest of the year and that makes Craig very crabby. Somewhere in my mind, I have a feeling that next year with law school and a Bho, it might be a bit more stressful. Something about baby poo sticking to the pages of my expensive legal books might be frustrating...

Here is to a honeymoon-year start to a marriage and many more to come!

Just a bit of reminscense of the hottest day of 2006 (one hint to a good marriage is to remember your wife looking like this... versus the photo above):

Hopefully, next year during our anniversary weekend when I'm helping my Ana Catalina get married (again, let me emphasize this is the hottest week of MN) I will fit back into my old size. Well, at least I will be able to enjoy the champagne... if I'm fat or not.

I learn, she learns...

If you know me, you know that I'm addicted to learning... or at least schooling. So much so that I'm beginning law school on August 3rd (yikes, we're down to 11 days and counting) part-time, law school, keep in mind. However, as I was reading a case study this afternoon while eating lunch - I felt more kicks and flips in the belly region than normal. That got me thinking, with all this legal learning I'll be experiencing in the next three months while Bho is at her most rapid development stages... will she be picking up legal terms and phrases from the womb? If I'm reading case studies and law books aloud to her during this final trimester, will she be the genius that I'm hoping for? Will her first word be certiorari?

Maybe it's not too far-fetched for me to start purchasing these?


Or maybe it is just the case that I should lay-off the fruit? I've already devoured one whole pineapple, a pint of blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries within two days. Perhaps, this is the cause for the extra kicks? Bho says, "mom, give me something that will stick to my skinny ribs already!" Damn Cub for having two-for-one coupons on fruit... I cannot resist!

Anyone recall...

My disgust for mainstream crib bedding found in Babies R' Us, Target, or any other boring local store? I mean, who wants to spend hundreds of dollars on this?

No offense meant to those parents who adore floral-fyed teddy bears and the fleshtone color peach. However, if I'm spending close to $500 on something new for the nursery why does it have to involve clutter and horrid colors?

In my opinion, all of this temporary bedding is terribly overpriced. However, when it comes to beautiful evidently designers don't limit themselves. I've found something that I'm terribly in love with but will NEVER purchase. I refused to spend this amount of money ($969) on a bedroom set for Craig and I, and we're adults, duh! Why would I spend it on a bumper, sheet, and blanket? But damn, it is beautiful... isn't it?


If anyone feels sorry for Bho and wants to donate this collection (by Serena and Lily; Wren) please let me know. I will be sure to set you up with my shipping address and you'll be the first one to get a thank-you card when Bho learns to read & write.

In the meantime, I'll be shopping at Walmart and perusing the Consignment Shops. If you have any great ideas of where I can find a drop-off site for barely-used rich-person crib bedding, write a comment. Ta-ta.

WARNING!

Pregnancy causes klutziness!

Seriously, I'm a fairly agile walker - I even play sports regularly. I don't usually just trip when walking around the house or fall down unexpectedly. UNTIL last night... when I turned around in the basement after loading the washer (with Indie's poop stained delight) I proceeded to stub my toe so hard on a cinderblock that Craig rushed me to the ER, not by my request mind you, which means it was gory.

*Graphic details* On the way to the ER, I decided to squeeze the puss out of the top "flap" of my toe so that my toe-guts were covered. This meant blood and pussy stuff squirted all over my toe and down my foot, it was quite the delightful site. Even with this limping bloody pregnant lady walking into the ER, we had to sit and wait for three hours until finally I was over it. I told the nurse that I wasn't waiting to go into UrgentCare (they recommended this because the wait was shorter than the typical ER) for something I could wrap up myself. The nurse requested that I write a mean comment to the hospital and Craig recommended we watch "Sicko" when we returned home.

But instead, I elevated and iced my foot like a good girl while watching the Twins lose their second game to the Tigers. COME ON Twins, sheesh! While Bho did flips in my belly the whole time while enjoying a little extra blood flow since my bottom extremities were elevated. This is the plight of a newly clumsy knocked up chick. Let the good times roll.

Skinny is in, right?

So, the first "baby" looking pics are now available of Bho. Okay, I'm totally lying. Bho doesn't look anything like a baby but rather more like a skeltor child. Here she is telling me that she will be a Berkeley Child (ummm, please note the peace sign):

Here is a cute one of her long, super-model legs... taking after mommy already, I see. Heehee.

Hopefully, she "cutens up" and gains a bit of weight. Although, I have a feeling with my addiction to ice cream (no, it's not a craving - I've always eaten a lot of ice cream) she'll be a little fatty.

Puppies, rainbows, and balloons...

How do you break big news? Do you just spill the beans? Or do you let the words linger off your tongue in suspense? Personally, for me, I like to just spill the beans.

Well, normally, that is...

This time around though, it really feels like a momentous event - like something that should involve tears of joy and a truely engaged audience. I mean, knowing if we have a mini-me or a mini-Craig might throw caution into our world. Either way, we'll have a little tennis playing, snowboard rider dude that loves dogs. Now, do I have your attention?

I sure hope so... because we found out that it weighs 12 oz and is about 10 inches long. It has ten fingers and ten toes. It has normal umbicial cord pressure, bladder, stomach, heartbeat (135 bpm - are you trying guess the sex from that? Ha.) and beautiful, long skinny legs already. Most importantly, it doesn't have a cleft palate and the brain looks to be on track re: development.

What better news could I give? I mean, a healthy baby should bring joy into everyones life, right? A couple of hints... I now have someone with whom I can share clothes when I'm out of style, a shopping compatriot, a forever family who will someday bear her own children, and a girl who can overcome all gender stereotypes. I'm amazed that Bho is a SHE! Yep, bring on the terrors of pink and purple and we'll still grow into that tomboy daughter I've always wanted.

Oh dang, this means we'll be footing the wedding bill.

Craig? You'd better start putting away big $ into your retirement... you know the story, here comes daddy's little girl. You'd better not let her down, my daddy hasn't yet.

Tight shirt = many comments

Yes, I should start buying maternity clothes. It's true, I've been too lazy and still wearing my tight shirts though I'm starting to feel a bit trailer with the "beer gut" just starting to stick out. In my fantasy world, I always thought I'd be the cute girl that only gains the basketball belly and stays active the rest of the pregnancy so my ass, thighs and arms looked fit and toned. HA! Just wait, you unpregnant chicks out there... you may have the same dream as I, but when you're exhausted after just sitting in a cubicle for eight hours only to come home to gobble down a bowl of cereal (the only thing not causing heartburn - see my list below) and take a nap for an hour... you will not have the energy to run five miles like you once did. Trust me my unpregnant friends, trust me.

Anyways, the first mention of Bho today was from a stranger at 730am on the elevator. She had a slight nervous look but committed with her, "when are you due?" comment. The rest of the women on the elevator "oooooh'd" and "aaaaaah'd" until I finally got off. Thank God I work on the 3rd floor. *Please no comments that I could take the stairs... the stairwell stinks like sewer and is on the opposite side of the building. Those are definitely unpregnant-friendly resources.*

Quite peculiarly, the next array of comments came at my ex-uncles (he was divorced from my aunt) wake tonight. My extended family felt the need to comment on my belly and guess how far along I am. I forgive them though because I guess someone else's weight gain is always a pleasant conversational distraction.

What lesson did I learn today? I will not be wearing that tight sweater until I'm back down to 130lbs because it will always remind of the day that I truly started "showing" and getting the "pregnant lady oogles." Only four months to go and counting...

Guilty puppy-dog eyes

Each morning, I have my routine as everyone does... but it seems that lately Bho has either made me extra slow, extra sleepy or just plain more sentimental than normal (you'll understand in a minute).

My thrilling mornings go a little like this: Craig gets up before me, wakes me up slowly with his loud getting-dressed noises (who knew looking this good was SO loud?) while I toss and turn and the Boo hogs the bed, I mean, snuggles the pillows. It seems that finally, Craig gives me a kissy and leaves. Normally, I fall asleep for about fifteen minutes while my alarm is blasting than frantically rush into the shower wishing I would have just gotten up when he woke me the first time. After I find some resemblance of professionalism, I usually fly around the kitchen putting together a lunch. I should have realized by now that my mom is damn smart (I don't need any comments from Bho's grandma on this one though). I always thought she was such a nerd or do-goodie by making lunches the night before but today I realize she either also had a hard time getting her butt out of bed or dragging me out of bed.

Well, my final but very important piece of the routine includes cuddling the Boo and giving her my goodbyes. Maybe this is why we have such a neurotic / needy dog? I'm not sure... but I do know that our dog gets majorly depressed when she knows we're leaving.
This morning was no exception. Not only did she give me that puppy-dog look, she refused to kiss me. I tried to hug her extra tight, I even put on minty chapstick, which she normally devours... I even told her that I'd stay home from work and play outside with her. No reaction, no perk, nothing. I left this morning with gut-rot, a pit in my belly that my depressed little Boo would be under the bed crying. However, as I walked down our front steps heading to the bus stop... I heard her sweet, whining bark and I turned like in a dramatic movie and saw her head in the front window shouting, "have a great day mom!"

OH, one more thing... all my coworkers in Sweden or in other fanciful Europeon destinations are off for the next month due to "summer holiday." My good mood just turned into raging jealousy. Maybe Bho is causing moodswings? Does that mean I have to admit to them though?