No pushing Bho off the diving board!

This both creeps me out and makes me teary-eyed.

This only confirms the fact that Bho will be a swimmer from day one. Okay, probably day 60 or 70, but for realz, watch this video and you'll understand why...

Love connection!

Nothing like an entertaining pregnant-girl photo shoot with a naked "Mother and Child" by Gustav Klimt in the background.

Belly touching belly = love connection for Bho & Bwi.

Check, Check, four more to go

Okay, I'm working hard on checking off items from my countdown (see Oct 15th). The first two are done, four more to go...

Here is proof of #1: the thrilling baby shower. If you weren't there, you missed the spiked punch, strippers, and free money.

As a cover, Bho's granny took a few pics of the more innocent moments. If you want to see the "real action," shoot me a message and I'll forward you the other pics. *wink, wink*

Bho's first swimsuit. I imagine her posing like Cindy Crawford in this one...

Quilting action. If you notice, Shannon next to me had just finished doing about 5 shots and the limbo, so she was taking a break.

Here is proof of #2: baby classes are over! As you can see below, I look more intelligent (I know how to deliver a baby effortlessly, how NOT to shake a baby, and how to install about 50 varieties of carseats). Ohhhh, this picture also shows that I'm close to fulfilling the ever-important #5: producing Bho for the good of the world.

Damn, I'm getting to be a biggy while poor lil Bho looks to have a pinhead causing my belly to stick straight out. Better start preparing your lies, "ooooh, Bho is so errr, umm, unique" and "ooooh, she looks so smart."

Prediction: Hardcore Feminist Bho!

Is it because I know Bho is a girl that I've been "overly feminist" lately (whatever that means...)? Or is it because I'm selfish and feel the need to be treated equally? I'm guessing my parents would probably say it's the latter (newsflash: I am selfish). Hmmmm, but let's not go there - it really doesn't matter.

What does matter is that my little Bho has the chance to do whatever the hell she wants when she grows up. This has been of concern to me lately. If Bho ends up dating boys, she does not have to be stuck doing the laundry or vacuuming because Bwi, or any other similarly aged B's, is too busy watching a game or staying late at work "bringing home the bacon." When a home improvement project is needed like installing a ceiling fan, it'd be nice if she was capable of throwing it up in her spare time. Of course, after she gets back from winning Wimbledon, doctoring children in Africa, and walking down the catwalk in Paris.

Today, as I was perusing The Consumerist, I saw this article about a new spin-off of Home Depot called Her Depot. To me, this is the ultimate embarrassment. Why-oh-why, do we need a specific home improvement store geared towards women? Do they feel it that Home Depot stores are too "manly" or "construction-oriented?" Do women really find it difficult to pick out a nail size or light fixture without drinking an espresso or surrounded by floral-papered walls?

Image by Dean Terry.

I'm sorry, but who thought of this? If a lone female in Home Depot's Corporate Headquarters is getting rich off of an idea to put fabric softener and detergent next to the washing machines/dryers in this store... good for her, but our society is doomed. What a waste.

Personally, I like to feel dirty. I like to help with construction projects. I actually like to garden (not sissy gardening either, I like to dig holes and plant things). Bottomline, I like Menards. Although, as I write their name - it makes me think.

One more thought for the day.

I bought super cool warty pumpkins, squash, etc. for our front porch (I mean, for our neighbors to steal). I'm in love with our house now. Please note how awesome the new railing looks! Thanks to Bho's daddy & grandpa.

Let the countdown begin!

You all probably thought I meant the countdown to Bho, huh? Well, I'm actually talking about a few very important countdowns:

1. the baby shower, 5 days & counting (t-th-thr-thrilling)
2. the final birthing class, next Monday evening (we're delivering the placenta tonight folks)
3. end of classes, four weeks (law school)
4. End of Quarter (last week of November) at work, usually high stress, late nights
5. DUE DATE = BHO! (December 1st - 3rd; but I say November 27th)
6. final exams, 1st week of December (ha!!)

First, the baby shower: I hate the thought of family and close friends staring at me while opening gifts, eating food (I plan to save that tiny bit of room for cake actually), and playing a rousing baby-themed game during my "fatty stage." Don't get me wrong, I'm plenty thankful to have a great family & group of friends... and to get together and appreciate their thrill & kindness re: the plan that Craig & I are having a Bho. However, the timing is just not my preference.

Second, birthing classes. Okay, we learned that my pelvic bone moves, that I will try to squat during delivery, and I am keeping an open mind re: epidural/drugs (I'm against drugs - I learned that from my parents and DARE). You know, a handknit uterus and birthing canal is cool... but did we really have to spend five weeks together for three hours a pop?

Third, my law classes end on November 18th. Although, I do have a make-up class on December 2nd. Hmmm, being that they moved the due date from December 3rd to December 1st - I'm not sure I'll make that class. Hope the prof. doesn't mind my missing class in order to avoid going into labor during a discussion of the Erie Doctrine.

Fourth, end of quarter/last day of November is just plain old poor timing in the scheme of Jho's life. Being that I cannot convince my company or the B.O.D to delay their earnings/GAAP reporting, it seems I might be missing out on the busiest week of the quarter. I just hope that if I do come in to lend a hand - my coworkers are ready to follow my orders of "drive fast, drive fast, drive fast to St. John's hospital."

Five, Bho. Yes, that's inevitable.

Lastly, finals. I'm not sure when I'll get them done or how... but knowing me, I WILL DO IT! At least that is what I've been telling myself over & over again.

So, these are my major event countdowns for the coming month & a half (maybe longer, depending upon those finals & Bho's imposition). Ohhh, and poor Craig is just counting down to the first snow so he can make a few snowboarding trips. As you can tell, that just isn't on my list of priorities. Go figure.

My house rocks!

Yo dudes,

Thanks for the comments! I feel much happier now, which is a good thing for a pregnant chick. Although, I am a little offended that many of you think I look the same as I did before I gained 20 lbs. Hmph!

Okay, dum-dum-dum... here is the "new - old" house! Looking fabulous, eh? Bho's dad & grandpa actually tore off the front porch railing and are building a brand new one. Yay, my boys rule! Bho's dad is also going to be adding a third, burnt-orangish color next Spring probably - just adding to the charm, I'm sure.

Not only did we get the house painted - we bought a crib for the Bho! Yes, she might be sleeping on a mattress and not on the floor with the Boo! However, the next problem is that it takes 6-8 weeks for delivery. Whoops.

It seems that our picky nature has caused a slight issue being that it is now less than 8 weeks until the big due date of 12/03. OH, and she is totally coming sooner, btw. I'll start taking bets on when we think she'll arrive... I'm pulling for a turkey baby. How cool would that be? Maybe we'll have to find a newborn sized pilgrim hat and buckle-shoes?

Bottomline, we're hoping that they build and ship the crib a few days sooner. But no worries though, Bho's dad is really good at putting stuff together quickly and carefully.

If you comment, I will listen

Here is proof suckers. If you read this crappy blog, you should comment or I get too lazy to write. Thank you Tiffy. May your request be granted, here is me as a pale whale.


Oh, and here is the new look for the West Side of St. Paul - looks like Halloween 24/7. Yo, yo, represent.

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.