Dear Baby In My Uterus,

Even though we haven’t formally met yet, I already love you more than I can say and I’m sure you can feel that. I can’t wait to meet you sometime between today and five weeks from now.

That said, I have to say one thing. Unless you’re actually on your way down the birth canal and out into this crazy world, for the love of GOD please stop bouncing your big head repeatedly against my cervix. Please. I can’t take it anymore.

Thank you for your co-operation.

Love,
Mommy

I was so scared when I woke up this morning because something was really wrong outside.

Then I realized it was just the sun shining in the sky.

Thank god, because for a second, after all the dark, grey, rainy skies over the past week and a half, that much brightness made me think maybe something was on fire out there. I don’t even care that it’s only 2 degrees. It’s sunny!

The house is gone. It was demolished yesterday. It was built in a time where they took a damn long time to build a house so that it was strong and done right. It took them one hour to rip it all down.

I don’t know whether I feel like crying or throwing up or alternating between both.

When are people going to realize that women do not have breasts so that they can work at Hooters, sell cars, or market beer? When are they going to realize that women have breasts primarily so that they can attempt to feed and sustain their children? It’s what they’re THERE for, and yet people still freak out at the thought of them being used for their natural purpose, causing hysteria like a news magazine pulling breastfeeding cover and firing the editor.

Why is it that we can’t have a magazine with something as natural as breastfeeding on the front but it’s perfectly okay to display entertainment magazines with celebrities flaunting their surgery-enhanced cleavage in extremely low-cut clothes? I can see beer commercials on television with busty women skipping around with beer bottles but a magazine with a breastfeeding cover (for Breastfeeding Week, by the way) is offensive?

I am so disgusted.

Augh! I feel like someone has their upper body wedged inside my pelvis!

Oh. Wait. That’s exactly what that is!

The baby is dropping. Not dramatically and I still have trouble catching my breath when I first lie down but I can see it in the mirror a little.

Happy birthday George!

Since I have absolutely nothing else to talk about at this moment, I updated the media log with the last two movies we watched.

I’m quite the arachnaphobe, so I’m not sure what I was thinking when I helped Hayley make this fairly creepy spider craft. We had done some Halloween paper crafts (pumpkin, cat, ghost) and I was inspired, but this thing really freaks me out.

Click to enlarge:

It took almost no time or effort. It’s one ankle height nylon trimmed to size and knotted at one end, with two styrofoam balls inside for the body shape (though you could just stuff it with tissue paper whatever). Then we wrapped black and purple pipe cleaners around the middle for the legs, dabbed a bit of silvery-grey nail polish on for eyes, and attached a piece of thread to the knotted end for a bit of spider web.

Yuck.

New entry up in the journal. No, I don’t have anything better to do on a Friday night, why?

Hayley loves “Toy Story”. Actually she loves both movies. And she just got a Buzz Lightyear action figure as a belated birthday gift. Like most toys these days, this one comes with batteries and it talks and has the little laser on the arm like the Buzz in the movies. It’s kind of annoying just because there’s no off switch or even a volume setting, so I always worry that she’ll roll over on it and set it off in the middle of the night, waking up the entire world, but she loves it so I tolerate it.

The thing is, he’s more than an action figure. He’s a “room guard”. You can play with him normally and when you press different buttons he says different phrases (I particularly like when he says, “Let’s go on a space adventure!” because Hayley almost always responds with, “No thank you, Buzz.”). However, if you push any button twice in quick succession, he’s activated as the room guard, which is kind of like having a little Buzz Lightyear security alarm. I always thought that the alarm was only set off if you pushed a button without de-activating the guard setting. I had no idea that he apparently has a tiny motion sensor.

So imagine how startled I was when I walked into the bedroom before, passed within close proximity of little Mr. Lightyear, and he suddenly shouted, “STOP! You don’t have security clearance! Please leave this sector at once! BEEP BEEP BEEP!”

I came incredibly close to peeing my pants.