This morning we took advantage of the cool(er) temperatures (meaning that it was bearable, although still hot enough that I could have wrung my clothes out afterward) and headed to the Gardens. We spent two hours wandering according to Liam’s druthers (which surprisingly did not include any time in the flower fountain, despite my intricate preparations for just such an occasion). Here are some pictures from the morning:
This was my view of Liam for most of the morning:
Contemplating a swim:
“That’s very clever Epicurus, but what I really want to know is how to work this thing…”
“Reading” me the sign:
Favorite manhole cover:
“Reading” me the recipe:
During a brief respite from all the running I got the chance to take my favorite series of pictures from the day. I’ll let them speak for themselves.
And, he’s off (again)!
Reading with Mr. Froggie:
Intently checking out the dew-covered spider webs:
Hanging out in Peter Rabbit’s den:
Strengthening his core:
“You comin’ Mama?”
I never did figure out what was happening here:
And then it was time for a nap, for both of us.
On Sunday Liam and Matt took advantage of our designated water-use day and washed the cars. It was hard to get good pictures because Liam’s propensity to sling, spray, or splash water my (and the camera’s) way kept me a bit further from the action. Here are a few of the shots I got:
Reporting for duty:
Approximately two seconds after spying the sprayer:
Matt realizes that an immediate tactical change is necessary:
Liam happily shows off his sprayer skills:
Properly preparing his instrument:
Time for a rinse-off:
Thoroughly enjoying his rinse-off:
Our little leprechaun:
He’s definitely our pot of gold:
Moving on to work on the van (and losing his britches in the process):
The lovers, the dreamers, and Liam:
After the inevitable demise of his shorts:
After the inevitable demise of his clothes:
It was great fun and reminded us just how happy we are to be out of the drought!
Today we went to Gran and Granddaddy’s house to celebrate Granddaddy’s 62nd and Greatdaddy’s 85th birthdays. Here are some pictures from the afternoon:
Liam reads a book about his favorite subject:
Rocking with Courderoy:
“Helping” Greatdaddy with the present opening:
Granddaddy just thinks he’s going to get a look at his present…
Birdbooking with Greatdaddy:
“Hey Liam, do you know what that is?”
I’m honestly not sure what was happening here, but it was definitely a keeper:
Off to pick Gran’s blueberries:
Pay no attention to the woman behind the bush…
Today marks the beginning of the 28th week and the 3rd trimester. Pants are quickly becoming the enemy. There’s not much new to report since last week except that I’ve had 2 nights of sleep that consisted of 7 & 8 continuous hours of sleep. I feel just a bit more human when this happens. Unfortunately this time I had to have a 2-day headache before getting the first night of this much-needed sleep, but I’m hoping that the sleep will continue and it will keep the headaches at bay. Not being able to take Advil is truly cruel and unusual punishment. I’ve also continued with the compulsive baking. The good news is that I’ve found a lot of good new recipes, the bad news is that Matt’s coworkers are probably starting to resent me for sending all the calories their way…
On with the pictures!
Here are the 28-week pictures from my pregnancy with Liam (It looks like there were no tears this week, but other than that I don’t see too much difference from the previous week. The comparison of bare belly shots really shows how differently I’m carrying this time.):
Here are the pictures from week 28 with Baby Girl (I’m beginning to get worried that the out-front nature of the belly this time is going to make it hard to cover with anything but a dress by the end…):
Pregnancy is a lesson in humility for me.
Some women walk around having gained 20 pounds at 40 weeks. They look like stick figures with watermelons under their shirts. These are the women that can surprise you from behind, because you can’t tell that they’re pregnant until they’re in profile. These women don’t have stretch marks, varicose veins, or big behinds. Their faces are never puffy and they always have the energy to put on makeup and do a little something with their hair (which probably looks perfect straight out of the shower). Their houses are spotless and dinner is on the table at 5:30 each night.
I am not any of these women.
I know that I will never fit the image of the cute pregnant woman. I have stretch marks (both old and new), varicose veins, and a big behind. My face is always puffy and I don’t remember the last time I put on makeup for an everyday activity (the answer to this is probably ‘never’). My house is a mess and I was overly excited last night to have started a simple dish for dinner at 4:30 and finished it by the time Matt came home at 6:30, because it is exceedingly rare for me to have finished dinner by the time Matt gets home.
But last night? Last night I discovered that I have cellulite on my shoulders. You read that right: CELLULITE ON MY SHOULDERS. How does one get cellulite on their shoulders, you might ask? I haven’t the foggiest notion, but I do know that those women with the watermelon bellies, slender faces, and unchanged behinds can bite me.
Father’s Day celebrations have been the order of the day. We started out the day by getting up early to go to The Southern Skillet to get a big country breakfast. Unfortunately it apparently closed for business sometime during the last week. Matt was disappointed, but luckily for him the back-up plan of Dunkin’ Donuts was easy to execute since the two are in the same shopping center. After breakfast it was present time. Baby Girl gave Daddy some See’s chocolates. Liam gave Daddy some photo albums and a footprint stepping stone. I’m afraid that this tradition won’t last past Liam’s 5th birthday at this rate, because there won’t be room for his feet!
After present time was over, Liam and Matt re-inflated the big soccer ball and kicked it around with each other for a while in the backyard.
After playing for a while with the only full-sized ball we have in the house (that has an audible air leak and has for quite some time) we headed to the sporting goods store to pick up a new ball. Liam was a maniac and spent the whole time sprinting through the store picking up balls of various ilks, playing with them for a few seconds, and then moving on to the next type.
After lunch, Liam and I took naps while Matt headed to Decatur to see Pop and watch soccer. Gran and Granddaddy came to pick us up and take us to Smyrna where we picked blueberries and ate dinner.
Here’s Liam after we told him we were going to pick blueberries (which for him is something akin to finding out that money really does grow on trees):
Let the picking begin!
He got the hang of it pretty quickly and now we have about a pint of blueberries to show for it!
Showing off his spoils:
Father’s Day hug for Greatdaddy:
Waiting (semi) patiently for dinner:
Preparing himself for Mama’s first (homemade) carrot cake:
And now it’s time for everyone to get some sleep.
Today marks the beginning of week 27. Today I gave up my rings. This week has consisted of a continual beating down of any hopes I had to look/feel like a normal human being by the end of this journey. I have varicose veins on my ribcage. I think that says it all. I feel certain that over the next 13 weeks we will all have the chance to gawk at the elephant that used to be Shannon, but at this point, I’m over it. I cannot safely eat any less than I am. If I want Baked Ruffles with my veggie sandwich at lunch, I’m through beating myself up about it. My body is telling me that I need somewhere in the neighborhood of 7 or 8 32oz. Nalgene bottles of water each day (and I won’t be a bit surprised if that number rises as I keep going — by the end of my pregnancy with Liam I was up to 10 per day). There’s no way I’m eliminating that amount of fluid by going the pee route, so it’s just starting to fill my cells and poise itself for being the partial cause of tremendous stretch marks and (apparently) varicose veins. I’ve still got three months, people. This ain’t gonna be pretty. Let’s get this show on the road.
Here I am at 27 weeks in my pregnancy with Liam (This is the best shot of about 8, which says something. It’s clear to me that I had been crying prior to taking the picture. The acne was flaring up, the face was swollen, the situation was getting very uncomfortable, and it shows. It’s pictures like this one and those to come that remind me just how much I love being a mom. I’d have to to be voluntarily (and wholeheartedly) going on this journey again.):
Here I am at 27 weeks in this pregnancy with Baby Girl (Why must I subject you to a bare belly shot when there’s no comparison shot from last time? Apparently I have no shame. That’s all I’ve got.):
That’s all, folks.
I think we’ve had this conversation before, but due to recent events it bears repeating. If you’re going to continue eating pints of blueberries followed by handfuls of cherries and chased down with hummus by the spoonful, I’m going to have to ask you to do your business in the toilet from here on out.
Pretty much every time I’ve gone to the Publix with Liam in tow the bagger offers to take my groceries out to my car for me. Also pretty much every time, I refuse because I don’t want to be the reason that the elderly woman behind me in line didn’t have someone available to help her to her car. Since becoming obviously pregnant, I have noticed the following things:
1: The baggers don’t even ask me anymore if I want/need help. They just do it.
2: I’m so tired and it’s so hot outside that I wouldn’t refuse them if they did ask.
At this point I’m having daydreams where I take the bagger home with me to help unload the car and put everything away. The question is: Is it still considered abduction if I tip well and return the bagger to the store when he/she is finished?
I have read a large number of children’s books to Liam, and I am critical of a number of them. Here are my complaints:
Retellings of the original story are popular ideas, even more popular than the original. There should be a warning labels for these kinds of books, like “The Wolf Who Cried Boy” or a book about the 3 pigs where they break the 4th wall. Liam doesn’t know the original story yet, people!
When writing dialog, do not have lines from different characters back to back without identifying the speaker. Also, keep it simple. “Frog says, ‘hello'” is 1000 times better than “‘hello,’ wept Frog.” Don’t make me do voices just because you can’t write good dialog.
Please don’t have bad behavior unless the one acting badly is immediately eaten or bitten by fleas.
No French phrases, thank you very much.
Always have a “The End” page.