Shocking News: Brittney And I Have Same Outfit.

I just got back from vacation and have oh, so much to talk about. However, I was just perusing Pink Is the New Blog, when I saw a photo of Brit-Brit wearing an outfit that I own. There are four potential scenarios:

1. She read my blog and took my advice
2. She is shaping up on her own
3. I'm going downhill and fast
4. Dumb luck for her that she dresses as well as I

I would show you the outfit, but it's the same outfit I choose to wear at my baby shower - so it must stay hidden until the big reveal. I mean, I choose this oufit for a special day, and now, Brittney has somehow sullied it and made it 'country'. I WAS just on vacation that was primarily outside, with outhouses and stuff - do you think that maybe I turned 'country'? No, that couldn't be. But what if?

I'm outta here - gotta go shopping.

Boys: I Love Em!

Okay, I have to admit, or maybe I did already, so I'll restate - I don't exactly know what to do with a boy. When I think of little girls, I know exactly what activities they will like and the things we'll talk about- you know, I want to grow up to be a ballerina or singer or hairdresser (that was me for a minute). With a boy, I have limited vision of our future. What is the minimum amount of sporting events I can attend, while still being an attentive, encouraging & loving mother?

This weekend, I had a vision of my future and I liked what I saw. I stayed at my cousin Mark's house and he has two boys: Max & Sam. After only two full days with the kids, I can't wait to have boys.

These kids are great!!! They are funny and outgoing, love baseball and their mom! They do fun activities like biking and swimming and the little one just likes to run. They smile all the time and are just a delight to be around. I would be unbelievably lucky to have kids like them.

As their mom Michele says: It's all due to sleep training! (another blog forthcoming).

Family Matters.

I'm in LA for my Uncle's wedding, and this will be the first time I see my extended family since being pregnant. I'm really excited to see them, especially my Grandma, who hasn't seen my belly yet. Funny thing is, I'm excited, but kind of shy, all at once. And I never feel shy!

I guess, since I don't see my family that often, they think of me as a kid. When I travel to LA for business, I get the distinct impression they can hardly believe I am there, alone, without a chaperone. How did I get to LA from NYC without a note pinned to my jacket with delivery instructions!?

Getting married broke that image a bit, but being pregnant, and a legitimate pregnancy at that (I'm no spring chicken) should shatter it. And do I want it shattered?? No way! I love being the funny, kooky kid they know, and now, suddenly, I'm going to be a responsible adult. Just how and when did that happen?

More Thoughts On Poop

Changing diapers is something that Chris and I dread. We're going to try to be like those crazy parents that potty train their kids at 6 months. Yeah, yeah, I can hear all the parents out there saying, but when it's your kid, you don't mind the poop. You get used to it.

To hell with that! I will never get used to it! I wish I were rich enough to hire someone whose sole responsibility is to pick up my kids poop, and ensure that I am never, ever exposed to it. Why oh, why did I marry for love!

Like I Need An Excuse to Sing.

They say singing to a baby helps their brain development. Some people may think this is a silly notion, but for me, I bought in hook, line and sinker. Let me paint you a picture of my morning...

I wake up, coffee, cheerios, paper, etc. etc. etc. Then, and most importanly, I hop on computer, start itunes, (80's mix or broadway) and then systematically play song after song, while simultaneously pulling up lyrics so I don't botch the words. This morning's musical foray included: Thompson Twins, 'Hold Me Now', Howard Jones, 'No One is to Blame', Yaz, 'Only You' and Cheap Trick, "The Flame". I'm just glad I finally have a solid excuse to sing like a lunatic.

He's Kicking!

Hayden is squirming, moving, bumping and thumping. And I love every second of it! I can feel him when he stretches out his legs and when he gives a big kick. Chris can experience it as well because we can feel him kick from the outside too. Honestly, it's amazing and it reassures me, knowing that he's progressing and growing.

This kicking has made me fall madly and deeply in love with this kid. I think it was a combo of
1) finding a place for him to live
2) buying cool onesies
3) feeling him kick
It made this pregnancy-thing very real and exciting and I can't wait to meet him!

VH1's Flavor Of Poo

Fine, the show Flavor of Love on VH1 has nothing to do with babies. But it does have to do with poop, which I'll be knee-deep in for several years after this kid arrives, so I think I can find a tie-in.

Have you seen the first episode of Flavor of Love? Have you? If not, you must. YOU MUST. And please, don't play hoity-toity, I'm too good for Flavor of Love. Here's the deal: during the rose ceremony type-moment, one of flavor's girls slinked off, up the stairs, (white stairs no less) and went to the ladies room, where poop is supposed to be deposited. However, on the way up the stairs, she pooped. Let me repeat: on the way up the stairs she pooped.....! ON THE STAIRS. It fell out of her dress, and landed on the white stairs. Check out clip: http://youtube.com/watch?v=EK1VeNVIO-8 I can't even DEAL!

Belly Button Update: Still An Innie!

What's the deal with my belly button? It's still an innie! I hit 6 months today and I really thought I'd have an outie by now. In fact, I had a big steak dinner last night and was convinced that it would pop after the meal. You'd think, after eating my own weight in cow, I wouldn't have room for a baby, a cow AND an innie belly button, but apparently, I do and it's hanging in there.

Eek, labor.

I just realized that I gloss over what actually happens at the end of pregnancy. You know, when I eject a 7-8lb kid out of my na-na. Funny thing is, I don't actually think about it much. Before I was pregnant, that's all I thought about - the horrors of labor. But now that the feel-good hormones have kicked in, I'm like, 'labor, oh, that ain’t no big thang, I can handle that'.

Annnnnnnnwaaaay, I'm wearing my favorite dress today, the one with fishes. And I'm going to dinner at CraftSteak - yumm. Wait a minute! I'm doing it again! I'm glossing over labor... I swear, it's the hormones. I guess I just need to have faith that god will be by my side, and get me through this. Haha kidding! I need faith that NYU Medical has a full stock of epidural so I can get the highest dose humanly possible. Now that’s faith!

5 Steps Britney Needs To Take So We Can Look At Her Again:

What is Britney's deal? Why can't she get dressed in the morning like the rest of us? And please, Brit-Brit do not give the 'I'm country and knocked up again' excuse. No one wants to hear it sister! Here are my suggestions for a simple makeover:

1. Become BFF with Kevin Paves so he can do your hair everyday like Jessica Simpson.

2. Do not wear K-Fed's dirty, old, 'god only knows where they've been the night before' boxers. Have mercy and leave them to the hookers, I mean ladies he brings home so they have something to wear on the long and lonely 'walk of shame' home.

3. No more tank tops with cute or bold statements that you wish you could say, but just don't have the balls to spit out.

4. Hire a stylist - please! You can sing, dance and procreate, but you simply can't dress yourself. Don't be ashamed, it's okay. Just hire someone to dress you, so we can stand to look at you again.

5. Tone down the make-up - at least for the sake of your son. Sean Preston does not want you looking like a hoochy momma.

photo source: http://www.thesuperficial.com/

Hezbollah Shmezbollah

So, the world is quickly going up in flames. Hezbollah and Israel are at war, and there is no immediate end in sight. The Hezbollah fighters are much, much more experienced, well-armed and dangerous than Israel first expected. And the Lebanese people are the ones paying the price. But, hey, what does this have to do with having a baby? Nothing!

The typical me (typical = pre-pregnancy) reads the international section of the paper front to back, I consume op-ed articles all while watching the news. Today, the news, as bad as it is, is at a low hummm. Today, I read the paper, maybe about a paragraph, and then I find myself daydreaming about the future with little Hayden.

I think it must be a defense mechanism. If I thought too long and hard about this stuff, I'd be terrified to have a child, particularly in NYC. So, now, I just tune it out. Frankly, the world looks pretty rosy from this standpoint. Now I know what the ignorant dopes that voted Bush in must have felt like.

Retail Therapy

So, I mentioned I went through a period of being scared about by having a baby. Chris thought shopping for Hayden would be the cure - and he was right! We got the cutest kimono's, onesies, PJ's and Rock n Roll outfits. Now, I'm super excited about having a baby and dressing him up! Poor kid, little does he know he'll be my living manequin for the rest of his life...

Moving On Up....

We need a place to actually put the baby, so we're moving. We considered staying in our apartment and raising Hayden in the armoir or under the bed, but came to stark realization that a second bedroom is necessary. We're hoping to get a two bedroom aptartment in a new building in Brooklyn Heights. Chris is excited about the building because there is laundry on every floor and a gym in the building. It's a dream to my laundry-loving, gym-obsessed husband.

In fact, my entire family is 'moving on up' because my sister will move into my place - from a tiny studio to a one bedroom. So we all win.

OMG! I'm Going To Have A Baby!

need i say more?

Belly Button

I'm fascinated with my belly button.

Why?

As my stomach gets bigger, I can see deeper and deeper into my belly button. I thought I knew all there was to know about my body, and suddenly, in pregnancy, I can see an entirely new part of me that I never could before. As the view to my legs and feet shrink due to my burgeoning belly, my belly button is probably the only part that i can see more of, not less. And I love it!!

I wish I took pictures just of my belly button from the start, so I can document the changes. Wouldn't that be the type of display, in black n white The MOMA or someone would pay millions for? I could become famous - all because I love my belly button.

I'll notify you as soon as it pops.

The Best of Times to Crap!

This pregnancy has been a roller-coaster of emotions. Up until three days ago, I've never been happier. I tell everyone I meet, strangers on the street, seat-neighbors on the subway, co-workers and managers that I am madly, deeply in love with my husband. That I've never been so in love, our relationship never so strong!! I walk around on a cloud consisting of hormones and excitement. Inevitably making most people around me want to gag, because no one else can possibly be as happy as me. Well folks, this all came to a sudden end.

Three days ago, I went from the pure, unadulterated joy I’ve been living to the depths of despair. And it wasn’t pretty. The stress of moving, the baby, my body turning itself from a hot-thang to a ka-dunk-a-dunk-dunk made me suddenly freak out. And I started to cry, inconsolably. And I went to bed and had a panic attack, wondering why am I doing this to myself, my life!? WHY! I’m happy, things are great, why am I taking such a big leap?

The only antidote was a quick, friendly call from a friend who has been there. And she said, I’ve been there, I get it, it will pass. And it did – right then and there. You may wonder, am I back to cloud nine? Am I making strangers sick with my stories of love? No. But I’m not wandering around Dante’s Inferno either. I think a little extra love from my husband, retail therapy, spa treatment and a day off of work will do the trick! (retail therapy has already been executed and is doing wonders for my spirit.)

From Hot to House

Up until last week, I was hot. Really, I was a hot momma! Even the construction workers would make cat calls in my direction. Now, I only get cat calls from the men that like to get it on with severely obese women. You know these men. They are skinny and nerdy show up on Maury Povich explaining why only 500 lb++ women turn them on. The standard line, “the more weight, the more woman to love”
I used to walk around, proud as a peacock over my growing belly - showing it off on the weekends with mini tank tops and only wearing skimpy bikini's to the beach.

Suddenly, and virtually overnight, I went from hot to house. When did this happen? I'm trying to review my food intake and time spent on the couch after work to see if really, I deserve to be a house. And you know what? I think I do. My ass is as big as my stomach, and with my spine supporting my tummy, it makes my ass stick out even further! I said it before, and it deserves to be said again, da dunk a dunk dunk. I can hear it with each step I take.

My plan: go to the gym and swim, walk, lift weights and do yoga. However, this is always my plan. And it never works!! Never! A great dinner always, always wins over the gym. Or a great TV show. Or a crap TV show and time on the couch. Just about anything but the gym.

This house weighs: 148.