The Pregnant Waddle

Pre-Pregnancy Weight Just Around the Corner (It's Trying to Run and Hide)

Thursday, June 30, 2005

The Tale of the Blue Shorts

Once upon a time, there was a pair of blue plaid shorts. This time was, specifically, the early 1990s, when such shorts were not uncommonly worn by young men, usually paired with a suave and fashionable T-shirt. Now, this particular pair of shorts belonged to a young man who went to boarding school in Kenya. We deduce this by the historical, archaeological, or even textual evidence of his initials, carefully Sharpied onto the tag (can you tell I’ve been reading Possession?).

Over the years, the blue plaid shorts moved many times (usually very rapidly, if being worn by the young man). They travelled to the U.S.; they explored the wilds of the Midwest and California; they came to rest on the Atlantic coast. There they settled into their senior years, the pyjama bottoms of choice, but growing a bit saggy around the waist.

Two evenings ago, their story took a dramatic turn. The young man experienced an Incident of Near-Indecent Exposure when the shorts’ waistband went the way of all elastic while he was a) wearing them and b) taking compost out to the heap. As a result, the shorts were deemed no longer appropriate for outdoor use (and somewhat precarious indoors, as well).

Yesterday, the young man’s pregnant wife appropriated the shorts, finding that they pulled up quite nicely over her belly and provided a pleasant alternative to large sundresses, especially when paired with a large tank top.

Last night, the young man tried on his shorts once again. They fell off him. After a mere day of the pregnant belly, the elastic had given up what remained of the ghost.

Thus, the shorts’ existence comes full circle (har). They have been reborn, as it were, though not as the clothing of a slim young man, but as the desperation wear of a 38-weeks pregnant woman who appears to have doubled her husband in circumference.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

In the interest of complete and total accuracy

I should probably mention that, two nights ago, I backhanded my husband in the eye while asleep. I appear to have picked up his sleep habits.

I think I was trying to get momentum to turn over.

T minus 16 days! (Squidgle, are you listening?)

Well, things waddle on apace at this end. I have gone from being a mobile lump to a semi-mobile lump of pregnant mommyhood. We had a rather busy weekend, complete with our fourth baby shower (through Husbandlet’s lab group), tootling around looking at houses and cars for parents (who are officially starting their trek out here on the 8th or 9th of July—yay!), and frolicking with 12 small kidlets and their parents (well, the kidlets and my husband frolicked; I sat and talked birth stories with the mommies). Which explains why I was so completely exhausted yesterday that a little dishwashing and house-straightening reduced me to a horizontal non-mobile lump, lounging in bed, eating lime popsicles, and haphazardly re-reading A. S. Byatt’s Possession WHICH IS A FABULOUS BOOK GO READ IT NOW.

I have packed our little diaper bag with baby things to take to the hospital. I have our driving-to-the-hospital-while-in-labor bag stocked with towel and plastic trash bag/seat cover and emergency nausea supplies (i.e. Wal-Mart bags with no holes in the bottom). Now all that is left is to install the carseat and get the mommy and daddy hospital supplies packed. I think we are both about as prepared, physically and psychologically, as we can be. Squidgle, on the other hand, seems to be objecting to the idea of coming out, if his/her body language is to be believed: still head down, but attempting to jam rear end up through my rib cage like a tiny battering ram.

Speaking of ribs, Squidgle and I had a conversation* the other night, thus convincing our friend Chris, who was over for supper, that I am completely crazy. The Husbandlet had grilled barbecued ribs, and the Squid was attempting to navigate new passages in mine. So I told him/her, “You know, kid, we have a lot in common. Daddy and I like to eat ribs, and you like to kick them.”**

* I guess a conversation, by definition, really involves two or more people talking. Let’s just count the kicking as Squidgle’s contribution.

** We also like to tickle ribs.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005


Last night, the Husbandlet and I were snuggling on the couch, the Squid was wiggling, and I was hit by a sudden realization:

Me: We're going to have a baby!
Husbandlet: Yes.

Brief pause.

Husbandlet: But ... not right now, right?

(Indeed, no; the Squid is still very much on the inside.)

Monday, June 20, 2005

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

Well, hello, gentle readers! Again with the long silence, I know, I know, but I have been taking a couple days’ R&R following the extreme busyness of the end of school. Here is the rundown of my last few days, just so you won’t feel left out:

* Tuesday: Nothin’ as far as actual interacting with students; lots as far as packing up classroom, etc.
* Wednesday: Did the Sadistic School Scavenger Hunt, a.k.a. the check-out sheet, which involved traipsing all over the school looking for various people to sign off on various things. Much excitement. Later, there was a baby doctor trip and a celebratory end-of-school date night with the Husbandlet. We saw Batman Begins … the fight scenes made me queasy (camera work, not gore) and it wasn’t what I would call an art film, but it was a lot of fun. Plus … I mean, Liam Neeson AND Morgan Freeman? And that really cool Japanese actor who blew Tom Cruise off the screen in The Last Samurai? Where did they get this cast? (Christian Bale did a good job too, though I will always have a hard time dissociating him from Little Women.)

* end of pop-culture-related foray *

*Thursday: Spent the day in Husbandlet’s office doing work on the classes I’m taking this summer. Brief jaunts up to the high school to do a couple last-minutey things, and to the dentist.
*Friday: I am pleased to say that I did not leave the house at all. I wore a flowered sundress (extremely large) and lay in bed and ate bonbons. When the Husbandlet came home, I cracked the whip over him and made him produce a gourmet meal for me. (No, really, I worked on my laptop while in bed, and I did get up a few times during the day, mostly to get more food, and when the Husbandlet came home I (I) baked him a frozen pizza while he showered off several layers of mud. All this at 36 weeks pregnant! Aren’t you impressed?)

This weekend, we had a lovely double date with the Husbandlet’s cousin and her husband, who it turns out read this blog (hi Heather and Luke!). Heather is such a delightful person that I am trying to forgive the fact that she, at around six months pregnant, is around the same size I was at three months along. Maybe all those chocolate milkshakes weren’t such a good idea after all … Waddle!

Our big news of late is that my dear father has a Real Live job now, at the high school where I work. He will be working with non-college-bound seniors to get their resumes together, work on their interviewing skills, find them jobs in the community, and then keep in contact with their bosses to make sure they’re doing OK. He is excited, and we are thrilled! They should be out here permanently by August 1, and possibly sooner.

This Thursday, I will have gestated Squidgle for 37 weeks. As far as I’m concerned, the timer goes off this Thursday with a most emphatic ding, and I am quite open to employing any and all old wives’ tales to induce labor. I’m not expecting them to work right away, of course (the Husbandlet is quite pleased about this, due to the nature of some labor-inducing activities prescribed by old wives and confirmed by your local OB/GYN) … but I’m willing to give the Squid a few weeks’ head start to get the idea.

In minutiae: Attempt to clip my toenails last night was not entirely successful. But it did lead to some interesting acrobatic contortions. I don’t think I’ll try that again until after the baby is born.

Finally, happy first Father’s Day, dearest Husbandlet! Squidgle has a wonderful daddy. I love you!

Monday, June 13, 2005

It begins

The shirt I am wearing today has three curry stains down the front. And I am at work. What have I become?!*

On the upside, I always know the appropriate attire for any meal involving 1) curry and 2) a pregnant belly.

* Of course, this is Work, where no one should be getting close enough to my front to confirm the presence of said stains. They should be far enough away that the hint of curry--is it or isn't it?--can add that touch of mystery, not to say Spice, to their lives.

It happened one night

My husband is an active sleeper. That is, he is quite active even while he's asleep. Most memorably, there was a Somnolent Head-Butting Incident which he will never live down if I have anything to do with it ... I was sleeping peacefully, all unsuspecting, when he suddenly smacked his head into mine, hard. I woke up. He did it again. Me: "Stop that!" Him: "Huh?" Me: "What are you doing?" Him: "A giant bird was eating my head!"*

This sort of thing makes my nights very entertaining, especially now that I face activity from within as well.

Last night, I had a lovely case of late-pregnancy-not-quite-insomnia-but-not-falling-asleep-either. Squidgle was having some sort of rave in there. Then the Husbandlet started patting my hip very hard and fast with his fingertips. The patting began to imitate spider crawling. Me: "Stop that!" (Are you sensing a theme here?) Him: "mumble." Me: "What?" Him: "I was getting mud off my fingers!"

Then there was that moment this morning when the alarm went off and the Husbandlet poked his finger into my side as if he was hitting the snooze.

* He was rather frustrated with me the next morning, because now he'll never know if the bird succeeded in eating his head or not.

Friday, June 10, 2005

Turtle crossing

For some reason, small turtles are out en masse on our country roads. The Husbandlet and I had the amusing experience of watching cars swerve around a turtle crossing the road on Saturday, and then seeing what appeared to be the same turtle headed the opposite direction on Sunday. (Apparently, he didn't like that side of the road as much as he thought he would.) So far, we haven't seen any turtle roadkill, though we did see an extremely flattened black rat snake this morning.

La la la, not too much to report. Squidgle's hiccups are reaching the wall-shaking level. The Husbandlet continues to alternate a clamlike love for the briny deep with long days devoted to PVC pipes and large tubs of mud. The last day of official school was yesterday, and today is the first day of finals for me. Because I teach mainly seniors, who don't take the final due to a project they completed earlier, this means that I'm going to be sitting around twiddling my thumbs for the next week. Fortunately, I am reading an interesting book. I could also do a bit of cleaning up and packing away in my classroom, though my 35-weeks-pregnant condition makes this a bit daunting. I should do it now, though, as I'm unlikely to be any less pregnant by next Friday.

Do give me any tips you have for whiling away the hours, trapped in a classroom. Amusing Internet links will suffice. And yes, my Husbandlet, I will try to get some writing in as well. :)

Monday, June 06, 2005

On the move

Squidgle appears to be migrating. For the last couple of months, s/he has been positioned head down, facing my right side, with his/her little tushie in my left side and little toes in my right rib cage ... I have mentioned the Affects of Baby Feet in Rib Cage upon Maternal Comfort Level and Disposition, have I not? If not, let it be said for the record: Ouch and grrrr. Anyway, yesterday there were several firm kicks to my diaphragm--that is one stretched-out baby--and today, a suspiciously tushie-like bump started sticking up towards my right. And since then, today has been wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.* I'll be tickled beyond words if the little talking-to we gave our baby the other night actually worked.

Here's the recap: Waddles are watching a birthing DVD, so as to alleviate any lingering Lamaze-skipping guilt. We discover that babies who face up during birth cause their mommies much unhappiness in the form of Back Labor. We reflect that Squidgle, while not face up, has not committed to the whole face down thing either, and prefers to recline lazily upon his or her side. We remonstrate with said baby.

It would seem completely in character (at least, the character I tend to ascribe to Squidgle) if our little firstborn overachiever should make those final moves into birthing position a full month before the timer goes off.

* (Of course, the increased wigglage could have something to do with the I-lost-count-yes-I-know-I'm-bad-don't-tell-my-nurse peanut M&Ms I just snarfed down. I was doling them out to myself, counting every one--"15 isn't that much more than 10, right?"--when, tragically, I spilled the bag. I had to eat a few extras while picking them up, didn't I?)

In other news, pray for Very Mom if you get a chance ... she's 16 weeks pregnant and having ongoing contractions.

Friday, June 03, 2005

How's THAT gonna work?

Well, I started trying to clean up/pack up my classroom yesterday. "Trying," because I ran into a slight hitch: bending over. Or the inability to do so.

School's out in two weeks, and I don't see myself getting any more ... um ... bendable during that time. There's no way I'll be able to pick up, pack up, move and unload several hundred textbooks. What to do, what to do.

Can we say "students as slave labor"?

If you have any time whatsoever, you must check these out

Via Tightly Wound:

The worst album covers ever


Store Wars.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

The pressure's on

Last night, the Husbandlet said to me, "If Squidgle isn't a girl, I'll never trust your intuition again."

Oh dear.