last night i asked my farmer if i could be "done."

he wasn't sure what i was talking about.

but then i groaned, rolled over, sat up, and groaned again.

then he realized that i wanted to be "done" being with bebe.

and with all the groaning, rolling over, groaning, and tiny bladder...i'm starting to actually wonder if i'm turning into a bebe. isn't that what they do?

36 weeks - boom



bump watch - i think it goes without saying my bump is no longer a bump. let's get real, people. it's there. it's real. it's as hard as a rock.

coincidentally enough, it's the only time in my life when i've had a firm stomach. good for me.

how big is bebe? bebe is rockin' and rollin' at about 17 - 19 inches in length and about 5.5 pounds. that's what the books say. i'm convinced it's closer to 10 pounds and competes in strong-man competitions.

the kicking is a little painful, bebe. please get the memo. also bebe, when you hang onto my ribs with both your little hands...that hurts to. stop it.

the kicking? why so painful? well, you see, my farmer has what i call "dancer legs." long and lean, that's for sure. perfect for dancing...and kicking. i'm convinced bebe will also have dancer legs...just like my farmer, all 6'2" of him...see:



(the above picture makes me laugh because i took the picture to show my sister our new piece of furniture...farmer wanted to show off his dancer legs.)

so basically, day and night, i'm getting kicked in the stomach by dancer legs. enough about that...

clothing - the other day i ordered some awesome white, skinny jeans from j.crew. they were on sale. and when they arrived and i tried to put them on...you get the picture. what was i thinking? they are currently in our burn pile.

they aren't actually in our burn pile...moreso on the floor of our closet where i mouth hateful words in their direction every day.

note to self - don't buy regular clothing until you are regular-sized. sheesh.

weight gain - no problem here. i'm packin' it on. 16 pounds, just like that. it's amazing what a few weekly milkshakes will do.

stretch marks? not as of yet...but i'm not taking any chances.

workouts - no more running. (sob sob sob.) it's been a few weeks and i miss it terribly. so now i just pump my arms as i speed walk on the treadmill. i prefer not to subject our neighbors to my workout attire. my gut is no longer covered by my workout shirts. it pokes out the bottom of all of them. real classy-like. regardless, i just put some bachelor pad on the ol' ipad and march until i can't take the ridiculous drama anymore...either that or about 45 minutes, approximately three to four times a week.

last night i was so entranced with the episode i was watching, 60 minutes was gone...just like that.

gender - we'll keep you posted.

cravings - how can one have cravings if one eats everything one desires?

most dramatic moment of the week? well, i finally decided that my hair falling out in patches wasn't going to do the trick. why do other women get fantastic hair and nails during pregnancy and my hair, quite literally, breaks off in chunks. at first i thought it was new growth...it wasn't. just patchy little spots on the right side of my head giving me what i lovingly dubbed my sideways mullet. business on the right, party on the left. i got away with this look (i think) for a few weeks/months by sweeping my hair to one side...but it just got to be too dramatic. alas...my glorious friend, amanda the nurse who also does hair, scooped me up and fixed my hairz real good like.

before: long, blonde, mullet-city


after: short, brown, and sensible (according to my farmer). he calls it my mom-cut. it had to be done...


everyone knows you DON'T smile when taking self-pictures, whilst driving on back, country-roads.

very mom, yes? yes.

my farmer still said i was pretty, but i know he prefers the longer, blonder hair.