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Over the weekend Harry and I drove about 40 minutes south of Minneapolis in order to visit the new- and only- Costa Vida in the state. I will never say that Costa Vida is as good as Cafe Rio, but it was still a taste of the west, and I greatly appreciated it.

After dining on sweet pork, I excused myself from the table with my currently most used phrase of life ..."I need to go to the bathroom." As I crossed the room, weaving in between the colorful tables and chairs, a younger guy saw me approaching. He proceeded to drag his chair as close as possible to his table, sucking in his stomach and holding his breath, to give me every possible inch of space to pass behind him. There had previously been about 3 feet of room for me to walk through, but I smiled and thanked him for his consideration, wondering if I actually looked like I was as wide as a refrigerator. Harry and I laughed for a good 5 minutes about the entire encounter.

So that's where I'm at. I have reached the point where people are so astounded by my size that I might as well be howling out "FEE FI FO FUM!" as I lumber around gorging myself on cheese smothered pork burritos. And I've still got a month and half left. partying partying.



Now let's take bets on whether our baby is bald like Harry was or a sassafras like me. I'm hoping for both. 

peace and braxton hicks
all day, every day. 
but not like scarily all day. just regularly occurring at normal and well spaced intervals all day.

rrww

32

It's been a doozy of a week. Minnesota was embraced in the warm arms of a 3 day blizzard. The day before the storm we entered Home Depot a store that i am more than reasonably excited to have a strong relationship with at some point in my life and came face to face with a giant sign that read "ARE YOU READY FOR THE BLIZZARD TORNADO?" 

First, what in the world is a blizzard tornado? Are they selling those at Dairy Queen now? 

Second, unless you are Dennis Quaid on his way to rescue Jake Gyllenhaal, when could you possibly look around yourself and say "if a tornado and a blizzard hit me directly at the exact same time and merged forces into a giant arctic storm, I would be totally ready,"? <---- is that punctuation even close to being right?

Home Depot was using the sign to sell snow blowers.

We do not own a snow blower, but we do have recently purchased boots thanks to the madness of Hunter at Target. So we took advantage of the cancelled church and strolled through the city to go print tax documents off at school. The strolling mainly consisted of me clinging to Harry while I slipped and slid everywhere, pointing out cars for Harry to help push out of snow banks. It's easy to offer help when you're 8 months pregnant and can't do any of the heavy lifting yourself. 

We ended the weekend at a doctors appointment, where I was strapped up to a stress test in order to make sure the little guy was doing alright. We had been hit pretty hard by an uninsured driver who lost control on the ice and smashed the entire drivers side of our poor little Mazda. We are bitter. But we are healthy. 

peace and police reports

harry the law student is exercising his newly obtained education rather well due to our mishap

rrww

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Cons of pregnancy:
-feeling like a reenactment of the Karate Kid is happening inside me each night just as I am trying to go to bed, or at any given time of day really
-not being able to sleep on my back
-limited wardrobe options however, pants with elastic bands that go up to your chest are scarily comfortable. like, i might wear them even when i'm no longer pregnant

Pros of pregnancy:
-being able to ask Harry to get my water bottle for me from across the room and not being accused of extreme laziness
-little baby pants that a human will actually fit into
-discovering that I have a freckle in my belly button I never knew about
-being the best, most perfect mom in the world because I am literally giving him everything he needs 100% of the time which will never occur again in his life
-getting double takes at the gym like all the pretty girls in movies do

In other very important news I got a haircut last week and, what with my extreme emotional state, was despaired at it's results insert eye roll here. After two years of patiently waiting to get some length, what I thought was going to be a quick trim ended up being a 5 inch cut. Sure, you can say that it's just hair and it'll grow back, but keep in mind I am about 2 months away from postpartum hair loss. bring on the baldness

Fortunately, it's really not as bad as I keep imaging it to be. In fact, Harry didn't even notice a difference until I asked him about it two days later. i love it when we fit into stereotypes

peace and packing
we're moving! yayayaayayya

rrww

thoughts at....

I am 30 weeks pregnant and I still don't really understand why we measure pregnancies in weeks. Yeah yeah, weeks are more accurate than months because months don't always have the same number of days or full weeks in them. But when Jim at the office comes up to my desk and asks me how far along I am, and I respond with "29 weeks," I just get a blank smile while his mind tries to do the math. So then I have to try to do the math and end up convincing myself that I'm either having the baby next week, or will be pregnant until the end of the year. Wouldn't that be fun? 

And those are my thoughts at 30 weeks, aka 15 fortnights, aka 1,205 viewings of Lord of the Rings Return of the King. 

........

Harry and I get a little better at celebrating holidays and making a few traditions with each passing year. We could hardly remember our first Easter after we were married, and last year I quickly stuffed some popcorn behind his vinyls for him to hunt for. This year we went to Target because we like to support the local stores the day before Easter and split up to assemble each other's baskets. Our limit was $10 each. We both doubled that. budgeting win. 

Easter morning dawned bright and warm. I awoke to welcome the day and as I pirouetted towards the bedroom door, I beheld a trail of new ceramic measuring cups filled with Cadbury mini eggs leading me on an adventure. At the end of the trail was a basket with two cute new bowls that, in Harry's words, would be "perfect for yogurt."

***real story***
I woke up to the sound of paper and plastic grass rustling from the front room and looked out the window at the frozen land of the north. Groggily I started waddling into the front room. Harry quickly stopped me and demanded that I go into the bathroom and stay there. I sat on the toilet because where else are you going to sit in a bathroom?! for about 10 minutes, and only once I decided to make use of my time and shower did Harry release me from my prison. At that point I opened the bathroom door and beheld the trail of measuring cups and Cadbury eggs. The "perfect for yogurt" part of the story is true, and they are.

Harry is like the character Jack from "This Is Us" which if you are a participating member of society you have seen in that he always gifts better than I do. So while I will enjoy the memory of Easter morning each time I eat yogurt or berries from my new bowls or measure out a cup of milk for cookies, Harry can only enjoy his Easter basket for the amount of time it takes him to drink a bottle of chocolate milk. That time is currently set at about 27 seconds.

Now I'm off to do some snow angels.

peace and public libraries

rrww