Two Niner

I actually dressed up yesterday, a rare occurrence. Generally, I wear a pair of jeans that Cue uses as his personal tissue. I'm a walking example of 'what not to wear.' Snot encrusted jeans, for instance. It's altruistic. I like to make others feel good about themselves.

In celebration of my cleanliness, Matt took some twenty-nine week pictures. Eleven weeks to go today.

I wish I had something sweet and profound to say about carrying a life and this sweet baby's constant bumps to remind me of what a miracle each day is and how soon it will be gone. But, no. I have this to tell you. I've reached that delightful point in a pregnancy at which, when I bend over, my boobs rub against my belly. I'm shocked (!) every time (!) because holy crap (!) I have boobs (!). That never happens to me. Will you look at that, the weird rubbing feeling is my actual boobs rubbing the top of my gigantic uterus.

There's some information you undoubtedly could have lived without.

I also passed my one-hour glucose test. By fasting. I avoided almost all sugar the week before the test. Given the circumstances, I'm trying not to consider my success free reign to suck down chai tea at an alarming rate. I've reduced my intake from outrageous to mildly embarrassing.

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Gratefulness. Thank you. I didn't really plan to fund raise, just walk in Maddie's honor. This blog world is an astonishing place (and my family is pretty darn cool too). Spokane for Maddie has almost reached our $300.00 goal. I am so proud to be a tiny part of the OVER $55,000.00 raised for the March of Dimes in Maddie's name.

To everyone who took the time to vote in the Blogger's Choice Awards - thanks. It's probably silly, but it tickles me to no end that this blog is now on page two of over three hundred pages of blogs in the parenting category.

There is one vote missing, however, if you'll excuse me for a moment. Can I get you a magazine? I think I have Brain, Child and US Weekly around here somewhere.

MOM!! You aren't fooling anyone. I can SEE who has voted. Not you. Nor Aunt D for that matter. Aunt H has acquired permanent favorite aunt status as far as I'm concerned. Don't think you'll be able to convince the kids otherwise when you fly out here in a couple of weeks. I'm their mother. I can exert my corrupting influence on them constantly. If I spend the next six months telling them that it was Aunt H that flew out here and let them eat cookies for three days, it will be so. They are clueless and easily confused creatures. Half the time, they think they are cats.

Don't make me lie. Do you want to be known as "lazy D.C. grandma"? Don't give me that "I'm so busy" line either. Do you know how much time it takes to download pictures and organize them and upload them to blogger?



There. How are you going to thank me? Perhaps by clicking the little Blogger's Choice button to the right? If you don't do it, I'm going to go on picture strike while I teach your only three grandchildren to do this whenever lazy DC grandma is mentioned.



You know I would. You raised me.

Oh, hi, are you all still here too? Aha. Thanks for visiting me today. And, ah, yeah, sorry about the little family spat. Don't worry about us. That is completely normal communication in this family. (That raspberry is exclusively for my mother.)