Because I Can't Have Wine, How About Some Whine?

I feel sooooooooooo crappy today. In case the multiple "o"s didn't convey just how crappy I feel, let me tell you.

First of all, my all-day nausea came back today, in my 13th week of pregnancy, just to say, "Screw you, Sarah-- you thought this was over. Ha! This is only the beginning!" Also back? My crippling exhaustion. At 10 this morning, I fell asleep on the bed on top of a pile of waiting-to-be-folded laundry, and I stayed asleep for nearly 45 minutes. Harry, unfortunately, was not asleep. He wasn't even in his crib. Na, he was running unsupervised around the upstairs, pulling all of our clothes out of our dressers and trying to climb on top of his desk. he woke me up at a quarter of eleven by yanking the barrette out of my hair-- he wanted lunch, see, and he couldn't quite manage to get it himself. Oh yeah! And I have such bad heartburn that I may have to sleep sitting up.

Okay. I'm borning myself, so I won't even tell you about my back, shoulder, and hip aches (except to say I think my hips are getting wider which really sucks, and you would totally understand why if you've seen my hips).

But, I do have some really cute pictures of Harry at the park, including these slide shots, the last of which is my favorite Harry picture ever.

My Little Mess

What the Vacuum Says

Harrys Says a Few Animal Sounds, but my Enthusiasm Masks His Cute Little Dog Noise from sarah on Vimeo.

Would You Rather

Close all the windows, turn on the AC, and wait until your house fills with the smell of festering rodent OR open all the windows to maintian the illusion of freshness, and wait until the temperature reaches 90 degrees inside your house?

Yeah-- neither choice is good. After coming home home from our walk to an 85 degree main floor, we went with the first one.

Hey-- want to see some cute pictures of Harry riding in stuff?

Usually when we go to the mall, I use all my change for gumballs, but this day I thought what the hell and put Harry in one of those bouncey car things.

Eventually, he was brave enough to unhand the mouse's nose.


Note: These things are really hard to steer. They are also really grimy.



During this quick trip to the grocery store,I suddenly became that pregnant woman with the disgusting cravings. I can't remember why I was even there (milk for Harry, perhaps), but I filled my cart with goat cheese crumbles, Sour Patch Kids, Super Sour Jolly Ranchers, and pineapple. Then I got home, sat on the couch, and pigged out on goat cheese and sour candy-- together, sometimes in the same mouthful. Are you kidding me? Who am I?

Ben got home and spent hours in the basement looking for the rodent (no luck, but our shelves have never been cleaner). After he emerged (totally sweaty because he wore his winter coat because he wanted to be as covered up as possible in case he had to touch it), past his dinner time and very hungry, he looked through the cabinets and announced he was going to get a pizza. I got all huffy and said, "God, Ben, I went to the grocery store today." He just looked at me in disbelief, and I realized that, perhaps, goat cheese, whole milk, and Jolly Ranchers are not everyone's ideal meal choice. Go figure.

Big Brother Book Help

Hey, anyone know where I can get a book for Harry about being a big brother? Not just any book, mind you, but one that supports our breastfeeding, co-sleeping, yippy kind of lifestyle.

All the books I have found at Borders and Barnes and Noble talk about how the baby will drink a bottle and sleep in a crib. Well, these things won't happen for Harry's new baby, and we don't want him to think that we're a bunch of weirdos, so we need a book that reflects our habits (crunchy granola hippy wannabees that we are). If you know of a good one, let me know.

Also, anyone see that new study about fish and pregnant/breastfeeding moms? It goes against the FDA's recommendation and says pregnant and nursing women need AT LEAST 12 ounces of fish a week for proper fetal/infant brain development. Hmmmm. It claims, too, that there's never been a proven link between the mercury moms eat and neurotoxicity in fetuses. Hmmm again. So, what's a girl to do? I think I may get some DHA supplements or flaxseed oil or fish oil from Whole Foods and get my omega 3s that way, but I'd loive to eat more fish, so I am torn.

In other Harry news, we've had our first official public temper tantrum at the Starbucks on campus. We stopped for a snack on our way home yesterday, and Harry really wanted to get out of his stroller to better enjoy his shortbread cookies and milk. Rookie mom that I am, I let him out, even though the place ws teeming with students and faculty, none of whom seemed interested in Harry's spitty advances. I tried to convince him to sit at the table with me, and he went ape shit. Unfortunately, his flailing was blocking ONE of the SIX POSSIBLE routes to the door, and these two girls with venti something-or-others and the largest sunglasses I have ever seen outside the pages of US Weekly got all pissy and stood there huffing while I tried to peel Harry of the floor. Awesome fun.

Finally, apropos of nothing, Harry eating a banana.

Want To Know the Worst Thing About a Dead Rodent in Your Basement?

There's really nothing you can do about it.

We really can't find it.

As per a very helpful webpage we Googled, we've used our noses to ascertain the location where the smell is strongest. That would be a light switch (yes, damn it. it smells like the freaking stench is pouring out of the light switch, okay?) on the wall in our basement that helps make up the stairs to our main level. Which would make sense since the smell is moving up the stairs to our main level. Where we live. And eat. Used to eat.

Oh my god.

And? The icing on my personal cake is that I have a wicked strong sense of smell these days because of the pregnancy. All dead rodent all the time. Smell-o-vision. I hung out upstairs ALL DAY today. Went out to lunch. And snack. Couldn't eat dinner, but managed to choke down some Sour Patch Kids and Squirt while I watched L.A.Ink.

Only the best for this baby. Who? By the way? Freaked me out today. I had an OB appointment, and I was excited because I am 11 weeks and thought I could hear the heartbeat. Well, the nurse couldn't find it. The nurse practitioner couldn't find it. The doctor couldn't find it. Sooo, he busted out his portable ultrasound machine (which, he assured me, wasn't powerful enough to let us "take the tour" but could certainly find the heartbeat), and we saw the little flicker. Phew. The baby was flipping and twirling and squirming-- it was hard to get a good glimpse of the heartbeat because of the movement, so everything is great. All the sugar aand caffeine is just keeping it hopping. Oh! And it got really big in the last 2 weeks. It has a face, or at least a profile, and stumpy little arms and legs. Very cute.

In just 9 short weeks, we'll find out if it's a boy or a girl. December 7th at 4:00 in the afternoon. Mark your calendars.

I should be asleep right now, but genius me had a 1/2 caff latte at 3 pm, so I'm still a little jazzed.

Here's Harry at Target, about to eat my shopping list. He always does that-- like he's a spy and my list is a top government secret.


Ha ha -- he's stuck in this skillet.


Look at that reach!


This is how he woke up from his nap-- staring contemplatively at his toes.

Wanna Hear Something Gross?

There's a dead rodent somewhere in our basement.

We're thinking in the walls or the furnace or the vents because we can't find it or any signs of it. (Neither one of us really wanted to find it, mind you, because then we'd have to DO SOMETHING besides bitch about it, but we got out flashlights, and we LOOKED, damn it). But my god can we smell it. Eff. We had some chipmunks living in our garage, so Ben put out some D-Con, which they ate. Now at least one of them appears to have dragged its sick body inside our house to die. Yum. And I really hope it's just one.

In other news, I have the most ridiculous cravings (no, the smell of dead rodent doesn't affect my appetite in the least), like Sour Patch Kids and anything the nieghbors are eating-- whatever I smell out the window (fried chicken, burgers, tuna helper), I want to eat. Except pizza, which completely disgusts me for the first time in my whole life.

Harry's superb, accordnig to his doctor, whom we saw today for a check up and who was impressed with Harry's language use, motor skills, growth, and pleasant disposition. He was also glad that Harry still rides rear-facing, although I admitted we'd probably flip him around when the baby comes for space reasons (unless, of course, we get the minivan of Ben's dreams). The nurse was so glad I mentioned the baby because, as she said, "I wondered if Harry's mom was pregnant again." Cool. I have no name. Also, I am fooling no one in my oversized sweater and unbuttoned skinny jeans. (And really, are they skinny jeans when they're unbuttoned or just narrow-legged jeans?)

So, yeah. How about some Harry? Here's Harry's weekend in pictures.

Here we are at the Arboretum. We had to leave because there are turkeys and deer running around uncaged, and that's not cool with me, natural habitat blah, blah, blah.

Ben admiring the fall foliage through his lens

There's a big freaking deer in this picture-- it was just chilling on the path in front of us. I ran way.




Ben went to the football game while Harry helped me clean out my closet and unpack all my old maternity clothes. Turns out since I didn't start showing until freaking January with Harry, I have a shortage of fall clothes. Also, I have some HUGE summer clothes that I wore when I was 9 month pregnant that hopefully won't have to make an appearance this time. We're talking monstrous Daisy Dukes (what the hell was I thinking?) and the biggest beaded purple halter top I have ever seen (again WTF??).



Okay-- I have more pictures, but Blogger is soooo slow right now. So, tell ya about the reast of our weekend later. Or maybe not because it was completely lovely, relaxing, and boring, just the way we like it!