As requested...

So you wanted to see what I look like pregnant? 

Here I am today, feeling great at 33 weeks.  Thirty-three out of forty.  That's 8 full months + 1 week.  Three weeks from what is considered "full-term."  Six weeks from my due date.  The final stretch.  Me....having a baby.  Yikes!  It's scary and exciting all at once...which is probably why I woke up in the middle of the night dreaming about what size onesies to buy, wondering whether it is a boy or a girl, how big it will be, making a mental list of what is left to do, how long of a maternity leave to take, what labor will feel like, when to start washing baby things in Dreft, and literally getting kicked in the ribs and the bladder at the same time. 

We can't wait!

My uninteresting life

When did emailing replace writing letters, texting replace calling, and facebook replace socializing?  When did wearing sweatshirts to a hole-in-the-wall bar become more fun than getting gussied up to go to a dance club?  When did conversations turn from grades and gossip to recipes and kids?  When was the last time I walked to class instead of walked to exercise?  When did going out to dinner become more fun than just going out?  When did getting up early on a Saturday morning start to feel better than staying out late?  When did counting the months I'd been with my boyfriend turn into the years I've been with my husband?  When did getting my ring cleaned become one of the best free treats?  When did trips to the mall turn into trips to the hardware store?  When did thousand-dollar purchases replace hundred-dollar purchases?  When did my parents become so cool and so knowledgable?  When did my siblings become my friends?  When did my job turn into my career?  When did church turn into somewhere I want to be instead of somewhere I have to be?  When did my high heels get replaced with flats?  When did I start holding the steering wheel with both hands instead of one?  Could it be that I am officially a grown-up?  Sometime, in the last few years, a transformation took place... and now I have grown-up expenses and grown-up responsibilities and grown-up priorities and grown-up joys and a grown-up life.  And I wanted it all.  It just came naturally...

Sometimes the best things in life are found on a clearance rack in Target

To my Girls Weekend '09 gals:

Remember when I was so excited that one of you captured this photo of Hillary Scott from the Lady Antebellum concert?  (Just look at those amazing shoes!)  Well, I became one step closer to completing my knock-off version of this outfit when I found a black maternity vest on the clearance rack at Target!!  Yes, I said "maternity!!!" 
I love her style, so I'm going to copy it, pregnant or not.  Is there a rule against pregnant women wearing skinny jeans?  If so, I'm breakin' it!  Is there a rule that only skinny people can wear skinny jeans?  If so, I'm breakin' that one, too!

Basement vs. Weekend Warriors

I know what you're thinking: "This is isn't a very interesting blog if no one ever updates it!!"  I know, I know.  It's been far too long, so here ya go...

If there was a contest for "worst basement," we would win.  Avocado green carpet, gold-flecked countertops and outdated fixtures?  Nope, that was all upstairs.  Down in this dungeon, no one would dare install carpet, for fear it would get wet.  This basement sweats worse than Tiger Woods at a custody hearing.  Plus, the current occupants (my husband and I; guilty as charged) have done nothing to clean up the cobwebs or even swept the concrete floors since we moved in. 

Yes, this basement does serve a purpose and have a history.  It was poured and built from cinder blocks 50+ years ago when this 70+ year old farmhouse was moved to this yard.  It also houses the laundry facilities, deep freeze, furnace and corn stove, tons of storage, and even a shower that was used years ago for the dirt-covered men after a long day of farming.  But it was filthy, and it was time to do something...quick, before the baby comes!  I made it my New Year's Resolution to get it in better shape before the first weekend of 2010 was over. 

First, here's what my New Year's Eve looked like...

I drank sparkling grape juice out of a sorority formal glass.  I almost let loose and had a Diet Coke, but I had already gone all-out that morning when I had a caffeinated cup of coffee.  J and I had the most low-key, relaxing New Year's that I can recall.  I made a ham, we watched the USA vs. Canada hockey game, and watched the ball drop at 11pm our time.  Then again at midnight.  Then we went to bed.

Then, New Year's Day, the production began.  We started from the top and worked our way down.  First, every cobweb was swept out of every floor joist- by far the grossest job I have ever had.  The kind of job that leaves a person sneezing all day, and when you blow your nose, black dust comes out.  Gross.  I'd rather be shopping.  I could tell J was having as much fun as I was when he said periodically, "I thought you're not supposed to work on New Years?"  But we kept on, until every shelf was cleaned off, every surface dusted, and the floors were swept.  Every item was sorted into "keep" piles, "burn" piles, "recycle" piles, and "stash-this-under-the-crawlspace-so-we-never-have-to-look-at-it-again" piles.  Every time J would poke or nudge me, I told him that I felt like my body was covered in spiders, so he had to quit that immediately.  But we got through it together, and J made the experience much more enjoyable than it would have been alone. 

He was so excited when he found this old, metal jug and requested to use it for his morning coffee from now on.  Here's a photo comparing the size of this jug, a standard coffee carafe, and a thermos.  How practical....

We also found a bottle opener that said "Hamm's Beer, the refreshingest."  Hey, no one ever said drinking beer made you better at grammar!

After being married to him for two years, I have learned that sometimes J says things just to get a rise out of me.  Mid-basement-cleaning, he looked around and said, "I think I'm going to set up my drums in this corner and this can be my office!"  He wants to spend more time than necessary down here?!  He wants this to be his man cave?!  I'm thinking, "Go ahead and do the laundry while your down here, too, buddy!"  I will never understand him.

So the basement is DONE!  What a sense of accomplishment!