96.1% there, but who’s counting?

For those of you who don’t actually do useless math in random cells of the excel spreadsheet you’re working on on a Monday afternoon,  96.1% there means we are 11 days away from this baby’s due date. Soon we will be within the number of days that it is grammatically correct to spell out the number (one through ten, as I’m sure you're aware) instead of use the numeral, which is when I’m assuming things start to feel “really real.”

I’m happy to report that I have not yet started to spiral into the physical and emotional mess that I was fully expecting to be by now.  I think my expectation of late pregnancy was that I would eventually get so uncomfortable in my own skin that I wouldn’t be able to stand it any longer, but so far I haven’t reached that point. Of course there’s still plenty of time for things to go downhill, so for now I’m just glad to be feeling relatively good.

 

And even though I’m feeling relatively good, I still get some aches and pains and moments where I feel pretty huge, particularly at the end of the day (when I need to get up to go to the bathroom at night, I may or may not ask Tim to literally push me out of bed if he’s still awake). However, Tim has developed a weird (and just slightly annoying) habit of complaining about his own aches and pains whenever I complain about something. It’s sort of ridiculous to the point that if you heard it, you would swear he was joking, but he’s not. Examples:

M: Ugh, I’m kind of getting a stomach ache.

T: Yeah my stomach hurts too, and I have a bad headache.  

M: Can you carry the laundry upstairs because my back is hurting?

T: My back has been bothering me all day I think I slept on it wrong, but I guess so. 

Like I said, you would think he has to be joking slash mocking me, but I promise he’s for real. Even though he somehow seems to complain even more than I do, I will give him credit for the fact that he rubs my back and feet pretty much every day. And he packs my lunch (plus like ten snacks) for me to take to work in the morning.  As long as he’s just as helpful when the baby comes, I guess he can complain all he wants. 

That pretty much sums things up at 38ish weeks pregnant. Oh I never put up a picture from our 36 week 3D sonogram, mostly because it didn’t come out very good, but since I don’t have any good pictures of the dogs to post this week I might as well throw it out there:

A little disappointing that all we got was half of a face and some pouty lips, but that’s okay because soon enough we’ll be seeing the live version!

Google Search Story

Remember the Google "search story" commercials? If you don't you probably will once you see it again. My sister (the Google employee) made Allison her very own, rather awesome, search story:



Cool huh? We'll have to show it to her once she learns to use the computer, which I'm assuming will be around 6 months or so.

Warning: Dogs in costumes

I am fully aware of the polarizing effect dressing dogs in costumes has on people.  Dog costumes are like the New York Yankees of expressing Halloween festiveness.  I wouldn’t have necessarily thought of myself as pro-costume at first, but it just sort of happened.  A few years ago my mom bought Corey a hot dog costume, which I considered a pretty good gag gift that would probably be worn for about .5 seconds. We put the thing on him, and surprisingly he did not thrash around crazily to free himself or spiral into a deep depression of pathetic-ness.  He pretty much just pranced around enjoying all the attention he was getting, and thus a tradition was born. 

Last Halloween we dressed the dogs up and then sat in our driveway with them on leashes to pass out candy (this method is much more preferable to sitting in the house and having the doorbell ring 50 times with three dogs barking and flipping out at each and every ring).  People definitely loved the dogs in their costumes more than we anticipated (I’m talking parents taking pictures of our dogs instead of their kids, and kids that are normally sprinting from house to house to accumulate candy stopping in our driveway for 5 minutes to pet the dogs and ask all of their names, etc.).  So this year we just had to dress them up again.  So brace yourselves Red Sox fans, here come the pics:

Corey in his classic hot dog costume

Pierce the (giant) pumpkin

And Graham the cow. Moo.

After we put their costumes on we realized we probably should have taken them for a walk to burn some energy before all the excitement, so we decided to just take them around the block in their costumes. Here they are walking:

There were some kids outside down the street, and when they saw us coming they ran inside and got treats for the dogs. So yes, our dogs literally went trick-or-treating this year. How spoiled are they? And not to be outdone, Allison had to dress up too. She was a reindeer:

So that was our Halloween. In other news, our baby girl is due three weeks from Friday (no big deal or anything). Speaking of Friday I am pretty excited for the first non-exhibition UNC basketball game, which will be played on an aircraft carrier off the coast of California (if “I’m on a boat” references were still novel I would insert one here).

Maybe I’ll actually write a pregnancy-related post soon, but for now suffice it to say everything is still going smoothly.