And while friends tell me it's all baby, my ass, thighs and arms tell a different story.
Meanwhile, I'm waiting out my last few days here at work, trying to be patient and praying that my girl's foot doesn't stab through my skin. She's kicking the crap out of me. Whoever said they don't move as much at this stage because they've got such little room is a damn liar.
And just as there's plenty of information out there about why not to vaccinate, or to at least spread the vaccines out over a longer period of time and starting them at two years of age instead of day one, there's just as much information about how healthy vaccines are, and how they are not related to autism in the slightest. But why are there so many more kids these days being diagnosed with the disorder?
I'm sick of wondering and worrying. I just want my girl to be safe and healthy. I don't want her to get a shot and then be sick or have something go wrong. Why do we have so many vaccines? I mean, was chicken pox really that bad? Is it totally necessary to vaccinate against? I just can't imagine all of that medicine being good. I'm really not trying to be controversial, I'm saying this with a weary and scared mind-frame. I don't know what to do.
And if one more person asks me when my due date is, I will scream. It's one thing if it's someone at a store, a cashier for example, making small talk, but it's another thing when a secretary at work who I see every three days asks me every time I see her when my due date is. Lady, if you're not going to even try to remember, just shut up, tell me I look great, and move on. Geez.
What makes things even worse is that pretty much the only small talk conversation at work, polite work chit-chat if you will, revolves around my pregnancy. Here is the list of questions/comments, in order, of a typical conversation had about 4-5 times a day:
1) Wow you're really coming along! / Not too much longer now! / Aw look at you!
2) How much longer do you have?
(I tell them, they try doing the math)
3) So that would be... October?
(Yep, I tell them my due date. Again.)
4) Oh! So and so has a birthday October--.
(If I had kept track, I would probably have a list 100 names long of other people who have birthdays in October. People I don't even know, mind you.)
5) Do you know if you're having a boy or girl?
(I tell them. Again.)
6) Do you have names picked out?
God willing, I can be a stay at home mom for my kids. This will be great since I won't have to worry about child care and will get to raise my kids. This will be even better because the next time I get pregnant, I can stay in hiding.
Ouch. Six more weeks of being upside down? No wonder they're so freaking cranky when they first come out. Just thinking about being upside down and moving around and tossed from side to side is enough to make me want to throw up.
Not that I think celebrity "news" needs anymore attention or is necessarily blog-worthy, but it is really interesting, since I've been pregnant and especially during the first few months, how annoyed I get when another celebrity releases the "news" that they are pregnant. I get jealous! I'm like, "Ah, yah, I'm pregnant too. I was pregnant first! Look at me, not Ashlee Simpson!" It feels like they are stealing my thunder. Minnie Driver said that she was pregnant days after me and I literally read the article thinking. "Join the club, like it's even big news now. Didn't you hear? I told everyone last week. Sorry toots."
However, now that I'm closer to my due date, it feels more like a buddy of mine just had their baby and I get kinda proud of them. Gwen, for example, we've been "pregnancy buddies" for months now and instead of getting jealous of her attention, I'm like, "Way to go! That must mean I'm next!"
Now we'll just have to see whose baby is cuter...
What's even funnier about their best bud-ness is how, after my and Tucker's morning routine of letting him outside and eating breakfast, he wants to go back upstairs immediately to see if Skip is awake. After breakfast, Tucker waits at the door to our bedroom, maybe even poking the knob with his nose, for me to open it up so he can bolt upstairs and see if his buddy is up yet and if he maybe wants to pet him a little bit. Since Tucker always beats me upstairs, I can tell by watching him if Skip is up yet. Tucker gets to the top of the stairs, looks over to the bed, and if Skip is awake, he puts his ears and head down in excitement and wags his tail so hard his butt shakes and prances right over to him to get some pets . If he's still asleep, Tucker just kind of walks back over to his corner with his blanket and goes back to sleep.
It should be noted that Skip always pets Tucker, and pets him good and for a good length of time, regardless of what he's wearing, so that he usually ends up covered in Tucker hair. I, on the other hand, don't pet him as much if I'm about to leave for work or don't feel like dusting myself off afterwards. Tucker must have noticed...
Skip asked me the other day, "If we have another girl, can we at least keep getting boy dogs?"
I also have three baby showers and my birthing class this month, and I begin going to the doctor every 2 weeks instead of once a month. My back hurts, I'm tired, and my maternity clothes are starting to fit a little bit tighter.
Welcome to the last trimester.
I'm not even a mom yet, and I already gave my first piece of advice. A childhood friend of mine is 13 weeks pregnant, and we were together over the fourth of July. It was a potluck dinner, and I was on round two of side dishes. She said to me, "Kate how many trips is this for you?" Meaning, how many times have you been back for seconds? She was kidding, and I knew it. I also knew that she was on round two or three herself. So I laughed and said, "Oh, you just wait. You'll see..."
I've become what I've always hated!! Not only do I hate the advice and constant talk about my pregnancy, but I hate when someone says "You just wait" to me! Now, in my defense, I meant, "You just wait until you're farther along" and most often when people tell me that phrase they are referencing my soon to be had lack of sleep or how much my life will change (no duh, and no shit). But still! (Ugh, on that note, let me just say, never ever tell a pregnant woman that her life is about to change. You don't think I know that?? Shut UP!)
Perhaps this advice-giving is part of the maternal instinct? I don't know, but from here on out, I promise to only say nice things and words of encouragement to new or soon to be moms. And if you guys knew how grumpy and irritable I am these days, you'll take my advice, too. :)
(Oh, haha, I just did it again. I told you to take my advice when I just told you not to give it. I think that's irony. Also, as a sort of PS, this pregnancy is making me dumber by the day. Can't you tell by this all-over-the-place blog?)
So instead of going out back after I get home from work, sometimes Tucker will join me in the front yard as I get the mail. He pees on the big tree in front, and comes right back inside. He'd rather just hang out with you than walk around by himself out back. Fair enough. Yesterday, same old, I go out to get the mail, and Tucker joins me. He goes out to pee on the tree, and the next thing I know I hear him scrambling fast, like he's chasing something. At first I get scared that he's about to run into the street, but then my worries stop as he's no longer running into the street, but he's caught something, has it in his mouth, and is running to the back fence gate so he can go out back and play with whatever he caught.
I'm almost 6 months pregnant, and I'm standing in the front yard, screaming at my dog, "Tucker, no!!" I run to the backyard to follow him, and see him just as he drops the poor thing he caught. A little grey baby bunny. No bigger than my hand. "Tucker stop!" But too late, he was already chasing after it again and caught it, again. The little thing almost got through the slats in the fence but it was just a little bit too big. Tucker caught the bunny again and was holding it in his mouth. Now I've got him by the collar and the scruff of his neck screaming "Drop it!! Tucker drop it!" He does, and it lays still where it lands. It takes all my might to keep Tucker from grabbing it again, and I drag him into the house and close the door. I go back to check on the little baby bunny. She is breathing really fast, and she's lying still, I tell myself she's just getting her bearings back, by the time I come back, she'll be gone.
I go inside to call Skip who is still at work. At this point, it's still kind of funny to me. My heart is pounding and Tucker is looking very proud of himself. I call Skip and tell him the story, and, while I have him on the phone, I go outside to check on the bunny. She's still there, except now I can see she is trying to get up. She is nudging her head and moving all of her legs, but something won't let her get up. She rolls over onto her side.
Enter pregnant Kate. I start crying. Hard. Poor little thing, she's trying so hard to get up. I don't know what to do, should I kill her and put her out of her misery? No way, I can't kill her. I'm too pregnant and emotional. It was hard enough killing gross little moles that Tucker had half-killed, no way can I kill a sweet little baby bunny. Skip won't be home for a couple hours. Should I call my dad to come do it? What if my neighbor's dog comes outside and gets a hold of her? Where was that bunny's mother? I start crying even harder. I decide to just go back inside and try to stop crying.
I've given myself a huge headache at this point, and I'm not speaking to Tucker. I go out a little bit later, and the baby bunny is dead. I don't know if Tucker broke her back, or punctured something internally, or just gave her a heart attack, but now she's dead and still. Poor baby bunny. I get very sad again, but leave to go run errands. Skip comes home while I am gone and takes care of the poor little baby bunny. I was too sad the rest of the night.
I gave Tucker a very stern talking to about picking on things his own size. I know he's a dog and he was following his instinct, but he needs to learn the lesson about fair fights. That little bunny didn't stand a chance. If Tucker catches a full grown adult bunny, that's one thing, but poor little baby animals aren't fast enough. It would be like me picking on a hamster.
I couldn't believe how upset I got. I've been weepy a lot lately. These pregnancy hormones are killing me.
I'm starting to hear this more and more often. It's a strange phenomenon because, really, they're telling me I'm getting fatter. That's what happens first, mostly, when you get pregnant, you just look and feel fat before you really look and feel pregnant. Which is exactly where I am right now. But, instead of it being an all-over weight gain, it's mostly just my tummy and my sides. I mean, yeah I've gained some weight everywhere else (ahem, butt), but noticeably in my stomach. Which is why I'm hearing the "showing" statements.
It's funny because it's confusing. It's hard to know what to think. Someone just told me they can see that my stomach is bigger. Until now, I could only relate that kind of comment to some serious weight gain and I need to hit the treadmill. But now I think, oh, riiiight... not my fault! Nope, I am totally gaining this weight through no efforts of my own. Ok, so I didn't need those Doritos. But mostly it's just my kid getting bigger, and how can I help that?! (By the by, he or she is the size of an avacado now... mm, avacado.)
I can't! Bring on the Doritos!
My mom's blog is funny, silly, and about her new dog, Sonny. Well, it's partly about him. He's a very goofy dog, and in his big puppy phase, and entertaining to read about. He's a yellow lab who looks very much like my buddy, Tucker. My mum is a dog lover, through and through, and she's a really good writer and also she's my mom! I bet your mom doesn't have a blog!
The other blog I'm excited to tell you about is Betsy's! Or The Bets for short. Betsy is a marathon runner who is posting funny blogs about the people she meets and things she thinks about while running. For example, what flavor Popsicle would I be? If I was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, I would probably be... And, my favorite, why is this dog following me? Why hasn't he gotten squashed by a car yet? Her blog is titled Bubba Loves to Run because she has an inner fat kid she named Bubba. You may also remember that Betsy just happened to make authorized meals for Girl's Night while I was still doing BFL.
Betsy and my Mom are also both amazing cooks. I want to be like them one day.
I hope you enjoy. I'm linking them up under my "Bloggers That I Love" list to your right! Enjoy!
Has anyone seen this recent study on lemon slices served in drinks at restaurants? You know, in your iced tea, you request it for your Diet Coke, some places just put a lemon slice in your water without asking. It's an article worth reading. Here is a little "taste" (no pun intended) of what the article discussed:
"A total of 25 different types of germs were found on 53 out of the 76 lemons that were sampled. Some were fecal in origin (either from dirty fingertips of the restaurant employees, or from meat-contaminated cutting boards and knives), while others were types commonly found in saliva, on the skin and in the environment."
The other night (I'm 26 now), I walk in to the gym and see three kids on the treadmills. I immediately got pissed. It was 7 o'clock on a Tuesday, the place was packed with guys in jeans (yes, jeans) lifting weights, older ladies getting out of aerobics class, and people in general just working out. Between the kids on the treadmill was an older woman, I'm guessing she was their mom.
By the time I got out of the locker room, the kids and mom were off the treadmill and onto the weight machines. I get on my elliptical and zone out. I catch glimpses of the family as they move around the gym. Granted, these kids were better behaved than a lot of the kids I usually see at the gym. Fifteen year olds walking at about 2mph on a treadmill talking on their cell phone. Girls, soaking wet from the pool in their shorts and t-shirts, running around giggling and playing on the machines.
The kids this night were working out with their folks. The boy did leg presses with his dad. The girl watched quietly. As they were walking out, I saw that it was a family of five, just like mine was. The oldest boy was probably the only one over 12. All of them were overweight. The little girl, maybe 8 or 9, had little chubby rolls at her sides. Same for her younger brother.
Before I left the gym, I noticed the "No one under 12..." sign was not up anymore. I wonder how long it's been down.
At least, that was my experience.
I was at the gym one night running on a treadmill. It was pretty quiet, so I decided to run on one of the treadmills closest to the TV. It was while I was still on BFL and my iPod was still broken and had not been replaced. Thankfully, I only had to do 20 minutes of cardio.
She gets on the treadmill directly next to me, even though there is no one on any treadmill. Ok, I think, she wants to be able to watch TV, too. Great. The news is on, and they are talking about certain churches being demanded to show proof of exactly how they are spending the millions of dollars they are bringing in, and some churches either will not show proof that their money is going towards reputable causes, or they can't.
She starts talking. And talking. Voicing her opinion loudly. To me. At first I think, ok, fine, I'll make idle chit chat, and then she'll see that I'm not totally interested and stop talking to me. It happens all the time at the gym. You get on a treadmill, maybe make some small talk to the person next to you, then shut up and get on with your workout.
She does not stop talking. I finally stop pretending to even be listening and this lady does not shut up. And it's embarassing. It's one thing to talk about your day or something, but this lady is ranting and raving about churches having to prove how they spend their money and why don't super star athletes have to do the same thing. There are people behind us on the stationary bikes. I hope they don't think I agree with her statements. Or they at least see how annoyed I am.
I have since steered clear of her at all costs. I see her talking to someone constantly. I feel sorry for whoever gets stuck next to her on any of the cardio equipment. If anything, I make sure to leave my earbuds in my ears so she thinks I can't hear her if I see her in the locker room or something. Unforunately, she caught me the other day in the locker room. I thought I was safe because she was on the other side of the lockers, but she caught me in the mirror. There was no one else in there.
"What time do the polls close today?" she asked.
"I really don't know," I say, and hightail it out of there.
I think I am committing the #1 cardinal sin of beginner runners: I'm doing too much too soon. When I started doing the 12 week training program, it had a little "demo" week (totalling about 19 miles) that I should be able to run comfortably for 4-5 weeks before starting this program. I can't run that much. Also, when I run on the treadmill, I think I have the speed set too high. I need to run a little slower.
So, I'm backing off the miles a little bit. I'm sort of meshing together two training programs that I've seen. Both have me running close to the same amount of miles in a week, but one schedule has 3 rest days scheduled instead of just 2. So I'm compromising and running at least one recovery or easy run in the middle of the week.
I think if I can build up my long run to 10 miles, I will be fine on the day of the half marathon. So, along with my husband (a longtime runner and track and cross country coach), I am tweaking my running schedule just a bit.
My leg dies more often towards the end of my running week. I want to stick to the schedule, but I also don't want to hurt myself. This is very tricky.
This running stuff is crazy! I ran outside yesterday for the first time, as you know, and my legs are freaking killing me. My quadriceps are killing me and my knees are a little sore, along with my hips.
Thanks a lot.
Screw BFL, this running stuff is crazy! I hurt way worse after my third day of training than I have all 12 weeks of BFL.
But don't worry about me. This is all part of it. Yes, I have good shoes. No, I'm not doing more than I can handle. The run last night was actually really nice, and running four miles wasn't really a problem, it was the cold and dark that was hardest to work through.
The good news is, I'm still really excited about training! I super stoked for warmer weather, longer days, and longer runs!
A fartlek is essentially a speed interval that can, for a beginning runner, last anywhere from 30 seconds to 3 minutes. An advanced runner might have 20-30 minute fartlek intervals.
I ran four miles last night! It was my "fartlek" day and I'm happy to say I made it through alive.
One thing I'm kind of worried about is that right now I'm running on a treadmill. Which is ok, but not great. I ran four miles last night at a controlled pace at a controlled incline. If I had to run four miles outside in the cold with hills and slopes, I don't know if I would have been able to do it. But when I get home from work, it's starting to get dark.
Mostly I think I just need to take the time to map out a course or two around town. I just don't like the idea of running outside in the dark. There aren't a lot of streetlights around town unless I stay on main roads. When I run on those roads, I get honked and hooted at so by the time I'm done with what should be a stress-relieving run I'm actually really annoyed and I just want to catch up with the honkers and shove their heads through a car window.
Today is my rest day!
Mondays and Fridays are my rest days from running. So my day today consists of me doing absolutely nothing. Tough, I know. But tomorrow I start off with a cool 4 mile run that makes me a little bit scared. And eventually I want to start lifting some weight too, but I don't want to exhaust myself or my body and possibly get hurt. It's going to be a bit of a tango figuring out how to train for the half, but I'm ready for it.
Today I do, however, start eating the BFL way again. Bummer. It's okay though, I said goodbye to my days off by eating at Red Robin last night. I had a cheeseburger with bacon and a fried egg on top! Delish, but I think my heart is a little mad at me today.
So! That being said. I'm very ready to get back on some kind of 12 week program. Not 12 step, 12 week. My half marathon training starts on Monday, and I plan on starting to eat the BFL way again too.
Here is my concern with the half marathon training: I have to run 13.1 miles! I have to be even more diligent with my training. What I mean is, with BFL, if I couldn't work out one or two days it was like no big deal. With the half marathon, if I don't run for a couple days, I could really screw myself. This isn't just "I want to get back in shape," this is "If I don't run on a schedule and do what they say, I could really hurt myself. Really." 13.1 miles!
So, pray for me, people. I feel like this half marathon will be a really great challenge and a step up from BFL. I'm excited! I'm also ready to get back in the gym and grocery store and out of McDonald's.