Jake and I have deposited ourselves in Fredericksburg and have begun the wait for the newest logger. If she follows in Jake's footsteps she'll be arriving exactly three weeks from today.
We spent the morning bumbling around town. I dropped Jake off with a friend and continued to an OB appointment where I found that I'm measuring a little bit too small, which probably only means that baby's just nestled in nice and low, but I will be getting an Ultrasound on Wednesday just to make sure that is indeed the case and that my fluid levels are good and baby is beefy. I really don't want to be induced...so hopefully it will only show good things. We then accompanied my friend to toddler time at the library where Jake was about .01% engaged with the designated activities.
We went to toddler time at our library in LA once. Jake threw a fit when I made him leave the basketball court for the event. We both sat through the whole thing shell-shocked because we'd never seen so many toddlers in one place. The craft was edible, and my granola-heart almost stopped beating. I try to be cool in situations like that - and I usually am. I've resigned myself to the fact that my kids will eat whatever they want at their friends' houses, and I'm totally fine with that. I know their friends will find our eating habits absurd. I can roll with this. It doesn't bother me that my kid will be the one with homemade fruit leather in his school lunch and not have near the bargaining power of little Sophie with her gushers and soda. But seriously, library people, you're supposed to be some sort of beacon of hope for the next generation, not just another place where they get pretzels and chocolate teddy grahams and marshmallow paste. Thankfully Jake didn't realize any of it was food, and I wasn't enlightening him, so we made it out unscathed. I couldn't pull that stuff today. He's too worldly. But the Fredericksburg Library didn't try to feed my child anything so this library time got a pass.
While we're talking crunchy. My mom mentioned to me that she wanted us to start a ginger bug while I was here, and I almost knocked her over to get the grater. Because. Seriously. My mother wants to harvest wild yeasts with me! Voluntarily! I just about skipped around the kitchen (but then I didn't because women who are two hours shy of full term are not the ones who get to do that with a younger brother in the room and live it down.)
Full term. Full term. I'm welcoming its advent accordingly.
The chocolate didn't make it into the pic. But it should've. In this mama's book full term marks the end of weight gain, because as far as I'm concerned the rest of the weight I gain in this pregnancy doesn't count. Here's to not looking at the scale for the next 3ish weeks! Or the 6ish weeks after that!
Though this little lady has me pushing numbers on the scale I've never seen the likes of, I'm pretty impressed that the skin on my belly seems relatively unimpressed by the whole affair. Last pregnancy my skin felt SO stretched the whole time. I remember looking down at my 5-months-pregnant stomach and thinking "ain't no way!": I was
stretched to capacity. But the body does what it do and kept right on
making room for little person.
This time around I'm sitting at 37 weeks and my skin's like "Bring it. I SO got this!"
Alright. My diaper laundry is done, so I'm going to bed and trying not to stress about what news Wednesday's ultrasound will bring...this shouldn't be too hard because good ole Doctor Dad took one look at my stomach this evening and with 3000+ prenatals under his belt said: "No way that baby is too small."
You're welcome for all the profound thoughts here compiled. Good night.