Mile 20 (Week 33)

Holy shitballs; the race has begun:  the 20-mile mark.  Where is that damn finish line already?  My feet feel like they are going to bust out of my sneakers, I'm tired, I'm bitchy (no seriously, stay the hell away), and if I try and stretch my achy legs, everything cramps.  Oh, and one note to all you spectators...what the heyull are you staring at?   I mean, you've obviously seen other marathoners before.  You know, your mom was a marathoner many years ago; how do you think she felt when people stared at her like an alien?  Keep it up, and I might unleash all my GI issues on you...

So, do you know what every pregnant woman's fantasy is?  THANKSGIVING.  Aww yeah, baby.  A day of eating everything in sight, no holds barred, GET. IT. ON.  They should rename the holiday to Thank-a-Preggo.  Seriously.  Having one of us at the table will make you feel so much better about how much you ate because chances are WE JUST HOUSED YOU.  I also discovered on Thanksgiving that I have officially reached "tent" status.  Yep, I put on a maternity dress, thinking I looked all sexy and whatnot, until I saw a picture of myself.  Yeah, no, I looked like a tent.  I always said I would never be the pregnant lady that holds the bottom of her belly all the time, but I get it now.  I plan to not let go for the next 6 or 7 weeks, as it totally reduces the tent-age.  See, look: 

Scary Tent Lady

 Semi-normal Beer Gut Lady

Mmk, so pregnancy stats update:

Spud's Vitals: 

*Chunky boy has now been nicknamed "Bubba" by our doctor.  He is still measuring large-and-in-charge and staying consistent in his growth each week.  May the labor and delivery gods be with me on game day...

Pregnancy Gains: 

* 24 pounds.  I have nothing else to say.  It's like I swallowed the whole, damn turkey and forgot to chew.

* Cholesterol.  252...WTF?  Never have I ever.  The boy has now eaten all my iron and protein, leaving me with nothing but high cholesterol.   The doc says it is normal; I say Spud is expecting a steak dinner once he pops out.

* Wine club of the month membership flyers.  Is this a joke?  I get them in the mail, like, everyday.  If I ever find the person in charge of sending me these, I WILL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF.

* Speaking of ripping things, I bent over the other day, and my pants ripped right up the a$$-crack.  Let me tell ya; you haven't quite lived until you've ripped your pants up the a$$-crack. 

Pregnancy Losses:

* My belly button.  The tent ate it.

* Willpower.  I couldn't decide if I wanted a bowl of cereal, pop tarts, or a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast this morning.  So, I ate all three.  Thank-a-Preggo should really be a week-long celebration anyway.

* Yep, the brain is still nowhere to be found.  When you come home from work, where do you put your keys?  Perhaps on the counter, a rack, or some sort of tray maybe?  Well, I buried mine in a plant in the kitchen.  Cuz, ya know, that's where they belong.

* Sleep.  Picture the scene:  You and your hubby buy a new, albeit decrepit, house.  Your parents come to visit and obviously hate the house, so you decide to walk into town instead.  However, the sidewalks are filled with oil slicks, and you fall, leaving your legs blackened and greasy.  So, you go back to the awful house, where Will Smith is waiting for you to play hide-and-seek, except this is hide-and-seek with lifelines, like those in "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire."  You lose the game when you try to "phone a friend" to find Will, and he then feels threatened, pulling out one of his alien guns from "Men in Black"... 

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHY THE HELL I WOULD DREAM THIS??

* Unfortunately, running.  I made it to 31 weeks, and there were just too many odd pains that I felt comfortable pushing through.  Spud takes priority.  Looks like it will be prancercizing for me from now on.  Okay, no. 

I just realized something pretty awesome...the next time I write a blog post,

I WILL BE A MOM!  :)  

So, despite all the unknown shitters that lie ahead in this final 10K, I can't wait!

 

  32 weeks