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Early on in my pregnancy I was convinced our baby was a boy - I just had a feeling. About halfway through, I switched gears and both Peter and I started referring to it as "she", probably because I thought I saw a hot dog bun on the 20-week ultrasound as opposed to a hot dog. Lately I've been thinking boy again. But I definitely have no clear "mother's intuition" one way or the other, probably because it's my first pregnancy. I've heard that after you have a couple you can just tell what you're carrying.

The ladies at Five Blondes have a few babies in the family now and I remembered seeing these boy-or-girl old wives' tale tests on their blog, so I did a quick search to find them and try them out for myself. These old wives' tales come from Good Finking.

Boy or Girl? 21 Old Wives’ Tales That May Tell You

Sleep Position
Pay attention to which way you lay down in bed tonight. If you prefer sleeping on your left side, you’ll have a boy. Right side? You’re pregnant with a girl.
 

Upset Stomach
Little girls aren’t always sweet. Extreme nausea means you are having a daughter.
 

Soft or Dry Hands
If your hands are dry during pregnancy, you are having a boy; soft—expect a girl.
GIRL
 

Food Cravings
Your favorite pregnancy foods may tell you what sex the baby is. If you’re craving citrus while pregnant, you’re having a girl.
 

Adult Acne
If altering hormones makes your skin break out, expect a girl.
 

Graceful or Clumsy Pregnancy
If you feel as though you’re gliding through they day, you’ll have a girl. Stumbling? It’s a boy.
 

Face Weight Gain
If your face gets fuller, it means you’re having a girl.
BOY - my face hasn't changed. 
 

Sugar and Spice Food Cravings
Craving salt during pregnancy? Potato chips, pretzels, and popcorn means a boy is on the way. Need a little something sweet? Ice cream, chocolate, and candy means you’re having a girl.
GIRL - definitely preferring sweet over salty things lately!

Mood Changes
If you’re experiencing pregnant mood-swings, expect a baby girl to arrive soon.
GIRL - I’ve been feeling cray-cray although Peter kindly tells me "You're not toooooooooo bad"


High or Low Pregnant Belly
If you’re carrying the baby low on your stomach, expect a boy. If it’s high, you’re having a girl.
BOY - I've been low all along


Baby Weight
If you’re carrying baby in front, it’s a boy. Is the baby weight spaced all around your middle? It’s a girl.
 

Pendulum Test
Dangle a chain with a charm over your palm. If it swings back and forth: boy. In a circle: girl.
 

Model Your Hands
“Show me your hands.” If you would hold your hands palms up it’s a girl. Down? You’re having a boy.
GIRL - what this has to do with anything I have no idea...
 

Toddler Advice
Get baby advice from a nephew or friend’s little boy. If a toddler boy shows interest in your belly, you’ll have a girl. If he ignores you, it’s a boy.
I have no one to try this with! So we’re going green for neutral.

Eat Garlic
Guess the baby’s sex by eating garlic. If the smell seeps out of your pores it’s a boy. If there’s no scent it’s a little girl.
 

Key to Pregnancy
If you pick up a key by the round end, you’re having a boy. If it’s by the long end? A girl.
BOY - I think??? 
 

Even and Odd Numbers
If your age and year of conception are both even or odd, it’s girl. One even, one odd means a boy.
GIRL - 29, 2011
 

Baby’s Heartbeat
If the baby’s heart beats more than 150 times per minute, you’re pregnant with a girl. Less than 150, it’s a boy.
BOY - It's been all over the place but usually in the 140s.


Stress Test
A child tends to be of the same sex as the parent who is less stressed at the time of conception.
BOY - Peter doesn't get stressed.  I'm a basket case.
 

Dream Meanings
If you dream about having a girl while pregnant, you will wind up having a boy and vice versa.
 

Breast Size
If your right breast is larger than the left while pregnant, you are having a girl. If the left is larger, it’s a baby boy.
GIRL - I guess...the nuggets are mostly the same size.

Total tally:
Girl - 10
Boy - 9

That was fun...but not helpful. Guess we'll just have to wait and see!

33 weeks & 6 days

We're 33 weeks and 6 days today; 34 weeks tomorrow. At this point, I breathe a huge sigh of relief at the end of every day that our little Houdini escape artist-wannabe stays firmly in the ute. My doctor told me that each  day the baby spends "on the inside" (which sounds like a prison term) is two fewer days they'd have to spend in the hospital if they were born early, so I'm super thankful for each day that passes without a surprise appearance from the little monster.

I've been on pins and needles this past week. Since being released from the hospital, I've left the house twice, once for a doctor's appointment and once for a prenatal class. I still hold my breath every time I go to the bathroom and don't venture too far from a couch or the bed. In the car, I silently loudly curse every pothole and bump, as if going over a rough spot is going to shake the baby right out of me. Every time my stomach tightens up (which it's been doing for weeks and weeks even before last week's shenanigans happened) I get all clenchy and start worrying and wondering, "Is this it?"even though it's happened hundreds of times already.

My doctor gave me the OK to gradually increase my activity but I'm still pretty nervous and have been a real sloth this week - definitely erring on the side of caution. I miss working out and walking the dog and just generally not feeling one ankle bracelet short of house arrest, but I'm terrified of stirring up the baby and reminding him or her of last week's diabolical Operation: Vacate Uterus plan.

The nursery is ready to go, except for our rug that's supposed to arrive this week, and our glider rocker that's coming next week. We have all the baby clothes and blankets and things washed up and put away, and when you open the nursery closet now, it smells like baby since we used Ivory Snow to wash everything. There's a lot of stuff we still need, but we have most of the big essentials taken care of.

Peter has been awesome looking after everything around the house, cleaning and errands and everything that needs to be done, and our friends and family have been amazingly supportive and helpful as well. I know plenty of moms-to-be have to go through this sort of thing alone and I'm really grateful and lucky to be surrounded by such great people.

So, another week (almost) down, who knows how many to go. Could be six; could be two or three. I'm just hoping it's not any less than that. I alternate between being excited, scared, and worried. I hope we make it to the point where I can stop worrying and just be flat-out excited to meet our little honeydew.

On the plus side? I've been wearing leggings and Pebbles buns EVERY DAY. I haven't blow-dried my hair in almost two weeks. And I've never had this much free time to read, write, watch TV and movies, and just relax since I was probably 15 years old. Silver linings!

Keep cooking, baby!

Ten on Tuesday is a weekly prompt at Roots and Rings. This week's theme is vacations.

All the time...I've used Expedia and Hotwire and both worked well for me. I'm a cheapskate and hate paying full price for everything, including travel!


I've done both and both have their perks! There's nothing like a lay-on-the-beach vacation at the end of the winter, but shorter, more action packed trips are fun. The problem with those whirlwind trips is it's easy to cock up the whole thing. Last year we went to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon for three days, which would have been perfect except I got my ass kicked in Vegas with the booziest mojitos I've ever tasted by 3:00 p.m. on our first day there and had to go sleep off a sick drunk for the rest of the day. Then I was tired and felt crappy and not at all debaucherous, so I definitely didn't get the whole Vegas experience.

I've had plenty of days where being ordered to stay in my house, wear comfy clothes, eat whatever I like, avoid working like the plague, and not get off the couch would have sounded heavenly.

In theory, it sounds awesome: who doesn't want to be under doctor's orders to pig out, watch TV and read all day? In practice, it's not so great. It's Friday at 8:30 p.m., which means I've been out of the hospital for a little over 24 hours, and I'm already going loco.

I'm not on bedrest, exactly, but I've been told to reduce my activity levels pretty drastically. I'm not allowed to go to the gym, vacuum the floor, carry anything heavy, walk the dog, travel, and so on - basically nothing that could send fetus into a tailspin and get him or her all aggravated again. I'm supposed to "take it easy" and stick close to home. I'll see my doctor on Monday afternoon, where I'll get a more specific list of do's and don'ts, but until then, I'm scared to do much more than creep off the couch to get a glass of water or have a shower.

I've been pussyfooting around all day like a 95-year-old woman-slash-George Bluth in season 2 of Arrested Development, alternating between being frustrated that I can't go anywhere and scared every time I have to go to the toilet in case the gravitational pull (TMI, I'M SO SORRY!!) reminds the baby that there is an escape hatch and prompts them to want to head out. On one hand, I don't want to be totally lazy and sedentary and feel all gross; on the other hand, I want what's best for the baby and would do anything to make sure he or she is safe and healthy even if it means three weeks of slothlike living.

Until Monday, I'll be sticking around the house and not venturing too far from the bed, couch, or toilet. In the meantime here's a list I'm starting of things to keep myself (safely) occupied until I get the green light to start being a normal human being again:

1. Read. Luckily, I love to read. I'm halfway through the second Hunger Games book right now and am loving it. My friends and hubby also brought me tons of magazines to read in the hospital too, so I have reading material for weeks! If I do run out I can send hubby to the library with my card to sign me out some new books, or maybe I'll be allowed to leave the house for quick errands so I may even be able to *gasp* choose a book for myself!

2. Netflix. What did we do before sweet, sweet Netflix? I'm making my way through Mad Men season 4, and we've almost finished Arrested Development (hence the George Bluth reference). I have some DVDs to watch too - Friday Night Lights, The Office, 90210, and last but not least, Dawson's Creek. Over the past week I've determined that daytime TV is the shits. Netflix and DVDs are where it's at.

3. Crafts. Crafts aren't overly strenuous, right? I have a front door begging for a new fall wreath, a dining room table that wants to be adorned with a new centrepiece, and a baby's room that may be lacking in a lot of the essentials but by god, it'll look cute. Until I get the all-clear to make trips to the store over the next week or so, I'll have to send Peter to Michael's with my shopping lists, which he's absolutely going to love.

I would also add "baking" to the list, but with baking comes eating, and I don't necessarily need to be cramming my face with cinnamon buns and pumpkin spice cakes when I'm not able to burn them off at the gym.

4. Pinterest. So I held out on Pinterest, because I thought it was stupid and frankly I didn't get it. Now I'm a Pinterest convert! I can easily kill an hour pinning stuff. Crafts, recipes, fashion, quotes...so so so much good stuff.

5. Play games! I love board games. I have a Nintendo DS that I can dust off for some Animal Crossing action. And while I suck at Xbox games, I do have a soft spot for Mortal Kombat.

6. Online shopping. So bad for me especially now that I'm going to be on the dole for mat leave, but I can get a jump on Christmas shopping before it becomes pandemonium.

7. On that note - set up a budget. Might as well get responsible and start tracking my smaller income carefully.

8. Organize things. Pack my hospital bag. Get all my mailing addresses, phone numbers, and email addresses in one place for birth announcements and this year's Christmas card list. Create new iPod playlists. Wash up the baby's clothes. Set up folders on my laptop for keeping photos and bills filed away. I may not be able to do any heavy lifting or cleaning but there are little things I can do to help make life easier both now and after baby arrives when I'm too exhausted to make an effort.

Any other suggestions for how I can survive my house arrest? Has anyone else been on bedrest/reduced activity - how did you get through it?

On Monday I woke up at 6:00, went to the gym and ran five miles, feeling awesome. I came home and started getting ready for work, turned on the shower, was doing my thing, and noticed a little blood, which is never a good thing, especially for moms-to-be. I called my trusty 811 and they recommended I go into a walk-in clinic to get checked out, but I decided to forgo the clinic and head straight to the hospital - in hindsight, one of my best decisions ever. I called Peter who immediately headed for home to drive me to the hospital, and called into work to let them know I'd miss our morning production meeting and that I wasn't sure about an afternoon meeting we'd had scheduled.

I figured we'd be sent home from the hospital within 15 minutes with a clean bill of health and a "these things happen" spiel. Instead, after being hooked up to a heart rate and activity monitor, I found out I was having contractions 2-4 minutes apart. At 32 weeks - waaaay too early for those sorts of shenanigans. And I wasn't even feeling anything!

My first thought was "I'm NOT ready to have this baby yet!" I was worried about totally unimportant things at first - from the shallow, insignificant fact I hadn't shaved my legs (I'd cut my shower short) to thinking about how the nursery isn't totally finished.

And then we realized that the baby's heart rate was dipping after my contractions, which led the nurses and doctor to believe the baby may be in distress. At this point I started to panic. Normally, when preterm labour starts, doctors will administer drugs right away to stop the contractions and stop labour, no problem. However, if the baby's in danger, sometimes it's better to let labour progress and have the baby right away.

My next stop was the birthing room, which was completely surreal. I got put in a johnny shirt, had an IV hooked up, and got the activity monitor strapped back on at regular intervals to track my contractions and the baby's heart rate. I tried to keep my shit together and not completely lose it and start bawling. The nurses and doctors were all wonderful, answered all my questions, and took excellent care of me and Pete, who never left my side. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything, which I realized was in case I ended up having a baby that afternoon.

I cannot explain how frightening it is, when you legitimately think you have seven or eight weeks to prepare for something, and being told it might happen that same day. Imagine getting a deadline at work or at school wrong - by eight weeks - and realizing whatever it is, is due that day. Now multiply that panic you feel by like, five million, due to the fact that this isn't a paper you need to pass in, or a client meeting you need to get ready for, but potentially bringing a baby into the world seven weeks early. That was me on Monday.

The baby had to be analyzed for overall health and size. When my stomach was measured externally, it was measuring small - adding a whole new complication (in addition to having a preterm baby, I'd also be having a baby that was extra small for his or her age). We had an ultrasound to confirm the measurements, and thankfully we found out the baby's head was just super low, which made him or her appear smaller. Our baby is actually in the 29th percentile for size for its age, and weighed 4lb 4oz on Monday. He or she also scored an 8/8 on an overall wellness test, so we knew at least if they were an early bird, they'd have a good start. I was given a shot in the bum of a steroid to help develop baby's lungs in case I went into full-fledged labour.

My cervix was checked (which is a disgusting process, btw) and was 1.9 cm dilated, so something funky was going on. I also had a swab test done to check to see whether I was at risk of going into preterm labour and it came back positive. The OB decided to start me on the drug to slow my contractions, which happened late Monday. I was so excited to hear I'd be getting the drug. I was less excited to hear it doesn't always work.

Overnight the drugs kicked in and my contractions became weaker and irregular. I spent Tuesday in the hospital receiving a lower dose of the medication, and had my last dose on Wednesday afternoon. I stayed in the hospital another 24+ hours with no medications to make sure I didn't start contracting again, and got released this afternoon, four days later.

Now that I'm home, I'm on a "reduced activity" plan until I go into labour or 36 weeks, whichever comes first (please, please, please let us make it to 36 weeks if not longer!) I'll find out for sure on Monday if I'm done work early, which also sucks and is unexpected, but as one of the nurses pointed out, having kids is alllll about dealing with the unexpected, so this is good practice. If we make it to 36 weeks, the baby is considered full term and there's no risk of delivering early, so that's the goal.

Every day the baby stays put is two fewer days he or she would need to spend in the hospital after being born, so we're hoping and praying they're content in there. Every twinge I feel, I panic. I hate the idea of bedrest and reduced activity - I despise sitting still. I hate the thought of not being able to work out or clean the house or shake my tailfeathers for the next few weeks but I hate the thought of our little one being in danger even more. We're 33 weeks today. Please hang in for at least three more weeks, baby!

And this is why I'm convinced (again) that I'm having a boy. A little girl simply wouldn't cause all this trouble. But for a bratty little boy this is typical behaviour.

I don't have a 32-week photo either. Those johnny shirts at the hospital? Not flattering.

I was excited to be asked to be a part of Downtown Halifax's Big Day Downtown promotion this year. Local bloggers were given prepaid Visa cards and asked to spend them downtown doing whatever our little hearts desired - shopping, eating, playing, whatever. The theme this year is "Try Something New" so we were asked to spend our $100 Visas on things we'd never done before.

Given my current reproductive status, I couldn't do anything too crazy for my Big Day Downtown. At first, I was super gung-ho to rent bikes for Pete and I from We Heart Bikes, but I talked myself out of it - I haven't biked in years and am clumsy at the best of times without an almost eight-month fetus attached to my body throwing off my centre of gravity. I figured a wipeout on the waterfront was not the best way to sum up my big day downtown. Clothes shopping is hard because what fits my regulation-sized basketball now is (hopefully!) not going to fit me in a couple months. And I can't go to one of the many pubs and bars in the area and tie one on, nor do I think getting tattooed is the best idea when one is with child.

I brought my hubby with me and we strolled around downtown on a sunny Sunday afternoon to get started. The first store we popped into was Oddjects on Barrington Street. I've been curious about this shop for a while but have never been in. As the name alludes, this place is a gold mine of random treasures for the home, a great place to find a unique gift for anybody on your list.

Of course we gravitated right to the children's and baby's section at the back of the store since we're trying to get our little one's nursery in order and any excuse to buy something cute sucks us right in. We found a selection of old-fashioned stick horses (and unicorns) with soft, fuzzy heads. When you squeeze the horse's ear, it makes clip-clop noises and whinnies! Both Pete and I grew up with horses, but because I don't think the city would take too kindly to us pasturing ponies in our backyard, this will have to do for our baby. The stick horse set us back $25.00 plus tax.




We spent some more time browsing around, including stops at Biscuit, Attica, the Summit Shop and DeSerres, but before I had a chance to spend any more moolah we had to get a move on. I agreed to plan a date night for later in the week for us to try something new downtown.

Fast forward to Wednesday when we headed back downtown after work for a nice dinner date - gotta take advantage of these before we need a babysitter. I chose Cafe Chianti on Barrington Street, where neither of us has been. The restaurant was recommended by a few friends and did not disappoint! We got a basket of warm, fresh bread with butter to start, split the calamari appetizer, and both ordered pasta for our main courses. I had the butternut squash gnocchi and Peter got the chicken ravioli. Both our meals were generously portioned and delicious and we were too stuffed for dessert.

We stuck with water (not being able to drink makes our restaurant bills so much cheaper!) With the appetizer, two meals, tax and tip our meal came to around $70 - very reasonable for a great meal in a lovely setting. They had a lot of vegetarian options on the menu, and I assume vegan options are doable as well, since the staff were very accommodating and attentive. I'd also like to go back for lunch as there's a pretty extensive lunch menu including lunch-size pastas and pizzas.

Thanks again, Downtown Halifax, for the Big Day Downtown promotion! We got to check out some new spots around town, do some shopping and enjoy a terrific meal. Next year will be a different story: beer, bikes and tattoos.

Here we are at 31 1/2 weeks. We have about eight weeks until d-day. Less than two months. Cue hysterics.

This morning, I had my first belly rub from a stranger. I'm at the gym, wearing my gross "All Sweat, No Regret" t-shirt complete with pit stains (which is SATURATED with sweat BTW) and plugging away on the StairMaster while listening to Girl Talk (best gym music hands down = ALL DAY), when one of the morning gym geriatrics materializes beside me. I pull my headphones out.

"When are you due?" she asks, while rubbing my sweaty, swollen belly.

I was so taken aback I didn't realize until afterward that I had been violated. "Uhhh, early November..." I stammered.

"He's gonna come out running!" she announced, chuckled at her little joke and shuffled off to the bathroom.

So, so weird. I'm not a big touchy-feely person anyway, and to have my stomach felt up BY A STRANGER, WHILE WORKING OUT first thing in the morning is right up there with the oddest experiences I've encountered. I really don't mind friends and family getting all up in my business but old women who I've never said hi to before? It's a bit personal, yanno?

Running is starting to get harder, due to the baby growing and taking up some of the space that used to be occupied by my lungs. I get winded more easily and have to slow down the pace a bit so I have been running between 9:40-9:30 for the most part (I normally like to stay under a 9-minute mile for 45 minutes or longer). But that's OK! I'm happy I'm still feeling well enough to stay active, so slowing down a bit doesn't bother me at all. I've started doing Pilates once a week in addition to going to the gym for cardio and weights, and I don't hate it. It makes me feel stretchy and flexible. The weather has been beautiful as well, so we've had lots of after-dinner walks with the dog, a nice way to wind down at the end of the day.

The baby's active all the time. It actually surprises me how much he or she moves around and how strong they're getting. It gets the hiccups a lot and responds to things like hot or cold drinks, music and bright lights.

On a slightly more emo note, I feel like a lot of my friends have pretty much disappeared lately.

I know that reproduction is not everyone's cup of tea. I understand and I have felt the same way. However, what I've come to realize is this - if you have a friend who is pregnant, here's some advice: she needs your friendship right now. Now is not the time to ditch her. She already feels like a cumbersome whale. She knows she's a drag because she can't drink or frolic or stay up past 9:00 p.m. She's also legitimately afraid that when the baby comes she's going to be completely isolated and will spend the next five years sitting in her house staring at her child and forgetting to get dressed or how to have adult conversations.

It's just a drag, going through all this stuff and having no one to vent and share it with other than your husband, your mom, and the handful of people who stay in touch.

And not only that - I feel like I'm totally out of the loop with what's going on with other people. There's this weird misconception that when you get knocked up you can only think and talk about your baby. This is not the case. I might not be able to drink and swing from the rafters but I can still do a lot of things: talk, listen, eat dinner, go for coffee, go for a walk, go to a movie, go shopping...pretty much everything except drinking and swinging from the rafters. I try to be careful not to go on and on about the baby (contrary to how it may look from reading this blog) because I don't want to freak people out with baby talk 24/7. I usually don't bring it up until I'm asked.

So yes...the case of the disappearing friends has been a bit sads-inducing.

ANYWAY!

Eight and a half weeks to go. Woot woot, etc.

[/waaaambulance]

Edit - Sooo I just re-read this post and realized I sound quite like a pathetic whiner. I'm sorry! I can blame hormones, right? And prego brain and stress? 


Also, it should be noted that most of my friends - a huge vast majority - are lovely. It's also a crazy busy time for everybody, myself included, so I should just relax and not worry and not take things personally and feel secure in knowing I won't be abandoned in my house after November. 


Right? Right. 


I'm glad we had this little chat. Blogging = cheaper than therapy and less harmful to the baby than drinking. 

I used to get excited about things like Caribbean vacations, ponies, long weekends jam packed with parties, and Coach bags.

These days, two of the things I'm most excited for I'm also the most embarrassed about, and yet I'm posting about them on the Internet. Because I'm JUST. SO. EXCITED!

Thing #1: The Weekend with No Plans

This coming weekend, I have no plans (see what I did there, with the foreshadowing from the line above?) Correction: I have plans, and they revolve around things like cleaning the house, organizing the nursery closet, planting some new flowers in my flower boxes, getting an oil change, maybe doing a craft, making some lasagna, watching TV, walking the dog...basically, leaving the house as little as possible and not doing anything remotely exciting.

I don't know if this is considered "nesting". I call it "getting my shit together". Whatever it is, is it sad that I'm looking forward to doing it? Please don't feel compelled to answer.

Thing #2: The Home Organization Binder


A few weeks ago, this post inspired me to check out the Just Mommies Home Organization Plan (yeah, I know, the name "Just Mommies" is gag worthy and if the word "mommy" was taken out of circulation rightthissecond it would still be eons too late). But trust me: This plan is awesome. It assigns you daily, weekly, and monthly tasks to keep your home clean and organized, and there are regular catch-up days in case you do let some of your tasks slide. Right now, we operate on a let-it-go-until-we-can't-stand-it cleaning schedule, where there are dog fur tumbleweeds rolling across the floor and we've both been going commando for a week because there's no clean underwear left. This plan has you completing a few items every day, so your house is in a constant state of niceness, and nothing gets out of hand.

Some people can just keep their houses spotless with apparently zero effort. I am not one of those people. I enjoy cleaning, but I need a checklist to keep me on task and to help me keep track of what's done and what's left to do - to-do lists are a huge part of my job and now, I guess, my personal life. Hold me.

So I'm taking it one step further and started putting together a home organization binder. I KNOW, RIGHT? WHO AM I. This binder will keep track of my cleaning schedules, menu planning for the coming weeks, grocery lists, monthly calendars with important dates that are coming up (car inspections and maintenance, birthdays, anniversaries, appointments), Christmas shopping/card lists, mailing addresses, etc.

And for the past several months we've already gotten into the habit of saving all our receipts, bills, bank statements, and so on, all organized into folders with labels like House, Baby, Cars, Bank, and so on.

The thought of having an organized and clean house, never sending a late birthday card again, and not having to scrounge around for dinner ingredients at 7:00 PM and then saying "F it" and getting Swiss Chalet delivered makes me bounce up and down in my chair and clap my hands with uncharacteristic housewifey glee.

I don't know if this is just a temporary phase, a desperate attempt to get my ass in gear before the baby arrives and everything goes to hell in a handbasket, or if the unimaginable Best Thing Ever has happened and I am actually becoming Martha Stewart without the prison record. Only time will tell.

How do you stay organized at home? Do you have a 'system' for staying on top of things - what works for you? 

30 weeks - 31 in one day!

Here's our (very blurry) 30-week picture - 30 weeks and six days, to be exact. We had our monthly checkup yesterday morning - the last of our monthly checkups. They're now switching to every two weeks. So far, all is well in babyland. The baby weighs about three pounds and its head is facing down, its bum is on the right, and footies are on the left. I had thought the bum-bump was its head, so I feel a little bit better now because I've been feeling bad about sleeping on my right side, worrying that I've been putting the poor little thing on its head for hours, soo this comes as a relief.

Physically I feel great and I have no complaints at all. Emotionally I'm a bit of a wreck. We have two months to go. TWO MONTHS. Cycle 17 of America's Next Top Model will still be on and we'll have a baby. I have purchased dairy products with expiry dates that are after my due date. I could be drinking the same coffee creamer I had for breakfast today when I'm a mother, and I won't even get food poisoning. This is not OK. I've never been so excited yet scared for anything, ever.

Staying asleep is starting to become a bit of a thing, in that it never happens for more than a couple hours. Last week Peter brought me a body pillow to help me sleep more comfortably, and it's been a huge help, except it creates this kind of puffy brick wall barrier between us in the bed. Rolling over is a bit of a production where I wake up, decide I want to actually roll over, heft the pillow over myself and then grunt and heave myself over to the other side. Sexy. When I sleep it's this weird straddling/cuddling of the pillow. I can't even see my husband on the other side. I'm going to name the pillow Peter 2. Or Al the Alligator. One of the books I've been reading, The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy, likens rolling over late in pregnancy with a body pillow as wrestling an alligator. She's right! I've never wrestled an alligator but I can only assume this is exactly the same.

Here are some other random tidbits from the past week:

Very scientific and to-scale drawing to show you how the baby is positioned.

-A (presumably) homeless man congratulated me yesterday, which I thought was pretty sweet. At least it was nice in comparison to the douche-lord at Starbucks two minutes earlier, who, the split second I closed my laptop, raced over to my table and asked "Are you leaving?" and then hovered while I packed away my computer and power cord, notebook, phone and water bottle. Seriously, guy. Fuck off somewhere with your frappuccino while I get my act together and waddle out of here.

-The Eddie Bauer Soothing Comfort Playard was designed to make new parents cry, sit on the floor and question their ability to raise a child when they can't even fold up a playpen successfully. "How was ALL THIS in THAT box??" I wailed. More than once. Soothing comfort? Maybe for baby. Not for us.

-I was practicing putting a stuffed bear into our carseat and if it were a real baby I'd have dislocated his/her arms and potentially crushed his penis (if baby is, in fact, of the penised variety).

-Out for a walk with Pete and the dog last night a car full of hooligans drove by and some 16-year-old screamed out the window at us, "You know that's my kid, right?" Stay classy, Sackville!

It's writing prompt day at Mama Kat's. Today's prompt is to list your top 10 rules for airplane etiquette.

Just 10?! I could write a book on airplane etiquette; a bible, if you will. Let's not beat around the bush: flying sucks and squirrelly behaviour from Joe Public makes it worse. If everyone behaved themselves, flying could possibly be tolerable, civilized even. As it is, flying is barbaric. There is really nothing glamourous about flying anymore. The whole experience is humiliating, from getting patted down barefoot at airport security to being chastised about your seat position by a snotty stewardess. Here are some tips to make flying the "friendly" skies a little less painful.

1. Don't attempt to strike up a conversation with your seatmate if they're obviously just not that into you. Hints: headphones in, working on a laptop, reading - they don't want to chat. Just smile, say hi, and let them be. I hate making conversation on airplanes and have faked sleep to get out of these awkward exchanges.

2. Sleeping with strangers is one thing. Sleeping ON strangers is quite another. Hey-oh! If you're going to nod off, make sure your head isn't lolling over onto your neighbour's shoulder. Drooling on the chest of someone whose first name you don't even know may be OK for the Jersey Shore cast but it's not OK for the rest of us.

3. Don't poop on the plane. I KNOW, sometimes nature calls. Sometimes you're flying across the globe and you can't really hold it. I'm proud that I have never had to poop on a plane, and it's not just because I'm a girl and girls don't poop. Think of the rest of the people using that tiny bathroom! Think of the poor folks in the back rows! Think of them and hold it.

4. Don't dig your nails into your seatmate's arm. This happened to me during a bumpy landing in Saskatchewan. The old lady beside me actually inserted her fingernails into my forearm. Once we were safely on the ground, she removed her talons, looked at the five little half-moons that were now cut into my skin and oozing blood, patted my arm and smiled. Meanwhile I'm walking around with a scar that looks like a vampire bite, a permanent reminder of Grandma's trip to Regina.

5. Don't hog both armrests. You get one. Do not get into your neighbour's bubble!!

6. You know you're going to have to take off your shoes and belts at security. Do everyone a favour and wear things that slip on and off easily. Now is not the time for knee-high hooker boots with 18 buckles. Flats, Toms, even pumps that slide on and off easily are perfect - don't hold up the line while you remove your S&M garb. Same thing goes for your laptops, Blackberries, iPods and whatever other electronics you're packing. We get it - you're busy and important - so unpack your shit and have it ready to go through the scanner.

7. When you do get on the plane, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD FIND YOUR DAMN SEAT AND PUT YOUR BAG AWAY AND SIT THE F DOWN. Why does it take so long to board a plane? I'm not sure what people do. They find their seat and stand their with their bags and readjust them in the overhead bins for 10 minutes. People just looooove standing in the aisles for whatever reason. It's simple! Put the bag in the slot and sit down!

8. Do not let your kids run wild around the plane. This is a vehicle, not McDonald's Play Place. And nobody needs to use the bathroom six times in one hour. If you do, you should be hooked up to an IV in the hospital. My aunt used to give her kids "Christmas Pills" on Christmas eve to get them to go to sleep (it was Gravol...shhhh). Might I suggest "airplane pills" to encourage the little darlings to snooze through the flight? Yes, I am advocating drugging your kid before you travel. Yes, I fully plan on doing this myself. Call child services. Go ahead punk, make my day.

9. Ahh, boarding time. You know how, at the airport, they call for everybody who needs assistance first and you look at your gate and realize that three-quarters of the plane is lined up for "assistance"? Unless you're actually in a wheelchair or on crutches or have more kids in tow than you have limbs, sit down until they call your rows. You can jump up and be an early bird in the lineup all you like and guess what? You aren't getting on that plane any sooner. Have fun standing in line with your dorky little carryons like a bunch of unruly kindergarteners while the smart people are lounging comfortably in chairs with magazines and Starbucks waiting for you fools to get yourselves organized.

10. Don't poop on the plane. It's important enough to mention twice. Go at the airport. Anticipate these things.

Bon Voyage!