Kevin and I went to visit baby Quinn in the hospital this weekend. I had forgotten how tiny they start out. After hanging around with that chunker Daniel for the last year, I was slightly startled to hold a mere 8 lbs of baby in my arms. He was all soft and smelled like baby. Yum.

Carla sent me this picture so you can see for yourself how cute he is.

I’ve finally begun to feel better (or at least normal) and I hardly know what to do with myself. The last few weeks have consisted of lying comatosed on the sofa holding my stomach. Now, suddenly, I’m able to walk around and be a functional human being again. I think this is some ploy by the McNugget. I bet you it’s just winding up for the next big punch.

The depressing part is that there is so much stuff to do! Since I haven’t been on my feet it seems like everything has gone to pot on me. Every room is in a mild state of disaster; ever project half finished and strewn about the house. I’m still looking for some motivation to get my butt in gear but I was just starting to enjoy to life as a couch potato. Sigh, ain’t life tough?

Yes, that’s right, Anna & Todd welcomed baby Quinn Thomas into the world this morning. How cool is that, a Valentine’s Day baby?!?! All are doing well and recovering nicely I’m told.

After all this baby excitement, I’ve decided I don’t want to wait 6 more months. I feel like I’ve fully experienced the whole pregnacy kick and I’m ready to move on to the actual kid. However, my baby book says that right now the McNugget is developing fingers and toes so maybe this isn’t such a great time to interrupt it.

Now, whenever I hear someone is preggers, I’m always curious what they look like – especially toward the end. Because while being pregnant is “a beautiful and natural thing”, lets face it, really pregnant women just look wierd. So I’m always wondering what my friends/family look like in their maternity cloths. Now that the tables are turned, I figure I need to set a good example for others to follow. With that in mind, may I introduce you to my end-of-the-first-trimester picture.

I’ll try and remember to put another on later as I balloon up. Kevin, wonder husband that he is, looked at me last night as I slumped on the sofa balancing my food on my belly and said, “So, I guess Victoria Secret’s Lingere is out of the question this year, huh?”

Yeah, you could say that.

The Baby McNugget kicked my sorry old lady butt this weekend so I didn’t do anything more exciting than lie on the sofa and groan. So, for your amusement today, I offer you….. PICTURES! (Now, try and control your excitement.)

As you may recall, before leaving to visit Baby Daniel, I had ordered the coolest TV invention ever. Namely, the Flip’n’Fold. Kevin had scoffed at my enthusiasm so when that bad boy arrived, I decided to convert Kevin to my cause.

On a random tangent, it is my personal opinion that men (being the strange creatures that they are) like things to be neat. They just don’t want to be the person in charge of the whole process. They’ll walk into a room and say something like… “This place is a mess. Someone should clean it up” and then wander off. It’s almost as if they can’t make that connection between cleaning and the end result of clean. So Kevin loves it when he opens his drawer and all the clothes are neatly folded. This makes him smile. However, left to his own devices, he’ll grab a handful of clean clothes, wad them up, stuff them in the drawer and then lament the fact that nothing is folded nicely. It was, therefore, with a real sense of purpose that I decided to make Kevin a disciple of the Flip’n’Fold. (My mother documented this historic event.)

First, I showed Kevin the basics. That’s his…”I’m just humoring her because I’m afraid she’ll hurt me otherwise look”. Baby Wicks is watching and, if you are a cat person, you’ll recognize that particular cat look as dubious concern.

Next, I back off a bit and allow Kevin to try a flip on his own. Don’t worry, I was close enough to wrestle control of the Flip’n’Flop if the need arose. (Notice that darn cat has taken over my seat. Grrrrrr.)

Finally, a perfectly folded pair of pants. Kevin looks happy, right?

Well, look at his smile now! He folded this shirt All On His Own. Lets just say, he’s converted.

My mother was so impressed with Kevin’s enthusiasm over this wonderful device that she packed up our spare with the hopes of converting Elmo. Good luck mom!

I’ve just come from the doctor where we confirmed that the baby has a heartbeat. This is a good thing. People keep asking me if I’ve felt it move (which I haven’t) so I was beginning to worry. Now that I’ve heart its little thump-thump-thump I feel much better. Next comes the blood test. Bleck. I hate giving blood.

Don’t know what I’m going to do for the rest of today as it is absolutely gorgeous out. The bluest skies and the brightest sun I’ve seen in a while. Even the plants are fooled as I have seen green bulbs popping through everywhere. I’m thinking spring came early this year.

Since I have a McNugget on the way, I figure this will be my last spring/summer to garden like crazy. I suppose I could get one of the baby leashes and drag the McKid around the yard with me next year but I have enough trouble with Artie as it is. Gardening with one hand while holding onto a dog leash with the other is rather difficult.

So with that in mind, I’ve decided this will be the Year of the Garden. All my plans and dreams WILL BE COMPLETED. Hmmm, Kevin might have to get a second job to fund this mission but, eh, he doesn’t really need to sleep anyway.

Must go dig out my Sunset Planning guide now…. Oh, life is hard!

Well, my mom has left me. Kevin & I tried to convince her to stay until the baby was born but she decided to go and rescue Elmo back in LA after all.

I must say, running around with my mom was such fun! She might be more excited about this baby than I am. I mean, let’s face it, Grandparents have it good. All the loving without an 18 yr full time commitment.

By the end of her visit, we had purchased just about every conceivable baby product sold on the market. Thank goodness I don’t know gender yet or we’d really be in trouble. Is there anything in this world cuter than little baby girl clothing?!?!? I think not. I’ve decided I want a girl based on the cute clothing alone.

My next doctor appointment is tomorrow and I think we’ll set up the big ultrasound/gender determination then. I can hardly wait!

Haven’t posted in a while because we’ve been busy spreading the good news about Baby M. When I’m not gabbing on the phone to old friends, I’m trying to appease the little monster…er… sweet thing. (My mom says I can’t call it a monster ’cause it might hurt its feelings. She, however, doesn’t have the honor of feeding the little bugger on a daily basis.)

Baby M has already gone through the whole food rejection process. It has made its preference for bland, tasteless food known in no uncertain terms. I had just gotten used to a diet of tofu, saltines, and vanilla yogurt when suddently, there were new requirements to be met.

Baby M’s latest demand is constant food. I’m talking food ingestion every 2 hours or else. I know, you’re thinking, what can a little nugget of a child do to me if I don’t eat every two hours, right? Well, first, it’s learned how to override my nervous system and I’ve begun to faint. Not much fun really. So if I don’t eat fast enough and often enough, I find the world closing in around me. My mom says I turn the most unusual color of green, I start to sweat and my hands shake. Then, the great darkness descends if I don’t sit down and remember to breathe. I quickly learned to give in to this body blackmail and, munching throughout the day, I thought peace had been re-established. But no, the little peanut decided it didn’t like the long break in food ingestion between 11pm and 8am.

Since I was sleeping, the whole fainting trick had no effect. Instead, the little turnip decided to tinker with my stomach. And so, I find myself waking every 4 hours with a gurgling, acid stomach. This is not pleasent and if ignored leads to a night spent with one’s cheek pressed against a cool porcelain toilet rim. To appease my unborn dictator, I now awake at 1am and 4am, tromp downstairs and eat a yogurt and saltine crackers. Once the little nugget is satisfied, I tromp back upstairs and proceed to try and get some sleep.

I’m a little worried about what new and exciting body trick the little noodle is going to pull next. It’s already taken from me all spicy foods and has turned me into a human eating machine. It’s not even born yet and already I’m unable to sleep through the night. I shudder to think what next month will bring.

My mother assures me that after the little bugger is born, I’ll forget all this misery. This advice would be more reassuring if I didn’t have six more months of this to look forward to. I had no idea that one little blob could cause so much trouble and it isn’t even fully developed yet. Man, am I in trouble or what?!?!