33 weeks: where's my turkey timer?
This photo? Stunningly accurate.
I don't actually see anything funny about this. This is EXACTLY how I feel right now and look. That turkey in my fridge that's about to be brined, stuffed, and baked into oblivion has it so easy... And some of his friends are even being pardoned! Where's my pardon? I could really go for a pardon right about now.
I'm stuffed full of baby right now. I don't actually know where more Kate is going to go but supposABLY she's packing on another half pound a week from here on out.
Actually, I do know where it's going. Right to my chubby little face. I've taken the 30-something week turn into Seniorita Puffy Face and there is just no amount of MAC makeup that can hide that or make it better. I need some sort of Death Becomes Her magic potion.
I also need Kate to tone it down a smidge.
1. She is crazy. She does crazy things in there, body parts are visible, and I do not appreciate having my insides danced on. She is Lionel Richie. She is dancing on the ceiling all day long.
2. I need her to knock off the contractions. Oh yes, those have started. Thank heavens they aren't doing anything - still tight as a drum - but they hurt like hell and the doctors have me on "light duty". Someone send that message to my employer, Sam. He doesn't seem to care.
3. I have finally started measuring ahead. Believe it or not, I was "right on track" with Sam until about 30 ish weeks. Then the belly began taking on a life of it's own. At my 32 week appointment for Kate, what had always been "right on" was suddenly measuring a few weeks ahead. Not a huge measuring ahead, but Sam ended the game only four weeks ahead in the belly so let's just say Little Miss is following nicely in her brother's giant footprints. I still do not believe she will be 11 pounds like him - she seems to still have plenty of room in there for her dance recitals. I'm holding with my guess of 9...
It's so nice to be dreaming and hoping, wishing and praying for just a 9 lbs baby. Not like I care. She's coming out the same way no matter how big she is. Go for broke, Kate. Make us proud.
33 weeks, people. Can you believe we meet the little Medical Miracle in just six weeks?