She was SUPPOSED to come today

Today was Stella's due date. Ha. Little bugger came 10 days early. But that's ok. That is 10 more days we've had to spend with her.

We're a little tired (duh) but Grammy Z has been awesome about doing so much around the house - from cleaning the house, doing the laundry, and holding the little one so I can nap and Steve can work on the van. I'm a little nervous about what I'm going to do here by myself when all the family has left. Eek. Not going to think about that now.

Here are some pics, because I figure that's what everyone would like to see. She continues to change and grow each day. And I think we're starting to figure her out a bit more. Our most recent observations is that she goes from 0 to 60 in about 2 seconds when she realizes she's hungry. Wow. It's like, oh yes, i'm a bit fussy to "FEED ME NOW WOMAN." Hey, at least she knows what she wants, right?

Dad does the football hold really well.
I'm thinking very very hard.

She constantly finds ways to get out of her swaddle. We call this pose "Samurai Baby."

Post-milk hangover.
I'm afraid to say that she takes after me in this whole forehead crease thing... Steve constantly takes his finger and smooths out my forehead crease when I'm stressed and it seems that we're going to have to do this for her too. Ah well. Those first born Type A girls...

The word of the day is projectile

Yes kids - projectile - from both ends.

Steve went to change a wet diaper this morning and got more than he bargained for - 4 - count them - FOUR - explosive poos out her butt as she lay there on the changing table. By the 3rd one, we were laughing so hard that we didn't even realize number 4 shot out. Needless to say, the pad, the pad cover, her clothes, my shirt... it's just a damn good thing we have a washer and dryer that's ours.

Then later today as i was feeding her, the most explosive projectile of milk came shooting out of her mouth. Not when i was burping her, mind you, but as just was about to roll her off the boob and pick her up to burp her. Amazing.

So there you go folks. the word of the day is P-R-O-J-E-C-T-I-L-E.

And here are some pics to enjoy.

Steve the baby whisperer

Scupper meets his new sister.

Stella helps Mommy check her email.

Pics for the Grandparents - - -

Stella Ruth's first full day at home...

and the many faces of Miss Stella G...

Ah the irony

Okay - maybe not irony, but totally fitting.

My water just broke at the dog park.

Yup. Pretty funny. I laughed all the way home.

So we're headed to the hospital.

Hopefully everything goes ok!

Aimee & Steve

BACON!!!

If you have ever thought that this blog might be more exciting with bacon, then feel free to enjoy.

Mmmm... bacony goodness.

Click here to add bacon.

Yum.

Make haste, fair maiden

Okay. I AM that pregnant lady.

I'm tired.

I'm cranky.

I'm hormonal.

I'm stressed.

My back hurts.

My feet are swollen.

I could care less that I've eaten an entire batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies over the past week basically all by myself.

I don't want to say it, but I'm going to say it.

I'm ready for this to be over and I want my body back.

So there. I've said it. Time for Speedy to live up to her uterine name and get moving. I mean, it's not like Steve and I are at all MENTALLY prepared for any of this, but physically, it's about time.

As far as all the old wives' tales that are supposed to help (walking, spicy food, etc) I eat spicy food, because I like to anyway, and then I get ranging heartburn. I take the dog for a walk, because, well, I don't have a choice, and my feet just hurt and he looks up at me with this look of Mom, you are walking so freaking slow, we should have stayed home and I could have gotten more exercise burying my bone.

And I'm sick on top of it - did I mention that? Yes, I have a runny nose, a hacking cough, and more snot and mucus than any one person need have at this point in time.

Alright. I'm done kvetching.

But if you have a second, sent some labor vibes my way.

Instinct

It's a pretty powerful thing... I've learned about it recently in relation to this whole damn "nesting" thing. Why we women feel the desire to rearrange and clean like mad before the baby comes - I'm assuming it's the equivalent of getting our "den" ready, right? Although at this point, gathering sticks and leaves sounds better than Tilexing the tub.

I'm not the only one exhibiting signs of instinct these days. Our fair pup is pretty darn cute with a bone. And for months, I've wanted to get a little movie of him "burying" a bone... save for the fact that he can't let it be and wants to dig it up right away.

But here it is - bone digging extraordinaire. Enjoy.

"Term"

So my midwife used a word last week that scared us a little... "you are basically at term" she said.

"Term?" I said, using the quotation marks with my fingers.

"Oh yes," she said. "Term."

We both laughed, she with a hearty "oh dear, does this woman know what she's in for? 'Cause I do" laugh and me with a nervous "Oh dear, do I know what we're in for, 'cause I don't" laugh.

So here is me almost at "term" - 36 weeks this week.

I also realized I think that tank top makes me look like the Alice in Wonderland cheshire cat from the Disney version.