He's moving, thank God.

Mr. Pants has been moving quite a bit for the past few weeks. While we were in NYC, he moved while we were in ESPN zone, and Toys R Us. Now he moves everyday, several times. One time, he kicked hard enough that Kevin felt it! He must be very strong. I'll bet he is strong, because Kevin and I are pretty tough ourselves.

Was talking with some co-workers that I don't dislike the other day, about the possibility of Mr. Pants playing football someday. I think that's a terrible idea, because he could get hurt playing football--I've seen the movie Any Given Sunday, and I was a spectator at the Big House when Michigan players (and opponents) were 'shaken' on a play, and it looked like they might have been killed.

Seriously, Kevin would love it though. He would love it if the boy played football.

Although I did concede that, he will probably be big enough to play football. I mean after all, my mom is the 'shrimp' of our family at about 5 foot 6, and Kevin's mom is the 'shrimp' of his family at around 5 foot 8. None of us have little family members--all are of the tall, large variety. Genetically, Mr. Pants will probably not be little.

But he's moving now, Thank God. He's moving when I lay down in bed, he's moving when I sit at my desk. He was just moving a minute ago. Yesterday, I was poking my finger against the side of my gigantic swelling uterus, and when I took my finger away, he moved. We did that for a few minutes--me poking him, him moving--it was either a fun game, or a cool coincidence. Although I haven't been able to get him to do it again, so, who knows.

People are saying a lot of things like, "Wow! You are starting to really pop!" and "I can't believe you are 25 weeks--that's about six months! You certainly don't LOOK big enough to be six months pregnant!" But I am feeling it. I am feeling pretty big. I am reminded of the bulge at my gut whenever I try to bend over to reach something--and then I think about, how it's only going to get bigger....

It's amazing. He's growing so much. He's fully formed now--isn't that weird? He's just getting fatter, so he's going to be this plump perfect little baby when he's done.

We put the crib up. And I decorated it with the chamois lambie bedding I bought. (the crib is the free one the guy I mentioned before from work was giving me). I put something stupid on my baby registry that if someone buys it for me, I will certainly cry--and I hella don't want to cry in front of the 80 people our moms invited to the shower. Jesus! I am already a whimpering weepy ball of sobbing cries all the time (thanks hormones) and I just don't think it's wise to tell people I want things that will make me bawl. So tonight, when I leave work, I am going to go buy it. And then I am going to take it off my registry.

BTW, the guy from work gave me that crib, and the breast pump, and a pack-n-play, and a high chair. So I went online the other night and took some things off the registry that I didn't need anymore--and found out that people have been buying things from it already! What the?!? The invites aren't even out. I have to go get the thing that will make me cry, and quick take it off before someone buys it.

It's a green wall sign, that says I'm a dream come true.

Don't any of you dare buy it. I love you, but don't make me cry. I am going to buy it tonight, hopefully, I am doing it in time. Before someone else buys it.

I'll keep it on if our babies r us doesn't have it anymore. I still want it, even if it will reduce me to a blubbering sobbing fool.

You know what sorta sucks though? The shower is at noon, and Kevin's family is having a family christmas in July party that evening after the shower. It sucks, because it's going to be a really long day. The last time I went to the annual christmas in July party was when we lived in Michigan, and I had mono. I went to the party (I didn't know I had mono yet, I thought it was just strep throat and I had taken the week's worth of antibiotics, it had to improve..) and it was hot and it was at his aunt's house, and they played some game that only the married couples could play, all the others, the 'kids' had to sit outside and wait. Outside. In the sun. In the driveway. I asked his aunt if I could take a folding chair out with me to sit on, because I wasn't feeling well, and she told me no.

Not terribly fond of that one, I'm not....

Anyhow, shortly after that, Kevin and I left because I felt like total crap and thought I was going to die. I went home and crashed.

But we are getting to do that again this year. His mom is in charge of it this year though, so she's holding it when we will be home, on the same day as the shower so that her family that will be in town for the christmas party will also be able to attend the shower earlier in the day. I think that's a little better, because if we get kicked out in the driveway so the grown-ups can play a game (maybe this time, people who haven't actually birthed their babies yet will have to sit outside for the hour long game, who knows??) I will just take a chair with me. 7 months pregnant in the sunny hot driveway in July to just stand around for an hour? No thanks. I'll take a chair this time. I won't ask this time, either. F-that.

I think Mr. Pants is very excited to go home to Michigan.

Oh, I forgot the mention, the breast pump the guy gave me is a Medela Pump in Style. According to the directions, you can sanitize it by putting all the pieces in boiling water for ten minutes or something, so I am good to go. Sweet.

I am going to buy some more maternity pants this weekend. I need a few more pairs, especially some khaki's.

I have to pick out a dresser/changing table for the baby now.

And I want some raspberries.

Mmmmm.

And some pineapple. Oh, I have some, think I will eat some right now........

you all have a good weekend. I will try not to eat the entire pineapple this time.

Can you believe I am going to have a kid in 14 weeks and 4 days??

Oh, and by the way, evidently after making fun of my weight, my boss went home and over the weekend got some kind of severe sunburn. He missed wednesday, half of yesterday, and all of today trying to recover from his severe sunburn.

I'm definitely NOT saying 'Good, I'm glad' or anything like that, but, this would cause one to consider that maybe God DOES punish people when they do mean and hurtful things to others. Awfully coincidental that at about the same time he did something awful and mean, something bad happened to him...

Oh, and another BTW, our priest is leaving our church this weekend. And I really really like him. He's so nice. And I'm irrationally sad that he is leaving to go to another parish. Last week, he said good bye, and I started crying in church when he said good bye--it was downright embarrassing. Cried so much I needed a tissue. Cried so much that I had to rush out of church without saying good bye or wishing him well. They are having a reception for him Sunday, and I am thinking I will not go, but that I will send him a card telling him how much Kevin and I have enjoyed knowing him, that he's made an impact on our lives, and unfortunately, I can't see him or talk to him because my nutty irrational pregnancy hormones won't let me do it without making a crying fool out of myself. This is NOT something to sob over. No one killed my dog, you know? He's just a priest who happened to be nice going to a parish a few towns away. Kevin even pointed while I was all crying that we could go to the church he's going to a few times if we wanted to, to say hello and see how he's doing. No, no no, it's not that--it's not that I am all that attached to him--it's just that I can't have a normal emotional response to things right now. For example, after church, I went home and collected myself, and then Kevin and I went to Red Lobster for dinner, and while waiting for a table, I watched all the lobsters in the lobster tank. Suddenly, I realized that they were going to die, imminently, because people were going to eat them. They were in a holding tank while all of these unsympathetic humans just watched them be carried away to the kitchen to be boiled alive in water and then dipped in butter. I wondered if they were missing their families, or if some of their family members were in the same tank, but separated by the plastic sheets with the holes in them, crying out desperately to their children or spouses or parents on the other sides of the plastic sheets-like the mothers calling out to their children at a Nazi concentration camp at separation time or something. Smelling the smell of lobster being cooked and served. I tried to remind myself that lobster is delicious, and I enjoy eating it myself. A lot. It didn't help--I ended up crying in the waiting area at Red Lobster, for the lobsters' plight. I'm not a vegetarian. I like eating meat. Those feelings were not normal feelings for me. I understand if people who are vegetarians feel that way, but, me??? Weird. Weirder yet, I still tear up thinking about it.

How pathetic. How insane. I'm not going to be like this forever, right?????