1. See, I knew I wouldn't feel like doing anything after Easter. Apparently that even included blogging. The last trimester always (hah, I say that like I have vast experience) is always especially brutal. I don't have the crushing ribcage pain like last time, instead I have some extremely sore and strained muscles trying to support the bottom of my belly. Which I might have aggravated a little yesterday by doing a bunch of walking around the Medical Center… then trotting to catch my train (with a heavy load of baby shower gifts, no less.)
I'm terrible at being pregnant.
2. (TMI alert)
The general lethargy, it turns out, was probably the only symptom of an otherwise invisible, symptomless UTI. Goodness knows how long I'd had it. Maybe since right after my last OB appointment. I'm already starting to feel better, but it's made me think: I've never had a UTI. Is that because I'm not prone to them, or is it because when I do have them, they're not identifiable w/o a culture? I have plenty of episodes of “feeling mildly cruddy and intermittently feverish.”
It's been especially creeping me out since an antibiotic resistant UTI is what killed that expectant mother in Ireland.
3. It's been a weird week. On Wednesday a pair of mysterious diamond earrings showed up from Amazon alongside a few baby gifts of known provenance. There was no shipping list, no one I know bought them, Amazon itself did not know from whence they came!
I don't know what to DO with them. Amazon is all “…huh. Hey, free earrings!” Me, I feel like I'm about to become embroiled in either a spy flick or a muppet movie.
4. Speaking of baby gifts, one workplace shower is over. Thank goodness. I hate baby showers and tried to beg off, since this is my second baby and we don't really need much. But work would not let me off (any excuse for the lab to party, after all) but thankfully they did mostly attend to my two pleas of “I don't really need much, except girl clothes” and “please don't give me disposable diapers.”
But there's always one that doesn't. So we also received an ugly Pooh blanket with disturbing arms and legs that looks like it must awake in the witching hour and prowl around the house looking for new victims to smother. A pack of Huggies. A basket of diapering paraphernalia that we can't use because they'll damage our cloth diapers. And no gift receipt.
This is why I hate showers so much. You get nagged for weeks beforehand about “what do you still need?”, and when you put together an entirely modest list just to make it stop, the nagger looks at the list, apparently thinks “well, all that crap is boring”, and goes and spends 2-3x the money on some extraneous tchotchke.
Perhaps I wouldn't be quite so crabby if I hadn't spent the last three to four months trying to reduce the ridiculous amount of stuff in our house. There's a reason our third bedroom is called the Room of Doom.
Also, now I have to write thank you notes. *whimper*
On the other hand, we don't even know if Himself's department is going to throw a shower. Himself has lobbied against it, but I have an ugly feeling his department head is going to try a surprise shower, which I'm tolerably certain my nerves can't handle at this late date. Even if I don't have to go, I will still have to scramble to wash clothes, return things, and find more places to store other oddities. I have enough to finish up on the five weeks remaining to me.
5. I finally updated my Google+ profile with a picture. Tada!
Now I just need to update my Gravatar and I'm done with pictures for the next four years.
6. It's begun. GeekBaby came home from CCE on Wednesday to proclaim “the activities were boring. But I had fun playing!”
We've been seriously thinking about homeschooling him. It's barely been three weeks since I observed to Himself “His behavior will be fine in kindergarten even if he's bored, because he gets access to fresh toys and playtime. But from first grade on, he's going to be bored and thus in trouble all the time.” It's a little disturbing to see evidence my analysis was accurate so soon.
7. My c-section is scheduled for May 30th. She's getting Joan of Arc for a patron saint, which given her personality (and probable Amazonian stature) seems extremely appropriate to me. Also this ought to get us out of the hospital and home safe before Himself has to deal with administering finals and end of the year paperwork.
I'm still a little bitter over needing a c-section, but I swallowed my pride and scheduled it. And I suppose there are advantages, like knowing the hard deadline for when she'll be getting here, so I can't procrastinate too much.
For more Quick Takes, visit Jen @ Conversion Diary.