Let's celebrate, it's Thursday!

Every Thursday signifies a new week.  I am now at 30 weeks!!  70 days until my due date and 49 days until I am full term!!  Hot damn!!! Sloane needs to stay put  and my roots need to chill out, for at least 6 more.  I would prefer her to be fully cooked in my oven as opposed to having to be zapped in the microwave (the incubator) but, how ever God gives her to me is greatly appreciated (thanks big guy!).

All the books I have, say (or Jon says they say) that I should be talking to her daily because she can hear me meow (ok, I meant now, sorry it was too easy).  This is so awkward for me (another reason I am glad I don't have a reality show).  I find myself sitting here and saying..."Hey Sloane, what's up?".  Then I am like, ugh, why am I talking to a little baby like that?  So then I try, "Hi little Sloane, what are you doing in there?".  Also annoying, she is probably like....umm, cool mom I am drinking an amniotic fluid martini and trying to drown out your whiney voice.  This morning I tried this one, "Sloane monkey, what do you want to come home from the hospital in and what shape do you want your eyebrows?".  Literally as soon as I finished saying this, she kicked me SO hard.  Haha.  Either she has a sense of humor or she was annoyed with my assumption that she will have a little unibrow.  Sorry little babe.  I am just SO anxious to see what she looks like...but not enough to do a 3D/4D ultrasound.  I think those are cheating. 

So, I have been watching baby story.  I know, I know, I shouldn't be watching it, but I can't help it!  Can I just say, there has not been one semi-glamourous mom on that show.  They all look like Mag the hag, before, during and after.  Such a let down!  I can guarantee you, if I was on that show (no way in hell) I would at least attempt to look good.  National television people!!!!  Anyway, as my pregnancy progresses and as I watch this show, I find myself naturally becoming more motherly.  For example, I think I am going to try my hand at breast feeding (mainly because of the calories), I am more concerned about what she will be wearing than me (well this one is only partially true), and my heart melts at all things baby (ok so maybe this is just my hormones making me weak, not neccesarily motherly).  There is just one part of the whole delivery thing that I am still trying to accept: the gooey, bloody baby part.  As I watch baby story, I get chill bumps when I see the nurse slop that slimy babe on top of the mom.  I am sure I will be crying at this part but I don't want to throw up!  When I was a preschool teacher during the summers of high school/college I would always gag and have to run to the bathroom when one of the kids hat snot on their face (I won't tell you how I got in trouble for playing musical chairs to B. Spears "Slave"...sorry, it was the only CD I had with me).  If I react like that to snot, how will I be able to handle the slimy slop?  I am terrified that a nurse will notice me cringe and tell CPS that I am an unfit mother.  Is it too much to ask that Sloane get a bath first?  I am sure she would be happy to get that crap off her too.  Maybe this feeling will change?  I know I will be so excited and overjoyed to meet this little prodigy, maybe that will over come the gag reflexes?  And, who knows how Jon will react.  Hopefully he won't faint....this reminds me of a story...

Jon interned in Washington D.C. for a whole semester Junior year of college.  I know what you are thinking, wow Sara, you are a super cool girlfriend to let Jon go away for a whole semester.  Yes, I know this.  I might have given him an ultimatum...somthing like, I would let him go to DC, but he must propose to me by the end of the summer or else...but that is a totally different story.  Anyway, Jon lived in a house with like 5 other guys and 5 girls.  Yes, girls.  He lived with girls.  I let him live with girls.  Uh, sorry, I get a little crazy just thinking about it again.  Ok, ok, so he got very thin this semester.  He was over working and under eating, as well as walking everywhere.  One morning he was taking a shower (please note that this back-ass-wards house had a common living room and on the girls side was the mens bathroom and on the mens side, was the girls bathroom. Super cool, ugh).  So basically Jon was starving and dehydrated, walked out of the bathroom and fainted.  He says he was wearing a towel, and came to in just a few seconds, no big deal.  BUT in my head, how I heard the story, was that...he was lethargically walking into the living room wearing a small hand towel around his very svelt waist.  As he reached the sofa he felt weak and lost his footing.  The towel unwrapped slowly as he fell to the ground.  One of the female interns, still wearing a lace nightie, ran to his rescue and somehow she revived him.  Hmmmm.  I hate this story (and that particular female intern, but the point is, that he has a history of fainting.  The end. 

OK, moving foward....we have a busy weekend ahead.  Jon and I are throwing my brother Luke and his fiance, Leah a wedding shower on Saturday night.  How the hell are we going to pull that off?  I am getting pretty good at giving direction from my throne (uh em, the sofa).   And Sherry is getting pretty good at following direction...still think it would be better if she took some ADD meds, but that is neither here nor there.  I think we have everything under control.  I am sure I will have plenty to blog about.  Especially since all of their friends will think I am a total bitch for not getting up to greet any of them.  Must give explanation stat.

Happy Thursday!  Until next time...
SLP