Only three more weeks and the Little Latta will be safe to arrive! (Well, depending on who you ask. 37 weeks is now considered "full-term". Look it up!) I am so ready for him to be here, as I often say. What I am not prepared for is all the things I will have to give up doing when I am no longer with fetus.
5) I will no longer be able to wear leggings and a shirt. I mean, without inciting the ridicule of every fashionable lady at the grocery store. Which, let's face it, is kinda hard to find around here.
4) I will no longer be able to feign weariness to get out of household chores. Oh? You don't have any socks? I'm sorry that I have been BUSY GROWING A BABY HERE. *said in most snarky tone* (most effective when paired with the evil twitchy eye)
3) Eating half of a cake all by myself will be no longer deemed acceptable. Recently, my mother and I made my husband a red velvet cake for his birthday. That was three days ago. Said cake was just recently polished off by a very hungry, hungry hippo.
And by hippo, I mean "pregnant woman".
2) Sleeping till noon/one/after everyone else is up will be impossible. If I have one more person tell me to "sleep while I can", I might just explode. I KNOW. And you are going to look pretty dumb if I have the perfect newborn who sleeps like a widdle angel. (I know, I'm just kidding myself *sigh*)
1) I will no longer be able to hog the baby all to myself in my mama kangaroo pouch. Because slapping my family members on the hand when they try to touch the Little Latta might be frowned upon. Unless you are a stranger. If so, KEEP YOUR PAWS OFF.
So far, all is complete for his little arrival. Bag is packed, clothes and blankets are washed, and we have enough diapers to last us through...well, at least the first week. I've been pretty busy lately with school and various baby-related events, but I'll keep you all updated :)
Friday, November 16, 2012
Friday, November 9, 2012
NAPS NAPS NAPS NAPS. EVERYBODY!
As a pregnant girl, I have learned the immense joy that is having the opportunity to take naps.
I attend college online and no longer work, so it makes my schedule pretty flexible (that's right..be very, very jealous). Now, don't get me wrong, I often get extremely bored and wish that I had a class to actually go to or still had my job. I don't want to seem lazy...
Even though I totally am. Thankfully though, I have started the whole "nesting" thing, which accounts for why our house looks pretty damn nice right now. Seriously, it's bad. My family almost came home to all their blankets washed and folded. But I considered this too ambitious.
The nesting has only contributed to my nap schedule. The naps lead to me staying up till, like, two in the morning. Then the cycle is repeated once I get up: wake up, eat, clean, sleep, nap, eat, stay up until the wee morning hours, eat, sleep. And getting to sleep is pretty freaking hard when you have a little person saddled to your mid-section. I know, I know, I better appreciate this sleep now, but guess what? Its no walk in the park.
First of all, when I lay down to sleep/nap, I have to create my own cocoon of warmth and find the secret position that the Little Latta wants me to sleep in. Usually, it looks something like this:
I don't have any discrimination as to where the nap occurs either. You want to play Assassin's Creed but I'm in the bed asleep? TOO BAD. (Sorry, Daniel).
Except sometimes the nap does backfire on me. Such as just now. I fell asleep on our couch, which has the tendency to eat people. I was a good pregnant girl and slept on my left side, so the couch proceeded to gobble me up like some sort of artifact on Haunted Collector (it's a actually a show about haunted things and a guy who collects them. I know, he's going to die alone with a thousand antique dolls). I woke up refreshed, but squished and with hips that felt like they belonged on an 80 year old woman. Which I guess with all the sleeping I've been doing, I might as well be.
Someone bring me my knitting. These naps aren't going anywhere. Well, at least for the next 7 weeks.
I attend college online and no longer work, so it makes my schedule pretty flexible (that's right..be very, very jealous). Now, don't get me wrong, I often get extremely bored and wish that I had a class to actually go to or still had my job. I don't want to seem lazy...
Even though I totally am. Thankfully though, I have started the whole "nesting" thing, which accounts for why our house looks pretty damn nice right now. Seriously, it's bad. My family almost came home to all their blankets washed and folded. But I considered this too ambitious.
The nesting has only contributed to my nap schedule. The naps lead to me staying up till, like, two in the morning. Then the cycle is repeated once I get up: wake up, eat, clean, sleep, nap, eat, stay up until the wee morning hours, eat, sleep. And getting to sleep is pretty freaking hard when you have a little person saddled to your mid-section. I know, I know, I better appreciate this sleep now, but guess what? Its no walk in the park.
First of all, when I lay down to sleep/nap, I have to create my own cocoon of warmth and find the secret position that the Little Latta wants me to sleep in. Usually, it looks something like this:
 |
| Oh, Cheezburger, how you understand me. |
I don't have any discrimination as to where the nap occurs either. You want to play Assassin's Creed but I'm in the bed asleep? TOO BAD. (Sorry, Daniel).
Except sometimes the nap does backfire on me. Such as just now. I fell asleep on our couch, which has the tendency to eat people. I was a good pregnant girl and slept on my left side, so the couch proceeded to gobble me up like some sort of artifact on Haunted Collector (it's a actually a show about haunted things and a guy who collects them. I know, he's going to die alone with a thousand antique dolls). I woke up refreshed, but squished and with hips that felt like they belonged on an 80 year old woman. Which I guess with all the sleeping I've been doing, I might as well be.
Someone bring me my knitting. These naps aren't going anywhere. Well, at least for the next 7 weeks.
Friday, November 2, 2012
No Shave November...the pregnant girl edition.
Until baby William gets here, I've decided to use this blog to tell you guys that I don't see/talk to/try to avoid (haha..kidding..) what I'm thinking as I grow a person. Today's topic: No Shave November.
Here in the Thomas/Latta household, EVERY DAY IS NO SHAVE NOVEMBER. well, for Daniel at least it is. He's had quite the furry face since...well, as long as I have known him, really. I personally enjoy the beard. Without it, he kind of resembles a 12 year-old. (Before you think I'm being mean, he knows this. Hence the beard.)
I like No Shave November. It's an opportunity for all the guys in your life to complain either that they can't grow a beard or that they can't grow one that looks as good as "that guy". You always end up with some guys who look like lumberjacks, some guys who look like they just decided to hit puberty, and then some guys who can only grow things like neck beards (you know who you are).
So I have decided that as a girl who can longer really see her legs, much less reach them, that I am going to participate as well. THAT'S RIGHT. I reserve my right to be fuzzy as well! Also, it's cold out, so who is going to see my legs anyways? Do you really want me to attempt to shave? Because it sort of resembles a Weeble, except I actually will fall down. That, combined with water and soap is just asking for disaster. (Now I'm going to have to pray to the pregnancy gods that I don't fall over anytime soon.) All you other girls feel free to join me as well, so I don't feel like such a weirdo :)
And for you boys who can't grow beards...you could always learn to crochet something like this:
Here in the Thomas/Latta household, EVERY DAY IS NO SHAVE NOVEMBER. well, for Daniel at least it is. He's had quite the furry face since...well, as long as I have known him, really. I personally enjoy the beard. Without it, he kind of resembles a 12 year-old. (Before you think I'm being mean, he knows this. Hence the beard.)
I like No Shave November. It's an opportunity for all the guys in your life to complain either that they can't grow a beard or that they can't grow one that looks as good as "that guy". You always end up with some guys who look like lumberjacks, some guys who look like they just decided to hit puberty, and then some guys who can only grow things like neck beards (you know who you are).
So I have decided that as a girl who can longer really see her legs, much less reach them, that I am going to participate as well. THAT'S RIGHT. I reserve my right to be fuzzy as well! Also, it's cold out, so who is going to see my legs anyways? Do you really want me to attempt to shave? Because it sort of resembles a Weeble, except I actually will fall down. That, combined with water and soap is just asking for disaster. (Now I'm going to have to pray to the pregnancy gods that I don't fall over anytime soon.) All you other girls feel free to join me as well, so I don't feel like such a weirdo :)
And for you boys who can't grow beards...you could always learn to crochet something like this:
 |
| courtesy of Etsy |
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