Getting us ready for parenthood... one puddle of vomit at a time.

Last night, Molly (the black dog) woke us up three times by vomiting in our bedroom. Each time, we got up and I comforted her and cleaned her face while the Pretend Husband wiped up the vomit (she had vomited a couple of times earlier in the day so we went to bed with the cleaning supplies within reach).

It's tough to get a good night's sleep when you're woken every few hours. But, we figured it is preparing us for a baby crying every few hours, and this sluggishness the PH and I feel today? Well, that's probably waiting for us this fall, too.

Last week was particularly hard. Casey (the white dog) woke us up at 4 a.m. by vomiting in our bedroom. While the PH cleaned up the four different spots (I'm not sure how he keeps getting clean-up duty, but let's not point that out to him, hmmm?) I took the dogs outside in case Casey wasn't finished. She wasn't.

Then, fearing that Casey might have a blockage in her intestine that was preventing food from getting through, I grabbed a flashlight and started following her around the yard to see if she was able to go to the bathroom (oh, the things we do for our furry children!) While this was happening (and presumably, one of my neighbors was calling the police to report a prowler in our yard), Molly decided to take off for a tour of the neighborhood.

So, 4:30 found the PH sitting on the front steps with Casey while I scoured the backyard with the flashlight, quietly calling for Molly. We finally all met up, trooped back upstairs and settled back down for a few more hours of sleep.

About 10 minutes later, Casey vomited again. This time, I cleaned and the PH took the dogs outside. I went back to bed but after about 20 minutes, I still wasn't asleep and felt bad that the PH was handling things alone outside. So, dressed in a pink bathroom, I trooped back outside and all the way out to the perimeter of our backyard to find the PH enjoying the sunrise while closely watching Casey for bathroom activity (she didn't go).

We finally made it back inside at 6 a.m.-- just enough time for all of us to pass out for an hour before the alarm went off. Then, to add insult to injury, Molly and Casey got to go spend the day with their grandparents (who promised to keep an eye on them) while the PH and I slogged into work, trying to function on about six hours of sleep.

Yes, I feel prepared for parenthood. But I'm also grateful we have 10 more weeks before the baby arrives. This mama likes her sleep.

I'm engaged to my husband!

Look what I got...

It's big, it's shiny and it's 100 percent fake. As the weather has heated up, my fingers have gotten a lot more swollen to the point where I can no longer wear my wedding and engagement rings.

I feel a little funny being knocked up and not wearing a ring so I had the idea to hit up Kohl's to buy the gaudiest rock I could. The Pretend Husband preferred I get something that could actually pass as a real engagement ring, which is how I ended up with this one. And it's weird not wearing my rings, but this one will do. After we paid $8 for it and were leaving the store, I said to the PH, "Why did you spend thousands of dollars on my ring? You could have saved so much money by buying it here!"

I may be fooling myself, but I think it looks pretty real (I realize the photo is a bit fuzzy). I also think I'm being a little silly by feeling like I need to wear a ring while pregnant. What do you think? Do people notice that kind of thing? Should I care?

Funny runs in the family...

I am anticipating a visit from the two cutest nephews (Peyton is 21 months old and Wyatt is six months old) in the world in a few weeks and my emails to their mom (kat's lil sis) reflect that. I ended one the other day with "Tell Peyton I can't wait to give him kisses!" (referring to this thing he and I do where I sneak up on him, say "I'm going to give you... KISSES!" and then kiss his cheeks like crazy).

lil sis wrote back, "And what should I tell Wyatt?"

I responded, "Wyatt and I don't have a 'thing' yet. Tell him we will work on that when he's here."

lil sis then responded with, "Okay, he says he wants some kind of secret handshake with you. Something Peyton won't know about! Gosh, the sibling rivalry starts already."

Shhh, let's let him think he has a chance with the ladies...

I wasn't going to post anything today because the funny has been lacking around here, but then I found a conversation the Pretend Husband and I had this weekend that I had transcribed onto my phone for a future blog posting.

I got up early on Saturday morning to go to a tag sale with SJ (I know, we are wild and crazy, aren't we?!?) I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and had not showered. The PH and SJ's husband both decided at the last minute to join us and the PH came down the stairs all showered and decked out in khakis and a polo shirt.

"Hon, you look way better than I do for a tag sale," I said.

"You know how many ladies will be there who don't work on Saturday nights?" the PH replied (It should be noted that I work at a radio station on Saturday nights).

"Why? Are you looking to replace your baby mama?" I asked.

"I'm going to work the crowd," he said. "You working Saturday nights is severely affecting my social life."

(Does it even need to be noted that the PH came home from the CHURCH TAG SALE without any phone numbers? Or that he spent his Saturday night like he often does-- cuddling on the couch with the dogs watching sports? Yeah, that's why I don't worry when he gets dressed up and goes out to "work the crowd.")

Not your usual love letter to baby...

Dear Herbie (aka the kid in my belly),

I had your father speak to you about this yesterday, but I think it bears repeating. That's not a pillow. Or a trampoline. It's my bladder. And you jumping on it or using it as a place to rest your head has consequences for me. Like having to try really hard not to pee when I laugh. Or having to run to the bathroom every 20 minutes. Or waking up every three hours during the night.

I love you, Herbie, and I want you to have a good time in there. Punch my belly as many times as you want. Make it pop out in weird places. And definitely kick the palm of your dad's hand when he rests it near you (we both love that). But, please, let's make the bladder off-limits, shall we?

Actually, forget that I asked. You WILL stop kicking me in the bladder. There, I said it. Why will you do that? Because I'm your mother and I said so.

Love, Mom

You know you're really pregnant when MEN start noticing...

Today was a first. While I've had women ask me about my pregnancy, I think most men know not to ask questions until they are absolutely positive a woman is carrying a child and hasn't just packed on some pounds. And even if they know for sure, most men aren't going to get involved further than something innocent like, "How are you feeling?"

Which is why it's funny that my boss-- a man-- saw me turn sideways today and said loudly, "Wow! There's no hiding that!" while pointing at my stomach (not that I was trying to hide it anyway). I responded with, "Yup, definitely pregnant. I wasn't lying."

The conversation prompted a male customer standing nearby to begin asking me questions and talking about how awesome pregnancy and birth are (uh, ok...) While I have no problem swapping stories with women, it just felt strange to do it with a guy.

So, what do you think? Does this shirt make me look pregnant?

Can I tell you how funny I think it is that the PH went to take the picture and then said, "Oh, wait" and moved a bit so he could get "more of the pond in the photo." Yeah, because it's not like I was supposed to be the subject or anything. Got to make sure we can see the pond!

Where does he come up with these things?!?

The Pretend Husband is on some kind of roll lately, busting out all over the place with one liners and things that make me laugh (or roll my eyes and laugh). The other night, we were talking about labor and I told him I was going to give him a list of encouraging things to say to me while I'm writhing around in pain.

"I don't need a list," the PH said. "I'm just going to lean over, gaze into your eyes and whisper, 'Remember, you're the one who wanted a baby.'"

Husbands say the darndest things...

Laying in bed last night, I was reading a book about pregnancy. I got to a part about how quickly my uterus is growing and exclaimed to the Pretend Husband, "Holy cow, this says I will grow half an inch every week for the rest of my pregnancy! That's crazy!"

The PH, not really paying attention to exactly what I was saying, responded with, "You're going to get taller?!?"

Uh, yeah, PH. That makes sense. Especially seeing as how I have 13 weeks left to go. So, you can expect me to be topping out around 6 feet, 4 inches by the time the kid comes. And I'll be ready for the WNBA if we ever have a second child.

The PH is one of the most intelligent people I know and yet, he seriously thought pregnancy would make me taller?!? It's not like we don't have a whole bunch of friends who have been through pregnancy. Don't you think he would have noticed if all the women had ended up at over six feet tall, towering over their husbands? I'm questioning whether the PH should ever be left alone with our child.

A man with a plan...

If there is one thing the Pretend Husband and I have learned since we've owned dogs together, it's that they are total chick magnets (and dude magnets, for that matter). Whether we take them out to the pet store or a park, it's a sure thing that somebody is going to stop to talk to them and pet them, and usually to talk to us, too. The PH and I have often commented that we would not have each been single for so long if we had thought to get a dog.

And the PH has learned that babies are something of a chick magnet, too (not surprisingly, you don't see too many guys hitting on women holding a baby, though...) Which is how he came up with a grand plan for his "daddy night" when I'm working at the radio station.

Saturday nights, the PH will be taking the baby out to "Target or the park to pick up women." As I was laughing about his ingenuity, he said, "You know what? Girls like dogs, too. I'm going to take the baby and Casey with me."

Women will be powerless against the cuteness!

Dude, five times in one night!

Back when SJ and I started this blog (waaaay back in aught five), that title would have been pretty self-explanatory. Either my crazy single self hooked up with that many guys or SJ (engaged at the time) was bragging about the number of shots she had done.

But, alas, it's been a busy four and a half years for us. Marriage, moving into multiple houses, dogs galore... oh, and that part where I got knocked up and SJ found herself with child. We've left behind those crazy girls nights filled with chocolate martinis, the random use of tiaras and some epic hangovers the next day (I learned my lesson the time I spent an entire funeral willing myself not to throw up in church).

Instead, we make mocktails out of juice and sip them out of martini glasses. And we discuss which pregnancy-related symptoms we have rather than which dude I should grant a second date to. And the only shopping I've been doing lately is for a cute outfit for the FunnyKid rather than cute shoes for myself.

And that title? Well, apparently, the FunnyKid thought my bladder made a nice, soft pillow and that's how many times I got up to pee last night. *Sigh* My, how times have changed.

Next option is a bikini-- and believe me, NO ONE wants that...

With the temperature soaring this weekend, the Pretend Husband and I decided to hit the beach. I had two options for maternity swim tops-- a black number my sister gave me and a black number I picked up somewhere. But, when I went to try them on, I found each of the tops had their own drawbacks.

Kat's lil sis is, uh, not as top-heavy as I am so the plunging V, which probably looked great on her and showed off a little cleavage, was more like the start of a strip show for me. And the other top fit well in front, but had one small tie across the back, essentially leaving my whole back (and large, pregnant butt) open to the elements (although I should clarify I had bottoms on so my wide butt was covered, but not at all camouflaged...)

Having to choose between an unflattering look I couldn't see (my butt) and one I could (my chest), I chose the one I could keep an eye on. The afternoon then consisted of my trying to keep from flashing the beach every time I moved, the PH throwing panicked looks my way when he thought something was about to happen and some weird placement of my arms in an effort to not teach sex education to the little kids in the area before they were ready for it.

Needless to say, I will be shopping for a new maternity swimsuit this week. Do you think they come in "turtleneck?"