Why I'm Afraid of the Car Ride Home from the Hospital

I am secretly (well, not anymore, I guess...) terrified of the car trip home from the hospital with Baby.

Not because of the overwhelming sense of inadequacy I'm sure we'll feel once we get home...

Not because Baby and I will almost certainly lose our breastfeeding mojo once we're not within arms reach of a lactation consultant...

And not because I will be falling apart from the inside out.

I am afraid because every time we get into the car, Baby goes WIIIIILD. You know those commercials with the sleeping baby in the car?  Lies. Just one block in either of our vehicles and it's dance party in Mommy's tummy.  


Seriously, I don't even know where s/he gets the glow sticks.

SO... I'm a little afraid that, once we strap our new bundle of joy into the tippity-top safety rated Chicco car seat and take the long (or not-long-enough?) ride down the halls of the hospital to the car, snap the seat into the expertly-installed base, and begin our trek home, Baby will FLIIIIIP OUUUUUT. 

And I'm not sure whether it will be a good or bad reaction, but either way, I expect the conversation to go something like, "Yes, Baby, we're in the car again, and it's a little different this time..." ...and then just lots of cooing and shushing and making the stupid little faces we all make to newborn babies even though at that age they can't hardly see past their noses. 

You do it. You know you do. You might not even notice you're doing it when you're standing in line at the supermarket behind an exhausted parent with an adorable, brand new baby. But the guy one queue over does...

In related news...
We had our 35 week appointment today and when the nurse was checking Baby's heart, s/he broke out the glow sticks and showed off a little. And yes, Nurse Michelle was impressed. 

Everything looks to be on track - Baby is head-down, and my body is in the beginning stages of preparing for labor (I'll leave the details to your imagination), so hopefully we'll be seeing Baby by the estimated due date!  Of course, all of these signs don't have any bearing on him or her coming early or even on time, but hey, a pregnant chic in the summertime can only hope. Ya gotta give me something to cling to...

Hoping to meet you in 5 weeks, Baby!!


This One Time, I Cried in a Target for a Full 10 Minutes...

Okay, I'm going to get real with y'all. 

No matter how much of a blessing a pregnancy is - no matter how much you logically know it's not the end of the world - at some point during your pregnancy, you will be certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that your world is coming crashing down around you.  And as with most things of this nature, such realizations will strike at the most inopportune times.

For example...
You'll be glibly chatting with your significant other, snacking on a handful of dark chocolate baking chips when all of a sudden, the proverbial crap hits the fan.  

You'll cry for anywhere between two and twenty minutes while your doting spouse tries his best to comfort you. 

But all you'll hear is, "Remember when I grabbed your butt earlier today?" Yeah...THE SAME UGLY BUTT WITH ALL THE CELLULITE AND HEMORRHOIDS?! 

And then you'll cry about that and the million other things that are going on in/with/on your body.

The revelation that, "CRAP. We are two weeks away from being technically full term, and I still haven't gotten a crib liner or extra diapers or tennis balls or extra extra extra large pads..." will strike in the middle of a busy shopping center (like, say, Target) and you'll spend the next hour and a half in an insane, Mama Bear nesting state, throwing things into your shopping cart with frantic determination...
...All of this only to realize that you don't actually need any of these things and even if you did buy them all, you wouldn't be able to carry them out to the car or up all the stairs to your second-story apartment without help because of your beautifully burgeoning bump and oh-so-enjoyable round ligament pains.  

So, you do what any 35-week-pregnant, hormonally-driven lady would do:  Hide in the car care aisle and sob for awhile before sheepishly returning most of the items you grabbed off the shelves in that weirdly focused twilight state you just experienced. 

Everything except the pads. You keep the pads. Because that just makes good sense.

But, like I said before, this has nothing whatsoever to do with logic.  It's all in the hormones, baby.  And it's that simple fact that keeps me laughing once my common sense returns from its little vacation.  

So now,
We have only 5 more weeks to get through (give or take). 5 more weeks of crying, cramping, craving, and of course enjoying the huge movements I feel every day now...especially in the car. Baby LOOOOVES car rides!
I know someday I will miss the breathtaking feeling of a strong kick to the lungs, but for now, I'm SO ready to finally meet this little one!!

Well, except I really do need to buy some tennis balls...


Frozen Hot Chocolate: Adventures in Third Trimester Pregnancy Cravings

There's no telling when it will strike, there does not seem to be any rhyme or reason to it, and there is no escaping it: it's the "Third Trimester Pregnancy Craving."  And tonight, it was frozen hot chocolate. 

I've never even had frozen hot chocolate before, so I have literally NO idea where in the world this craving originated. Usually when a craving like this one hits, I putz around the kitchen awhile throwing things together and furiously jotting down notes only to find out it was a one-time indulgence (or a complete failure). This time, though, Baby and I actually came up with an amazing recipe I wouldn't mind enjoying sans hormonally-influenced pigging out!

So, without further ado...
(Hey. I made up the recipe, so I get to name it. Boom.)
Makes 2 servings.

Gather your ingredients...
1/2 cup milk chocolate chips
1 tsp unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 tsp cream of tartar
2-1/2 tsp Truvia, divided (or 1-1/2 TBSP sugar)
1-1/2 cups of your favorite "milk" (I use almond milk), divided
3 cups ice

Make magic...
1) Open your package of milk chocolate chips. Eat one or twelve chocolate chips. Then, melt 1/2 cup or so in a saucepan over medium heat. Eat another one or twelve out of the bag as the chocolate melts before "hiding" them from yourself and trying your best to forget about them. Stir your chips as they melt to ensure they melt evenly and don't scorch.

2) Once your chips are melted (have you forgotten where you put the bag yet?), add your unsweetened cocoa powder, cream of tartar, 1/2 tsp of Truvia (or 1/2 TBSP sugar), and 1/2 cup of milk. Stir until smooth, then remove from heat and allow to cool slightly, continuing to stir. Add remaining 1 cup of milk and 2 tsp of Truvia (or 1 TBSP sugar) and stir well.

3) Place 3 cups of ice in a blender and pour chocolate mixture over top. Blend well. Pour into glasses and serve with whipped cream, extra chocolate chips, chocolate shavings, or twisty straws -- whatever makes you feel like the queen you are!

4) Convince your spouse to drink 1/2 of the concoction because you realize you made too much and don't want to overindulge. Chances are, he won't mind one bit. 

5) Relax, sip away, and enjoy!

Sorry there aren't any cute little "Pinteresty" pictures with this post, but if you've ever been pregnant, you understand the seriousness of cravings; THERE WAS NO TIME TO SPARE. I NEEDED FROZEN HOT CHOCOLATE AND I NEEDED IT NOW. So instead, here's a nice little drawing to illustrate my feelings about this recipe:
Until next time!

Edit:  Maybe it's just because it's past my bed time (or because I'm hyped up on chocolate?) but I keep looking at that little doodle I did of myself holding the drinks and thinking, "Look, honey, I made you a drink! Now drink it with me! OR ELLLLLSE!!!"

Additional Edit:  I believe that thought merits an extra doodle:
 Aaaaand I'm spent. You're welcome, internet.