This is where I need to give a shoutout to Sam and Molly for being pretty freaking awesome at rolling with the punches. I don't know if Jen has a secret past time of bringing them to haunted locations and thus they are accustomed to such a thing, but they weren't really phased by the random warning signs, hazardous-looking docks, and overabundance of mold. They explored the park like champions. Oh, the things you resort to doing on an Army base for entertainment.
I took a nice picture of Sam (again, please note contrast in photo quality) bravely checking out the stagnant water and the one sole (radioactive?) fish that was existing in it. We named the fish Patrick, by the way. He has no friends (only due to lack of options, I'm sure he has a fabulous personality) and actually followed us as we walked around the entire lake.
One of the best parts about this clan visiting was all of the fun practice Greg got in while they were here. I'm pretty impressed with his baby-holding skills. Especially since Baby Will did me a solid and waited to spit up until I handed him off to Greg. Every. Single. Time. Thanks, buddy!
There was even some adult time when the kids went to bed where Greg told us about his struggles as a recovering band nerd and how he was cheated out of a spot in the Seattle Youth Orchestra. We enjoyed when, after he had a few glasses of wine, he went off on a rant about how he was "the best damn french horn player in the school and was kind of a big deal". Which I believe because his entire family is unfairly and insanely talented in all things music, but Jen and I still found hysterical because we had A) each had two sips of wine (thanks pregnancy and breastfeeding) and B) he was angrily recounting this tragedy as one might dispute the Florida election recount of 2000.
And if you think we're making fun of band nerds, we are SO not, because Jen just so happened to ALSO play the french horn. And me? Well, my prestigious musical career began and ended when I took piano lessons for a year and the teacher would frown every time I showed up because I still had cheese-doodle residue on my fingers from my late afternoon snack.
1) We finally have a nursery!
Forgive the terrible pictures, but I currently can't locate the memory card for my fancy-shmancy camera, so iPhone pics will have to do! We LOVE the way it came out and we plan on adding a bit more red so the entire room doesn't scream BLUE.
I WOULD, however, like to point out that by "diapers for mom" I do not mean for my mother, Mary. Although she WILL officially be a Grandmother in the near future, she is still very capable of handling her own bowel movements (you're welcome, Mom). I, on the other hand, might be a little rusty. I hear that tends to happen as human babies are several pounds, and they are expected to come out of a small opening. Hopefully none of you are eating dinner while reading this. If you are, you should know me by now and to be honest, I'm quite disappointed in you.
Shoutout to Jen for providing 98% of the useful things you see here. As I mentioned, she's pretty much an expert. Shoutout also to my sister for providing the sexy nursing bras. And no - for once I'm not being sarcastic - these are definitely considered sexy, especially since I have been living solely in sports bras for the past nine months.
I realize I began this paragraph by saying I wasn't going to outline everything that we packed, and then I did exactly that. My bad. I've been told I tend to talk a lot...
Please excuse my daughter, Casey, from class last Wednesday. She likely got distracted while eating an enormous plate of cheese and crackers and simultaneously scouring YouTube for videos of people falling.
I have made sure she has written down the appropriate date and time of the classes and can ensure you she will be present next week. I have even put reminders on the cheese packets and cracker box to increase the likelihood that she will not forget.
As usual, this is by no means her husband's fault, nor should it be a reflection of his character, similar to the time they were banned from using self-checkout at the grocery store for "taking an unnecessary amount of plastic bags".
Symptoms: Still feeling pretty great. I thought this was the point in which you slow down, but in typical weird Casey fashion, I have a surge of energy. Except for my afternoon naps. I get pretty sleepy in the middle of the day and ain't nobody messing with my siestas. Other than those mini 1pm comas, I seem to be endlessly wandering around the house in search of something to do. Which, as you can imagine, Greg is a huge fan of. Especially at three in the morning.
Labor Signs: I have noticed zero contractions so far, which the child birth teacher told me is a good sign because I'm probably having them already, just not noticing. I'm not sure if I believe her because I've talked to a few mothers and those sound like things that don't necessarily go unnoticed. In fact, they even tend to be rather unpleasant. So, jury's still out on that one.
Stretch Marks: Remember last week when I was an overly-confident asshole and talked about having no stretch marks on my stomach? Well, the powers that be were listening and decided to laugh and then slap me across my stupid, bragging face. Just a few days ago, my stomach started itching like crazy. The next morning, I woke up and there they were! Little red lines demonstrating my stomach's inability to continue stretching at an alarming rate. I want to blame the baby's growth, but deep down I must admit it's probably due to my new nightly ritual of throwing myself a cheese and cracker party (as mentioned above).
Latest Doctor's Appointment: Last week, the doc estimated that I was about 60% effaced. I asked if this technically meant anything at all in terms of when the baby might make their debut and he was pretty honest in that in didn't. Sooo...why the need to get all up in my no-no square?! Whatever doc, you're the professional.
Here's to hoping I check in next week!