"Holy shit there's a baby in there?"

When you are pregnant, people tell you that you'll wake up one day and have a belly. Um, yeah...I think I've got it. I was walking around, feeling awesome b/c I'd only gained 3 lbs since the "Day of the Pink Pee Stick" even though my workout routine has gone the way of the dinosaurs. Twas to be a short lived phenomenon as I literally woke up yesterday with this: {Click to enlarge}



A few disclaimers about this photo:

1. Don't judge my hair. When you have 13 lbs. of Italian hair, everyday that you don't look like Carrot top is a tiny victory.
2. Pardon the ugly bathroom...whomever designed this building had a torrid love affair with the color beige.
3.Don't judge the gorpy smile on my face. Taking a picture of your fetus in a mirror with an iPhone is hard.
4. Check out my rack. Those would be Mr. Val's new BFF's, I like to call them "36" and "D". The mister thinks they are awesome, while I remain terrified of them.

So here's the latest round of pregnancy specs, babyVal is officially 16weeks baked, which in culinary terms means he/she is about 3 minutes away from being a ruined souffle.

Weight Gain/Loss: Interestingly, my actual weight has barely changed, it's just all being carried in my boobs and uterus.

Maternity clothes: I've worn a couple maternity tank tops and let me tell you, they are heaven. I fear my regular clothes are not long for this world.

Stretch Marks: Nope. I got swindled into some $50 cream that supposedly alters the molecular structure of stretch marks in the space time continuum or some bullshit. Whatever. I'll try anything.

Sleep: is my very best friend.

Movement: no, but I hope it starts soon!

Food cravings/aversions: aversions have pretty much stopped. As for cravings, I pretty much just want to eat everything in sight all the time. And tomatoes. I can't get enough tomatoes...I'm such a Dego.

Gender: I'm sticking with girl.

What I miss: I'm not gonna lie. I miss booze something fierce.

Best moment this week: everytime Mr. Val kisses my belly.

Oh and one more thing, I bought a little onesie that says "G is for Guacamole" with a little picture of a smiling avocado dressed as an Aztec. It. Is. Awesome.

And now I want Guacamole. Shit.

XOXO,

P.S. Lauren - I promise I will post some recipes including the Fluff Dip soon. It's a sorority girl staple and, incidentally, non-toxic to dogs.

Let's play a game.

This game pertains to the original Valentine fur-children. If you haven't been formally introduced, I give you Beans:



And Jake:


The game is called, "What haven't Bailey and Jake eaten?" and the choices are as follows:

a.) an entire avocado, including the skin but excluding the pit
b.) an entire bowl of marshmallow fluff dip
c.) half a chocolate malt
d.) plate of caprese salad
e.) a copy of the novel, "Marley and Me"
f.) CD's
e.) a remote control
g.) Drywall
h.) this is a trick question, they've clearly eaten all of the above

I think you know the answer, as a point of fact the chocolate malt was devoured today by the precious Beans who looks a little green following her successful coup d'ice cream.

Sigh. They let people like me have children???

Wish me luck, I'm no doubt in store for a few fun walks.

XOXO,

The unbearable weirdness of being knocked up.

Here is the honest to god truth about being pregnant for the first time:

It's super weird.

It's weird that all the sudden I want pineapple, like, NONSTOP. It's weird that one day I look skinnier than before I peed on that fateful stick and that the next day I wake up with Lou Piniella's body. It's weird that I vacillate between sex sounding AWESOME and threatening to punch my husband should he so much as LOOK at me lasciviously in the SAME DAMN DAY. Basically, in the words of the immortal Dwight Schrute: "A three-ounce fetus is calling the shots. It's so bad ass."

And here's the other honest to god truth about being pregnant for the first time:

It's really scary.

All of the sudden I'm tasked with a waterfall of major decisions. Do I keep working or stay home? If I stay home do I REALLY want to eat top ramen and use single ply toilet paper until my husband is done with grad school? Do I cloth diaper or not? If I let my baby cry will he/she turn into a serial killer? If I don't let my baby cry will he/she turn into a serial killer?

There is no reason for me to be so panicked. Mr. Valentine and I are ready for this baby. We have good jobs, good educations, a stable loving marriage and a supportive family. But even when you find yourself in the incredibly blessed position that we Valentines are, it's hard to not be flummoxed by the sheer magnitude of what you are about to do. Truthfully, 15 short weeks ago Mr. Valentine and I had a trough of Margaritas and decided to throw caution to the wind and now it's (holy shit) baby time. You can see how I am a little suspicious of our judgment.

But then I see the little terry cloth robe I bought babyVal. It's the only thing I've bought so far, but I couldn't resist. I run my hands over it and imagine the little miracle whose arms will soon fill out those sleeves, whose tiny feet will poke out the bottom and whose bright little face, no doubt topped with curly dark hair will stare at this brave new world and all its wonders. And I know that without question I can do this and how much I want to. And I know that all the decisions will get made, in due time, hopefully more right than wrong. And every time my husband kisses my stomach and whispers goodnight to this baby, I am reminded that I've already made the most important choice of all, which was choosing him. The rest of the pieces will fall as they may, but the only thing we really need is each other.

Well, that and the occasional Margarita ;)

XOXO,