"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,

Stream of Consciousness Saturdays

Since I'm in a particularly James Joyce-ey mood today, I've decided jot down some random thoughts that are flitting in and out of my mind today. I'm not going to make Stream of Consciousness Saturdays a regular thing, since I don't want you all to run screaming from my blog with spoons in your ears. Let's begin.

1. I really like that commercial where the hamsters are driving and rockin' out to a funk song. I like it so much so that I used my Shazaam app on the iPhone to find the song, which if your interested is called "Fort Knox" by the Goldfish. If your wondering, yes, I purchased it and now hear it when I run on the treadmill.

2. I think that the cast members of The Hills, Jersey Shore, The Real World and all the Real World bastard child shows, Wife Swap and every incarnation of the Real Housewives franchise should be rounded up and dropped off on a deserted island for a survival competition. None of the pansy shit they do on Survivor though. I want this to be a combination of Lord of the Flies and Lost. I also secretly hope that they'd have to resort to eating each other to stay alive. I vote you eat Heidi Montag first. Not because she'd be a good meal, just because her new face freaks me out.

3. Reduced Fat Cheese makes absolutely no sense. Period.

4. I think I may need to get a second job to support a growing addiction to baby shoes.

That's it for today. Hope your weekend is off to a great start!

XOXO,

Up the Duff....

...is a delightfully tacky British turn of phrase for pregnant.

Which I am.

This is another mea culpa for my erratic blogging as of late, but it's hard to come up with pithy comments about cheese when all I can think about is the tiny succubus that's currently residing in my womb.

I have no intentions of turning this into a pregnancy blog as I think most of them are boring and I'm certainly going to stay my cheese eating, wine swilling self...just in mom form. And no, I'm not drinking wine while pregnant. My desire for a baby without gills trumps my lust for the Jesus juice.

That said, it's a pretty major life change so I'll obviously give you the highlights here, but none of the gross stuff, b/c some stuff should just be locked away and suppressed, never to be exposed save for the safe haven of a psychotherapist's office.

There is the standard list of knocked up questions with my not so standard responses:

Weight Gain/Loss: I'll never tell, but I can tell you it's not that bad. Despite the fact that I ate grilled cheese sandwiches exclusively for a week.
Maternity clothes: not yet, though I am scouring websites to find cute ones that don't cost a fortune.
Stretch Marks: no and I plan to do anything, including drink the blood of virgins to avoid them. I am hoping my mom's kick ass genetics come into play here.
Sleep: is the new sex.
Movement: at my last u/s babyVal was moving around like a maniac, which I clearly can't feel at this point. This worries me as it indicates a crazy baby is on the way. Karma really kicks you in the ass,no?
Food cravings/aversions: cravings have been all over the place. Some days fruit, some days cheeseburgers. The most obvious symptom is that I am utterly susceptible to suggestion. If I see someone eating a turkey sandwich, I want a turkey sandwich. The other day a colleague of mine was eating sushi, which I can no longer can eat. I almost cried. Bitch.
Gender: I suspect girl. Mr. Valentine suspects boy, though I assume this isn't so much a suspicion as a desire to reenact the "Wanna have a catch?" scene from Field of Dreams.
What I miss: staying up past 9:30.
Best moment this week: seeing babyVal moving around at the doctor.

So that's it for now. I promise to never veer into STFU Parents territory and to always maintain my rapier wit. You just have to promise to love me when I cry and give in when I demand pickles.

XOXO,

In the words of the immortal Chandler Bing...

...could I BE a worse blogger?

Sorry my pets. I've been incommunicado. I never call...I never write...my grandma would be so ashamed. But I'm here to make it up to you with another scintillating installment of Fromage Fridays, and this one, I promise, will not disappoint. Without further ado, I give you:



Truffle Tremor.

This is not a cheese for the faint of heart or wallet. It's roughly $3,780.00 per ounce and worth every deflated American penny. My gorgeous BFF introduced me to it a few years ago, much to my bank account and husband's chagrin. Long story short, it's goat cheese with truffles in it. It is the height of fabulousness and you should go get some, like, right now. You can eat it on crackers (like my husband), plain (like my aforementioned gorgeous BFF) or melted on anything you can get your hands on (like me!). You can buy it at Whole Foods or order it online. I've been lobbying Whole Foods for some sort of Cheese Lovers Rewards program without success. I'll keep you updated as to the status of said program.

They say to eat truffle tremor with Dolcetto, Albarino, Pinot Grigio or Champagne, but in my opinion you could pair it with shoe leather and it would be delicious. One unfortunate side effect of truffle tremor is that you will become more snooty upon consumption, so I am putting my 4 years of French training to use to tutor you on some phrases you might want to perfect:

-Le garçon, je plus exige de ce fromage délicieux. (Waiter, I demand more of that delicious cheese.)

-S'il vous plaît m'indiquer du côté du croissant le plus proche. (Please point me in the direction of the nearest croissant.)

-Avez-vous une récompenses d'amants de fromage programment ? (Do you have a cheese lovers rewards program?)

-Je suis fini avec mon vin et mon fromage, s'il vous plaît me dire où je peux acheter des chaussures. (I am finished with my wine and cheese, please tell me where I can buy shoes.)

So there you have it. I am actually going to pick up some truffle tremor on my way home and likely not share with my husband. Good thing he loves me so much, I'm not sure another man could put up with me.

Baisers, (Kisses)

no judge. no jury. straight to execution.

Remember the Friends episode where someone steals Ross' leftover Thanksgiving turkey sandwich? The one with "the moistmaker" technology invented by Monica? That happened to me today at work, only with a specific beverage that I had been saving. I went to the fridge to find said beverage STOLEN.

Oh the humanity.

I realize that in the grand scheme of things this isn't a big deal, but when you really want something and someone TAKES it from you it leads to a less than pleasant afternoon. Which is why I spent the rest of the day wandering around the office trying to catch someone drinking it so that I could pull their toenails out with pliers one by one.

I can only hope that their Karmic balance is now tragically out of wack. If not I'm stealing a Hot Pocket out of the fridge tomorrow, just to right the scales.

Oh, and from now on I am leaving notes on my food/drink with the following note: "The owner of these foodstuffs has a raging case of Herpes and a compulsion to lick EVERYTHING."

XOXO,