Week 36

Craving alert! Remember that one time I was craving cocoa-gravel, the slightly less well-known brand of cocoa pebbles cereal? Well, this week I bought a big receptacle of my favorite grown-up cereal, Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds. But, again, I really do prefer the off-brand that comes in a 36-oz bag, (maybe because there's no pesky box to fumble my fat, greasy sausage fingers about--I can just rip a bag open with my teeth). Uh, yeah. It's that bad. And with a winter storm warning for Thursday afternoon, I resolved to go to the grocery store and replenish my skim moo juice  supply before the impending storm. But Texan requested that I please not drive anywhere on Thursday, and since I was already not amped about donning my adorable-but-wont-fit-over-my-bump coat and braving the sub-freezing weather, I acquiesced. He promised to drive me to the store himself that evening. But, ALAS ALAS, he changed his mind about chauffeuring me after a long day of work, and my milk supply got so very low, that my brain was wracked with visions of lactose-less scenarios. Water in my 'honey clumps and granola with nut slivers'? Maybe...No! I must have milk. 

So Friday morning he went to the store and bought me a gallon and a half, and I had to stop myself from filling my largest mixing bowl with the sweet cereal goodness in celebration. But, it gets worse. I got a new craving late Thursday night. I was watching a show in which a man buys and consumes a giant slice of New York style pizza. And my hormones were all, "ya know what goes real good with pizza?" (My hormones have poor grammar). And then my brain was all, "ICE COLD COCA-COLA." So, I also requested a small vessel of caffeine-free coke on his grocery trip. To which he responded with a 2-lt bottle and a, TAH-dah! Oh, my self-control. But how sweet of him, right? I can't remember if Texan has ever gone to the store to buy things that we needed, let alone come home with a little guilty pleasure just for me. Glorious.

Also in sweet-as-tea Texan news, he painted my toenails while we watched the first installment of The Lord of the Rings this week. It went like this, "Texan, would you like to paint my toenails?"

"No. But would you like me to paint your toenails?" He said.

"Yes I would."

"I pick the color. Bright red. Red is sexy. And bring a towel and a q-tip and some polish remover for mistakes."  

"😍😍😍" I said.

Seriously he could only fain disinterest for a mili-sec before he remembered that painting my toes is not only enjoyable, but satisfying. Also glorious.

Today is the end of day four of not leaving the house except to visit my neighbors' cat, Ruby, and replenish her food and water supply. Today Texan escorted me to their house to keep me from slipping on the ice. Ruby doesn't like him, so we didn't stay long. Oh my gosh, I'm going out of my mind.

Here's something, church is cancelled tomorrow because the roads are that horrendous. Day 5 snowbound, no outside interaction.  Dear Mortimer, please send help immediately. Drool, lick window.

 I once took a professional personality test with a licensed counselor, and one of my trait readings was, "you become anxious and emotionally unstable at a lack of interaction with groups." Ok, I added the part about emotional instability, but you get the idea. 

I'm excited for my 37-wk checkup on Tuesday. But I'm nervous. Doc is going to make sure SJ's head is down and check to see if I'm dilated yet. I am praying that her head is down and that he doesn't have to push on my belly to reposition her. I'm guessing her head is down because what seems to be her little bum is constantly pressing against my right side with great gusto. I hope she has my flat bum. She will have such a hard time finding jeans otherwise...

Fact: I can't wear my wedding rings anymore, officially as of last week.

Fact: I am daily preparing my feet for labor. Why? So random, I know. But I want my feet to be soft and my nails to be on-point for that day. Sounds weird when I write it down. Harrumph.

Fact: I now eat every 3-4 hours now matter how big my last meal was. Famished by then.

Fact: I have never liked apples as much in my life as I do this week. Love em.

Fact: I have not worked out this week. But I thought about it with quite serious brow-furrowing.

And this is my new thing, going to bed just when I start to feel almost hungry in hopes that I can push off eating a bit longer. Seriously, as much as I enjoy eating, it's becoming a full-time occupation. Not complaining though. Oh, crap. Now I've waited too long and I have feed so I can find some rest. 

To the kitchen...