Take a nap, or come up with a clever blog post title? I choose nap. Here are some miscellaneous updates.

• My blog-writing and e-mailing has sort of fallen by the wayside lately, because I am now mostly operating in only two modes: the "OMG must get everything done RIGHT NOW" mode that involves lots of list-making and chasing Jeromy around the house trying to get him to help me with twenty things, and the "OMG I'm so tired and uncomfortable" mode where I flop around on the bed or couch for a while and then spend part of the afternoon drooling on my body pillow.
• I have started running into things with my belly.  Most notably, a tray full of food that I tried to squeeze by in our favorite Mexican food restaurant.  I almost knocked over the folding tray holder thingy. The worst part is, Jeromy tried to warn me, but I thought that I could just suck in a little bit and make it through. I was incorrect.
• My belly is still not as huge as I expected it to be by now, though.  When strangers ask and find out that I'm due in only 4-5 weeks, they look at me sort of pityingly or skeptically, like I might have gotten my pregnancy math wrong.
• I have been having some Braxton-Hicks contractions for a while now; usually when I stand up or am walking around quickly.  The doctor had previously told me to sit down when this happened, to make sure they stopped, but now I'm close enough to delivery that she wants me to go ahead and walk through them!
• I was the envy of all the other preggos in childbirth class because I can still wear my rings.  Of course, I'm sure now that I've typed that sentence, the swelling will begin, and I'll look like a balloon animal in no time.
• A few weekends ago, two of my awesome teacher buddies threw us a really fun co-ed baby shower.  I had my digital camera out and then of course forgot to take very many pictures, but here is one of Jeromy and the husband of one of the hostesses having a beer-out-of-the-baby-bottle chugging race:

And here are some of the wonderful gifts being test-driven:

It'll be a workout!

This is Doctor Bear enjoying the swing; both gifts from Grammy and Grandpa Smith!

Doctor Bear trying out the super pimpin' stroller from my parents

Proof that you can't really expect a pregnant woman to have reasonable ideas about what is or is not a "CRISIS"

Yesterday was an intense day of the nesting/OMG-must-get-everything-done-and-ready-right-NOW urge for me.  I was probably being a little nutty, but I have to say it was kind of a nice change from the I'm-so-tired-I-just-want-to-lay-here-and-drool days that I've been having lately.  I decided that it was finally time (!!!!) to start pre-washing baby clothes, blankets, etc.  So I was upstairs in the nursery, gathering up laundry, when I realized that I couldn't find any of the baby socks anywhere.  I remembered taking them all out of their little packages, rolling them into teeny-tiny sock-pair balls, and putting them in a drawer....but then I also recalled taking them back out when Jeromy suggested I wash them first.  I remembered that Jeromy had been helping me carry a bunch of stuff downstairs, including all of the packaging trash from the stuff we had been putting together in the nursery.  Cue the sinking feeling in my already-plenty-heavy stomach.  By the time Jeromy got home, I had looked all over the house: no baby socks.  I was getting pretty upset, and also getting upset with myself for getting upset,  because, hello, they are just socks.  Lost socks does not in any way, shape, or form constitute a crisis--even really cute socks.  But my hormones had long ago zoomed past "being reasonable."

So when Jeromy walked in the door, he was pretty much greeted by a miserable-looking wife who, on the verge of wailing, accused him of accidentally throwing away all of the baby socks.  We both re-hashed our respective memories of what happened on the night in question, but after a few rounds of "did you look in the hamper?" and "did you double-check the closet?", we both concluded that the precious, never-used baby socks were probably chilling at the landfill by now.  

However, after fearfully checking my face for any signs of lip-quivering, Jeromy decided to go check the garage one last time to see if any of the bags we had brought down were still hiding somewhere.  Sure enough, at the bottom of a bag of boxes and packaging, he found the baby socks.  I'm not sure which one of us was more relieved and excited; me, because the collection of adorable socks had been restored, or Jeromy, because a pregnant wife meltdown had been averted.  

RESCUED!!

 

And in other news....

Just kidding!  My last post was a fun little April Fool's blog joke--we will NOT be naming our child Fitzwilliam Darcy.  Did we get you?  Maybe for a minute?

I will admit that I did mentally go through all of Jane Austen's male protagonists to see if there was a good name among them, and Fitzwilliam Darcy IS one of my favorite characters, but I don't think I could saddle my kid with that name.  It's a bit too 18th-century-aristocrat-who-wears-pantaloons, even for an Austen-lover like me.  And those of you who know Jeromy very well should definitely have known that he'd never have agreed to something so formal!

I wouldn't even know how to BEGIN teaching our kid to tie a cravat...

To give Jeromy the credit he is due, the post was his idea, although the fake name he suggested was "Bosephus Rain."  I was pretty sure no one would buy that one for a minute, so I tried to come up with one that was a little more plausible.  I was still surprised that no one immediately called "April Fool's!" on me, though.  I can't really tell how many people believed me, but I am betting that several people were pretty sure it was a joke, but were afraid to say anything just in case I was serious and they ended up insulting our baby name.  

So after that tease, here is the real deal with the baby name.  We do have one picked that we are 99% sure we will use, and I have stepped away from the baby name book.  Jeromy kind of wants to wait and announce the name when Doctor makes his grand entrance, though.  This is apparently partly because he wants us to be able to "reserve the right to change it" if for some reason we want to do so.  We do know of people (including Jeromy's parents) who have had one name picked out, but went with another one after meeting their baby, so maybe he has the right idea.  However, the idea of waiting to decide on the baby's name until I'm lying exhausted and semi-delirious in a hospital bed after giving birth really stresses me out, so I'm really glad that we do have a top pick agreed upon. 

If I start getting really crazy and antsy about announcing our name choice, Jeromy will probably let me do it, but I'm surprisingly ok with waiting for now, even though I had been dying to pick one and and announce it the week of our big ultrasound.  So for now, the suspense continues...

Happy April!

***UPDATE***   My little brother TOTALLY fell for it.  He had even played an April Fool's trick on his fiancee, but since they are in Hong Kong right now, April 1st was over by the time they read my post, and he wasn't on the lookout for more trickery.  He sent me an e-mail entitled "Not cool man".  Luckily, Victoria figured out that it was a joke and reassured Travis that he would not, in fact, have to be uncle to a Fitzwilliam.

And the boy child shall be called....

After several months of lists and discussions and pouting, Jeromy and I have finally agreed on a name for our son:

Fitzwilliam Darcy Smith

 Distinguished, right??  For those of you who don't know, Fitzwilliam Darcy is the name of the "hero" in one of my favorite books, Pride and Prejudice.  Jeromy wasn't so sure about the name at first, since it's pretty unusual, but I slowly wore him down won him over by pointing out how many less formal-sounding nicknames we would have to choose from (Fitz, Fitzy, Willy, Darcy, etc.)  We plan to wait until after he is born to decide which nickname seems to suit him the best.  

We can't wait for everybody to meet him when he arrives in just a few short months!