Just an uppity update of sorts.....

For those of you who are as mathematically retarded as I am, I thought I would translate my little countdown baby on the side of my blog page for you:
One hundred and seventy-some days until the baby comes means I'm now 15 weeks along! *whew*

For as much time that has passed since I first discovered I was 'knocked up', I'm certain I should be like 13 months along by now. WAY overdue.

Many of you have asked how I'm feeling...and I gotta tell ya, as soon as that 12 or 13 weeks hit, I miraculously felt quite a bit of the pukiness subside! I'm still UN-FREAKIN-BELIEVABLY tired 24/7, but I'll take that over being best friends with the porcelain god ANYDAY! I'm fortunate enough that Liv is still young enough that she takes naps daily and any genius knows that Livie taking naps=Mommy takes naps. I tend to still feel a bit yucky in the late afternoon/evening, but it's SO much better than it was.

In other news on the home front: My jubblies are still growing at rapid speed. God loves me.
My stomach on the other hand has seemed to pause right at that 'oh, is she chubby or pregnant?' stage. God laughs at me.

Speaking of knockers: I'm going to tell you a humiliating story, which is one of those that I now can look back on and laugh about. YES, those kinds of stories really DO exist!!

I believe it was about a month or two after Liv was born that I decided to don a halter top and skirt and take her down to the pool at our apartment for some nice relaxation in the summer shade. We both enjoyed being outside for a time but then that paranoid 'I'm going to suffocate my baby in this heat' fear came over me, so we packed up and headed back to the car, but not before stopping by the office to drop our rent check off and show off 'the new baby'. We stayed and chatted with the nice office ladies for quite sometime, then said our goodbyes and made our way back to the car.
Now, let me share this little side note before I continue with my story: I never breastfed Olivia. It was just a personal choice I made: I just didn't want to, and I have not regretted it since. Well, apparently your boobilies don't just 'shut off' all production EVEN AFTER TWO FREAKING MONTHS. APPARENTLY my knockers were pissed off at said decision that I had made regarding not breast feeding and decided to play a cruel, cruel joke on me.
So, here we are wandering back to the car and I stop to unlock the car door and happen to glance at myself in window, and *GASP!!* I had a GIANT wet spot RIGHT on my left knocker!!!

OMG.

I guess I should clarify that it was no longer wet but a dried wet outline on my shirt which meant that it had been there the ENTIRE time I was talking to those delightfully child-free office ladies.

*sigh*

And so motherhood reared it's ugly head at me quite early on, and has not relented in other ways since....