Mooo Mooo Cow Phase

I've officially entered the cow phase of pregnancy. You know - that point at about 33-34 weeks when you are so large you feel like you can no longer walk, breathe, sleep or function normally. And no matter how small you start out, I'm pretty sure that at this point every mama feels like any day now, she may just start Mooing. I've created a list of clues you may be entering the Cow Phase of pregnancy...

1. You feel like there is never enough space for you in the bed and regulate your husband to the very edge of the mattress so you can fully expand your legs and arms in any position you deem comfortable at the moment. You may start to take up residence in the guest room just to have the bed to yourself.
2. Your lungs are so smushed inside your chest cavity that even the slightest of movements cause you to get winded. Going up and down the stairs is reserved only for emergencies.
3. Your boobs begin to resemble utters. Enough said.
4. You have to adjust the seat in your car too allow for extra room between your belly and the steering wheel.
5. You thank God daily that you can no longer see past your belly, because between your swollen feet and the massive cankles, it's a blessing they are hidden from your view.
6. You decide that no one in the world has it as bad as you. Especially your husband. And if he tries to complain about ANYTHING, you quickly remind him of your aching va-jay-jay, back and hip joints. And then throw in a "You can never understand because you are a MAN!" just for good measure.
7. You check pregnancy-related websites daily to see if what you are feeling could signify impending labor, how early it would be safe for your baby to arrive, and secretly research ways to naturally induce labor because you are pretty much DONEZO with being prego.
8. Feeling irritable is an understatement.
9. Wearing prints is out of the question, as a tiny flower suddenly turns into a rose garden as it stretches across your belly. Words and images become unidentifiable as a good third of the design gets sucked into the crease between your boobs and belly.
10. You wonder if sitting in a kiddie pool, in your backyard, by yourself, for hours on end is appropriate. You decide you don't care what other people think, and do it anyway.

I'll Snatch Your Kid!

As mamas, we know people tend to say very strange things to us and to our babies. Grocery stores, Target and restaurants seem to be where these loose-lipped people gather. Oh, and come to find out, Children's Hospitals. Most of the time it's stuff you can easily brush off - like comments about how your child is/isn't dressed (Oh! No shoes today?!), their binkys (My child stopped using a binky at 3 months - isn't she kind of old to still be using one?) and any other subject people seem themselves experts on. But there is one particular comment I get every few weeks that REALLY frosts my cookies - "She is so cute! Better watch out, because someone might snatch her when you turn your back!"

EXCUUUUUUUUSE ME?! Did you just say my child is going to be kidnapped?

And I'm not talking about the times people say things like - I want to take her home with me! - or stuff like that. I consider that still in the range of normal. But referencing kidnapping? Not so funny.

The most awkward time this was said was in January when we rushed Miss Paige to the Children's Hospital because of a super high fever. As the doctor was leaving the room, she turned around in the doorway and said with a straight face, "You better keep a close eye on her! She's likely to get snatched one day!"  Daniel and I just stared at the doctor, both with blank looks upon our faces. Did she really just say that?! We were speechless.

Another time, I was in line at Subway with Paige when a woman walking by stopped, looked at Paige, and said, "If she were alone, I'd grab her and bring her to Hollywood. I'd be rich!"  No lie.

Today in Target as I was browsing the diaper/wipes aisle looking for a good deal on Huggies wipes, a woman approached me from behind and said, "Could you turn your back for a second so I can take your baby?" She was smiling... I wasn't. SO not funny. I made a beeline out of the aisle before she tazed me or made a grab at Paige. Back that stuff up, lady!

While I love Nancy Grace and watch her show religiously, I'm not trying to be the next mugshot featured after I'm arrested for vigilante justice as a result of some psycho getting too close to my babies. However, I think I'm going to start wearing a sign around my neck that says, "BEWARE OF OVERPROTECTIVE MOM!" and maybe put one on Paige that says, "THINK BEFORE SAYING SOMETHING STUPID - MY MOM IS A BEAST!" : )

Packing My Hospital Bag

In the 16 months that passed since I gave birth to Miss Paige, I've gotten significantly wiser. No, not about everything - I still only wash my face once a day, I drink way too much caffeine (when I'm not prego) and I still despise folding laundry. 16 months can't produce a miracle, after all! : ) But I have gotten smarter about packing a suitcase. Instead of throwing in every variation of an outfit I own just in case I feel like wearing it, I've streamlined the process. I take the time to think through what I'll actually be doing on the trip and go with the basics. This is a major step for someone who used to pack a separate suitcase just for shoes (My justification: I have size 10 feet! How were those suckers gonna fit in with all the clothes?!)

So this week during Paige's "nap-nap sleepytime" I'm putting together my hospital bag so it's ready in case of any craziness going on between now and mid-June - and if I do say so myself, it's VERY practical (not normally a term most would use to describe me). Here's what is in there so far:

• Three stretchy tanktops (That allow for easy-access breastfeeding. Left at home: The nursing camisoles I just HAD to have last time - that ended up being so darn tight I could barely breathe, let alone produce an adequate milk supply.)
• Three pairs of pajama shorts (Technically men's boxer shorts. Replacing my multiple nightgowns and cute sleepwear... I don't sleep in that stuff as it is for fear of it wrapping around my body like a boa constrictor - so my normal sleepwear should be just fine.)
• One pair of rubber flip flops (Last time around I brought cute slippers. Upon my arrival home they immediately hit the trash can because I couldn't stand the thought of bringing grimy hospital floor grossness into my house. These flip flops can be bleached and sprayed with a hose before reentry.)
• One lightweight robe (I brought my big comfy wooly red and leopard print one last time - I had it on for 0.2 seconds when I experienced a post-partum hot flash for the first time.)
• My breast pump (Things don't start flowing as quickly when you have a planned C-section... gotta get those juices flowing! Also included are sterilization bags and storage bottles.)
• Boppy (A single piece of cotton inserted into a pillow case does not constitute a pillow.)
• Toiletries (I think this goes beyond saying - everyone needs to bring their own soap, shampoo, conditioner, facewash, razor, toothbrush and toothpaste... I just got sliced open for goodness sake - mama needs some comfort.)

And now for a few things I deem necessary - but may seem impractical for some:

• My own handsoap (Nothing grosses me out more than the smell of hospital handsoap - so I'm bringing my own. Bath and Body Works' Coconut Lime Verbena to be exact. Don't worry - it's anti-bacterial : )  )
• Febreeze (Last time around I smuggled in a relaxation candle - it was confiscated within the hour : (  This time I'm bringing something a little more "legal and hospital friendly" to help freshen up the room.)
• Miralax (Whatever they gave me last time didn't work - like, at all. I wasn't able to poop for days until I took some Miralax. As for the prune juice? You can still bring it to the room - my husband enjoys it's putrid flavor.)

And I think that's it... Anything I'm forgetting??