Pregnancy is a Crazy Thing

Wow...I didn't intend to go more than a week between posts. If I'm this bad now, I can only imagine it won't get better after the baby comes! This pregnancy thing is becoming a detriment to my health (mental and physical). Allow me to illustrate:

Over the weekend, which was snowy and gray and lovely by the way, I had planned to try a new broccoli cheddar soup recipe. I was so looking forward to putting on my comfy clothes and enjoying a yummy bowl of soup and some rolls I made to go with it. As I finished the soup and got ready to pour it into the blender to puree, I decided I would add a little extra chicken broth to it, since I happened to have some leftover in the refrigerator. I quickly grabbed the container in which I had stored the broth and dumped it into the pot in one fell swoop. I immediately got a sense of something being wrong, and opened up the fridge. That is when I saw the chicken broth sitting nicely on the bottom shelf in a container exactly identical to the one in which I had stored the six egg whites that I had just poured into the soup. Let me just tell you that if you do a side-by-side of six egg whites and one cup of chicken broth in identical containers, you might how I made such a mistake (although Husband swears he would have noticed the difference). By the time I realized what had happened and looked back into the pot, the soup had started morphing into a broccoli/egg drop soup concoction that looked less than appetizing. I realized there was no saving it and began to tear up. Husband, laughing hysterically, proposed that we stir it until all the egg whites cook then scoop them out. That didn't work too well, as you can see...

The fruit of my labor...completely spoiled.
This is what Husband now refers to as my broccoli egg drop soup.

Now, on to the other recent detriment of pregnancy - clumsiness. As Connor and I walked hand-in-hand from our van to the sidewalk in front of Cost Plus yesterday, a nice couple in a pickup stopped to let us pass in front of them. I turned to wave and thank them without noticing that I had approached the curb. Mid-wave, my right foot caught on the curb and I began to go over. I remember thinking to myself, "Nobody really falls like this, I'll be able to catch myself." I tried to bring my left foot up to put it in front of me and catch my fall, but it failed to cooperate and also got stuck on the curb (this was a very high curb, by the way). I would say that I fell flat on my face, but my ever-protruding belly prevented my face from hitting the pavement. My arms splayed out in front of me, my purse flew off my shoulder, and I lay sprawled across the sidewalk feeling so much pain all at once that I didn't know if I was actually injured or just in shock. As I tried to get up I was suddenly aware of the pickup that had stopped for me. It pulled up next to me and the couple in it were bursting out the passenger window with exclamations of concern for me. They were so adamant - including getting out of the vehicle to help me up and check on me - that you would have thought they actually hit me. After regaining my composure and assuring them that it was in fact my ego that was causing me the most pain, I had three thoughts - in this order:

1. "Gosh, I didn't think it was possible to actually be on my belly!"
2. "Actually, that was kind of funny - I wish Husband could have seen that."
3. "Holy crap! I'm 8 months pregnant and I just landed on my belly!"

After monitoring the baby's movement for awhile I realized that he was hardly moving. Now, as anyone who has carried a baby will tell you, this doesn't necessarily mean anything; he could have been napping. Concerned, I headed over to Chick-Fil-A to load myself up with sugar from their most delicious lemonade. Usually sugar gets an immediate response from the little guy - and believe me, I don't like to deprive him! Still nada. So, after consulting my uber-cautious mother, I called my doctor's office to ask what I should watch for. They immediately told me to report to labor and delivery at the hospital so that they could monitor the baby. Okay - long story short: Baby is fine, I'm fine (save the scraped knee which still smarts), and I'm contracting every 6-12 minutes, which is just something I do when I'm pregnant.

My knee- I know it doesn't look like much, but man! It hurts!

And now, after working on this post for far longer than it's worth - something like four days - I am signing off. On to new endeavors. Stephen's sister, her husband and her two boys are here visiting so I'm sure there will be adventures to report...if only I could become more disciplined!