(*My girlfriends sent me a message on Facebook with that very greeting. Aw.)
Good Lord. Today is 36 weeks. I am officially nine months pregnant. Aside from growing my hair, school, (and a stint living in Montreal), I’ve never done anything this difficult, for this long, in my life. 😀 I wanted to take another selfie to commemorate the occasion, but honestly, I’m feeling like I’ve got a watermelon strapped to my frame, and not at all very photogenic at the moment.
So instead, here’s a picture of a watermelon-as-baby.
I’m horrified, but I can’t. stop. laughing.
Oh, and speaking of watermelon, these:
Come on. SO cute. Much better than that thing I posted above.
I know this was a disappointing post. I’m sorry. I usually dislike when my favourite bloggers post nonsensical shit like this (assuming that I am one of your favourite bloggers). Never mind. I have a few posts in the works, so you’ll hear from me over the next coupla days. I’m feeling prolific; I might as well write while I can. I don’t know if I’ll have any energy at all to do so by next month.
I’ve been a bit incognegro these last few days. I had a rather big writing assignment to complete, as well as a few engagements, and then there was my un-shower…so I had good reason for not blogging. Or, at least, that’s what I’m telling myself. And you.
first things first…
Last Friday marked 34 weeks. My little peanut is actually the size of a honeydew melon (finally, produce that I enjoy eating!) and will prolly remain about that size for the next two weeks or so. She has been transverse breech for the majority of this pregnancy, but lately has taken to basically standing upright (footling breech) in the womb, feet kicking my bladder. Fun.
high tea at the Windsor Arms…
What more can I say? It was High Tea. At the Windsor Arms. And it was lovely. We wore fascinators. And took pics. We looked great! We had canapés and mini-sandwiches, and quiches with fancy stuff in’em. The scones were OFF THE CHARTS (though I really could have done without the desserts. They were only “meh.”) My girls surprised me with a little mom-to-be evening out, including a GC for a mani and pedi. Aw. I’m not a spa-girl, but I will haul my heavy backside out to Bayview Village and get my F&Ts done.
The fabulous five and their four fascinators.
Were it not for Google doodles, I’d be pretty uninformed.
Apparently, Children’s Day was proclaimed by the UN General Assembly in 1954. A globally recognized day, its goal is to promote the welfare of the world’s children – especially those living in poor conditions, or those who have suffered violence, discrimination and exploitation.
It’s fitting, I suppose, as today is also the day that one of my dear friends undergoes her second IVF harvesting. Round one was successful, and the result is an adorable, tiny yet feisty almost-two-year-old by the name of Naomi.
I am praying that the second round is successful. And that the result is a boy-baby. There’s too much estrogen happening among my friends and family (more than 10 little girls in the past two years, compared to a measly three boys). We are in dire need of some penis to make things a little more interesting – and a lot less pink – around here.
Crush WIne Bar FTW! I had the potato gnocchi with roasted peppers and spinach in a goat cheese cream. I finished up with this badboy for dessert. Coffee glazed donut. Yum!
I have a group of girlfriends (we call ourselves the BGs – short for Bajan Girls) that I get together with every now and then. I’ve known most of these girls for about 10-plus years. We started out as a fairly large bunch (I think it was 11-deep at its max), but as time wore on and true colours were revealed, the posse has dwindled to a much more manageable five or six.
We meet at each other’s houses to have a few drinks, laugh, and share milestones and offer words of support in difficult times. We celebrate births and birthdays, promotions and, really, just about any excuse at all to see each other. Next to my cousins (whom I will write about soon enough), these girls are my everything. Mush, mush…
It’s Summerlicious in the city, and it’s one of our traditions to meet up for a gourmet meal at a spot we’ve never been to before. Monday was our only mutually free day, so yesterday we met at Crush Wine Bar on King street for a long overdue grub and gab session.
I got downtown about 45 minutes ahead of our 6 pm seating. It was a scorcher of a day, and I had parked about a block away, so I sat in the shelter of my still-cool car before heading to the resto. During that time, my friend Waveney called to get directions. She was on foot, so I told her to walk to my car and then we’d head over together. About 10 minutes later, she was at my passenger side door. As she climbed in, hot and cursing, she blurted, “You know, I had this feeling that you were going to tell us that you’re pregnant.” Continue reading