Food Porn

Gestational diabetes is no picnic.
Seriously.  Because at picnics, I think they have cake.  They definitely have cake.  Or at least pie.

The good things about knowing I have gestational diabetes are that I am eating healthier and taking good care of my little twinks by watching my carb intake like it's my job.

But because I am human, and a woman, and I like to complain, I am dedicating this post to foods I miss.
And in the process, kicking myself in the ass for posting pictures of food I can't eat.  

That is some sexy cheese.

Who ate my cake?  I swear, I will guillotine your ass.

Chocolate chips wrapped in baked sugar.  mmmmm

Hot dogs, friend in corn bread.  Genius.  People who don't like these are not my friends.

Pasta Carbonara, a carb lovers dream

There are no words to tell you how much I miss you dear golden friends.

I know Thanksgiving was 4 days ago but one piece just wasn't enough.  Even if my piece was the size of a whole pie.

I love you too.  I really do.

And, because I'm a nerd and bored,  I made you a pie chart to understand how much I miss these foods.  Mmmm, pie.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Now somebody get me an effing fork.

How to Decorate for a Bris

If you're an avid reader, you know I've been thinking about our little boy's Bris for months.  After many discussions, we've decided to have our joint bris and baby naming with just our immediate family.

So I've decided that it's important to find some great party supplies to help us celebrate the event!

It's not extremely easy to plan a boy/girl event without a direct theme but I didn't think an "Elmo" bris was exactly appropriate.

I even looked at specifically Jewish plates/napkins/decorations but they're very traditional and we are celebrating little babies after all.

But then I though long and hard about what a bris is really about.  And it came to me!

 To serve all the guests bagels and lox.

Perfect for mimosas and sodas!

 Nice table accents and great for easy clean up!

Adorable.  Am I right?

Who knew planning a fun and memorable Bris would be so easy?

I am an Ape. And my Husband is Sleeping in the Guest Room.

Josh thinks my pregnant body is the cutest thing he's ever seen.  It's very sweet.  I just hope he still thinks it's cute afterwards when I have a huge bloated belly left over and massive emotional waves due to postpartum depression.  I like to think realistically.

Last night, as I was putting on my pajamas, Josh said he figured out what I reminded him of in my pregnant form. 

And then to further prove his point, in case I didn't understand English, he found a picture on the internet.

I love my husband.

Diagram of a Pregnant Person

This morning as Josh was reading my weekly pregnancy update, he grudgingly informed me that one of the symptoms I could now expect is flatulence.  We both laughed.  I was like, "then what's been going on the last 32 weeks?"

Poor Josh.  His feminine, sweet wife has turned into a farting, burping, peeing-in-her-pants roly poly thing.

Today I decided to make a diagram to better help you understand the different dimensions of a pregnant person.

Diagram of a Pregnant Person:

 Trust me, this is way better than the diagrams they show you in child birth class.

I'm Like Martha Stewart...With Cankles

"How the hell did this happen?" I yell pleadingly at Josh as I look down at my feet that flow right into my calves.  My ankles have disappeared.  They went to the same place as my flat stomach, my sanity, my ability to properly digest carbs and the view below my belly button.

In the process of becoming a waddling duck-like fat person, what hasn't disappeared is my Martha Stewart-like love of all things crafty and girly.  Although I'm still waiting for Martha to come out of the closet.  Not that that has anything to do with being crafty or girly, I'm just saying.

My sister invited us to her house for the Georgia/Kentucky game today.  I may have graduated from Georgia but I don't go for the games.  I go to dress cute and eat food.  It's all about the food.

So yesterday I baked some pumpkin spice cupcakes with cinnamon buttercream frosting and decided they needed a little something extra before I brought them to the game day celebration.

So I made some Georgia pumpkin cupcake toppers.  Josh came home yesterday and was like, "What are you doing?"  I told him I was making cupcake toppers.  He didn't exactly understand the point.  I stated it simply, "I'm busy, not crying and not peeing my pants.  So this is a good thing."

 Silas, the dog, wanted cupcakes too but I don't share with dogs.  They walk on 4 legs and smell.  That's just not normal.  Although, as far as dogs go, Silas isn't so bad.

I can tell you one thing about these cupcakes.  They're not on my Gestational Diabetes diet.  Maybe if I eat one with a hard boiled egg and some almonds.  Because that sounds appetizing. 

My cankles and I are going to go sulk.

Being Normal is Not an Option

I cried last night because I soft boiled what were supposed to be hard boiled eggs.  I cracked 4 of them to prove that they were underboiled and threw them in the trashcan.  Then I cried because I had bought the extra expensive Omega 3 eggs and just wasted them.

So I reboiled the rest and they were still under boiled.
So I threw out 2 more eggs.  And cried more because I had just wasted $1.50.

Josh reboiled the last of them and we played a game of Rummikub to ease the tension.

This morning I ate a perfectly hard boiled egg, thanks to the patience of my husband and the fact that there are more than 6 eggs in a dozen. 
I've been boiling eggs my whole life but, somehow, last night just wasn't meant to be.

You go a little crazy when you're pregnant.
I pee my pants.
I laugh hysterically reading product reviews on Amazon.com.  Then I pee my pants and cry because I peed my pants.
I can't wait for Josh to come home and then spend the whole night being psychotic.
I put on my old jeans and complain that they won't button even though I'm less than 6 weeks away from giving birth.

I don't think I'm going to blame pregnancy for all of this.  I think it's the lack of sugar.

But the doctor said I can have a "free day" on Thanksgiving.

Hold on to your pumpkin pies.  I'm going on a rampage.

A Personal Thank You

A few weeks ago my friends and family hosted an incredible baby shower for me and the kididdles.  I spent that weekend knocking out thank you notes like it was my job.  

Since then, Josh and I have been lucky to receive more gifts.  So thank you note writing has become sort of a professional hobby.  I know that's an oxymoron but I'm okay with that. 

So today, I've decided to donate my time to the masses to teach you how to write a proper thank you note.  I've taken one of my own thank you notes to use as an example:

Thank you note writing should be easy, fun and personal!

In the days of emails and Evites, I think we've lost the personal touch of a hand written note.  And phone calls on birthdays.  Birthday texts just don't do it for me.  And, bringing cake and casseroles to neighbors.  Why the hell aren't my neighbors bringing me cake?

What is the world coming to?

Naked Photos...

Today we had our 32 week appointment at the Perinatologist.  I told my nurse today about our blog and she told the hot doc.  So I won't be surprised if my next appointment is a little awkward.  P.s. Hi doc! Thanks for the ultrasound CD today.  That was way nice.  And your hair looked good.  And you smell like fresh fallen leaves and hot cocoa with marshmallows.

Apparently we have two little beef cakes on our hands.  Our babies each weigh a tad over 4 pounds and have beautiful little body parts.  I know this because we were looking at him and all of a sudden she thought it was a good idea to be like, "Hey Mommy and Daddy and brother, here's my vagina!"  So that was a pleasant surprise. 

And an even bigger surprise-we got a 3-D ultrasound today!  We didn't even know this was going to happen and BAM! Baby A's face all smooshy and yellow and 3-D!  That's our little boy.  He's pretty awesome.

Hi Mommy.  I'm just sitting here peeing and then drinking it again.

Check out that pout and that squishy little nose.  He's a stud muffin like his daddy.  I cried when I saw this little face because Josh and I made that.  Yeah, I know.  We're talented folks.

Above is our little girl.  That's probably the best picture we got of her today.  That is her upside down little foot.  Her face is in there somewhere but she preferred to show us her foot today.  May I just say, that is one adorable foot.

And in a couple of days I'll get to see the OB.  It looks like I'm going to be seeing that guy every week from now on.  It's kind of sad, really, because I pass the McDonald's on the way to his office and I can't stop there.  But Josh already promised me McDonald's in the hopsital.  Suck it Diabetes!

Professional Photo Analysis

I have five words to describe this picture I found on Pinterest.

This bitch is not pregnant.

Car Seat Etiquette

Blog inspiration has been low lately.  Apparently when you do nothing all day, you don't have much to write about. 
But today, I have a very serious issue to blog about.  Car Seats.  Let me give you the 411 on car seat installation.
1.  70-90% of car seats in the US at any given time are installed incorrectly (This means some aren't in tight enough, some aren't put in properly, some children aren't in boosters when they should be, some should be rear facing but are front facing...)

So according to my calculations 70-90% of people suck at reading directions. 
Step 1: Read the car seat manual
Step 2: Read the car manual section on car seats
Step 3: Do what they say.

*And you shouldn't just do this for your infant car seats-Do this every time you get a new car seat.  Don't be a dumb butt head.

Once you have installed your car seat, take it to a certified checker guy.  You can find them here: http://www.nhtsa.gov/

2.  Car Seats EXPIRE.  Did you know this?  At the bottom of your car seat is an expiration date.  Once it hits that date, throw it out.  The whole thing.  That sh*t is donezo. 

 This past weekend Josh and I put the car seats in the car and now I'm having a bit of a problem.  Here is one of our matching car seats.

There are actually two of these things in my back seat right now.

These are nice little car seats, right? Wrong, they're really small yet they're huge.  See, I like to drive sort of like a baller.  I lean back really far in my seat and put the seat back as far as it can go.  It's a little suburban gansta if you will. 

I can tell you right now.  My life is changing.  It only hit me when I sat in the driver's seat of my CRV and realized I was more upright and closer to the wheel than I can ever remember being.  It was a bittersweet moment-Sweet because I will have my little twinkadinks snuggled behind me.  Bitter, because it was so effing uncomfortable.

Luckily, all problems can be solved.  We simply have to buy me a new car.  I've had my car for almost a year and a half and I'm going to miss it but not really because my new car will be bigger, better and shinier-like an upgraded diamond but with heated seats and nav.

Well, hello lover.

Death to the Cat

A few months ago I posted a very PC post about phasing out the cat.  At that time, I was less pregnant, less psychotic and more tolerant.
But today, the cat barfed on the brand new plush carpet on the lower level of the twinkadinks bedroom. 

Let me explain what I don't understand about my stupid whore cat.  Our entire house is hardwood floors except the lower level of the kids' room and our bedroom.  And where does the cat barf every time?  The effing carpet.
It's like she's too hoity toity to barf on the damn floor.

I am an evil sadistic cat.  I will barf on your floors and ruin your life.

Josh recommended we just let the cat out the front door to fend for herself.  But I said that was taking too many chances.  I mean, she could find it's rough out there, having to prostitute herself for cat food.  And I don't think her puffy legs could handle the stilettos and fishnets. (Sorry to any prostitutes who read this for the obvious stereotypes.  I just don't think the cat's innovative enough to think outside the box).  But then she might come back hours later, perfectly fine and ALIVE.

So obviously, that's not a foolproof plan.

We only have one option.  Death.  PETA might come after me for this post but I'll just barf on their carpeted floors and we'll see how they like it.
Now, I know there are "many ways to skin a cat" but I actually want to kill her so we have to get creative.  I was thinking about putting together a little kitty guillotine.  It's just unfortunate that Halloween has already passed because that would have made a good lawn decoration.

If we're going to kill the cat, I want to at least be creative about it, you know?  Maybe we can invite her to have dinner with us and poison her wine.  But we should invite other guests so we have other people to blame for her untimely demise.

We could slowly starve her but I think her fat will maintain her for months and by then the babies will be here and I probably won't care anymore.  And the truth is, I really don't want to drag this thing out.

It really is a good thing I don't have a job because I think this whole murder plan is going to be quite time consuming.

Hospital Preparations

I'm just teetering on the edge of 31 weeks and am starting to think about delivery day and hospital preparations.  Hopefully the babies stay satisfied as womb-mates for another 6ish weeks.

Many people have advised stealing from the hospital.  I don't mind advice that involves stealing. 
I have an itemized list of things to steal from the hospital:

swaddling blankets

pacifiers

newborn diapers

wipes

various lotions

Looking over this list, I've decided if I'm going to steal from the hospital, I'm going to make it worth my while.
Here's my updated list:

incubator

2 nurses (one for each baby)

The McDonald's french fry maker (yes, there's a McDonald's at my hospital)

Dining room trays

3,000 containers of red jello

a hospital bed with remote control

my hot doctor

I've already arranged for the UHaul.

So now I just have to pack my bags so I'm ready when the time comes.  I've started a packing list which I promise I'll post soon.  I'm sure there are many expectant mothers out there that aren't sure what to pack.  Don't you fret your huge bellies about it.  I'm here to make sure you have all the essentials.

Also, did you know pizza places deliver to hospitals? 
I've seriously got this sh*t covered.

The Halloween Without Candy-A Horror Story

Yesterday was the scariest Halloween I can remember since I was a child and had an unfounded fear of trick-or-treaters.  It made leaving the house on Halloween surprisingly difficult.  I also was scared of 4th of July fireworks which is totally random but true, none the less.
Anyway, yesterday was the day I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes!  (cue scary music)  I couldn't believe after years of enjoying sugar, on what should have been the sweetest day of the year, I was being restricted.  WTF Halloween Gods?

I love you candy corn.  You are pure sugary goodness. Never forget that.

The skinny (ahem) on gestational diabetes is that I am pretty much considered a diabetic for the rest of my pregnancy, have to check my blood sugar 4 times a day, count all my carbs and follow a diet from a nutritionist.

According to the American Diabetes Association, you are at higher risk for gestational diabetes if you fit into any of the following categories:

• You're obese (your body mass index is over 30).
• You've had gestational diabetes in a previous pregnancy.
• You have sugar in your urine.
• You have a strong family history of diabetes.

Some practitioners will also screen you early if you have other risk factors, such as:

• You've previously given birth to a big baby. Some use 8 pounds, 13 ounces (4,000 grams, or 4 kilos) as the cutoff; others use 9 pounds, 14 ounces (4,500 grams, or 4.5 kilos).
• You've had an unexplained stillbirth.
• You've had a baby with a birth defect.
• You have high blood pressure.
• You're over 35.

Because I don't fit into any of these categories, I've come to a rock-solid conclusion.  I am magical.  I am a magical sugar fairy.  Where other people lack sweetness, I am overflowing with it.  I'm still working out what all my magic powers are but I assume they're pretty badass.  And I also have a kit with needles to prick fingers which is pretty damn cool.

So I've deemed it my personal responsibility to protect all the world's sugar until my children are born and I can eat it again with reckless abandon.  Watch out Krispy Kreme.  I'm coming for you.  You better have the HOT light on.