I have managed to hold onto a few tidbits over the last couple days, so I'm going to try and regurgitate as much as I can before I lose another golden nugget. Like a hilarious Jerryism muttered under his breath while we drove to Harrisburg. It was so good that I actually wrote it down on the back of our directions ... then promptly threw it out when we got home. Damn. That one had me laughing for hours, too. And I haven't the slightest clue even what it was about anymore. Something spurred by road rage, I'm sure.
So, here it is, a race to empty my mental notes before they drain out of my still-iffy left ear:
- Did you know that pregnancy really is 10 months? I'm not sure who came up with that whole 9-month lie thing, but I could strangle them. Every book and website is different, so I've strictly been going by the calendar: I got pregnant at the beginning of February, which would make July my sixth month. But when I asked the nurse what month I'm considered to be in, she sort of looked confused and answered "I guess five" -- even though we were there for our SIXTH four-week checkup. And if you go by weeks, a pregnancy is considered full-term at 40 weeks. How many weeks in a month? Usually four. Forty divided by four? That's math even I can handle: ten. TEN MONTHS. Please pass it along.
- We got another glimpse of our growing daughter and, yes, she's still a girl. Jerry made sure to ask that she still had "a hamburger and not a hot dog," to which I envisioned him someday saying, "Wipe your hamburger, honey," and then having one very confused, wide-eyed child when we fired up the grill later that night. She is so big now that the nurse globbed the warm ultrasound jelly all the way up to my ribcage, and she had a hard time getting a full fetal image on the screen. As I expected, our daughter was not cooperating and was still lying spine-up, making a clear image of her heart more than a little difficult to obtain. In a last-ditch effort, the nurse sort of pushed the wand against my belly in rapid succession to get her to respond and she flipped just enough. The whole thing left Jerry joking about how stubborn and strong-willed she's going to be, but I have a feeling the joke will be on us in a few years.
- Conversation with the bookstore cashier while Jerry was paying for our copy of "The Deathly Hollows":
" Would you like the free poster with that?"
"Aw, c'mon Jerry, we could hang it above the bed in the bedroom."
"If we start putting posters up, then I'm definitely getting a UFC one for the living room."
"No poster it is then."
- While we were in Harrisburg, we decided to roam around a few of the shopping centers before coming home. To kill time before lunch, we stopped at an Old Navy and perused the newborn section. I'm still very uncertain about the whole clothing size issue. If she's big, we won't need much 0-3 months stuff. If she's little, we may need it for awhile. And because it's going to be cold, do we buy the current short-sleeve stuff in a 6-12 month size? Or the 3-6 month size? I have no idea. So, because of my inexperience and total confusion on the subject, we've stuck to basics like onesies. They're cheap, she'll go through them like diapers and whatever size we buy will fit her at some point. We spotted an awesome one on the sale rack with a giant alligator stitched into the side. Next to it was a pile of matching rattles also on sale. So we bought the onesie for the baby and the rattle for Toby. Wouldn't you know he completely loves it. Carries it around and shakes his head violently just to hear the beads tumble around in the center. He'll always be our first child.