a scant six or so weeks...

Until Petunia, aka the L.P., arrives.

K. and I have no real idea how to deal with this, and so in true American fashion, we've bought stuff:

Yesterday, we went to Costco, Wild Oats, Michal's, and Target, in our first-ever shopping spree in Memphis. We now have an IMMENSE amount of food, canned goods, bottled juices, and dog food; we also bought more diapers, creams for various body parts (lanolin for me, Boudreau's Butt paste for the bebe), as well as things I have never ever in my whole life thought about. Like nipple pads.

"What kind of bottles do we need?" K. asked, staring at the 9000 different kinds in the baby section of Target.

I know nothing about babies. I did not babysit them, have a scarcity of cousins, and recall only that my sister was small and red.

"How would I know?" And so K. picked one that has won a gold medal. Onto thermometers and tiny nail scissors and crib sheets.

She moves a lot now, all the time in fact, and I've started having what I assume are Braxton-Hicks contractions and not very pleasant. I'm sporting only my wedding ring now, as my fingers and feet are a bit plumper than usual, and honestly? It's kind of nice when K. pulls me from a sitting position or laces up my Nanook boots:



If the man looks strained, it's because I weigh roughly what a third-rate linebacker might. When you start out as a solid-boned 5-ft-10+ girl, there's not a whole lot of room before the scale starts getting scary.

On the upside, I love walking. It feels awesome, and so the dogs are getting treated to a half-hour loop every am and sometimes in the afternoon too, depending on the work schedule.

We ate our own broccoli for dinner Saturday night:



Which might explain the belly bloat here:



Or it could be the whole baby thing. Who knows?