Sleep: the final frontier

Every morning, Dan asks me, "How did you sleep?" Recently, its been "Not so good." He can tell it was a good night, when I say that I managed to get 3 or 4 consecutive hours of sleep. Otherwise, I was awake every 1.5-2 hours. Usually with a bout of alertness at 4am, when my brain wakes up and refuses to shut down pondering anything from diapers to ways to stop Dan from snoring (sometimes the only solution I can come up with is a permanent one).
I've been told that this is my body preparing for what is to come. The reality is, I hate the practise. I wish that I could sleep through the night and save up sleep for the deprivation to come.
Its just another one of those lies that people tell you to make you feel better. Much like the "your baby is healthier when you're throwing up." That's not comforting...its annoying. (it really makes you want to puke on the person telling you this wonderful tidbit)
Sleep is blissful....give me every last moment I can have of it, before the baby takes it from me permanently.

Road Rash Warrior

Monday morning, Amanda went on a trip. Down the sidewalk....literally down on the sidewalk. She tripped on the curb on the way to the bus, stumbled a few steps before going down and sliding down the sidewalk. She flew about 9 feet.

The wounds in these pictures are already a week old and healing quite nicely. The swelling has subsided and her knee and both hands have returned to "normal" size (minus the pregnant swelling).

The downside of falling (hehehe), is that in the process of landing, the large belly stuck out and got landed on. This probably stunned the baby and it refused to move for the next two hours, which by our child's standards is an extremely long time to stay still. The midwife recommended a trip to the hospital to get checked out. Of course, our baby, being who it is and "loving" hospitals, began to protest as soon as the nurses started to strap on any type of instrument. What followed in the next twenty minutes, was the worse case of hiccups known to man, followed by some intense kicking and punching (and probably screaming, if it could), to try and remove the fetal heart monitor. Needless to say, "it's alive!!!!!!" and we were discharged without further incident.

But now, every time Amanda leaves the house, Dan likes to tease her by saying, "Don't trip on the curb on your way out!"

Does this bike make me look fat?

Here I am, 7.5 months pregnant, still riding a bike. Yep, just another one of those things that I did to help Dan achieve a million steps and win a bike. If only this bike wasn't "borrowed........."

I only wish Dan would let me back on the bike after my recent meeting with the sidewalk.