6.

6 months is like this.

My hair feels so luscious I never want pregnancy to end. I swear it holds a curl better. (Maybe this is just in grand comparison to how dastardly thin my hair usually is.) My hands are getting a little pudgy and my face is rounding out along with my body. No stretch marks yet, Huzzah!

My brain is completely taken over by pregnancy instincts and hormones. One word: Nesting. I am quite the nester in everyday life. I love projects, decorating, fantasizing about setting up a room, but now I'm on overdrive. There is an entire apartment building full of well furnished nurseries in my mind. I only think in HGTV. It's a little bit psychotic and a lot bit fun.

With a few months to go I'm finally breaking down and preparing myself to buy a few maternity items. I've coasted along thus far with a few borrowed bottoms, tops, and some flowing shirts from my own closet. Did I always look pregnant in these big shirts?! My best friends these days are leggings. I love them. So soft and un-rubby on baby. Jeans make me feel like an abusive mother.

I'm obsessed with baby boy and love to feel him kick. It is the best. I bought him yellow linen pants and they make me want to cry every time I see them. I talk to him each time I drive to work like a crazy person.

My midnight snacks have calmed down but I'm still off to de-and-rehydrate frequently through the witching hours. For the first time ever I'm hot and Phil is cold in our room. He's sneaking blankets.

So that's pregnancy in a tiny nutshell for me as of late. This is starting to feel like a run on sentence. Maybe it has something to do with the glucose test I took a few hours ago? (Where you drink the sugar-drink that tastes like concentrated fanta.) Yes, maybe that is it. On to the latest bump-a-bump pictures!

my life is.

Excuse my camping hair. Baby boy and I!

camping with family

rooting for the giants

growing a tummy

watching people get hitched

refinishing some furniture

hunting for an apartment

planning for baby

working

feeling and now SEEing baby boy kick!

playing with friends

saying goodbye to Tara (She's off to University of Washington!)

rooting for Phil who just finished up his internships and headed back for year two of law school

and of course... waking up to snack:)

last night, I had a dream.

Every night of my new pregnant life I do three things; scurry to the restroom, switch sides I'm slumbering on, and dream wild and crazy dreams. Many nights there is a fourth element to my nocturnal existence. You may know it by the acronym PBJ. That's right, the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Many a midnight I wake up desperately hungry. It's like a 3 alarm fire of urgency. I run upstairs, make a PB with or without the J, run downstairs, scarf, and fall back into a pregnant coma. 

Last night was one of those fateful, hungry nights. I could hardly get the peanut butter onto the bread fast enough. Then came a slathering of raspberry jam.  I was eating like a fat kid sneaking candy. All was well until it came time to clean up. Peanut butter and bread back in the pantry, dishes in the dishwasher, and then jam... Where was the jam lid? I looked in the dishwasher, in the sink, in the pantry, on the floor. The kitchen was pristine. WHERE WAS THE JAR's LID?? I gave up and went to bed.

Cut to this morning when PG came into the room smirking. Here's our dialogue...

PG: "I have a question for you... when was the last time you made a sandwich?"

guiltily I responded "1 am last night..."

PG: "Were you missing anything?"

AG: "Where was the jelly lid?!!"

{laughter}

PG: "In the peanut butter jar."

IN THE PEANUT BUTTER JAR MY FRIENDS, IN THE PEANUT BUTTER JAR! I dropped the jelly lid into the peanut butter jar with my own hands.  It makes perfect sense... I'm losing my marbles.