H2-Eau

I don't speak French. Not even close, if you can come close to speaking a language.

One thing I do know is that "water" in French is "eau." While I'm not positive, I believe this is pronounced rather like "oh." I also happen to know that it would be very awkward for me to use this word in casual conversation.

I tried when I went to France. Because I wanted to be cool. This is probably how it happened:

The french waiter with the twirly mustache (no, I don't think he actually had one, but he should have) looked at me expectantly for my drink order and I said, "Oh."

Does no one else find this weird? Seriously, if someone said that to me, I would think they had just remembered something ("Oh!") or had a sudden painful feeling in their stomach ("Oooh"). I would not think, "Ah, this person would like some water." I just wouldn't. So I can't imagine anyone would think that when I said it to them.

Anyway, this post is not about the French language. It's about eau. No, I didn't just remember something. I meant it's about water.

When I went in for my last ultrasound (pics of my innards can be found here), the technician casually mentioned, as I was leaving, that I should be drinking lots of water. I mean, really like thrown in as a side note as I was walking out the door. I don't think she noticed anything weird or anything.

Although, it wouldn't have surprised me if she did. Like, wouldn't have surprised me if she was like, "Hmm...looks like your blood is carbonated," or something like that.

Because here's the thing: I don't drink water.

GASP!

But really, I don't. Water bores me. I need excitement in my life. I love bubbles. Soda is my best friend. We've have sleepovers and paint each others' toenails. Juice is my very good friend. We do lunch and shopping and gossip about the unpopular kids.

Like water.

The most unfortunate part of my attitude towards water is pretty obvious: water is like the freaking best thing you can put in your body. And yes, soda and juice have water in them...but apparently putting sugar and flavors and stuff in water detracts from its amazing nutritional value.

Oh and also...don't tell me that flavored water is a compromise. I would much rather stay on speaking terms with you. That stuff is nashty.

Anyway, the point is, I took ultrasound technician lady's words to heart. She's right - I do need to drink lots of water. My baby needs water. I need water. It's like, a freaking life force. More hydration equals more energy and fewer headaches. I'm all about that.

Although I haven't had a headache in a while anyway...maybe I don't need this after all...

Ok, that was the evil little voice in my head/taste buds. It has been silenced.

So anyway, this has been the story of how a large jug of water became my close friend.

Or at least, one of those fake friends your mom makes you hang out with because no one else will.

And please, don't think you have to tackle me if you see me drinking soda. I didn't say I was giving that up, did I? Who do you think I am, Buddha? No. Just drinking less of the bubbly stuff and more of the pure stuff.

Bets on how long this lasts?

Size: Prego

I very much like shopping.

I don't even necessarily have to buy anything...just walk around and look at lovely things and know that they are there for me to buy, if I had the money/desire to buy them.

Oh, who am I kidding? It's much more fun when you can actually buy something.

But I am a very careful buyer. I'm not a very trendy person. I really only buy something if I'm fairly to moderately positive that there is a high probability of my wearing/using the item for years to come. I'm proud to say that this is absolutely true.

Which, I just realized (I mean really, just realized. We are discovering things together, reader - you and I), is probably why shopping for maternity clothes is proving to be...well...frustrating.

And yes - the time has come. I mean, I'm not suddenly in dire need of a whole new wardrobe or anything. In fact, I still have no trouble at all fitting into most of my pants. But the shirts...well, it just gets a little annoying to have to keep constantly pulling them down. I can still comfortably wear probably a third of what I have. But what's more, I don't want to stretch anything out to the point that it's unwearable post-partum.

I don't really know the first thing about buying maternity clothes. Well, that might not be true...since the first thing is probably that they are usually bought by pregnant women. But the second, third, and all subsequent things, I am a little bit lost on.

For instance - will the maternity clothes that fit me now still fit me in 3 months? I mean, they're not sized from month to month, so I assume that they are made to fit throughout your pregnancy. But I also don't want to have tons of barely worn clothes that I can't squeeze my ginormous 8 month tum into.

And I don't want to spend precious house-down-payment dollars on clothes that I'll only wear for a month.

That's the other thing - helllloooo expensive! I mean, ok, it's not that bad. Shirts for $15-$20 really aren't that bad, compared to some other things. I'm not looking for Gucci prego sweatpants, or anything. It probably just seems so pricey because we are trying so hard NOT to spend money. And I found some cute stuff on Down East Basic's website for $5, which is suh-weet. But still...if I have to buy a lot of this stuff... it's gonna add up. I also tried a thrift store... to very discouraging results. And no, I'm not above shopping at a thrift store! Are you?

But seriously - found nothing.

I went over to my aunt's house to borrow some of the large stock of clothing she's collected over the years. The thing is, all of it is kind of on the large side. And while I'm willing to sacrifice some style in the name of frugality, I still want to look...well, nice. There are a few things in there I can use, because they tie in the back and I can cinch them up as needed, but the majority of it is most likely going to go unworn. Sigh...some of it is cute too.

Anyway, I will survive. A lot of the shirts I have are pretty long to begin with, so they will work for now. And I found a couple reasonably priced things at Target. AND my darling husband has assured me that, if it makes me happy, I can spend the money. And he was totally sincere.

But that sounds like a guilt trip just waiting to happen.

So...advice?

Oh, and in case you're wondering about the little one who's causing all this trouble...

I went in for another ultrasound on Tuesday. At the first one, when we found out the gender, the baby wasn't really moving enough for the technician to get quite all the measurements she and the doctor wanted, so she had me come back. We got some better pictures this time - post-worthy pictures, as a matter of fact. Check it:

Here's his cute little alien face (technician lady says he has chubby cheeks!):


And a little foot, which is being thoroughly exercised, by the feel of things:


And, my personal favorite, the profile:



And, of course, as this little guy grows, so do I. Here I am, sporting the 23 week tum:


I so look pregnant. My sister said I look "huuuuuge," and I'm thinking, "Uh, first of all, this picture was taken at night, right after a big meal...so basically when I'm my largest, thank you very much. And secondly, I'm going to get bigger. Probably much bigger. Let's save the huuuuuges for then."

But I do love having a tum! For now.

Spontaneity

"Somebody help me! I'm being spontaneous!"

Name that movie. I'll give you a cyber-hug.

So. I'm not an especially spontaneous person. I like having a plan. Or at least time to plan. Then even if I don't use it wisely I can say "Well, it's my own fault. I had time to plan." Anyway, I'm really not a "just do it" kind of gal.

Which is why, when I'm at work and I get a text from my husband at 2:30 saying he's had a rough day and that he would like nothing better than to leave at 6 and go camping, I have a small freak out party in my head.

"Where are we going to go camping?"
"Won't it be dark when we get there?"
"What are we going to eat?"
"Camping?"

So I text back: "is there anything besides camping you would like to do? something that might require a little less preparation?"

To which he replies: "I can't think of anything. And I really don't think it will be that much preparation - I just want to get away with you. We'll come back in the morning."

Aw.

So I agree.

We stop by Wal-Mart to get some stuff for breakfast, and go to Wendy's in Payson for dinner. The drive is pretty nice, and not too long.

We get to the campsite well after dark and Dallin sets everything up. By this time, I have to...you know... go. I am prego, after all. I tell Dallin of my need, and he responds by pointing the flashlight off into the woods. Ha. Right.

We had driven by some restrooms while in search for our campsite, so we make a trip back. While they certainly aren't pleasant (aka gag me), it was better than going to pee in the woods in unfamiliar territory in the dark, so I suck it up.

We are already pretty tired by this time, so we play a quick game of Skip-Bo and hit the sack.

Let the fun begin.

I have claustrophobic tendencies. I blame my grandma. I don't know if claustrophobia is hereditary, but I still blame her. I shouldn't...that's not very nice if it isn't her fault. Anyway, mine isn't nearly as bad as hers. I can sleep in a sleeping bag. Heck, I can sleep in a sleeping bag inside a tent. But put me in a sleeping bag inside a tent in 80 degree heat with a boy right next to me who wants to snuggle with me, and I kinda start feeling like I'm never going to escape. Snuggling became outlawed, which was unfortunate.

Also, sleeping bags are difficult to roll over in. A pregnant woman sleeping on a hard surface needs to roll over 763 times during the night, give or take. This led to much discomfort and frustration.

And large, beetle-type bugs kamikaze-ing into the outside of your tent as they try to get into the inside of your tent? Well, they don't exactly lull you to sleep. They make you feel like you have little pesky thingys all over your body.

Sleep came sporadically.

My first thought when I wake up in the morning - if you can really call it waking up when you've already been awake about 12 times before that - "I have to pee."

I don't want to drive down to the nasty restroom. I also want to prove to my hubby that I can pee in the woods. The thing is, I can't pee in the woods! Like, it doesn't happen. Not without stripping down. And I don't want to do that.

So I start getting creative. The solution?

"Hey Dallin?"
"Hm?"
"You want to go get one of those Wendy's cups out of the car for me?"

No, I don't go in the Wendy's cup in our tent, thank you very much. I go in the Wendy's cup in the woods.

Because if there's one thing a pregnant woman can do, it's pee in a cup.

After that excitement (well, during it, since it still took freaking forever because I'm lame like that), Dallin makes us a yummy pancakes and bacon breakfast. Dallin does most of the packing up, and I make trips up and down a decent-sized hill to load the car up. I only fall once. And it was graceful. Ok, no it wasn't. And I'm going to have a bruise.

Then we walk down to the river and explore a little bit before heading home.

About 7 minutes into the drive, we pull over so I could brush one of the large, beetle-type kamikaze bugs OFF MY LEG.

When we get home, we take a nap.

Because you know, getting away is tiring. And spontaneous getting away is downright exhausting.

But hey, it was nice to get away, and even nicer to do something that my sweet, thoughtful husband really wanted to do.

Especially because now he owes me.

Dear Mr. Dryer

Dear Mr. Dryer,

First of all, allow me to say that you are a fabulous machine. You and your kind have done wonders for me and my kind. For that, I thank you.

But now I must pick a bone with you.

It's an expression. It mean we've got problems, you and I.

The thing is, you are a dryer. A DRYer.

Runners run. Timers time. Bakers bake.

Dryers....

DRY.

They dry. This is the wonderful cause you were born to fulfill. Wet things become dry within you! No clothes, towels, or even shoes can withstand your heated tossing that leads to wonderful, wearable DRYNESS.

And this should all happen quickly. I should be able to run you for one cycle - one brief 45 minute-ish interval - and everything you hold within your cavern of drying power should be (say it with me) dry.

Let me break it down for you: WET. ONE CYCLE. DRY.

Let's just try to remember that, shall we?

And remember this as well: those lint traps don't clean themselves.

I believe I've made myself perfectly clear.

Sincerely,
Katie
Pregnant Katie
Pregnant Katie Who Is Often Very Tired
Pregnant Katie Who Is Often Too Tired to take 8 Hours to do Laundry
Pregnant Katie Who Is Often Too Tired to take 8 Hours to do Laundry and Is Frequently Armed with a Baseball Bat

P.S. You are noisy. Anything we could do about that?


UPDATE: So I wrote this post last night. This morning, Dallin tells me that he FIXED THE DRYER after I went to bed last night. Without being asked. Without even being complained to. The "Twilight Zone" theme song echoed through the room.

I'm not saying the universe somehow absorbed my written-but-unpublished thoughts and then passed them on to my husband.

All I'm saying is that I'm writing "Dear Mr. Kitchen Who Doesn't Clean Himself" right now.

Post-Potter

It was awesome.

I am tired.

But really, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

All previous thoughts still stand. No, they didn't always stick to the book. But as a movie, it was suh-weet. Best one yet, I'd say.

However, there is one final thing that should have been included in the last post, but was not. I feel I must share this with you now.

I am what you might call a Harry Potter Purist. The ultimate solution to this whole book vs. movie thing would have been to never make the movies at all, and let the story exist as it was meant to, in beautiful Times New Roman. Or you know, whatever font it is.

But then, where would Warner Bros have scraped up $4.5 billion?

I'll just leave it at that.

HP6

The sixth Harry Potter movie, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, is coming out in 29.5 hours.

Or, you know, something like that.

Let me say this right now – I am NOT a Harry Potter franchise fanatic. I am a Harry Potter book fanatic. The difference?

I cried standing in line waiting for the 7^th book.

I left for a few minutes halfway through the first movie because I had to pee.
There was no peeing while reading a new Harry Potter book.

This is not to say that I don’t really like these movies. I love the whole story in general, so sure, I’ll stand in line for a few hours to get a decent seat at a midnight showing. I will not, however:

-watch the movies over and over until I have them memorized (honestly, I’ve only seen each of them 2, maybe 3 times)

-know the names of the actors’ pets and/or significant others

-send Rupert Grint a get-well card because he got the swine flu (he really did, you know. But no card from me!)

There is something else I won’t do when it comes to these movies. I will not say this:

“Ugh! That wasn’t NEARLY as good as the book! How could they have left (insert seemingly important scene) out?”

I have one thing to say to people that say things like this: Are you insane?

Of COURSE the movie wasn’t as good as the book. OF COURSE they couldn’t include all the nuances and details of the written word. No movie based on a book has ever been able to do that. If you ask me, that's what made the Lord of the Rings movies so good.

But I digress.

Seriously - can you really expect movie makers to be able to cram everything - every thing - into a 2 hour movie? Or even into a 3 hour movie? It can't be done. It. Cannot. Be. Done.

And you know what else? That doesn't necessarily mean the movie is doomed to failure. Movies and books are two very different things. A book might need a whole paragraph to explain what a character is thinking, whereas an actor has to portray that thought or emotion in a single camera shot. A movie director might have only a few scenes to develop a subplot that the author devoted chapters to. Something might happen in the book that could be done in a more visually appealing way on the screen, so they change it. An author's job is to describe. A movie maker's job is to show.

You get what I mean? There's no way they're going to be the same. In fact, if someone made a based-on-a-book movie in which they included every little detail from the book, the movie would most likely be criticized as lengthy and drawn-out, with a whole bunch of wasted camera time.

And as much as I love the Harry Potter books, I do not want to watch fairly to moderately crappy kid actors try to do the story justice for hours on end. The adult actors are brilliant (hello, Alan Rickman!), but please - the kid actors are not. They're getting better as the movies go on, to be sure, but they are not great. Not great.

Anyway, I will never judge how good a movie is based on how closely it stuck to its book. This I solemnly swear.

I am really very excited for this movie! The previews look spectacular. I'm a little curious as to how action packed it's going to be. I mean, the end is going to be killer, to be sure, but before that...it's not exactly the most plot-driven of all the books. Hopefully they can keep it moving along.

I love Harry Potter.

Do you? You should. Then we can be nerds together.

"And now, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

Small-ish updates

Well, well, well - fancy seeing you here. It has been a while, hasn't it? I mean, it's really only been a couple weeks, but any time at all is too much, wouldn't you say?

Much has happened since last we met. Let's go over that real quick:

A house is not a home...

until you've bought it. We're currently working on this. It's getting a little difficult, since everyone else seems to have figured out that it's a pretty darn good time to buy - including those pesky investor people who have money and can pay cash for houses, thus defeating all us loan-getters. But hey - we did get pre-approved for the loan and everything, which is positive news. And we've got some good help on our side. And we've spent some fun, HOT days walking through lots of houses! And...you didn't get this from me...but it is very possible that we have actually bought a house! They've accepted our offer and everything. We're just waiting to make sure everything goes through correctly. Keep your fingers crossed!

Oh say, can you see...

(*note: You have to sing this part. You have to. End note*)

Oh say, can you see,
By the bright Utah sun
All those people in Richfield,
The parade marching by?
The weather is nice
And when the parade's done
They'll all eat with their families-
Hot dogs and apple pie.
And later that night
Everyone will get a fright
When Dallin and his brother
Have a firework fight.
Oh say, can you think of a
Better place worth stopping by
Than lovely Richfield, Utah
On the 4th of July?!

That was fun.

Anyway, we went to Richfield again for the 4th. Good times, good weather, good company. I love getting to see our Harris family! I also love that the Richfield Wal-Mart sells caffeine-free Dr. Pepper. We may or may not have bought a couple cases.

Pictures of this trip are scarce. Man, I hope you people have good imaginations.

New Addition

The Harris household as you know it is plus one as of last week! Meet Dayton Harris!


Who did you think I was talking about?

This is Dallin's brother. He just graduated from high school in Washington and is now living with us before he leaves on his mission in about a year. We'll only actually be living with him for a month or so - just until we get into our new house. He'll stay at the condo and keep an eye on things here for us.

New Addition #2

This one is still to come, obviously. He and I are both getting bigger every day. I finally found my cord to connect my camera to my computer, so I can show you that belly picture we took a couple weeks ago:


but I think this one might be a little outdated already. Maybe in a few more weeks you'll get to see what I look like today.

Baby has eased off my sciatic nerve, thank goodness. My back still hurts, but it's kind of more of a general pain that I was expecting to have anyway. Just kind of stiff and tired feeling. Kind of like the rest of me.

And also, just so you don't walk away thinking we are enitrely normal people with entirely normal lives...


MOOOO.

We dressed up like cows last night.
Because it was Cow Appreciation Day.
And Chick-Fil-A gave free food to everyone cool enough to show their appreciation for cows by dressing up like one.

We may have looked like idiots.
But we were cheap idiots.

Well, that's probably about all the excitement you can handle right now, am I right?

Until next time, go hug a cow.