The days keep bouncing back and forth between being sunny spring and rainy spring days.  On the sunny days, I'm usually so excited about the sunshine, I ended up taking the dogs out for exercise twice and then they're passed out cold.  On the rainy days, we all curl up on the couch and nap, and then when they're awake, they're a little restless.  Unfortunately I now nap longer than the dogs, and when sticking their cold, wet noses in my face doesn't get me up, they go scavenging around the house for cool new things.

Most of the cool new things in the house are baby things.  Stuffed baby things.  Often with crinkles or bells or squeakers.  And a lot of them smell like baby or other people's homes.  For the last 3 days, Ronan has been strategically tearing down my haphazard barricades, nosing into different bags of toys, pulling toys out, and then prancing around the house with his new prize.  It'd be more adorable if he didn't just as strategically pull all the stuffing out.  Stinker. 

Teagan is also interested in the toys, but not interested enough to contend with the booby traps I've set up trying to keep Ronan away from the toys.  She usually waits until he pulls them out and then chases him around hoping to get a chew or a sniff in before I catch them.  She's a little craftier than Ronan.

Of course this situation would be resolved if I actually kept an eye on the dogs, but that's hard to do when I'm napping. 

Love,  Trina

Early on in pregnancy I began to realize that baby was eating my brain as my ability to concentrate significantly diminished, which thus resulted in sometimes comical, often annoying mistakes in many details.  I also can't remember anything for more than about 10 seconds.

Further proof that my brain is atrophying is my recent replacing words in a sentence with words that rhyme or switching rhyming words with each other.  For instance, I recently said I was going to go out and get my water from the bar (rather than the car), and, the other night at focus I declared how I was so excited to be working on the last night of the light (instead of light of the night). 

I do this all day long.  Delightful.

Time for bed.
Love,
Trina

Yesterday, while leaving the house with John and both dogs, I decided it was time to take out the stack of broken-down boxes to the recycling bin.  Since I insisted on taking the boxes, John took charge of Teagan and Ronan, and then I inadvertently put on a Keatonesque show trying to pick up all the boxes and the 2 stupid telephone books and exit the house.  I kept dropping boxes while trying to pick up the pile, and then I would drop another box while trying to pick up the boxes I dropped, then the telephone books would slip out from underneath my arm, and I would drop another box trying to pick up the telephone book.  Then I finally got all the boxes and telephone books situated and couldn't fit through the door.  Then I bursted out laughing, which caused me to drop just about everything all over gain.  Oh, silliness!

I'm going to blame the situation on being a clumsy pregnant lady, but to be perfectly honest, this incident would not be my first battle with boxes.

Love,
Trina

I get a weekly newsletter from babycenter.com that tells all kinds of different things about the baby's development based on what week of pregnancy.  It usually starts off comparing the baby to a piece of produce.  The comparisons have been comical.  They make confusing switches between the length of the baby and the weight of the baby, and then you look at the fruit or vegetable and try and imagine the baby being shaped like that, and then comparison becomes even funnier.  And on top of all that, occasionally some pretty obscure produce is selected.  John and I have made a Sunday evening game of guessing which vegetable the baby is. 

This week:  a head of cauliflower.  It's the first vegetable or fruit that has made sense in a few weeks.  Last week, it was English Hothouse Cucumber.  Huh?

If you'd like to share in the laughs, you can check out the slide show here: poppy to pumpkin slide show.  The quarter really helps, no?

Love,
Trina