Is five minutes too much to ask?

It smells like a birthday in here. To me, any time candles are blown out, it smells like someone just finished singing "Happy Birthday." Because right now, it's nobody's birthday around here. At least, not quite yet.

No; it smells like a birthday because that's just what the doctor ordered: a bath by candlelight, a book on the side, and zero technology within reach. This is the prescription whenever I'm irrationally emotional, as I was tonight.

It was a good day. Well, mostly, the day was good. I have been sleeping okay - not great, but not horrible, either. We attended a newborn care class in Fresno this morning (only one moment of offense and annoyance at the teacher); it was okay, some good info, a little preachy, and just that one awkward offensive question, but whatever.

Then was lunch at PF Chang's (to expose baby to some Asian spices), Woodward Park (for a few maternity pictures before we got rained out), Barnes and Noble (to use a gift card from years ago that I'd recently found), Home Goods (where I kicked a puddle, which soaked my shoes and the bottom three inches of my jeans), Sam's Club, and Sprouts.

My back was miserable during the class, and it only got worse the rest of the afternoon. After I kicked the puddle, my shoes and pants felt so uncomfortable that I was just about ready to give up and go home. Because I'm difficult, I insisted on toughing it out. Have I mentioned that baby has dropped (not all the way by any means, but enough to force me to waddle)? That only made everything worse. By the time we got to Sam's, I just wanted to sit. I sat here and there, but always for 30 seconds or less (I've already admitted to being difficult, thank you). Even I have to admit: I shouldn't have walked all through Sprouts. But I did.

And then we started on our way home, which involves driving. On roads. With other drivers. In the rain. And the other drivers don't know what to do in the rain. So they just drive like jerks. Already, I don't enjoy cars or traffic - add rain and inconsiderate drivers? Just kill me now, you know?

Finally, we got home and started discussing what we wanted to do tonight. Movie? TV? Game? Tim said he would play a video game if I just wanted to do my own thing. And then he asked: so, what would you like to do? I let the question hang there for a minute, just as he had when I asked what type of movie sounded good (or was he not paying attention? or did he just not hear me? I'll never know, and it doesn't matter at all).

Then, I felt it coming on. A moment. I started to cry. (I know what you're asking: "Seriously? Over what? Why? Is she some special brand of crazy?" Because that's exactly what I wondered myself at that moment.) I had to pick myself up off of the chair (not an easy task, remember) and haul myself into the bedroom to really start letting the years flow, because I didn't want to freak Tim out.

True to form, the dogs followed me immediately, and Tim was only about five or ten seconds behind them. He found an ugly pregnant crying woman in the master bathroom.

"Okay, I get that it's hormones, but what's wrong? Did I do or say something?"

I started laughing. (If he had any sense, he would've gone running for the hills at that point. Crying. Hormonal. And then laughing. Not good.) I told him the only thing I can think that I really want to do is be comfortable for FIVE FREAKING MINUTES!! Just five minutes - is that too much to ask? Sheesh!

He had to smile (kind of a pathetic, I-always-knew-you-were-crazy kind of smile), then he hugged me. It was my second nutty-as-a-fruitcake pregnancy meltdown (the first was in a hotel room in NYC, and the reason I melted then was because my wardrobe want stylish enough). I think he was just relieved it wasn't anything he'd done; still, he asked what to do to help me: take a bath? relaxing beverage? ice cream? a one-day gym membership to relax/float in the pool? anything? I finally conceded to the bath (obviously), but I really hope this kind of crazy meltdown doesn't happen again. After all, this Sunday marks 37 weeks down, which leaves just three weeks to go, hopefully at the most, because if I feel this miserably uncomfortable at 37 weeks, there's NO WAY I'm letting this get out of control and going to more than 40 weeks.

Oh, no. We're NOT doing that. We're NOT going there. 40 weeks is when she's DUE, and I always stick to my deadlines - isn't a due date just another deadline?

Your daughter's name is 'Beefeater'?

Do you ever have those moments of clarity when you think, "I just LOVE the heck out of that guy"? Moments when you know it's the little things that matter, not the material stuff, but the sweet inside joke moments. Moments when you know you're truly MFEO? That was today, at Costco.

We wandered through the small front section together, spotted a rug display, and decided independently that we both would pick THAT one, and kinda didn't like any of the others. It was indoor/outdoor, but we didn't have a place for it inside, and if we put it outside, Spot would just pee on it. So... didn't need it, didn't get it.

He found a couple of button-up shirts he liked, but again, didn't need it, didn't get it. Maybe next time, because recently we've got other things to buy for someone else (hi, baby - due exactly 30 days from today!).

At that point, we separated, as we always do, him to the electronics, and me to the clothes, books, and movies. I have been looking for books to keep my interest, but recently, nothing really takes hold (any non-fiction suggestions would be welcome). I found no clothes that caught my attention. No books. And no movies. And then, all of a sudden, I was so alone. A quick text ("Panic attack. Where did you go? Need you!"), and there he was. Weird - usually I can't find him that quickly. He asked if I was okay, if we should just leave, and I said no, I was fine, as long as we stuck together for the rest of the time. It was a deal.

We continued to wander, this time to the alcohol, where we found bottles of wine and hard liquor. I spotted Hennessy, and made a comment about how it's not too late to change baby's name to that (a reference to my love of odd/unusual names I've found in my working career). He saw a bottle of Beefeater, and said the same thing - we could change the name to that. "Might be a CPS case at some point, he said. 'Your daughter's name is Beefeater?'"

Then it was on to the fruits and veggies. We got a pineapple, some melon, berries, and he left me by the bananas while he shopped the refrigerated section (fine by me - I didn't want to go in there today). As if all that had happened before wasn't enough to remind me how much I'm head over heels for this guy of mine, then this happened.

You see, we play this game in Costco. Whoever sees someone they know FIRST, that person wins. He ALWAYS wins. It was 12:00 on a Friday (the time that most people that work with him get out of work, which is literally less than a mile down the street). Duh - he was going to win.

So I'm there, trying to pick out the greenest bunch of bananas. I checked the first two boxes in front of me - nothing acceptable. Then this strange woman came up to my left and said, "excuse me... excuuuuse me!" I turned, ready to give her a look and tell her there was plenty of room (I have a general distaste for most people who shop at the Costco near us), but instead, I saw this sweet lady from where I used to work. My first response to her? "I win!"

We chatted for a few minutes while Tim found his way back to me and the bananas. When he came out of the refrigerated section and saw me talking to this woman, his immediate reaction was, "You win!" I introduced them; we chatted for another minute, and then went about our ways. And then she came back to us, just to ask why I won, what did I win? I told her about our game, and how I never win. She smiled, laughed a bit, and moved on.

I just love those moments. I love my guy. Our inside jokes. Our quirks. But mostly, I love him. I hope that we'll continue to have those moments for the rest of forever, no matter what. It really IS the little things that matter. Free things. Priceless moments. I wouldn't trade those things for anything!

Best. Shower. Ever. Not just BABY shower. Best SHOWER ever.

So, yesterday was the big baby shower. The one with all the friends and family. I have to admit: I was nervous. I couldn't stop thinking about all of the things that COULD go wrong. People saying things. Thinking things. Doing things. Nobody would show up. Not getting there on time. Not enough food. Gross food. Me, being stupid. Awkward moments. I was kinda miserable.

But - wonder of wonders - NOTHING went wrong. Seriously. Actually, everything went perfectly. And I mean that. My mental stress was all for naught! Thanks to the person who organized and planned and did EVERYTHING for us. She's just awesome and amazing, and we love her dearly. Now to convince her to watch baby for us once in a while (I don't think she'll take much convincing)!

Sure, some things were said, but they didn't bug me. Nobody heard them. Nobody cared. If they were shouted from rooftops, maybe then we'd have a problem, but they weren't, so we don't. 

People showed up. Early! On time! At the right place! The place was easy to find (fortunately I wasn't driving, because I wasn't wearing glasses and didn't see the sign until we were literally walking in, and I'm not even kidding)! People that I figured wouldn't show up actually did, but a couple of people that said they'd be there, weren't. "It'll all even out in the end," right Xander?

The food was really great! I had never eaten at this place before - The Lunch Box in downtown Visalia - but it was awesome. Tim and I chose the sandwiches and wraps, which were awesome, but the thing that really stole the show: the brownies. Oh, yum. Anyone who was there that DIDN'T try the brownies, I pity you. You should've tried those. I need the recipe for those, like, yesterday.

I think the part I was most nervous about was opening gifts. I thought it would be redundant ("and repetitive"), but I don't think it was. There was such a wide variety of things, that no specific words or phrases got overused. There were some silent moments when wrapping simply could not be undone, and I (jokingly) attempted to bite the packaging. Fortunately, it wasn't awkward - it was just me, being me. Which I think (or maybe I guess I hope) people understood.

At the end of the gift part, Tim gave this amazing "thank you" speech to everyone that came to the shower, and especially to the person who made it all happen. And after his maybe five-minute spiel, he looked over to me, as if to say, "anything to add"? What the heck am I supposed to add now that he just said it all and more? Apparently I indicated that I had nothing to add, but I did it totally me-fashion. Silly, but not awkward. At least, so I'm told. People laughed, but not AT me. At least, so I'm told.

So now, all of the baby stuff is being washed and made ready for baby's grand arrival. Which, I suppose, is the final step in this whole process: giving birth. I'm NOT looking forward to it, but there's no other way to get her out, is there. I guess, here we go. The last step.

34 weeks, and I'm doing kinda great!

Today marks 34 weeks down, which leaves just six to go. Or, according to my countdown app, 42 days until baby's due date (assuming that she comes on her due date, which I'm assuming she won't).

I feel very pregnant. My feet and/or ankles occasionally swell; I feel uncomfortable almost all the time; I'm tired, but unable to sleep for long periods at a time. And this is baby #1, so I'm starting to get more and more nervous about labor and delivery. (I assume these things are all very normal. Correct me if I'm wrong.)

I plan to work until my doctor order me to stop working, or until I have baby, which (despite what everyone says) I think - and HOPE - that she'll come just a little early.

My big baby shower is a week away, and I'm both nervous and excited. I guess maybe I'm a control freak, but I just like knowing what to expect (if that makes me a control freak, then so be it) - in this situation, I know that's impossible. More than 30 people said they would be at this shower, and while most of them don't worry me, there are a handful of big question marks.

I'm trying so hard to relax, to go with the flow. To remind myself that people will do what they're going to do, regardless of whether I approve. I'm trying to be less of a control freak. I know: it'll be fine. "Everything will even out in the end," as my little brother once screamed in frustration at me (and I'd kill to hear him remind me again and again these days).

I also wonder what I should wear to the shower. A dress? A nice top with a skirt/jeans? I don't know. I'm leaning towards a nice top with nice (long) pants, because my legs are too unpredictably swollen these days - a fact I don't really wish to have documented in tagged pictures on Facebook.

Baby has jags of kicking and moving, and although there are certain moments and locations that I wish she wouldn't kick, I really have learned to appreciate them. I love knowing that she's happy and healthy in there. I've had a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions (most of which I've learned to ignore, but others, depending on location and intensity, really take my breath away). But overall, I'm doing okay - actually, I think I'm doing kinda great. I wish I could be one of those crazy women that ran all the way through her pregnancy, but I'm just not. Plain as that.

I've given myself permission to do nothing for at least the first two weeks after baby is born. I told this to a friend who has a six-month-old, and she said that it'll be the busiest "nothing" I've ever done, abd I understand that. I'm actually looking forward to late-night feedings and messy diapers and all of that, because at least she'll be here. Well finally be able to see what she looks like (hopefully not an alien patio baby)! After those first weeks, though, I want to train and do another 5K or 10K. I already have so many Couch to 5K plans pinned and ready to go! I'm excited!