ramblings of a pregnant woman

Lots of random things on my mind tonight - and most of them are either food or baby related. Sorry, that's just the way it is these days.

* We've made major progress with Baby B's nursery. We ordered the glider (thanks Mom & Dad!), purchased the armoire, and ordered her bedding. I can be very indecisive so deciding on these things was big for me. I'm glad to have them checked off the to-do list.

* The gallon of milk I had in the fridge went bad two days early. I discovered this after I shoveled a giant bite of cereal in my mouth this morning.  No bueno. To make it up to my mouth, I went to Starbucks for breakfast instead. I love the banana loaf - and just about everything else in the pastry case.

* Today, the receptionist at my office asked me if I was pregnant. For reals lady? I'm the size of a house. I had to get a bathroom Blackberry picture just to give you guys a frame of reference for how ridiculous a question this was.

Bless her heart. 

* Embarrassing admission: I cried during Survivor last night. (We're catching up on a lot of recorded TV.)  In my defense, it was a very sweet moment and I am 6 and half months pregnant. I realize my hormones are to blame but I'm still pretty embarrassed. Crying at Survivor is pretty high on the lame scale.

* I wish my couch had cup holders. Okay, not really because that would be ugly but it would be convenient.

* A frozen yogurt store opened up next door to my favorite taco place. Danger Will Robinson!

* Anyone read Jen Lancaster's new book Wish You Were Here? I just got it and am thinking about putting aside Rob Lowe's book to start it. So far, Rob's memoirs are not quite as compelling as his abs. (Have you seen the Vanity Fair cover? Wowza!)

* I made Fruity Pebbles treats on Sunday. Somehow, nearly half the pan has disappeared yet I've only had three. (only three - ha!) Can't imagine what happened to them since B claims he doesn't like sweets. Maybe we have a mouse...

* I'm living in a constant state of fear that my hands will swell and my rings will get stuck on my fat fingers. I've heard too many stories about women having to get their rings cut off their fingers and really don't want that to happen. I also don't want to ditch my rings unnecessarily. So, constant state of fear it is.

That's probably more than enough pregnant lady chatter. I'll see if I can think of something other than food and babies to write about next time - but no promises.