It's FRIDAY! Also, it is Find Myself an Appropriate Swimsuit Day. All mine have just reached their end. They are too tight, too skimpy, too small. Not working. It may sound appealing to some that I'm running around with little to nothing on at the beach on base, ya know, given my natural good looks, but trust me, it's inappropriate. Derick would disown me. (For the record: I'm not running around in skimpy swimsuits on base, but if I want to go to the beach soon, I better find a new one because my body is outgrowing my fabric.) I definitely want a cute tankini. I will probably later buy a nice bikini and try to emulate my friend, Beth, who looked fabulous even at 9 months pregnant. But for now, I need to cover this thing, mostly for the swim class I'm planning to start attending once the spitting stops. That class is partially women/partially Marines, so I don't want to walk up in there in a tiny bikini with a giant belly. Whaddup, Devil Dogs??
Speaking of spit, yesterday I went with a friend to a luncheon to hear the Commandant's wife, Mrs. Bonnie Amos, speak. She was incredible, and the lunch was very nice. I had been praying for a couple of weeks that the spitting would subside by the time the luncheon rolled around so that I wouldn't look like white trash spitting into my Gatorade bottle. Well, guess what? I didn't spit one time during the entire luncheon! I was so proud of myself. Sure, after dessert and once everyone started leaving, the spit came back, but I did really well during the duration of the event, and I am thankful. One step at a time.
I'm still counting down the days until next Monday. I pretty much wished this week away, which was selfish, but it is so exciting that we will soon know who I'm carrying around, kinda. I shot a text to Derick this morning at around 4:30. He left way before that because the entire Headquarters Battalion went on a three-mile run. That would have been a cool thing to see if I were more of a morning girl. They apparently shut down the traffic circle on base. Anyway, in my text, I asked Derick if he liked the boy name, "Whittaker." He could go by "Whit." Derick replied about three hours later with a simple, "no." I thought it was cute. You can have that name if you want it. You're welcome.
For the past three days, I've felt the baby move around. Once I was certain it wasn't gas, I was able to identify the feeling. It is weird, and I would liken it to the feeling you get when you go over a hill really quickly in your car and your stomach kinda floats. Except it lasts for a few moments and it moves around. If you are educated in the feeling-the-baby-move, and my description sounds like something completely different, please let me know! Haha. But I'm pretty sure it is the baby. I've never felt anything like it.
Well, I hope everyone has a terrific and safe weekend. I'm having Chic-fil-A breakfast with another mommy-to-be in the morning, then Derick is taking me to the farmer's market, then we are going to a Brazilian steakhouse with the Snows. My life obviously revolves around food...which is much better than when it revolved around the toilet. Literally.
No comments:
Post a Comment