Baby Gender Poll

It's been funny not knowing the sex of the baby. When I talk about the baby, I usually phrase my sentences in a neutral way, but sometimes "he" or "she" slips out and then I get really superstitious. Seems like my friends and family all have their suspicions, too. I'll find out on August 28--in the meantime, let's vote!

Local Beet Farmer Throws In the Towel

I am ready to face some sobering facts: some people are made to grow beets, and some people are not. I, sadly, fall into the latter category. I sowed four rows of beets. FOUR ROWS! Total yield: one good one, three small, struggling ones. Compare: I went to the Farmer's Market yesterday and paid $2 for four big fat beets. Why do I bother? My gardening "skills" (if I may use the term loosely) become more shaky by the day. My bean plant yielded seven beans, which I managed to destroy before I could eat (would rather gloss over the details, thanks). The cucumber plant died. The mixed lettuce patch is scraggly and grumpy looking. My lush-looking zucchini plant has one lone little squash on it. I am holding out hope for my tomatoes, which are looking very promising. Maybe my peppers will pull through, too. In the meantime, I will focus on nurturing these little baby beets.

And...speaking of babies! Hearing my baby's heart beat for the second time was no less thrilling than hearing it for the first time. I went to the doctor on Friday and everything seems to be looking good. The big news in baby land this week (Week 16) is that the baby is starting to make faces, is between 4-5 inches long, and is learning to make a fist. Also, baby had an insatiable demand for vanilla eclairs today, and I had to make to separate trips to The Wedge for the sole purpose of buying them. Yikes. Total pregnant lady behavior.

Minneapolis Household Grows and Grows

We're having a baby!

Our little chicken nugget is just over fifteen weeks old, about four inches long, and, according to the Mayo Clinic's fetal development calendar, is busy growing skin and eyebrows this week. We heard the heartbeat two weeks ago, and it was the most amazing experience ever. I was speechless. The nurse pointed out some noises that she said were the baby kicking. It sounded like there was a little cardio-kickboxing class going on in my belly. Awesome. It's too small for me to feel the kicking yet, but I can't wait. The only other thing we know for sure about baby right now is that he or she has a crazy sweet tooth and demands piles of chocolate and, in particular, chocolate milkshakes almost every day. Pop is doing his best to accommodate these demands.

Needless to say, we're thrilled. I'm so excited about this little babe that I'm not even that upset about the fact that it's a struggle to stay awake past 7 p.m., I feel like I have a perpetual hangover, and I can't seem to poop properly anymore.

Sorry for the lack of updates recently. I've been exhausted from the pregnancy and have been working nearly every day in the past two months, as we've been preparing for trial. And on the one day off that I had, I had the brilliant luck of falling on my head and getting a concussion. Alas, such is the life if the klutzy knocked-up litigator.

So, I've made some observations, and I'm sure the list will grow as my pregnant belly becomes more apparent and more people feel compelled to share their opinions about my pregnancy and my choices.

One: A good 75% of the people I tell about my pregnancy ask "Was this planned?" This question seems less awkward and outrageous when coming from one of my close friends, but why do people think it's okay to inquire about the details of my sex life? And what does it mean, anyway, to "plan"? As many many women can tell you, you can hope and you can try, but you can't exactly plan. I know what these people really want to know is, is this a surprise? To which the answer may or may not be interesting, but how do they not realize how personal and awkward the question is?

Two: "Are you going to find out the sex of the baby?" Followed by EXTREMELY STRONG AND OFTEN CONDEMNING opinions about my decision. This is crap. There are good reasons to find out and there are good reasons not to find out. Just because I want to find out does not mean that I am a "control freak" or whatever else I've been called.

Three: "Do you want a boy or a girl?" I don't care. And newsflash: There is nothing I can do about it anyway.

I don't mean to sound crabby about the obnoxious questions/commentary. I'm not. People just don't realize, and it's surprising. I'm told the fun really begins once my belly gets big and people want to touch it.