25 weeks

If I look like I swallowed a small watermelon it's partially because I'm five months pregnant, but it's also because I've been swallowing small watermelons. Every time we go grocery shopping I buy a watermelon and spend a week or so eating my way through it. Love me some watermelon.

But I know you didn't come all this way to look at fruit - you want to see some five-month pictures, so here I am at 25 weeks:

If you know me at all you know that I'm a nail-biter, but look at these puppies! They're growing so fast I was having to chew them off every day, which was just too much work, so for now I'm putting up with them.

And for good measure, here's a shot of my 25-week belly:

Sorry it's sideways, but you get the idea.

On the name front, no we haven't picked a name yet. We're still trying to choose between Edith and Olive, but at this point there's no clear winner. We like both names so we're not fussed about making a decision anytime soon. We may just have to see what this baby looks like when she comes out.

Lastly, I've finally gotten my hands on some of Sam's baby pictures, so be prepared for what's to come.

Gray baby blobs

Well, after an extremely long ultrasound the results are in, and we've been told we're most likely having a girl. The baby kept turning flips and putting itself in weird positions, and the tech had to measure every part of the baby, so the whole thing took about an hour and a half, which I was not expecting. Frankly you can only watch a screen of swirling gray blobs for so long before you start seeing things. It's like watching a moving Rorschach test, or a weird silent film produced by Sergei Eisenstein, Salvador Dali, and Tim Burton. There were crocodiles that morphed into spiny octopuses that changed into ghoulish Halloween masks with beards made out of teeth.

The whole thing was surreal, and yet it got pretty boring pretty fast. I was tired, Sam's on Vicodin while he's waiting to have a root canal, so he was tired, and we both just wanted to get home and take a nap. Luckily my doctor's appointment afterward was super-quick, so we high-tailed it out of there, got some food, ran a quick errand, and went home to crash, which takes us up to the present.

Myopia and Crooked Teeth

I am curious to know what our baby will look like, but not in a giddy, expectant sort of way. No, if anything it's a dollop of dread combined with a "why can't I look away from this train wreck" sort of feel, because I know in my heart of hearts that Sam and I are not good-looking people (see below). I figure even if our kid manages to get the best each of us has to offer gene-wise, they will undoubtedly have some serious vision and dental problems.

So, as a taste of what's to come I thought I'd prepare you with some of my baby pictures. Brace yourselves.

Exhibit A:

Here I am at 1 month old. I am squishy and pink, which is to be expected, but I am also enormous (I came out 12 days late weighing 10 pounds), and, if my squinty eyes and clawed fist are any indication, my nature is extremely mistrustful.

Exhibit B:

This is me at six months. Pale, indistinct features. The relaxed slouch of a Colombian drug lord. Glasses, a protruding forehead, and a really top-notch blue leisure suit. Not much has changed, except I tragically outgrew that suit and have since grown some hair. Speaking of which...

Exhibit C:

Sweet jeepers will you look at that hairline. I thought surely some hair would disguise that forehead, but I hadn't counted on it only growing on the back of my head. I look like a balding Chucky doll.  I understand now why my mother made me wear not one, but two hats that year for Halloween.

And now, because you managed to look at all that, here is the best baby picture I have of myself:

I'm 8 months old, my Chucky hair hasn't yet come in, I'm wearing a cute little dress, and I'm already eating solidly solid food. (So what if it's clothespins?) This one gives me a smidgen of hope for the future.

14 week photo

For those of you dying for photos, here's a picture of me at 14 weeks:

If we don't scare you, no evil thing will

I should probably explain the title of this blog. It comes from 101 Dalmatians, specifically the scene where Cruella comes to buy the puppies, but is disgusted when she sees they have no spots. She goes so far as to call them "horrid little white rats," which, believe it or not, was the blog title I almost went with. Now, what does all of this have to do with anything? Well, a long time ago Sam and I decided that it would be immensely funny, when we had a kid, to go stand at the hospital nursery window, gaze in at our baby, and then cry out, "No spots! No spots at all! What a horrid little white rat, eugh!" just like Cruella.

If you're thinking to yourself that that's not very funny at all, and that we are terrible people, well, this probably isn't the blog for you.