Maternity photo fails

I was going to go all cutesy and call it a photo phail, but that just looked so very wrong...

Anyway, if you read Bee's last post, you'll see how very much she has been wanting me to take maternity photos. I'm not sure if it's because she doesn't want me to look back and feel that I've missed capturing the precious memories of waddling, lack of oxygen, and 9 months of vomitting or if she wanted to feel included in the pregnancy even though her undisclosed location is thousands of miles away. Or she's just a creeper. Either way, I started to consider maybe trying for some maternity snapshots. And then, my friend Marina said she wanted to see my belly's current state and if I didn't post some pictures, she was going to come over to my house to look at me. Which wasn't at all disturbing or awkward. But it did get the film rolling.

33 weeks (maybe? I don't remember) Maybe if Aquaman had a model who could keep her opinions/instructions/harping to herself, these photo shoots would happen more often. ( I think I was giving really important instructions, though. Something along the lines of, "My boots are super cute. Are you zooming out to get my boots in the picture?")

 

 

That look of utter exhaustion complements the outfit nicely, doesn't it? This was taken after 4+ hours at the social security card office where we learned Matilda can't get a social security number and may not be able to get citizenship. But, whatever, I had dressed up to leave the house and we were documenting the outfit as well as the bump.

 

 

35 weeks? At any rate, well past the point where horizontal stripes are a good idea.

 

 

37 weeks. (This is the only one I'm sure of since it was taken tonight and I remember taking it). I don't know what Aquaman has against getting my cute boots in the picture. Enjoy admiring how the black t-shirt that fit 2 weeks ago is on it's last elastic leg.

 

And this last one is because I'm nothing if not vain. I want you to admire my hair. Aquaman's sister gave me the most amazing hair product ever and I'm pretty sure my natural frizz  curls will forever be supermodel worthy. See every picture on this blog prior to this one for proof of the before and after miracle. (Bee, are your curls listening to my shameless advertising?)

 

 

Aaand...that concludes a whirlwind tour of my belly's last month. For actual good maternity outfits/pics, go see my favorite blogger, Grace. And for laughs that will maybe make you snort and scare any young children near you, go see Ashley (who Grace got me hooked on. It's a small, small internet world for me.)

 

 

--Kae--

 

 

How I spent my summer vacation, by Kae

So, maybe Bee was aiming a bit high last month when she referred to our mediocre return to blogging. But, I'll go along with it and continue our delusions of grandeur by announcing our triumphant return to the blog...at least for the rest of the week. Then Bee will set off for another undisclosed location to do more undisclosed training that I think involves raising a pet, then eating it. So you're in my capable hands until she's released from her POW camp.

Rather than blogging for the past several months, I was doing other things. Kind of important things, like gestating new life. Which is a scientific term for lying on the couch, clutching my bottle of Zofran and trying not to vomit. Which mostly worked. With the Zofran I only threw up a couple times a week, instead of five times daily. (That pregnancy glow is actually the cold sweat that comes with a vom-fest).

30 weeks (maybe a little late on the announcement?)

But with my queasiness safely behind me for the last four weeks (as long as I stick with my BFF Zofran), and the ability to sit upright without the room spinning, and the bedrest/preterm labor fun in the rearview mirror, it's time to move on to more important matters. Like how to congratulate me and Aquaman on our upcoming bundle o' sleepless in a non-offensive, politically correct way.

In case you haven't noticed, our five children have less issues with sunburn than Aquaman and I do.

Contrary to the highly-educated WalMart cashier who thought she had it figured out, it's not actually a recessive gene from me and Aquaman that made them that color. The darker skin comes from their birth families in Ethiopia. And thus begins the need for education about appropriate things to say to an adoptive family that's now expecting a child via the biological route.

Not OK. Not ever:

1. So will this be your first real child?  (Umm....pretty sure they're all real)
2. So this will be your first kid of your own? (See number 1, above)
3. I know lots of families who adopt and then get pregnant! (This one comes down to the tone of voice. It usually implies that it was nice of us to adopt and pass the time until we could "really" start our family. This time with one of those "real" children who's "our own")
4. Were you surprised you could get pregnant? (Mostly inappropriate because you're the cashier at the thrift store and not my sister or best friend. Let's just say I don't question your obstetrical history: "So when you got pregnant were you using contraceptives?" Feels a little invasive, doesn't it?)

Appropriate and appreciated:

1. Congratulations! That's so exciting.
2. Congratulations! I'll be the kids are excited for a new brother or sister!
3. Congratulations!

And for the record, the kids are excited for a new brother or sister. They're just a little confused on the color of this one. Lanky was quite disheartened to hear after a little genetics lesson that this baby wouldn't be brown. After some serious thought, he asked, "But miracles can happen, right?"

Yep. Miracles can definitely happen.

 

 

--Kae--