What is this?

This is a very long, open and public letter to Baby Bean McGyver, the little boy curently residing in my belly, to be evicted in December, likely during Christmas dinner.

I promise to back everything up in print to read to him during the sleepless nights. Oh, and in case you are wondering, the title did come from a horribly catchy Gwen Stefani song that is always stuck in my jukebox brain.

I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing. Thanks for stopping by!

Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Week 34 - Cantaloupe Baby

Hey baby!

For the record, when we were at the produce shop on Sunday, I held up a cantaloupe and you feel a lot bigger. And oh the moves you make, my little John Travolta. Sometimes my belly stretches to the side or to the front and I have a distinct feeling you're trying to grab whatever it is I'm eating holding. We call you Alien-Baby, because the resemblance is totally there.
During the few moments when you're not moving, stretching, rolling, squiggling, squirming, doing backflips or diving into the deep end of my poor body, my belly is actually cute, very round but not too big. Enough to leave me breathless, because you're taking up all that precious lung space. Bending forward is out of the question and usually met with a grunt,  but in a last heroic glimpse of vanity, I managed to paint my toenails today. Next week, haircut!

I confess having a "turtle" moment today, when I was lying flat on the couch and suddenly could not get up the normal way of rolling upwards, so I just lay there, waving my arms and legs, like a panicked upside down turtle. Not pretty, but funny. The whole reason why we didn't go camping with friends last weekend. I can't be trusted on low surfaces anymore, I may never be able to get up again.

Not a lot happening on the outside world, to be honest. We finally got that shelf in the nursery. The shopping check-list is done, tiny little clothes are washed, hospital bags are perfectly packed, Christmas is fast approaching and my mind is trying to figure out if I should prepare for it, ignore it or assume you'll be here by then. Or if I'll be in labor while the rest of NZ eats turkey. This thing were we don't know the exact date of your arrival drives me crazy.

Crazy, because planning is my thing and if I can't plan and organize, the world as we know it may collapse in a state of chaos. But crazy is better than anxious, I guess.

I'm not anxious yet. I'm enjoying this pregnancy very much and will carry many good memories from it. No need to hurry, baby, unless your original plan is to be a New Year's Eve baby. If you're thinking about the drama effect, just drop it right now young man! Hurry all you want. We are, at least on the outside, ready for you. But please, I really need that haircut, so hang in there for a little while longer. Oh, and we have antenatal/parenting/birthing classes this weekend, so maybe wait untill we actually know how to change a nappy? Thanks.

34 weeks, only 6 to go. How can this be, if only yesterday I was holding that stick with a faint second line?

This is last week's bump picture, not that great, but we keep forgetting to take them! Can't wait for Tatiana to take some really good ones!

What I'm reading: blogs I keep losing track of, news articles that make me angry, "The book thief" made me cry, Twitter makes me laugh. Just read this and want to share:

Things I wish I'd known before


  1. Love your blogs Maria. I didnt have this opportunity when i was pregnant with Nick and Aidey and it is truely beautiful that you are able to show your wee bub how much they are loved from the very beginning. My children, even though they are adults are still my babies and i just want to wrap my arms around them and protect them. You have a lifetime of a heart overflowing ahead. Xx Donna

  2. do you really think a bright boy like my grandson would even consider being born before our arrival? he knows better.