On the weekend, Evan and I got to take the evening and go on a splendid date together. It will, more than likely, be our last before Bambino #2 arrives, so I soaked it up to the fullest.
We did it up romantic style by going to the States and hitting up Lowe’s for paint for the new house and Target for nursing bras, newborn diapers and maxi pads. We also came home with a stack of paint chips a mile high. The definition of “date” sure has changed.
Evan was trying to hurry me along in Target (world’s worst mistake a husband can make) so I sent him and my pharmacy item list off to gather things while I tried on nursing bras and camisoles. I was just trying to do him a favour by killing two birds with one stone. Of course, when I tracked him down after I was finished in the fitting room, I was told that “Target didn’t have anything that was on my list and the only things he managed to find were a case of beer and four cases of pop. Besides, do you know how many types of pads there are?” Men.
At least we finished the night off by enjoying a delicious dinner on the patio at The Cheesecake Factory. Spending nearly two hours, uninterrupted, on a gorgeous night on the patio? Perfection.
The nicest part about the date was that Evalyn was at a sleepover at her Auntie’s (for the very first time) so we had absolutely no time pressure. It was really nice. Just to be. Us. For a few hours, no diapers, no singing Happy And You Know It, no sippy cups and no snack traps. Just me and my husband. Bliss.
Another important thing happened this weekend – I realized that I’ve reached ‘that point’ in pregnancy. You know? The point where complete strangers look at you in public and their face reads “Oh. Oh, dear. You poor thing”. Clearly, I’m waddling.
It started on Friday night when I visited a fresh new snuggly at the L&D department in our local hospital. Pretty sure at least four nurses and one hundred other people in that hallway were looking at me like, “Hm, are you here or are you just here?”
Then at the mall, I watched a security guard keep his eyes close on me as I
waddled walked past him looking for my husband. I’m not sure if he thought he was going to have to catch my baby or what.
But, honestly. Maybe it’s just my heightened self-consciousness. Probably not.
I’ve already reached the point in pregnancy where clothes? Yea. They just don’t really work so well anymore. The tops I wore right until 40w5d with Evalyn barely stretch over my belly anymore. So, coming up with a decent outfit to go out in public in can be a challenge. Thankfully, my husband is helpful. And honest. Some women may not like the level of honesty I get from my husband, but me personally? I’d rather him tell me if something makes me look like a whale than let me go out in public and pretend I look fabulous.
So when I got dressed on Saturday night for our date and came out of the room to get his opinion, I was appreciative of the fact that he told me the outfit didn’t really work so well on the current configuration of my body. What I was not appreciative of, however? The fact that I wore the exact same outfit one week ago without him seeing it. Fail.
Yesterday we celebrated the upcoming arrival of one of my BFF’s first babies at a lovely baby shower. We managed to wrangle together the four of us besties and our off spring for a photo op. Notice a trend?
And, no, the one second from left is not already lactating. It’s just baby drool. I can’t tell you how I’m excited that we’re all sharing this journey together. William is currently 5.5 months and with the other 3 on the way, we’ll all welcome our little ones within 9 months of each other. Awesome, right?
We’re hoping for 4 boys so we can start putting together an awesome hockey team.