I want to go home!

Last night it was acid indigestion and heart burn from the flaming hot Cheetos Ben forced me to eat in hopes that it would help me go into labor. Tonight it's this:

You're not alone if you have no idea what this is. I didn't. But it's a nasty, disgusting tick; the one I found implanted on Gus yesterday. The experience was a traumatic one, one that has kept me tossing and turning all night at the thought of more of those creatures lurking around. Living almost exclusively on the west coast, I have never had to worry about ticks, let alone come in contact with one. So you can imagine my surprise (or utter disgust) when I thought I was pulling something from a plant out of Gus' fur only to find that the plant object had eight moving legs. I literally had to look up what the creature was on Google in order to identify the parasite. Ever since, that's all I can think about. I'm freaked out that every itch on my body is my very own parasite sucking on my blood. I've gone over Gus' fur a dozen times and spent over an hour brushing him to ensure that I had eliminated all ticks or other small animals. Considering my horrific experience, it is no surprise that I have been tossing and turning all night with visions of ticks dancing in my head. It's almost as if they are taunting me, knowing that I have an obsessive-compulsive mind that cannot rest when I'm worried about something; and the ticks have won. It is now 5:15am and I am still awake, destined to be ornery for another day due to lack of sleep.

Still no baby...

After announcing to everyone that last night was "the night", I sadly have to admit that there is still no showing of Baby Mack. I had no reason to think that last night I was going to go into labor, except that I have recently started to feel the discomfort that everyone seems to talk about during pregnancy. I'll admit that I was quite embarrassed yesterday walking to the gym due to a pregnancy "waddle" that has recently shown up in my step. Don't get me wrong, I still sleep like a rock (I've never had a problem with that), but I feel that my several walks a day and trips to the gym should be rewarded with an early labor (at least a few days early). Much to my dismay, my doctor did not fall for my feeble attempts last week to persuade him to induce me earlier than the eighth. I believe that it could be my own fault that this baby wants to stay in my stomach. Maybe I've made it much too comfortable for him in there with all the ice cream and bread that I've been inhaling. So tonight... is "the night" (I hope). I've already decided to make a stop at Pei Wei's for some spicy dan dan noodles, in hopes of forcing this baby out by making him extremely uncomfortable (along with myself).

Here are some recent pictures of our time in Bloomington (I can't say that I've missed Vegas much with all the greenery and beautiful weather here. Except for friends of course:)

Home Sweet Home

Since moving to Minneapolis last Friday and getting settled, I seem to have a lot more time on my hands, so hopefully I'll be way better at frequent posts. I feel like everyone who's pregnant gets to lay around and nap because pregnancy is so exhausting, expect for me. I've been just as crazy as ever. In the past month I've finished up school for good, packed up, gotten somewhat ready for a baby (not really, I'm still not ready), and moved to Minnesota. On top of those things, Ben has started selling preseason for the summer, he finished his semester (with a little help), we sold my beloved car, bought another car (that Ben crashed that same night and it is now in the the shop), and I still managed to gain another five pounds to add to my baby weight (does it ever stop!).

Ben and Gus getting ready to go.








Minneapolis has been decent so far. Ben's selling well as always, the weather is great and the scenery is beautiful. Our apartment would be great if we could get rid of the awful stench coming from our kitchen sink (I have tried everything and Ben has threatened the management within an inch of this lives. The best is that Ben loves to tell people that I'm nine months pregnant in order to try to get things done faster. He tells the people at the airport, the management of the apartment, the cleaning people...I'm not sure what he's going to do when I actually have the baby). I've spent most of my time here running errands and trying to get us situated in our new home since we brought practically nothing with us. Today on my nineteenth grocery run, I had a really awkward experience. I had to take Ben's truck (which is already hard enough to get into), but as I was hoisting myself up (wearing slightly snug pants since they all seem to be these days) I heard a large rip. Yes, my pants ripped right up the crotch. Being the ornery pregnant lady I am, I decided it was impossible for me to return home, change, and go back to the store. So I did what every sensible person would do, I continued with my errands with a large rip in the front of my pants. I could swear everyone at the grocery store was giving me funny looks, except it was probably my imagination. Hopefully the people of Minnesota are not offended.

Gus lounging at our new apartment.


The view off our back porch.









One last thing that I need to add is that my wonderful husband took me this past month on a surprise vacation to Hawaii. It was kind of a last vaca before the baby comes, and to celebrate our three-year anniversary and my graduation (that I'll be too busy to celebrate when it comes). We had loads of fun laying around the pool and our hotel room, and it was definitely one of the best vacations.