Yes, that’s right. I cleaned my SHAMPOO BOTTLES.

Back story: I tend to clean the shower when I’m in the shower (I’ll let you marinate on that visual for a moment) because it’s my least favorite chore EVER. Seriously. HATE. But proof that Satan does exist, our shower is the most disgusting place in the entire house. It’s a breeding ground for mold orgies. I’ve tried EVERYTHING — scrubbing with Clorox. Those daily shower sprayers. Running the fan constantly. Keeping the window to the bathroom open to let in sunlight, therefore giving the neighbors a nightly peepshow — but I was willing to do it FOR THE GOOD OF THE SHOWER.

**side note that I will take any suggestions on keeping said hell mouth clean…I have been pointed towards Bar Keep’s Friend & shall try that this weekend**

& last night, after a glorious day of scrubbing the house with my dear friend Lala, I hopped into the shower & put the icing on the house cleaning cake — shower scrubbing. Except by this point, I was in crazy-pregnant-nesting-cleaning-mode, and spent 30 minutes spraying & wiping every. single. square. inch of fiberglass. & just when I was going to call it a day, I realized that THERE WAS MOLD ON THE SHAMPOO BOTTLES. Playground for mold orgies, remember? So I sigh, grab my handy-dandy Clorox bottle & sponge, & go to town on the shampoo bottles. BECAUSE GOD FORBID I BRING MY SON INTO A HOUSE THAT HAS DIRTY SHAMPOO BOTTLES. I scrubbed the snot out of some Herbal Essence, y’all.

& after I replaced the bottle of “Body Envy” back on the shelf, I looked down..and screamed, “OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT?” Is that my…MUCUS PLUG?!

Oh, sweet baby Jesus in a manger. ::faint::

It’s this yellow….glob at the bottom of the shower. I know, I’m wanting to vomit just typing it out. & right when I’m about to panic & cry for Nate, I decide to make sure this is the plug before sounding the alarms. So I get down on all fours & I’m all up close & personal with this disgusting, revolting slime on my shower floor….& I realize that it’s NOT my mucus plug. Praise God.

No, it’s a slimy mold orgy that slid off the shampoo bottle. Like a compound for polygamous mold marriages led by a creepy old man. Zion Ranch, mold style.

I’ll give you a moment to lose your cookies appropriately.

So moral of the story, I have entered psychotic nesting mode. My shower belongs in Texas or Utah. & I still have my mucus plug because I have the CERVIX OF STEEL at 39 weeks with zero dilation & a wee bit of effacement.

Ironic that after having “sensitive cervix” stamped all over my charts since November 2008, I have a mucus plug that goes by the name of Clark Kent.

& then start baking muffins.

Right?

::blair feverishly eyes the baskets of office supplies:: You shall be my next victims.

Mine was only 1:7,200.

::breathes into paper bag::

Can someone please slap me as the ritual child-to-child comparison by motherhood begins?

1) I was going to take a 9-week bloat shot, but then I got a nasty stomach bug on Sunday & Monday where I shat out the pipes for 2 days straight & subsequently could button my jeans all week. Truly, there was nothing for show & tell other than a flat tummy & a Blair that looked slightly green at the gills.

2) I came to update blogger on Wednesday night, only to find it was sucking donkey balls & not saving anything. FAIL.

3) I sat down last night for 30 minutes, attempting to tap out an update. Writer’s block occurred for the first time since my sophomore year term paper.

4) I’ve been very busy this week convincing the nurse at my OB’s office that the inescapable dizzyness should probably be checked out. She was a brat, but I am going in at 3pm today to pee in a cup & have her tell me I’m too fat.

So there you go. Lame ass, no?

I have been feeling MUCH better apart from this near-fainting shiz. I haven’t puked since Sunday evening & I am actually looking forward to cooking a few things this weekend — namely, baked spaghetti which is one of my all-time favorites. On the other hand, if I don’t get a hot steak on top of a very cold salad soon, I WILL CUT A BITCH. I think I am finally understanding what a craving truly is. MY GOD I JUST WANT COLD LETTUCE & HOT MEAT. TOGETHER. Like a French love affair minus the cigarette after sex. Is that too much to ask??? I think not.

I can’t think about that at work or my token cheese stick snack will be hurled through the window at dangerous speeds. I’ve been working on my protein intake & drinking 90 oz of water per day, on top of milk & juices. Camel baby is in heaven, but I am peeing like Secretariat & currently hold the office record for speed from desk chair to toilet stall.

I do think that a portion of my absence & silence is due to the fact that I am only 2 weeks away from when we lost Harpie. & these two weeks were the development that ended Harpie’s life. I am nervous. I did the math & realized that, with the exception of 37 days, I have been technically pregnant since the beginning of September 2008. I have been pregnant almost 6 out of the last 7 months, yet I’m stuck in the first trimester. Daunting. Some days I feel invincible with this pregnancy, so secure & positive that in 30 weeks, I will be holding my baby. Other days, I feel like I walk on egg shells, waiting for the other shoe to inevitibly drop. It’s a balancing act, & one that I’m not sure I handle with the utmost grace. I’m dying to put together my Bumbleride stroller, but I can’t bring myself to pull it out of the box — because what if I lose this baby?? I am getting uncomfortable in my pants & my dog hid my Bella Band, so maternity pants would be a blessing but I just can’t seem to accept the fact that I might make it out of the first trimester.

meh. I need to shake myself out of it. I did end up telling my cousin last night, so it feels good to start spreading the word of the new babe.

Hang in there, HJ…

I totally just called my local Cold Stone to ask if they have these in store:

and they totally do. I’m buying some.

Oh, and after another near-fainting experience while I was innocently sitting at my desk, I had my blood pressure taken (110/70 so it’s fine) and called the advice nurse. Who suggested that I start downing between 60-90 oz water per day on top of milk & juices, plus eat 6 small meals of protein. That is just zero fun. ::blair nom noms on a peanut butter cracker::