Sasquatch

Our weather took a nose dive this week, dropping nearly 20 degrees literally over night. On Monday our high was 72 and Tuesday it was 55, plunging us right into fall and reminding us winter is around the corner. For the most part I was prepared for the change and threw on a long sleeved maternity top Tuesday morning as I got ready for work. Next I rummaged through the bottom of my closet and pulled out a couple pair of sensible pregnant lady shoes - a pair of Converse and my good ol' Toms. To my horror, I couldn't so much as get the Converse to go on my foot, no matter how I tried, the heel of my foot was not going into that shoe, next up, the Toms. I managed to barely squeeze my foot into the shoe, but determined if it was that tight at 7 am I didn't want to know how they'd feel at 5 pm after a full day of work. I pulled off the Toms and slid into my trusty flip flops and ran out the door. Nearly everyone I encountered at work had some sort of comment about my choice of foot wear, to which I simply replied "it's all that would fit on my foot." That evening when I got home from work my husband was equally unimpressed with what he saw on my feet and drove me down to DSW (one of my favorite shoe stores). We looked up and down the aisle for anything that looked comfy and was bigger than an 11 (my normal not pregnant lady foot size!) For you ladies with large feet, you know how impossible it can be to find an 11, let alone anything larger. After walking down all the aisles and trying on a few pair of super comfy looking 11's that didn't work, I headed over to the men's department. As I slipped on a pair of men's Converse the dear DSW employee approached me and said "we have Converse in the ladies department if you want to try those on instead" she looked horrified as I explained to her I normally wear a size 11 and my now huge pregnant lady feet will no longer fit in a woman's shoe. She gave me a somewhat awkward "oh, okay" and walked away. Luckily for me, I was able to come away from this shopping experience with not one but two ladies shoes - both moccasin type shoes with warm fuzzy slipper like material on the inside. I'm not going to lie, they are a bit snug and there's no way in hell they'd go on with a pair of socks, but I am hopeful they are going to work for the next four(+/-) weeks until this baby comes out and then I am praying that these feet of mine go back to their "normal" size of an 11 and that I'm just experiencing swelling due to pregnancy and not permanent foot growth because of pregnancy! As a kid when my feet were growing like weeds my dad used to tease "if those get any bigger you're going to have to start wearing the boxes" the joke isn't so funny now as I fear this may become my reality.

Stage 5

Remember a few weeks ago when I posted this blog and was grieving the loss of my HR career? Well I am happy to report I have reached Stage 5 of the grieving process which is Acceptance. Not only have I accepted the end of my career, I am now counting down the days! I let my boss and coworkers know that I won't be coming back after the baby is born and now I'm just ready to be done! I am doing everything in my power to stay motivated and engaged, luckily I have a few projects to wrap up before I go! Six more weeks until the baby is due and until I trade in the HR business for mom business! Hurrah!!

REM Sleep

I am sort of in denial of the fact that I ever even reach the point of REM sleep these days, but I must, because I'm having dreams, extremely vivid dreams, some of which could be classified as nightmares. A few nights ago I had a dream that I was horrible at being a mother. I wanted to be good at it and I was trying so hard, but I just simply was bad at it. It seemed no matter what I did it wasn't enough, or was just flat out the wrong thing to do. At one point during the dream I suddenly exclaimed "oh no, the baby is outside!" and then proceeded to go pick up my crying baby from a puddle in the pouring rain. He was swaddeled all nice and tight and had a hat on his head to keep him warm, so as you can see I was obviously trying to do good things, but that didn't counteract the fact he was lying soaking wet in a puddle. I'm sure the dream came from a few of the fears I've been having lately, namely that

1.) I am not going to bond with my baby

2.) I really am going to be bad at it seeing as I don't have a clue what I'm doing

3.) I am going to suffer from post pardom depression

With that, I suppose I shouldn't read too much into the dream as the very same night I dreamt that Pat was standing at the vaniety rubbing toothpaste all over his belly. I have no analysis of, or reasoning behind that one.