Bring on the pink!

'Cause the Barefoot family is having a girl.

I'm shocked -- I totally thought I saw a pee-pee on the screen this morning, but I guess this is why we pay other people to read our ultrasounds.

Everything looked great, although they want us back in 3 weeks because they couldn't see all they wanted to see of the heart because it's early (18w).  I'm a little nervous about that, but if it means we get another peek in 3 weeks, I'm not going to complain.

Oh, and I already caved and bought two pink outfits. This little chicklet (chicklette?) is going to be spoiled rotten.

In case anyone's wondering.....

Adam (Lambert) was AMAZING last night.

And now with nothing other than work to distract me, I am sliding into a major case of the nerves for our big anatomy scan on Wednesday. I think I've been feeling some movement, but it's still pretty subtle -- kind of like heart palpitations in my lower abdomen. And then I worry that my belly's not getting big enough fast enough -- but what the heck do I have to compare it to? Oh, and I'm actually feeling good -- I've been exercising and eating better, and just generally feeling like a normal human being -- which OF COURSE is cause for concern. Sigh.

We made the mistake of telling the family that we're hopefully finding out the sex on Wednesday, so already the "so, what time exactly are you going to call me?" questions are coming in from the grandparents, the great-grandparents, the sisters, and pretty much everyone else. I'm getting a feeling that there is going to be an avalanche of pink or blue gear landing on our doorstep very soon. Not that I'm complaining.....

....but I sure hope we have good news to report.

FabFooFri: A Loaf in the Oven

Now that I seem to be past the "hangover without the cocktails" phase of this pregnancy, I'm actually getting kind of fired up about food again. And not just food that comes via a drive-thru, which counted for a much greater percentage of my first trimester intake than I care to fully disclose. But all sorts of healthy stuff -- protein, veggies, things with calcium in them -- that are supposed to be good for the kiddo now actually taste good.

Earlier today, I tried to replicate one of my favorite meals discovered on a recent business trip -- basically, a mixed green salad with meatloaf on it. I know it sounds gross, but this little takeout place near my LA office makes the most delicious mixed green salad with carrots, cukes, hearts of palm and strips of turkey meatloaf, tossed in a lemony vinagrette. And the meatloaf is WARM. Yum.

So, today I rustled up some meatloaf leftovers (recipe below), cut it into fat strips (kind of like the size of chicken strips on a chicken caesar salad), and tossed them in the microwave for a couple of minutes. Then I took a bag of mixed greens and shredded carrots (didn't have any hearts of palm on hand, sadly), tossed those with some balsamic, EVOO, salt, pepper and oregano, and then laid that nice warm meatloaf on top. And sprinkled a little parmesan on top for good measure.

Oh, it was so good. I'm totally making bigger meatloaves from now on.

Wishing everyone a weekend of good eats!

Barefoot's Meatloaf

1 lb ground beef or turkey (I usually go super-lean, but it obviously tastes better with more fat in it)

1 large egg

1 cup (or so) of breadcrumbs

1/2 cup (or so) grated parmesan or romano cheese

1 clove garlic, minced

1 T dried parsley

1 T dried oregano

1 pinch red pepper flakes

Salt and pepper to taste (you don't need much salt with the cheese in there)

Preheat oven to 375. Mix all ingredients together, adding bread crumbs until mixture is just barely moist. Form into a loaf, place in loaf pan, and bake 35-45 minutes until cooked through. I usually leave beef meatloaf a little pink in the center, not so much with the turkey. (Of course, I cook everything until it's a briquette these days, under the watchful, nagging eye of the Mr.)

Sometimes, if I'm feeling like a juicier loaf, I'll add another egg and a bit more cheese and breadcrumb. Meatloaf is a very subjective thing! 

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Elle over at Baby Bunts wrote an amazing post earlier this week that pretty much sums up everything I've been feeling about this blog's transition from infertility to pregnancy blog. I've been thinking for a while now about how this blog has changed, and how I feel about that change. I mean, obviously I'm happy about the underlying reason, but there are other emotions there too -- sorrow (for those who are still fighting), discomfort (at not knowing what heck I'm talking about), suspicion (that I'm jinxing everything by talking about it), and guilt (that it only took me 2.5 years and 1 IVF cycle to get knocked up).

It's that last emotion -- guilt -- that makes me realize just how connected I still feel to the IF community. I mean (and I'm borrowing another thought from Elle here) who else but an infertile would think that 30-ish failed cycles, endless tests, needles, thousands of dollars of drugs and monitoring, and a miscarried twin would be getting off easy?!? But I do know how lucky I am, and that in the grand scheme of things, anxiety over change is a very very small problem to have. I would take every single step all over again in a heartbeat. And I probably will!

Anyway, sorry to deviate from my regularly scheduled programming of making fun of my boobs, drooling over Adam Lambert, and relating my journey from relatively in-shape woman to small sea vessel. Change has just been on my mind.

Now, back to scrounging through my desk drawers for a cookie.

In praise of the pool

I know I'm not exactly breaking ground with this proclamation, but swimming when you're pregnant ROCKS. My doctor told me as much, but she's kind of bossy so I don't listen to her all that much.

On Sunday I headed around the corner to our local Y, which has the most fabulous outdoor heated pool. I've been trying to swim a couple of times a week, but because of travel and whatnot it had been about 3 weeks since my last excursion. My back has been sore, my calves have been tight, and I tell ya, they both feel effing great right now. 

Swimming also has the added benefit of not making me feel like a giant cow (when I'm in the pool, anyway -- the thigh-jiggling trip from the locker room to the pool is another matter).  And most of the people who swim in my pool are, shall we say, of an older generation, so I feel like Michael Phelps. 

There was one hitch in the day. Because it's been a while since I talked about my giant knockers, and I know you're all just dying for an update, let me tell you that they seem to be on yet another growth spurt. My halter-style non-maternity bathing suit popped open mid-stroke not once, but TWICE.  And you know what? Cold-ish streaming water and hyper-sensitive nips do not mix. I hope at least the teenage lifeguard enjoyed the view.

I think it might be time for a new suit. 

Notes from a great weekend

I am seriously bummed to go back to work tomorrow -- it's been that great of a weekend. Weekend, how have I loved thee? Let me count the ways:

1. Perfect weather. Mid-80s, breezy, perfect for walks and shopping. Of which we've done plenty.

2. 4th of July. I love this holiday. Fireworks, barbecue, cupcakes, Barry Manilow singing some shmaltzy America song on TV -- does it get any better? OK, a beer would have made it better, but anyway.

3. Cute baby gear, purchased by my mother-in-law. We haven't been able to bring ourselves to break the shopping seal quite yet, but were perfectly happy to let someone else do it. And really, baby needed his/her first San Francisco Giants hat, don't you think?

4. Maternity Spanx. And the wonderful man who was willing to amuse himself in Motherhood Maternity while I perused and purchased. 

And finally.....

5. FRONT ROW TICKETS TO AMERICAN IDOLS LIVE. Purchased yesterday. For next weekend. Not front-row floor (I don't think I could handle that right now), but front row of the first seated section and OMG I'M GOING TO SEE ADAM LAMBERT AND HAVE INAPPROPRIATE THOUGHTS. Sitting next to my mother.

Next weekend's shaping up to be pretty good, too! Let's hope I can make it through my first 5-day workweek in about a month.

The dogs, they are barking

The feet you see to your right are not happy. Yes, they were nicely pedicured just yesterday, so they look quite lovely (if I do say so myself), but they are in revolt. Revolt against high heels.

I love heels for so many reasons. They turn an ordinary outfit into something special, they make me look thinner (OK, maybe not so much now, but they make my legs look good and my legs are the only thing I've got going for me right now, unless you're into gargantuan boobs), and they are just so pretty.

But my feets, they are hating the heels. I had a work event on Tuesday night, and I could feel them throbbing, and radiating pain up my legs. And then they were swollen for two days after that. I've taken to wearing flat sandals or flip flops to work, and then changing, but that routine is starting to make me feel like someone out of Working Girl.

So, today I went shopping -- outlet shopping, no less! -- to try and find some sensible-yet-stylish low-ish heels. But I could not find any. NONE. I had money to spend and nowhere to spend it. And all of the gorgeous 4-inch heels in summer colors were taunting me. TAUNTING.

Help! Anyone have any suggestions? My tootsies will be forever grateful.