Remember when I said that I was going to work on giving Jackson's old nursery a new life for the new baby? Well, I took a big step in that direction this past week. I've been busy in my sweat shop craft room making the baby a quilt. I wanted to find a retro owl print fabric that would 
compliment this owl picture I found on etsy, but couldn't find anything that I liked. So, I made it myself. I found coordinating fabrics to make the quilt and got some buttons and corduroy and got busy making owl squares. I used the original owl print above as my template and cut out several little owls out of the corduroy. I wanted each owl to be unique, so I made all of 
the bellies different fabrics (that I'd use for the quilt) and different button combinations for the eyes. They are definitely all different....some of them so different it's hard to tell it's an owl and not a Cheshire Cat. (cough, cough...I'm looking at you, bottom left owl....) But I decided to use all of the owls, regardless of how owley they looked. After the long process of making the nine owl squares, I got busy on the rest of the quilt. This was the first time I had used certain quilting techniques so there is always a bit of a learning process associated with that. Making the actual quilted squares wasn't too difficult, and I've done that part before, so no big deal. Then I got to the part where I had to use a new accessory
on my machine. A walking foot. I installed it according to the directions on the box, and even put on a new needle for good measure. I got out my scrap quilt sandwich and gave it a shot. I'd get about a half inch in and my thread would break. Every. Single. Time. I rethreaded the machine. I rethreaded the bobbin. I changed the tension. I changed out the walking foot for my regular foot. I tried everything. No matter what I did, the thread kept breaking. The only thing I could think of 
was that my machine somehow broke in the process of changing the foot and I'd have to take it in to the repair shop. But somewhere between asking google about thread snapping and me throwing the machine out of our second story window, the thought crossed my mind that I changed the needle too. Could that be the problem? After further examination, I saw that I had, in fact, put the needle in backwards. Seriously?! The effing needle was in backwards?! What a rookie mistake! Well, that took care of that and I was all ready to roll again. I tried my hand at "stitching the ditch" to quilt the back to the front, and was rather successful. I was feeling pretty confident with the way everything was looking and all I had to do was attach the satin binding around the outside. Let me just say that attaching a satin binding to a silky minky fabric was more difficult that I thought. I ended up having to pin it every inch or so, but I finally got it. I'm pretty pleased with the way it turned out. And any imperfections will be chalked up to "made with love".
11 more weeks! Actually, my doctor already said she'd induce me at 39 weeks, so I'm looking at no more than 10 weeks from having this little guy outside of my body!
Baby's size: About the weight of a butternut squash. 2 1/2 pounds and 15 inches from head to heel.
Belly size: 38" around my belly. This is a little smaller than last week. I think it has something to do with him flipping head down.
Cravings: There are things I want now and then, but nothing that I'm always wanting.
Mood: Fine, just really tired all the time.
Symptoms: My back has been hurting a lot this week. Some days (like today) even walking really hurts. Still getting Braxton Hicks more often than not. My reflux has been really bad too. I've been taking medicine every day and Eric propped the bed. I guess it's helping? I think him flipping head down has given me more room in my stomach too. I've been able to eat a lot more. Unfortunately, now that he's head down, it's pushing on my bladder even more. Which means more trips to the bathroom. The good news is that this will all disappear once this baby is born!
Go to clothing: I'm really ready for the weather to get nice. We will have a nice day here and there and then it's back to cold and rainy. I have lots of shorts, skirts and dresses I can wear when the weather is good, and one pair of pants I wear when it's bad. I'm OVER my one pair of jeans! Bring on the summer clothes already!!!
Sleep: I've been sleeping okay. Jackson's been waking up at all hours though, so that's no good. Last night Jackson woke up screaming and crying for a tissue. I got him one and turned on the light and his entire face was bloody. It was a little scary at first, not knowing where the blood was coming from, then I realized it was just a bloody nose, and it had pretty much stopped already.
And I have to get up to pee a couple times through the night.
Baby movement: I can feel lots more movement now that he's head down again. The other day, I felt him moving and I pulled my shirt up. Usually I can see a lump of something moving under there. This time I saw an actual foot moving across my belly. It was pretty weird actually. He's definitely getting stronger too. The kicks are more like jabs and can sometimes hurt a little.
This Saturday Eric and I celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary. So much has happened in the last six years. We've built a new house, turned an old house into a rental, and added four more rental properties to our resume. I've stopped teaching and got my real estate license. Eric has continued to excel at his career. And, of course, we've had Jackson and are expecting another one.
For our anniversary we got a sitter
and used a gift card from my mother in law to go to Maggiano's. Dinner was awesome. We were able to eat slowly and stress free. After dinner we stopped at Babies-R-Us to look at some things for the baby. We literally haven't bought a single new thing for this little guy, so we found this cute outfit to take him home from the hospital in. *Side note, I've learned from experience that those really cute outfits are really impractical for taking babies home from the hospital in. 
Jackson's was an adorable outfit with khaki shorts and a plaid button up shirt. Not only was he way too small to wear a newborn outfit, but it was such a pain to dress him in it. My mom went to the store and picked up some preemie clothes for him to come home in. This time I opted for a short sleeved lightweight sweater material that opens completely, to avoid squishing his little head through the neck hole. I got a newborn size and am hoping it will fit this baby. From the looks of things (measurements and whatnot) he should be fine to fit into newborn sized clothes, but we'll see I guess.
A couple of updates: 1) My three hour glucose test came back fine, as suspected. 2) I think the baby finally turned head down. I feel a lot more kicks up high and I'm less uncomfortable. I even feel little smaller. I measured myself and am, in fact at least an inch smaller than when I measured myself on Wednesday. I think he's just a little more settled now.
One of my best friends is crafty and is always sharing links to cool stuff with me. Not too long ago, I got this link from her for a hand embellished ruffle tee. I totally loved it and was planning on making one. I have a couple of extra maternity tees from my screen printing project a while back that I thought would work great. They were a little big, but I figured I could always take them in on the sides. I was all ready to make it, and I went to the website to get the directions and found a whole world of make 
your own embellished tees. I saw this petal one and fell even more in love. I was actually in bed, looking on my iphone when I found it, and got out of bed to make it. I'm most productive at night anyway, and I don't have a toddler hanging on my arms the whole time, which would be almost impossible to have while making this shirt. I have a box of shirts that are too small for me, even not pregnant, that I was planning on using for this exact 
purpose and quickly found a gray one that would work with the extra white shirt I had. It was tee shirt material too, which meant I didn't have to worry about fraying. (Yay for knit materials!) I went a little rouge on the directions on the blog. I used a template to make three different sized petals. I didn't follow it to a tee, but I just wanted to make sure I didn't have super wonky big or small ones. I started with the smallest ones around the neck first and 
pinned them all in place. I went a little crazy with the pins, but given that this is the only row with an exposed seam, it was important to me that it look nice. I just pinned and sewed it on with my machine. I did one row at a time. After the first row, I was looser with the pins and placement of the petals. I eventually 
ended up with this. I really liked it, but the petals were curling up a ton. I just starched them and ironed them down and that did the trick.
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I'm officially in my third trimester! I feel like time has flown by, but I also feel like I can't believe that I still have three more months to go. I'm so ready to be not pregnant anymore. I hate to always compare this pregnancy to my last, but they are so completely different. I never felt all that big with Jackson and wasn't overly eager to not be pregnant anymore. If I could know for sure that the baby would be healthy, I'd have him today. Except we still don't have a name picked out....
I had my three hour glucose tolerance test done this morning. I have a super sweet friend that agreed to take Jackson for me, since I couldn't very well expect him to just sit on my lap for three hours. I have to say, it sucked. Perhaps not as bad as I was dreading it was going to suck, but it's definitely not something I'd want to do again. Drinking 10 ounces of 100 grams of sugar just about did me in. The four blood draws weren't all that terrible, except for the last one. My arms were pretty sore be the time they got to the fourth one. When I got to the lab and checked in, the guy at the front desk said "looks like you're going to be here a while". I jokingly asked if they had a bed, and he told me that they actually did have a 
recliner in their storage room. It was one of those hospital style recliner/rockers, but hey, it was WAY better than sitting in the waiting room, getting continually coughed and breathed on by people who were there because their doctors don't even know what kind of crazy disease they have so they have to send them to the lab. (I can be a little sensitive about germs...) Anyway, the wait really wasn't so bad. After gagging down the drink, and the initial hour after, when my blood sugar was spiking, the other two hours seemed relatively easy. (despite those pesky blood draws) When I was finished, I picked up Jackson from my friend's house and took him to Wendy's for lunch. I think that first meal after this test should actually be part of the test too. I knew to take it easy (even though I was starving) and not eat too fast, in case my body was still pissed about the fasting/sugaring combo, but after just a couple bites I started sweating and shaking. It was definitely a "is it hot in here or is it just me" moment. This, coming from a girl who's internal body temperature is either cold, or colder. Just when I thought I was going to have to start shoving yellow napkins in my pits, I started feeling a little better and cooling off again. I feel pretty much back to normal now, except for being really tired and cranky, which, if you remember from last week's post, is to be expected when you mess with my blood sugar. I should get the results in the next few days. I'm hopeful that everything will come back normal, but if not, it's not the end of the world either. I'll just adjust where need be and have this baby in a couple months.
Baby's size: About the weight of a Chinese Cabbage. 2 1/4 pounds and 14.8 inches from head to heel.
Belly size: 38 1/2 " around my belly. This hasn't changed from last week.
Cravings: There are things I want now and then, but nothing that I'm always wanting.
Mood: Fine, just really tired all the time.
Symptoms: Same as before. Lots of Braxton Hicks, even when I sit down and put my feet up for a while. My reflux is really really bad. It's been keeping me up throughout the night some nights, even though I'm taking medicine for it and popping Tums like nobody's business. I think I'll ask Eric to prop the head of our bed up even more than it already is. It's especially frustrating when I am SO tired and just want to sleep. Every time I lay down, up it comes.
Go to clothing: I'm over clothes this week. I just want stuff that covers my entire belly so the bottom of my belly doesn't hang out. (the tank top I'm wearing today isn't doing such a great job with that task)
Sleep: I mentioned it before, but I'm so super tired all the time, but when I lay down, my reflux acts up. It's frustrating. Maybe my doctor can prescribe me something stronger?
Baby movement: I'm pretty sure he is still head up, and I'm wishing he would flip already. It's been a couple weeks of a head shoved into my stomach and tap dancing on my cervix. (I'm picturing my tiny 2 pound baby with tap shoes, a top hat and cane dancing down there right now)
On a lighter note, I've been nesting working on organizing and simplifying our house lately. There are three areas of our house that make me absolutely crazy because we can't seem to keep them organized. One is our paperwork/mail system. Another is the garage. And the last is our laundry. Now, I don't want to point any fingers. However, two of those areas of the house I have very little control of. My husband deals with almost all of our finances (because it's either that, or death) and we have a lot of bills and paperwork that come into our house. We have six properties that we own, five of which we rent out. So that's six sets of utilities. Five sets of rents coming in. Four mortgages going out (one of our units is a tri-plex). Plus all of the paperwork for the property management company we hire. And just our regular bills for our personal lives too.
And partly because of these properties, and partly because he just really really like them, he also has a lot (I mean A LOT) of tools that take up a lot of space in our garage. It's great that he is willing and able to do most of the repairs around our house and our rentals. It has saved us SO much money. But this means that there are tons of tools everywhere. We've tried organizing the garage before, and have been successful, until something happens where we have to actually move things around. Like having a garage sale or a big home project. Then it all gets messy again. It's very frustrating. As far as the mail goes, we've never had a very good system. It's always just been a stack of papers on our kitchen tech center.
So, I've taken on these two projects recently. The laundry still needs a lot of work, but we aren't wearing dirty clothes or anything, and it's easier to hide dirty laundry (no pun intended) than to hide a messy garage and bills everywhere. So let's get into how I organized our mail system.
Like I said before, we've never had a good system for our mail. Typically it goes something like this.
1) The mail comes into the house and is plopped on the kitchen counter.
2) An initial sort is done for who's is who's, and three stacks are made. Mine, Eric's, and random stuff for nobody, like ads and coupons.
3) I usually ignore anything that doesn't look like a greeting card, money, or an invitation to something fun. I won't deny that I haven't contributed a little to this mail mess, however, I don't get much mail. It's mostly junk, and the two things that I'm responsible to pay on a monthly basis are online.
4) Eric goes through his mountain of mail and kinda sorta sorts it into piles that I have no idea what they mean. There is usually a trash pile, and then three or four other piles that I don't dare touch. Usually one on the kitchen table, one on the counter, one on the tech center. Like a mail explosion, of sorts.
5) That's where the mail sits until one of us moves it weeks later. After a couple weeks of random piles, I usually get frustrated and at least take all of the little piles and put them into one big pile on the tech center. And that big pile grows and grows until it's falling over.
Then another pile starts beside it.
This is not a very effective system. I've known for a long time that we needed to get this under control, but either A) lacked the motivation to actually do something about it or B) let my perfectionism get the best of me because I only wanted to do it in the way that I felt was right.
What I really wanted to do was get a beautiful piece of furniture. I envisioned a tall cherry wood book case with nice glass doors that closed and perfect little matching baskets on the shelves. One basket for each of our bills. Larger baskets to help organize some of Jackson's crafty things. Baskets for magazines. Baskets for catalogs. Baskets for everything you could imagine. But, you know, bookshelves and baskets cost money. Money that we really shouldn't spend. And for the sake of simplifying our house, spending money on something like this seems a little counter productive. My motivation and frustration with our current "system" was overtaking me. So I knew I needed to figure out a free alternative. I looked around our house for areas and things I could reorganize and re-purpose. I found that the broom closet in our kitchen could be reorganized for sure. I've recently switched all of our cleaning supplies over to Melaleuca brand, and therefore didn't need a lot of the stuff I had in there. And one of the bonuses of Melaleuca is that it also saves on space, by using concentrates. (I really like the stuff, BTW) Plus, the broom closet is a great location, given that it's in the kitchen, which is the scene of our mail crime, and there is a door on the closet so I don't have to constantly look at our bills. I also found 
a possible solution in our coat closet. I've used this shoe organizer on the top shelf to organize our hats, gloves and scarves. It worked well as a winter accessory organizer, but truth be told, we usually used the same scarves, hats and gloves all winter long and the other stuff just sat in there, well organized, yes, but unused. I think I could be just as happy going through all of them, giving away what we don't regularly use, and storing the rest in clear plastic containers. Then I could pull the shoe organizer and use it as my mail organizer. There weren't as many compartments as I was hoping, so that meant I'd have to double or triple up on some of the bill categories. But it was free, and it fit in the broom closet, so I was willing to give it a shot.
I started the process by going through the broom closet. I took out all of the cleaning supplies and got rid of a large majority of things. I also moved the big bin of dog food to a spot on the bottom of our pantry that wasn't really being used. That cleared enough space for the organizer and a shelf below it for other items that needed a new home. (Jackson's crafts, note paper, magazines)
Then I took the old winter-accessory-organizer-soon-to-be-mail-organizer and emptied it out. (Now I have to re-organize that closet, but I'll get to that another day)
Now the real work started. I sorted through our many giant piles of mail and put them into piles on 
our kitchen island. I had more piles than compartments in the organizer, so I had to make some adjustments and merge some of the categories. I labeled the organizer with post-its. I wanted to live with the system for a bit before breaking out the more permanent label maker. I'm not sure I have accounted for absolutely everything that comes into our house yet. (I can tell you that I have a
"misc." compartment and it's quickly filling up, so I'm sure adjustments are eminent.) I found a couple of bigger plastic containers in Jackson's old room/new baby's nursery that I'll probably have to replace later, to organize things on the lower shelf, and I hung an old dry erase 
board (that I already had just sitting in storage) on the door, to write down important notes or bills that are not accounted for in our monthly budget. (Like some of the medical bills I'm receiving now) I finished the project off by re-organizing the tech center 
in the kitchen, now that all of those pesky piles were gone. I went through all of the drawers, sorted everything, threw away a lot of stuff, and made it a better use of space for us.
Our new mail organizer has been in effect for about three weeks now, and so far so good. Although not *all* of us have been effectively using it, it's much easier for me to take the random piles strewn about and sort through them and put them in their proper home. And as nice as it would be for everyone who lived in this house to be super organized, that's just not the case. And I guess shouldn't put my "issues" onto others anyway. But as long as we have a system that works for at least one of us, that's a huge improvement.You might also like:Clickety-Clack Bouncer
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Just a heads up, this is my really personal breastfeeding story, and one that's hard for me to tell people. I usually end up in tears and feeling super guilty whenever I talk about it. If you have anything positive or encouraging to add, then feel free to comment. If you have anything to add that is going to contribute to my tears and guilt, then feel free to go fly a kite. Thanks.
Also, this isn't meant to scare first time moms or gross out anyone, it's just my experience, and I feel like it's important to share with other moms/soon to be moms. I don't want anyone else to feel the pain or guilt that I felt, and my hope is that others will realize that it's totally okay to make whatever decision is right for you and your family, regardless of what everyone tells you is "best for baby".
Before I got pregnant with Jackson, I really thought I wouldn't breastfeed. Not even try it. I was formula fed and have always been very healthy. I didn't see anything wrong with formula feeding, and thought it would be a more convenient, albeit expensive, way to go. I'm an extremely private person when it comes to my boobs. The thought of a baby sucking on them completely and utterly creeped me out. The thought of attaching a machine to them and sucking milk out was unfathomable. It made me uncomfortable to be around women breastfeeding their babies. I saw many women who were completely tied to their babies 24/7 because of breastfeeding. They could never ever leave their kids for more than 2-4 hours, because they had to go nurse. I didn't want to be like that. I wanted freedom to have Eric feed the baby. Freedom to not be the only one to wake up in the middle of the night to feed. Freedom to leave the baby with a sitter from time to time. Sure, breast milk is free, and washing bottles is a pain in the ass, but I still felt that it was a better choice for our family.
Then I got pregnant. At first I stuck to my formula feeding guns, but the closer I got to having him, the more research I did, I thought I'd at least give it a try. He was born and I tried it. He latched on great and everything was going swimmingly. For about 5 seconds. Then the pain kicked in. It hurt. Like, really really bad. Like, I would have rather given birth again in that moment than to have him continue to nurse. We had several different lactation consultants come in to our hospital room. They all said he was latching on fine. I continued to nurse, because everyone I talked to told me it was normal and the pain would pass after a few days. I also knew that it what was the absolute healthiest option for him, and my guilt immediately kicked in. "It's what nature intended" I'd hear. "Your body was made to do this"
By the time I took him home from the hospital, my boobs were bleeding. Literally. My milk hadn't even come in yet and I was bleeding. I continued to nurse because everyone told me it would get better, and I continued to feel guilty, and question why my body wasn't made to do this. Did nature have it out for me? Then my milk came in. Now, I not only had to deal with bleeding nipples but also engorgement, which can be rather painful too. So nursing for me meant sitting down with my new little bundle of joy, anxious to my core about what I knew was coming and bracing myself. He would latch on like a champ every time and I would proceed to swear and cry the entire time. Every time he nursed, it would break open the scab from last time and I'd start bleeding again. But I continued to nurse because everyone told me it would get better. And guilt. This went on for about 3 more days until I just couldn't take it anymore. I called both a lactation consultant and my doctor and they both told me to do the same thing. Pump. Pump until I stop bleeding, then try latching him on again.
So I started pumping. I'd sit down with my double pump, unable to hold my sweet baby boy the whole time, and ever so gradually turn the pump on. Each and every time it would break open the scab and I'd start to bleed again. I'd pump for up to 45 minutes and would be lucky to get 2 ounces. That went on for six weeks. Six whole weeks of pumping for 45 minutes (not holding Jackson), bottle feeding Jackson the pumped milk, plus supplementing with formula, for about a half hour, cleaning up all of the pumping gear and bottles for about 20 minutes, then starting the process all over again. I knew after about a week of strictly pumping that Jackson would probably never latch on again. But I continued to pump. And I continued to bleed. And swear. And cry. And feel guilty. And question why my body, the one that was made to do this, was failing me and my baby. All of this, on top of the hormonal roller coaster that I was going through postpartum and the umpteen stitches still in my lady business from a way-too-fast delivery. It wasn't until Jackson's six week appointment that our family doctor told me it was time to stop. Enough was enough. I should not be bleeding after exclusively pumping for that long, and it was no longer what was best for me or the baby. I was relieved that someone else, a trusted medical someone else, gave me permission to stop, but I still felt a certain amount of guilt that I wasn't doing what was "best for baby". I knew deep down that I was doing what was best for MY baby though. Sometimes it was hard to see my friends be so successful with breastfeeding. Especially when they would talk about how it was hard for them at first too. Like I didn't try hard enough or stick with it long enough.
I eventually got to the point where I was comfortable with my efforts, and I knew I had done everything I could. I saw that my mostly-formula-fed-baby was thriving just as well as exclusively-breastfed-babies. He was not sick, or dumb, or anything that hard core breast milk advocates lead you to believe.
I had my mind made up before I even got pregnant again that I wouldn't put myself through the pain, separation, guilt and anxiety that I went through the first time. I would formula feed from the beginning and be okay with that. And here I am, pregnant again, hormonal again, second guessing that decision. "Every baby is different" I keep hearing. True. But I'm not different. My boobs aren't different. I don't think I can go through what I went through last time, with the addition of a toddler in my life, no less. I'm afraid that if I go the "give it my best shot and if it doesn't work, I'll formula feed" method, I'll end up right back where I did last time. Which was not a pretty place. But what if it could work out this time and I don't even try?
Here's where I stand on the subject today: I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't need anyone to talk me into or out of it. There is absolutely nothing anyone could say to me that I haven't thought about and done research on already. It's a decision that only I can make, and I probably won't make it until the moment of truth.
I'm gonna vent here, so if you don't feel like hearing me whine, perhaps you should go read another blog or update your facebook status now.
I failed my glucose test again yesterday. It wasn't even borderline like last time. I failed it by about 30 points. 
That means I have no choice but to do the 3 hour test. I really don't even care that much about doing the test anymore. I just want this all over with. I'm not saying that I for sure don't have gestational diabetes, but I doubt I have it. My doctor doubts I have it. I literally have no symptoms or signs of diabetes. I'm underweight, have no personal or family history of diabetes, have never had a large baby (in fact Jackson was rather underweight too), my urine samples have had no sugar in them, and my blood sugar levels have been nice and low, except when they pump me full of ridiculous amounts of sugar. The only thing that is telling them to retest is that I can't pass this one hour glucose test. I don't have my medical degree, but I feel like there has to be a better system for testing instead of this "one-size-fits-all" test that clearly doesn't fit all. So many people fail their one hour test only to be put through the three hour and find out they are fine. Here's my theory on why I can't pass (again, this isn't scientific, it's just my personal opinion). I'm not big. At all. I'd even go out on a limb and say that I weight quite a bit less than most 6 or 7 month pregnant ladies. I don't regularly consume large amounts of sugar. I'm very sensitive to sugars actually, when it comes to how it affects my mood, but more on that later. I'm also a grazer when it comes to eating, meaning that I eat many small meals throughout the day. So fasting, going from nothing in my system and really low blood sugar levels, then pumping me full of more sugar than I would ever normally consume IS going to make my body freak out. And I'm drinking the same amount of sugar as ladies who are twice my size. (not that everyone is twice my size, I'm just saying, there should be some sort of weight based sliding scale) I just don't see how shocking someone's system is a good gauge for how they normally process regular amounts of sugar. And it makes me rather sick and messes with my mood for a couple days after the test each time. Just ask my mom, husband, or anyone else that's ever lived with me, what happens when you mess with my blood sugar. My mom best describes it as the Linda Blair, exorcist head spin scene, except with my mood, instead of my head. And, God forbid, you point out to me that I probably need to eat something, because if you do, that's when you'll get smacked in the face with the split-pea-soup-spewing. Figuratively speaking, of course.
It's just not a good test for everyone. There has to be a better, more reliable way to catch people who have gestational diabetes, without making them do the test 2, or in my case, 3 times.
I'm back from our trip to Vegas. My days consisted of sleeping in (sometimes), going to the pool for a couple hours, playing poker for a couple hours, and filling in the rest of the time eating. It was a much needed break. But now it's back to the grind of mommyhood, real estate, babysitting, cleaning and crafting.
An update on my three hour glucose test. I decided at the last minute to not take the test the Friday before the trip. I had some questions for my doctor first, and honestly didn't think I could stomach that 2 times in one week. My doctor said it was okay for me to wait until I got back. I talked to her yesterday and she's allowing me to repeat the one hour test tomorrow. If I fail this one, though, I have no choice but to do the three hour one. I'm really really hoping that doesn't happen though. I've cut as much sugar out of my diet as possible for the couple days leading up to the test, so I don't get a false positive from something stupid I ate the day before. Considering that I only failed by a couple points last time, I think I'll be fine. Fingers crossed.
Baby's size: A head of cauliflower, about 2 pounds and about 14 1/2 inches long. At my appointment yesterday, I was actually measuring right on for 27 weeks. Maybe the baby just had a big growth spurt before? Or I just popped earlier and now I'm going to start slowing down a bit? Regardless, I look much bigger than 27 weeks, but am actually right on track, right now anyway.
Belly size: 38 1/2 " around my belly. 
Cravings: Not much. I can only eat a few bites at a time anyway. I'm running out of room in my stomach.
Mood: Good.
Symptoms: I'm becoming very pregnant. I don't remember ever feeling like this with Jackson. (Maybe the week I had him) But, I'm feeling so big, doing the pregnant waddle, my acid reflux is out of control, I'm tired all the time, and my back hurts. I know I'm bigger this time around, but I also think my uncomfortableness is coming from having to chase a toddler around. I didn't have to do that last time.
Go to clothing: Mostly maternity but some bigger non-maternity. The picture above is a non-maternity dress. It fit, but it was certainly testing the stretchiness boundaries. It's actually from 26 weeks, last week at Benihana's in Vegas.
Sleep: I've been really tired lately. Getting to sleep isn't too bad, as long as I take plenty of Tums and Zantac before bed. My problem is getting enough sleep. I can't. It doesn't matter how much I get I'm always tired.
Baby movement: Still lots of movement. It's been really low the past few days, I think he's probably head up in there, kicking down low and shoving his head into my stomach. That's what it feels like anyway.
compliment this owl picture I found on etsy, but couldn't find anything that I liked. So, I made it myself. I found coordinating fabrics to make the quilt and got some buttons and corduroy and got busy making owl squares. I used the original owl print above as my template and cut out several little owls out of the corduroy. I wanted each owl to be unique, so I made all of 
the bellies different fabrics (that I'd use for the quilt) and different button combinations for the eyes. They are definitely all different....some of them so different it's hard to tell it's an owl and not a Cheshire Cat. (cough, cough...I'm looking at you, bottom left owl....) But I decided to use all of the owls, regardless of how owley they looked. After the long process of making the nine owl squares, I got busy on the rest of the quilt. This was the first time I had used certain quilting techniques so there is always a bit of a learning process associated with that. Making the actual quilted squares wasn't too difficult, and I've done that part before, so no big deal. Then I got to the part where I had to use a new accessory
on my machine. A walking foot. I installed it according to the directions on the box, and even put on a new needle for good measure. I got out my scrap quilt sandwich and gave it a shot. I'd get about a half inch in and my thread would break. Every. Single. Time. I rethreaded the machine. I rethreaded the bobbin. I changed the tension. I changed out the walking foot for my regular foot. I tried everything. No matter what I did, the thread kept breaking. The only thing I could think of 
was that my machine somehow broke in the process of changing the foot and I'd have to take it in to the repair shop. But somewhere between asking google about thread snapping and me throwing the machine out of our second story window, the thought crossed my mind that I changed the needle too. Could that be the problem? After further examination, I saw that I had, in fact, put the needle in backwards. Seriously?! The effing needle was in backwards?! What a rookie mistake! Well, that took care of that and I was all ready to roll again. I tried my hand at "stitching the ditch" to quilt the back to the front, and was rather successful. I was feeling pretty confident with the way everything was looking and all I had to do was attach the satin binding around the outside. Let me just say that attaching a satin binding to a silky minky fabric was more difficult that I thought. I ended up having to pin it every inch or so, but I finally got it. I'm pretty pleased with the way it turned out. And any imperfections will be chalked up to "made with love".
