I totally understand that we’ve come to a point in society where people know it is generally frowned upon to ask a woman if she’s pregnant. You never want to assume and then realize that you are wrong (because not only do you feel like an ass, you’ve probably hurt a woman’s feelings).
However… there is a point where politeness just seems ridiculous. On Monday, I received a “Congratulations!” from someone. I hadn’t realized that I never spoke about my pregnancy to this person though I don’t see them much. She proceeded to say, “I thought maybe you were pregnant but wasn’t sure so I didn’t want to say. But when I saw you put on that support belt at the gym, I knew.” (btw – I am back to wearing a pregnancy support belt at the gym for when I run jog).
But seriously? You “suspected” but didn’t want to say anything? This is what I look like right now (excuse the terrible phone pic taken in the gym):
I am 23 weeks pregnant. I am beyond the halfway mark and with this being my second pregnancy, I started showing MUCH sooner. I’ve looked like this for quite some time now.
So while I appreciate the politeness of not assuming… COME ON!
Incidentally, I ran into someone I hadn’t seen in awhile that didn’t know I was pregnant. And she said, “Wow – you must be due very soon!” Yeah… I have another 4 months.
It really is amazing how by not sharing this news on Facebook, I’m met with lots of “whoa! I had no idea!” How did people communicate this type of news in the olden days?
For the last month or so, we’ve been talking about moving into my mom’s house. We abstractly spoke about the renovations that needed to take place and then spent the last month cleaning out and/or packing up my mom’s house.
Demo started yesterday. And while I still have a lot of mixed emotions about moving, renovations sometimes make me giddy. I love before and after pictures. I love that some of the stuff that has driven me crazy for years at my parents’ house will finally be fixed (or at least updated!).
Unfortunately, I didn’t take any “before” pictures (when all of the furniture was still in the rooms) so I know my before and afters won’t necessarily be as dramatic.
Currently, the non-master bedroom full bathroom is being completed renovated. They demoed the entire room yesterday. I didn’t stop by the house to see it but Jeremy did and sent me this pic:
That, my friends, is a nearly completely gutted bathroom. Apparently they realized that the ugly tiled floor was original to the house (they were concrete tiles that were several inches thick and were laid into a mesh flooring thingy). Crazy, right? They also discovered that the bathroom cabinets were blocking an air duct. So a/c and heat have been blowing directly in the back of a cabinet FOR YEARS. The shower was leaking internally (and that’s why there is no subfloor). Basically this bathroom desperately needed to be gutted.
I can’t wait to share the “after” pictures (but that probably won’t be for another week or two due to the work having to stop to accommodate the flooring guys).
I’ll share some current “before” pictures of all of the rooms without furniture (just the paint, wallpaper and carpet) so there’s at least SOME before/after shots.
But now that this has started, it really means that we’re moving. UGH.
While I keep trying to stay positive about the move to my mom’s (an extra set of helping hands!), there are some things that I’m dreading.
She has turned my daughter into the cookie monster.
Granted, AM learned the word “cookie” from us (I’m assuming). But she knows that grandma will give her a cookie (or lollipop) if she asks for it. Unfortunately for us, AM can perfectly express that she wants a cookie now.
Btw – we totally let her have a cookie here and there. My mom? She will give AM as many cookies as she asks for (especially if we’re not in the room). It is hard to resist though because her saying “cookie” is (in my humble opinion) one of the cutest things in the world right now.