My, How Time Flies . . .

I think I'm officially delinquent with my blogging. I'll use the holidays as my excuse, but to be honest, I haven't felt like there was much to blog about. I'm getting bigger -- much bigger. My mom assured me that I can no longer hide the fact that I'm pregnant (not that I really ever wanted to). I woke up one morning over winter break with sausage fingers. They feel almost too tight to bend, and I fear that I won't be able to wear my wedding ring much longer (or risk having it cut off the circulation in my finger). I know someone who got a new ring (diamond and all) when she could no longer wear her wedding ring. I mentioned that to Ryan as a possibility. You can imagine his response, can't you?! The other and more recent change in me is that I am now (quite conveniently) my own little space heater. Typically I'm always cold. No more. Ryan used my hands as his personal hand warmers the other day. Seriously. Maybe now I can stop dressing in layers for my classroom and use all those cute t-shirts I borrowed.

Nursery update: We finished painting, and I love it, I love it, I love it (Lisa, you know I think of you every time I say that, right?)! I'll attach a photo, I love it so much. Three walls are very pale pink, and we did one feature wall. That's the photo I'll attach. You'll have to take my word for it that the picture doesn't do it justice and will just have to visit in person to check it out for yourselves! Our crib has arrived at the store, so now we just need to hijack someones truck to go pick it up. The glider is on order, and the bookcase is waiting to be put together. Have you heard about the changing table? Ryan picked one up at a garage sale this summer, and he tried to stain it to match the rest of the furniture -- without success. Evidentally wood veneer doesn't stain very well (duh, Shelly). It looks absolutely horrific. It may very well be the start of our next bonfire. I guess we'll be picking up a changing table before March.

Christmas was absolutely terrific. Grandma and Grandpa Behrens have already started spoiling "Wee Weber". They put a serious dent in our list of "must haves". Grandma even made a great big chenille quilt (no, mom, it won't kill her despite what the book says) and personalized towels for our little miracle. Grandpa seems to have elected the role of fashion coordinator for our little girl as he got her several adorable little outfits -- complete with a little beret and Packer bibs!

We start our childbirth preparation classes at the hospital on January 2nd. Will they be comforting or alarming? For some reason I don't feel like I have yet "earned the right" to attend these classes -- like I'm not big enough yet or something. Like the other pregnant ladies will scoff at me and call me a wannabe. Anyway, we'll be there -- wannabe or not. It's officially January (okay, tomorrow it will be), and I have to start my daycare search. I've been putting this off because it stresses me out so much. I'd like to find daycare in St. Michael or Albertville, so it's close to school. My problem (as always) is that I know all too clearly what I want in a daycare. I know that I won't be able to find an opening with everything I want. Incidentally, that list includes free summers (some do daycare specifically for teachers where you don't pay for summers); a daily schedule including nap time, story time, activity time, etc.; and the use of sign language. See? I'll never find it will I? Let the frustration begin! If anyone has suggestions for finding great daycare, please let me know. I'll be at witt's end by the end of the week.

This coming weekend is my first shower, so we'll make the trek back to Lima on Friday. We toyed with the idea of leaving Ruby there for the week but thought better of it after her truffle-eating marathon over break. Ask me about inducing vomitting for a Yorkie sometime. That's fun. Alright. I think that's all I've got. We're officially in our third trimester! I can't believe it's gone this fast! I think I'm really going to struggle with post-partum depression come April. Now people are constantly telling me how great I look. After the baby arrives, I'll just be fat. Do me a favor. Throw me a bone once in a while, and tell me I'm cute. Lie if you must. =)