Wow, I’m a crappy chronicler and tipping into being a crappy friend, too! I haven’t updated my Socks+Button posts in two weeks. I know she doesn’t hold it against me, but I’m disappointed in myself for not being on the ball.
So, I have two weeks to talk about here, and I’m going to make a hames of it (I have no idea how to spell that bit of slang, it’s an Irish expression for ‘a mess’. Phonetically will have to do).
I was giddy about last week’s fruit because Button finally tipped into melon-size territory. I’ve been waiting for this, although now it is here and somewhat gone, I feel as though it wasn’t as funny as the anticipation. I guess it’s hard to tease someone about carrying a small cantaloupe in their belly when they are so happy about it, and totally comfortable with the expanding waistline.
Last week, Button was 6.5 inches and 11oz. That’s 8.89 cm and 311.84 grams. Really growing fast now – and at 20 weeks, she was half-way done cooking! The banana (this week) is for length only, and that measurement is from ‘crown to rump’ only. Head to toe is probably more like 10 inches. Socks says she’s gained ten pounds (4.55kilos). Of course she has no issues about her weight, that would be silly and while Socks is great fun, she isn’t a self-absorbed narcissist who is worried that she is ‘fat.’
I’ve a few stories this time: one is about…drum roll please…CAKE. Socks had a craving for CAKE, and went a bit overboard… I’ll probably have to explain some of this in advance. See, there’s cake, and there’s crappy grocery-store-made sheet CAKES that you only ever have at a party. Cake is homemade and lovely. Grocery-store CAKE can be tasty but is nothing like real cake. It comes a in huge, one layer, 16×12 (bigger than 30x40cm) shape, and the icing is always way too sweet and way too greasy and there is always way too much of it. But, when a pregnant woman craves crappy grocery-store CAKE, there is no other solution than to go buy a slice.
Unless, of course, they don’t have just a slice for sale when you are in mid-craving. Then the only option is to buy a whole damn CAKE and take it home. Here’s the visual (wish I had a photo): a visibly pregnant woman with an entire huge CAKE in her arms, and nothing else…except for a big ol ‘mine-all-mine!’ smile on her face. With her happily indulgent hubby right behind, because he just knows she’s never going to eat it all herself. Quote of last week: ‘OMG I’m breaking all the rules! Wait, I’m an adult, why can’t I buy a whole damn CAKE when there isn’t a party if I want to?’
Socks’ mom is coming to visit in March, and the visit coincides with the next scan appointment. MommaSocks is, of course, super excited at the prospect. Oh, Socks can be cruel: she said she gave a big X-Factor Results type of pause before telling her mom whether Button was a girl or boy. “It’s….a…. …. …. (tension building music)… … Girl!!!!”
I’ll end on a sort-of-gross note, because I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t fascinated with the parts of living beings that are usually hidden. Button now has taste buds: which is a bit disturbing because she now can, and does, swallow the amniotic fluid she is swimming in (the fluid itself changes daily, dependent on what mom eats: Socks says Button is going to love Wint-o-green flavour Lifesavers and citrus). This might not seem too strange until you consider that what goes in, must come out. Where does the urine go? Back into the amniotic fluid!
So, yes; we all drank our own pee before we were ever born. Tasty!