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.

That’s a cantaloupe. Smiling face by moi.

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!

I have a few new readers, so I think I need to get back to explaining the Socks posts!

The short story: Socks is the nickname of my best friend, and she is having her first baby. Since I can’t be there with her, I’m chronicling her journey on my blog. To get to know her, and why she is so special to me, and to see the rough start she had in getting pregnant, go here, then here, and the rest are my (sometimes) weekly updates, which can be found under the tag Socks.

The BIG NEWS is that tomorrow we all get to find out if Socks has a boy or a girl! Less than 24 hours to go! I said I thought Button is a girl last week – and I learned that Socks herself unconsciously said ‘she’ twice (her hubby Bear caught her doing so). I asked why that might be, and she thinks it is because she is in charge of picking girl names while Bear gets the other option. I’ll be pleased either way, of course – if a girl, I get to say ‘I was right, nyah nyah!’ and if a boy, then I get to be Auntie E to a boy, awesome! Yes, it is all about me, duh!

So this week Socks’ Button is the size of a six-inch (15.25cm) mango, wow! Getting hefty now, and more than a handful! Socks stood in the grocery-store aisle for ages sorting thru the mango selection trying to find a six-incher. She said she was giggling to herself about just why she was so particular about her fruit, and anyone passing must have thought she was a picky bitch. However, the mangos were all too small, so the picture that follows is actually of a smaller fruit than Button…

Look at that bellah! She’s still fitting in that white top, though I can’t imagine it will make it another two weeks.

The other part that needs looked at during tomorrow’s ultrasound is the fibroid they spotted. Socks thinks she can feel it – or something – about the size of a golf ball that doesn’t move when Button does. I’m confident in her doctors, though. If there is any issue at all, they will do everything right.

I mentioned Button is moving? A lot? Yes, yes indeed. Movement visible from the outside the first time this week, and an odd bubbling feeling that Socks had been warned about. She said it felt like nothing so much than as if Button was cutting a big ripper of a fart in there. She said it made her laugh… I doubt there’s going to be many parts of this journey she does not laugh at…

Hmm, perhaps there are some things. First, she learned that buying a crib is like special-ordering a custom car from the factory: it takes ages. So allofasudden she has to start crib shopping. Ick. She also (along with me, and I bet Bear, too) still gets hit with the reality of having a baby. Quote of the week, “I realised that someone’s going to call me mom! I almost got the vapors.”

One of the books she picked up irritated her badly, too – she said she got nine pages in (she counted, just for me) and wanted to throw it across the room. I didn’t take down the details, but it was a self-important man who was so pedantic and condescending and repetitive in just nine pages she got pissed off.

The last big deal that is causing stress where no stress should be given is her Baby Shower. Now, not all cultures do this, so if you don’t know what a baby shower is here you go: a load of family and friends throw the expectant mom a party, with really stupid games and loads of presents for the upcoming arrival. Some moms will register at a shop, like for a wedding.

Socks hates, hates, hates, this sort of thing. But she can’t get out of it, her family wouldn’t forgive her. However, coordinating the date hasn’t been easy, and a big part of that is quote of the week number two, “I am not having my baby in Ohio, five hours away from home!” Her mother, of course, wanted to know why there wasn’t a Beatrix Potter ‘theme.’ As if any newborn needs a gazillion tons of just one ‘concept.’ So, the ‘theme’ is orange and green, and owls. Of any sort, kind or colour. I like it, how about you?