The last of the red hot belly shots

I'm now at a point where I'm pretty uncomfortable. I'm not as big as some women get, but I sure do feel big for me, since I'm a relatively small person (I tend to seem taller than I actually am).


I'm supposed to do a TV interview next week for a local news station about Shape of a Mother. I'll try to let you guys know when it's on, and whoever is local can tune in if you so desire. All I know about it is that I'll be talking about pregnant womens' fears and perceptions about their bodies and what they worry/hope will happen to them, attractiveness-wise, postpartum. Aaaaand I have to show my bloated, distended stomach. Much as I'm doing here. But here I feel like I have more control - lawd only knows what could happen in the editing room, am I right?

I'm at 38 weeks as of yesterday. Two more weeks till zero hour, unless Little Bun decides it's time to exit sooner. I'd prefer later to sooner, so I can get some things done, like cleaning the house, meeting with a contractor who's supposed to saw down my kitchen cabinets to fit in an over-the-range microwave, and getting all my baby shower loot off my dining room table and into some semblance of order. Oh, and napping.

I seem to be getting to be more of a shameless hussy the longer this process goes on. Three shots of me wearing panties, and two with a bra? Speaking of bras, I must be dropping at least slightly, as bras are not quite as tortuous as they've been for the past several weeks. Huzzah!


Here's a closeup of the distended belly (sorry for the blur):

If you discern any red marks, please note it's from my obsessive scratching, not stretch marks. So far, I am stretch mark free (thank you, genetics fairy), but who knows - I hear sometimes they crop up in the breastfeeding portion of the activities.





I finally took out the belly ring, as it was infected and no amount of TLC was making it get better. The skin was just stretched too tight, and it had nowhere to go. If I had been a better planner, I'd've gotten myself a plastic spacer to hold the hole open, but by the time I got around to researching that, the hole was stretched so tight, it was almost flat. Maybe I'll get it re-pierced later on down the line, or maybe this is the end of my crazy pierced lady days (sob!). My midwife has been calling me a "secret goth" because one would never guess that Marian the Librarian me would ever have a pierced anything. In the meantime, the hole is still pretty red and nasty looking (though no longer infected or crusty). Hopefully it'll heal and not scar.




And, last but not least, what Booby considers to be the most important photos, the ones of HIM the cat testing the new Hotsling we bought. I like the Baby Bjorn, but Booby wants the kid to smother in the forest of his chest hair. The sling is nice and simple, looks like it'll be easy to wash, and seems to be a good fit - even for a 21 lb. cat. Note to self: launder Hotsling to remove swaths of blond cat fur ...

This time, it's props

I have a new post up at Props and Pans. Go check it out!

Your daily serving of product review

I've been on a roll with the product reviews in the last couple of weeks. This time we have Fiber One Chewy Bars, oats & chocolate flavor. They have 9g of fiber, which is about 35% of the daily recommended serving (but this varies by gender and age). Let's break this down:

Pros:

• These bars are lot moister than most "nutritious" bars, though of course the level of nutrition is debatable (see below). I normally eat Kashi bars because of the benefits of whole grains, but I have to admit that those things make one's mouth feel like the Sahara in July.
  
• It was nice to taste the oats in the bar, and even the taste of the salt came through, which might sound gross, but was pleasant.
• I think these are slightly helpful in greasing your inner wheels, so to speak, but as a pregnant woman who is ingesting a prenatal vitamin, as well as extra iron to stave off RLS, I need more than a fiber bar. I need a nuclear-grade psyllium husk/Colace cocktail. But for one day, they did an OK job. Booby ate two bars and he was happy with his results.

Cons:

• What is "confectioner's shellac," anyway?
• What is high maltose corn syrup, anyway?
• Hmmm, I already know what high fructose corn syrup is. Ecchh.
• Palm kernel oil, a cheap cooking oil that's probably going to become very popular for biodiesel, is probably the culprit of these bars' 1.5g of saturated (bad) fat.
• Almost too chocolately (I know, is there such a thing?) - do I really need a zigzag ribbon of chocolate icing over the top of the bar AND a metric ton of chocolate chips? Likely not.

In short, these Chewy Fiber Bars are definitely NOT an "all the time" food. (warning: audio)
Perhaps the better choice would be a Gnu Flavor & Fiber bar (which I would be happy to test and review on this blog, hint hint, Gnu Foods). 12g of fiber and no HFCS. Kinda pricey, though ($1.99 aq bar? Say it ain't so, Gnu!).

Marian the ... desk clerk

So, the job I had blogged about a couple of weeks ago? I got it! So now I can tell you about it: it's at a library, so it's perfect for me, as I am a total book nerd. In fact, I've worked in publishing for the past ten years except for a one-year stint at an insurance company and a two-month stint at the Worst Job Ever. In high school, we were made to take a standardized career aptitude test, and my #1 career, according to the test, was librarian. Unfortunately, at that point in time, I was convinced I wanted to wear all black and be a designer, and that librarians wore tweed, sensible shoes, cat-eye glasses and their hair scraped back into severe buns. So I didn't listen to the siren song of the CAT test results (although I did take note, because I remembered reading somewhere that Morrissey had once dreamed of being a librarian. And I loooooooved Morrissey).

There are still some scheduling details to be worked out, as the job offered (I interviewed for two different available positions) is one that is more focused on weekday hours. My new boss has said that we can finesse the details of my schedule after I deliver, and my mother has offered to come and mind the Bun one day a week (or possibly more if needed, but I don't want to tire her out).

This week I do training a couple hours a day (for which I am being paid - yay!), and so far the only bummer is that I have to pony up for my own background checks that say I am not a sex offender, since I will have access to children through the children's library. It's only twenty clams, so whatever (and my email subscription to Family Watchdog has clued me in to the many, many sex offenders in my area, including one on my street. Have I mentioned that we're looking to move in the next year or so?). The nice thing is that although there is a lot to learn and memorize (who knew checking out books for patrons would be so complicated?), it's understood that such memorization will take time and practice, and I am viewed as already being ahead of the game because I've worked so extensively with books (and the charming public, although my special training with drunken louts culled from three years of retail experience on South Street probably won't need to be put to use. I hope.)

Probably the hardest part will be making through the entire day while wearing a bra and not eating every twenty minutes. Wish me luck.


Image courtesy of http://www.librarian-image.net/.