Gender

As some of you may know we had an ultrasound on Friday. I decided not to find out the gender of the baby. (Yes, I'm calling it a baby more now than a fetus). However, Skot really wanted to know, so he found out! We'll see how this goes. Right now I want to wait until the birth, but who knows, maybe I'll change my mind. If YOU want to know what the gender of the baby is all you have to do is send an e-mail to Skot at skot@samatamason.com. There is one main rule. DO NOT SLIP AND TELL ME THE GENDER! If you think you might slip you have two options: don't talk to me about the baby OR don't find out and just wait with me.

Some people want to know what we are going to do about decorating a nursery and buying clothes for the baby since I don't know the gender. Obviously, decorating based on gender gives the whole secret away! Well, it's simple, we are going neutral which is what we would want to do anyway. Yes, that means no pink or blue. Skot has his own reasons for not wanting pink and blue; he wants to do some kind of a social experiment. I'll let him post about that on his own.

Speaking of Skot, he is doing well. His sweet mouth is unwired and he can eat now... and talk. He ended his broken jaw / liquid diet issue at 139 pounds. He was already thin from all his cycling and then dropped an additional 11 or 12 pounds. Crazy. No worries, he's gaining, you can stop cursing his skinniness.

New Link...

Hey everybody! Skot has started a website to help those who are suffering with "wired jaw syndrome." Take a look. It is still being worked on but is meant to have recipes, hygiene tips, etc. http://www.blenditloveit.com/

Excuse Pee, Please

Is anyone else sick of peeing ALL THE TIME? I can't count how many times I've gone today. So, so many times and I hear it only gets worse. Well, on the bright side, I felt great today. I went walking for 35 minutes, ran errands, cleaned, practiced piano - it was a pre-pregnancy sort of day. How nice to have a break.

Photography Is Hard

Yes, folks, that's right. Taking a truly good, high quality photograph is not an easy task. We now have a Canon T1i. I really like it a lot. I really am having a tough time mastering it. So, the truth is I haven't taken enough time to work with it, but I am trying. While we were at a neighborhood carnival, Skot tried to teach me a few photography principles. This is my attempt to focus on a subject and have the background blur. I can't remember how I did this. The photo isn't that great, but it's the concept I'm working on right now and I managed to nail it. If only I could do it again...

Another Baby Bump

So, it is time for another bump picture. I surrender, here it is. This is a not-so-good picture of me, but I don't care anymore. For the past 3 months I have looked terrible. It's true, I have lacked motivation to dress myself up. Feeling yucky has taken precedence over everything. That's okay, though. I have reached the stage of acceptance and my sweet husband has been so encouraging, how could I possibly feel bad about myself?
This is me at 17 weeks. :)

Explosion

For the most part I have tried to stay away from Skot's adventures in blending. Being pregnant and frequently nauseous means that I have been pretty much disgusted by his pureed food. Yes, to the point of gagging. On the positive side, I have been so proud of his efforts to be creative and to not let this whole mouth-wired-shut situation get him down.

With that said, he has had a few hiccups. Somehow, I thought we would skip this one, but apparently not. We had a blender explosion in the kitchen. I know, how sad. This was on a Saturday. Skot decided he wanted to blend eggrolls. No, no, don't gag. It's okay, I understand the throw-up feeling in the back of your throat. Anyway, he put all the food in the blender without placing the lid on, didn't see that the toggle switch was in the on position and plugged into the outlet. I heard a loud noise, then Skot cursing the blender and food and life itself. I jumped up thinking he for sure had injured himself only to find this...
Food on his face, in his hair, down his backside...
Itsy-bitsy pieces of food - everywhere...
And guess who cleaned up most of the mess? Trust me, it wasn't because he wasn't willing to do it and he did help some. I insisted on taking care of it. He needed a break. Poor boy.