She’s no [Pregnant] Gwyneth pt. 4

It’s been a while since I continued my Gwyneth series. Or more accurately my list of:


It has been so long in fact, that I have yet to point out the differences Gwyneth and I probably have as pregnant women. Now I have no idea if her fabulousness is currently with child, I just know she has children, so the odds are good that she has been pregnant in the past. Plus I found this picture:

(Which is incidentally A LOT what I look like…ok, not really.)

If the title of my list isn’t self-explanatory enough, I will direct you to:

Part 1 of reasons “She’s No Gwyneth”

Part 2 of reasons “She’s No Gwyneth”

Part 3 of reasons “She’s No Gwyneth”

Good. Now that you’re all caught up, we can continue with the fourth installment, or part four, which I have titled:


(and though this list is a tad different, I’ll continue with the numbering of the previous lists, which brings us to…)

#18. Find traces of Butterfinger smashed against her chest when she takes off her bra. (I don’t make this crap up.) Yeah that’s right, nobody better lay a finger on THAT Butterfinger.

#19. Park in the visitors parking at work (for the past three months) and when people say, “Hey, you’re not a visitor!” point at her stomach with two thumbs and say, “I’m not, but this girl is!”

#20. Consider hanging 10lb bird cages directly above her infants head…see previous post…

#21. Eat SpaghettiOs for dinner. Ok, ok, eat an ENTIRE can of SpaghettiOs for dinner. O’ the shame!

#22. Sing, “My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely lady lump” while rubbing her pregnant belly and dancing for her husband. (I know, if Chris Martin read that one he’d be insanely JEALOUS)

#23. Consider scooting her chair to the water cooler instead of standing up to walk the 15 feet, but decide against it, only because she’s not confident she can maneuver around the corner.

#24. Constantly ask her husband if he’s sure he has enough attention for both her and the baby.

and one more thing I’m 95% sure Gwyneth Paltrow doesn’t do while pregnant:

#25. Tell people who are less pregnant than her, that her baby could probably eat their baby.


That is all for Part 4 of She’s No Gwyneth! Please feel free to share your own not Gwyneth moments, pregnant or not, because let’s face it, only Gwyneth can be Gwyneth. And that’s ok.

I love you all!!



She’s Nesting

Well sort of.

I think traditional nesting would involve making your house neat and tidy, not creating more messes for yourself with an endless series of craft projects and deciding on a whim to make a triple batch of chocolate chip cookies. Think about it, you want a cookie right now don’t you? Well I’ve got 4 dozen of them.

Moving on, I’ve been working hard on little accessories for my baby girl…a blanket, a crib skirt, embroidery work, thank you cards…the usual! And I decided I needed/wanted to make a mobile for above the crib.

My first thought was to hang one of my gold metal birdcages (I have like 20 from our wedding centerpieces) above the crib, and then use some of my leftover blanket/crib skirt fabric to make little birds, or mushrooms, or something cute, to dangle from the cage. I suggested this idea to Eric and he said, “Um, could we do something less dangerous?”

HAHAHAHA. I’m going to be the worst mom ever. The thought that one of those birdcages weighs at least 7 lbs, perhaps more, and that it’s probably NOT SAFE AT ALL to hang above our small small infant’s head, never occurred to me. And I had been thinking about this for months! Good thing this baby has got her dad to protect her. So, because Plan A led to the possible death of our firstborn, I had to move on to Plan B.

I started to do some research on Etsy to get some inspiration. Now, I respect creative copyright and don’t like to rip people off. But if something is easy to execute, and I think I can make it better, well then I will do so. In my searching I came across many mobiles that were cute, but you know, typical.

And then I found it.

The best mobile on the face of the earth. The best part is, this mobile is so creative and so original, that I would never even attempt to replicate it. So that means one less mess for me (cough, Eric) to clean up.

I just ordered it, and I’m so excited about it, that I decided I wanted to share it with all of you. It is not “baby” related at all, so you might find you need one for your home.

Ok ok ok, so without further ado, here it is…


I know, it may seem like an odd choice for my baby’s room, but I don’t like things that scream BABY. The baby, I’m sure, will do enough screaming on her own. Plus, look at that igloo LOOK AT THAT TEPEE!

I am in LOVE with this seller. And GIDDY about this mobile. I love puns! She also had some other tempting choices such as the…



and my other personal favorite


Here is a link to Jikit’s etsy shop
should you decide you need any of these mobiles as much as I did, or if you want to see more of her stuff. It’s all super cute.

I’ve decided to be more vocal with my support for things I love. Because the Greek Restaurant I love, and tried to promote to you, is now out of business. IT’S A TRAGEDY THAT COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED! I’m holding myself personally responsible. It was too little, too late, and I should have done more to save them!

So, support handmade! Get yourself a mobile before they take the Internet by storm and are gone faster than 4 dozen chocolate chip cookies in the clutches of a nearly 8-month-pregnant lady.

I adore you all.


Alison &
the very large baby in her belly who thinks she’s in a bounce house

She’s one lucky whale.


**This post, though perhaps seemingly written in my usual sardonic tone, is in fact entirely sincere. So watch out, and hang on til the end, cause I’m about to get mushy. Like real, real mushy.**

When my back hurts so badly I cannot sit or stand for more than 30 minute intervals…it’s hard to remember that I’m lucky to be pregnant.

When I have to wake up no less than four, no exaggeration, four times a night to use the bathroom, and then have to pee again immediately after pulling my pants back on…it’s hard to remember that I’m blessed to be pregnant.

When the numbers on my scale reach numbers that no 5’5″ woman’s scale should ever have to see, and I try my best to eat healthy but still for some reason, can’t help but feel entitled to multiple desserts a day…it’s hard to remember that I’m in fact very fortunate to be pregnant.

And when someone asks me, “WOW! Are you sure you don’t have twins in there?” And I reply, “Yeah, they just keep telling me there’s just the one baby in there…” and they respond with, “Well, as long as the doctors say you’re healthy…” IT’S ESPECIALLY HARD to remember that I’m lucky to be pregnant.

I’ve been struggling lately with the reality that even though I’m now in my third trimester of pregnancy, I still have to (GET TO…) be pregnant for another two and a half months. I’ve been a little depressed, anxious and self-conscious about my constantly expanding body, and the fact that I have no idea how to be a mom, live MY LIFE as a mom, or take care of the small wiggling lady who is constantly kicking me, once she breaks out of my body.

But today, honestly MINUTES after hanging up the phone with my sister, who I called to vent to because yet ANOTHER person had asked me, “So is there one baby in there…or two?” (HOW COMMON DO PEOPLE THINK TWINS ARE ANYWAY?!) I walked back in to work and bumped into a sweet girl that I see every once in a while around the building. She looked at me and said, “Oh! You look so cute!” And I said, “THANK YOU!” And then thought, “Finally someone who knows the only thing a pregnant lady wants to hear!”

A few minutes later, after returning to my desk, I got an email from her saying again how cute she thinks my belly is, and that she tries hard to not get jealous of big bellies like mine, because she is having a hard time getting pregnant, and that one day, she hopes she is lucky enough to have a belly of her own.

The email was very sweet and very sincere. She was in no way asking for sympathy, or lecturing me to remember how lucky I am. It was the nicest email in the world.


I did all could not to run (waddle) upstairs to her desk and shower her with tears of gratitude.

Isn’t it funny how God knows exactly what we need?

Because exactly what I needed, was a reminder of how lucky I am to be pregnant. And I really feel like she was maybe the only person who could do it, remind me exactly the way I needed to be reminded, at that moment.

The first four months of pregnancy, I cried all the time because I felt so fortunate to be given the opportunity to have a baby. But after a while, the sickness, the peeing, the muscle pains, and all the body image issues that resurface after years of being dormant, truly make it hard to remember how blessed us fat ladies are.

I wrote her back and told her that she was inspired, and that even though I sometimes felt like a whale, it was good to remember that I’m one very very lucky whale.

I wish I had more to blog about then pregnancy, but it’s pretty all consuming. However, instead of complaining (which I know I still did in a roundabout way!) and making jokes about all the “joys” of pregnancy, I wanted to sincerely express how overwhelmed with love and gratitude I am for the healthy baby in my belly. And the supportive husband I have who is just as excited for her arrival, if not more so, than me.

So for those of you who struggle getting one of those babies in your belly, I want you to know you are in my thoughts and prayers. And I promise to try to be better, and not to forget how unbelievably lucky I am.

I wanted to write these feelings down and share them, not to ask for reassurance from people that, “I’m a cute pregnant lady” or that “my feelings are normal” but because I wanted to make sure you all know how thankful I am to be pregnant. I know I joke a lot, and love to focus on the ridiculous aspects of giving life, but I am capable of focusing on the miraculous aspects as well.

So if you’re a mom, I have more respect for you, if you’re a mother-in-waiting, I’m praying for you, and if you’re a man, well I hope you’re not drowning in my overflowing sea of emotion and hormones.

Love and kisses,

one very lucky whale

She’s LOST in the hotness of it all.

Is it just me, or is IT FRIGGIN HOT? I MEAN REALLY REALLY HOT? Like you want to strip naked, rub your body down with Popsicles, and invite Jack Frost to lick them off you, hot.

Unfortunately, as I’m finding, I might be the only one who is THAT hot. When I walk in to work, which by the way is INSANELY stuffy and hot, and void of any windows, I have to stop myself from immediately sighing and gasping. Because my first inclination is to say, “WHOOOOWEEEE! Man is it hot in here! You guys are hot right? Geez it’s hot!”

I try to keep these thoughts to myself because these comments are usually met with blank stares, or muffled laughs as people look at my large belly. Silly pregnant lady, work is for regular humans!

Thankfully our swamp cooler at home is more than efficient, but my car air conditioning is lackluster. When you first turn it on the air blows out so warm it burns the eyes.

Anyway. Because it’s so hot I really have no choice but to stay inside as much as I can, with the swamp cooler blasting, and watch LOST on my Netflix on demand. The characters of LOST have started taking over my dreams, and I find myself getting a bit too worried about Claire and all the danger that could befall her and her baby. “DON’T LEAVE HER ALONE WITH THE FRENCH LADY CHARLIE!!!!!”

But I’m just starting season 2 SO DON’T BLOW IT FOR ME. I’m still trying to forgive Nate Barnes for calling me over Christmas break 4 years ago and giving away the end of the first season after I had spent two straight days watching it, and I only had two episodes left before the finale! It’s ok Nate, I’m working through the anger.

Anyway, season 2 starts off with an awesome song. And really, that’s the WHOLE point of this post. I know, took me long enough. But anyway. I think should all be inspired by this. And I also think I should start looking for moo moo as awesome as Mama Cass’.

So get out there, even if it is so hot you want to die, and make your own kind of music, even if nobody else sings along! SING YOUR OWN SPECIAL SONG!

I love you all, stay cool.




Well I hope you had a refreshing holiday! Mine was FANTASTIC. My family was in town and we had tons of patriotic fun. My mom, who is the nicest person in the world, took pity on her fat daughter, and even bought me some new clothes! I’m feeling far less frumpy. Now I’m just becoming terribly uncomfortable…all the time. And I can only imagine it’s going to get worse? Oh brother!

I hope your weekend was a blast too…but I doubt it was a great as mine. Why am I so sure? Because I doubt your weekend involved this matching mother-sister-pregnant daughter attire. If this isn’t patriotism, I don’t know what is:


Apparently I “look pregnant now…” even though I thought I looked pregnant 2 months ago. It seems as though I was mistaken based on the following comments:

1. A coworker said last week when I walked in, “Oh, you look pregnant NOW.” As a way of greeting me. Not, hello, or, you look cute, but, “OH! you look pregnant now.”

Well thanks. Should I take that to mean I just looked questionably chunky BEFORE? Or that I am startling HUGE now? Ha. I’m well aware the comment was meant with NO offense whatsoever, but pregnancy seems to be a topic like bad break ups and death: people have a hard time saying anything right.

2. Another girl at work who I don’t know at all asked me, “No offense…but are you pregnant?”

And I said, “Well I’d be offended if you thought I wasn’t pregnant!” And we both had a good laugh. But I WANTED to follow that up with…THAT IS THE WORSE WAY TO ASK THAT QUESTION EVER! If I wasn’t pregnant I’d be even MORE offended. Haha. There is NO good way to ask someone you don’t know if they are pregnant. She then tried to follow that up with a, “Well you can never be sure, all my friends who get married just gain ALL this weight, and I think they must be pregnant but they aren’t!” This poor, poor girl. Should we make up a pamphlet of things NOT to say for her?

and my favorite

3. On Sunday, my favorite three-year-old, who sees me fairly often, started STARING at my belly when we stood up to sing a hymn. I mean STARING. When I sat down he whispered over the pews in utter shock, “How did your belly GET SO BIG?”

Haha, I told him there was a baby in there and he nodded his head in approval and said, “Oh, ok.” Then turned around.

Who knew being pregnant could be so much fun!? And I had no idea, I mean NO IDEA, how important the size of a bump on my body could become to me! I feel good with this size and wish it would stop growing now. Not my baby girl of course, just the size of me and the bump. But we all know that’s not how this works…

Oh well! Here’s to a great week! And please do share any fantastic pregnancy comments you’ve received…or accidentally given. We won’t judge you, just love you and shake our heads.


Alison and baby

Keep it crafty, Keep it sassy.