Hormonal RAGE and an update

I'm talking about Sam, of course. What, you didn't think *I* had hormonal rage did you?? But if I did, hypothetically speaking, we'd blame it all on the pregnancy, yes? Yes. Good to know. But I don't have it. Yet.
Sam probably didn't have it either, but he launched his little Veggie Tales plastic plate down from his high chair with some Hulk-like strength this evening and it broke in half.

He looked so surprised and wasn't sure whether I was mad or if I would burst out laughing. I was kind of shocked, and maybe a little peeved since that is the only kid-sized plastic plate we own, but this might be a little nudge to, um, BUY SOME MORE. I think that spells Target, but I can't be sure. I don't see how Target could ever be the wrong answer to anything, so there might be a trip taken to the enchanting red bulls-eye this weekend just to cover my bases.

Steve update:
Steve's eyes are beginning to heal, and while his ratio of sleep-to-awake time is heavily stacked on the sleep side, I'm hoping he'll come out of hibernation soon. Poor guy had a rough time last night with his left eye's contact lens crinkling up and ultimately falling out this morning, and it seemed to have a completely visceral effect on him as his nose ran constantly last night, providing us both with newborn-like sleep patterns. He went back up to the hospital this morning and got another lens put in, and was immediately relieved of most of the pain that was causing. His right eye is lookin' good though! I only teared up something like 47 times while I applied two whole drops in each eye (am such a weenie when it comes to eyeballs...).

I also put off my bi-weekly (now weekly- ACK!) OB appointment long enough, finally bit the bullet and went in this afternoon. Of course, my doctor was out delivering a baby. I mean, the nerve of these women to have their babies during clinic hours. Sheesh. It wasn't long before I was called back. Good numbers, says the doctor. (The numbers I see horrify me to no end).

Gratuitous whale picture. You're welcome.

Then the nurse told me that I would be tested for Group B Strep today and I remember telling Steve that I was going to have blood work done for that today. Then I see her pull out one of those special little blankets and a light bulb went off in my head. I said, "Wait a second. The GB Strep test isn't a blood test, is it? It's a swab, isn't it..." And then I started laughing uncontrollably and she thought it was hilarious that I was prepping myself for a needle prick when she was prepping me for a SWAB. Ya know, DOWN THERE. So haha (nervous laugh) that's fine! Whatever! It's not like y'all won't be all up in my lady bits here soon anyways. But then my doctor came in (I'm pantsless at this point obvs) and tells me that since I delivered Sam at 41 weeks, there was no sense in doing the swab this week. (Because I'm two days away from 36 weeks, and the results of this test are only viable for 5 weeks max, and if I go to 41 weeks with this one too, I will have to get hooked up to the juice no matter what because of my null and void results past five weeks. Make no sense to you either? Awesome.)

So I didn't get swabbed today. That instantly made my day about 6,487,592 times better. We listened to the heartbeat (132 bpm- sounds like a BOY) and then I told her how Steve was predicting that this baby was coming at 37 weeks. She was all, "Oh that would be super convenient, huh?" And I looked at her like she was covered in banana peels. Okaaaaay, I guess that would be convenient somehow... (???)

So we'll see. I have just about everything done. I bought some breast pads at Target last weekend and afterwards, felt SO much more prepared. Almost like, I can have this baby now that I am stocked up on breast pads. Because so long as I have those suckers, it doesn't matter if we've installed the carseat or packed a hospital bag or made arrangements for Sam or FINISHED HYPNOBABIES GAH- it's cool. Relax. I've got the breast pads. We're set. Set to stop any leak. We'll figure out labor and Sam and bringing the baby home (legally) eventually. Those are just some minor details, right?

Wanna see the front of my shirt? Sure ya do.

Yes, this woman needs more chocolate like she needs a hole in the head. DO NOT FEED THE PREGNANT LADY. And don't even go near her if you have Reeses on your person.