When a hastag won't do

One of the things I love about Instagram is that I get to come up with phrases to put behind a hashtag. I'm not sure if I'm correctly using hashtags and Instagram, but I certainly get a kick out of thinking of them. Sometimes they are standard. I try to always do something related to Giselle or a puppy or a dog or something like that when I post a picture of Giselle. I try to include a hashtag that will make people smile if I can. If I'm really lucky, I can include a little phrase that makes me laugh out loud. Those are my favorite. It doesn't matter if other people laugh out loud, only me. I like to laugh.

But who doesn't?

As a general rule of thumb, the phrases behind hashtags aren't supposed to be super long. They should be somewhat explanatory, but not so long that they take up the whole line. Recently I've taken some pictures that I would have LOVED to share with the world, but the hashtag would have been too long. Or, and I'm not going to lie, I would have been ugly to post them. Because I know the people who actually read this blog, I feel like I am a bit less likely to offend people if I post those pictures here, along with a lengthy description of the picture and maybe not the nicest hashtags.

This one may be obvious. It's a tape measure. Around my stomach. I know what you are thinking, 'what's she got under there, a pillow?' No pillow, just a baby. A woman asked me a few days ago if I was carrying twins. Seriously. I'm so not even big for 37, almost 38 weeks. Granted, it may have something to do with how chocolate makes me sick and I'm restricted on what other things I can eat but still, I'm not that large. Certainly not large enough for twins. The lady then told me that she couldn't believe that my husband let me outside at 37 weeks. I'm pretty certain she has a habit of sticking her foot in her mouth. #rude #atleastmynailsarepaintedforthepicture #babyinside #ishouldnothavemeasured 

So. I got all the boxes and assorted small things put away and declared the nursery done. I ran in the living room to have Matt come look. After he finished seeing the finished product, I made him sit in the rocking chair with a loosely swaddled cabbage patch doll to pretend that he was actually rocking his own baby. At first, he was all mushy. Then, I got out my phone. His eyes rolled up and the frown came. It was funny enough to text but not to share with the world. Now you get to see it! #whenthehubbsainthappy #cabbagepatchfromthefarm #thedollaintgotshoesbuthehasclothes #atleast20yearsold #rockingchairneedstobealittlewider

 

Here's my mean post. This house is on my walking route. I see it twice a day (unless the weather is inclement and I am forced to the treadmill). For months now I've admired the flower beds (that you really can't see in this little picture) and composed-enough-for-southern-living look. I've imagined a retired lady slaving away in her yard to make it beautiful. Sun hat, little bag of yard tools, and gloves. About two weeks ago, I see a yard crew in the yard. INCLUDING THE FLOWER BEDS. I was livid. I still am. Like, so mad. My vision was wrong. #notgoodenoughforsouthernliving #whoamikidding #southernlivingdontcare #itisstillpretty #butinowipictureslaves #alagonewiththewind

 

Okay, I'm done. I better go wash the dishes before my husband comes home... Or my baby comes. 

Revising my plans

You know how sometimes life just stinks? Sometimes things just don't go as planned or you didn't have a plan and should have. I had a plan for our first pregnancy. Granted, our timeline was moved up a bit after one too many confrontations with mortality, but still, we had a plan.  You know what they say about plans though, right? Yeah.

This pregnancy hasn't been smooth sailing. In fact, it has been hard. I haven't loved being pregnant. I feel guilty just thinking that, but it is true. I am thankful every day that we were able to conceive quickly and that there haven't been any problems with the baby's development or my um, gestational habitat. Let me tell you, nine months of morning sickness is hard. It would have been impossible in a regular workplace. We don't have carpet in our house. At first, I thought that was a bad thing but lemme tell you, we'd have to replace every inch of it had we had carpet.

Anyway.

The latest hardship has certainly been the gestational diabetes. At first, the guilt and the fear. Guilt that I had done something wrong. That I hadn't been eating well, or exercising enough, or thinking enough happy thoughts. Fear that I would need a c-section, that I would have real diabetes after having the baby, and fear that our baby would be born with blood sugar problems. After lots and lots of talking, listening, whining, reading, and thinking, I know that the guilt was misplaced. It wasn't my fault. Yes, I could have been healthier when we got pregnant but there is no guarantee that the GD wouldn't have presented itself. After all, I did pretty much give up sweets about three months in since it would aggravate the morning sickness. I still have some fear. Right now, it looks like a c-section won't be necessary. If I lose the baby weight plus about ten pounds, I'm less likely to end up with diabetes. I will have to commit to an exercise program and healthy eating habits but frankly, I need to do that anyway. After exercising for at least an hour every day for the past three months, I think I can swing a 4 or 5 day a week exercise program. As far as potential problems for Thomas, I can't do a thing more about that now. I'm eating with my plan. I'm exercising. I plan to breastfeed. We'll just have to wait and see. And know that if problems do arise, it isn't the end of the world. We'll adjust and adapt. Plans are made to be tweaked, right?