Christmas week in Maine, by the numbers

approximate hours spent in pajamas: 100

games played: 11
(Nerts, Oh heck, Catchphrase, Trivial Pursuit, Tick, Apples to Apples, Go Fish, War, Old Maid [these last three particular favorites of our 4-year old nephew], Bunko, Boggle)

types of sweets eaten: 18
(although not exactly countable since this involved ongoing grazing, there was: pumpkin bread pudding, apple crisp, chocolate sour cream cake, coconut macaroons, raspberry coconut bars, toffee chocolate bars, caramel chocolate nest cookies, mexican wedding cookies, date bars, butternut squash bread, banket [Dutch almond patties], puppy chow, maple pound cake, homemade candy [truffles, peppermint patties, caramels, and maple candy], french cherry pie)

entire containers of Tums chewed due to pregnancy/overeating hearburn: 1

bookstores or booksales visited: 6

books read and/or purchased: 9
(I finally got to read Steinbeck's Travels with Charley, finished but was disappointed by Joseph O'Neill's Netherland, and got a beautiful edition of Umberto Saba's poems, plus a bunch of small-town library book sale finds)

suitcases checked due to unwieldy piles of books on return trip home: 2

Christmas-eve candlelight services: 1

weeks pregnant: 34

airport delays: 0, thank heavens

sub-freezing walks on the beach: 1

snowfalls: 2

matching t-shirts donned for matching t-shirt photo: 15

Christmas plays performed: 1 (I was pregnant Mary)

stockings hung by the chimney with care: 15

moments I thought what an awesome family this kid is going to be born into: countless

30 weeks

Ah, yes. I have a blog. I'm sorry I haven't written, and surprised I haven't written much here, because pregnancy is such a weird and cool and shocking thing, and I'm weirded out and shocked almost every day. And I love reading about other people's pregnancies, have survived by doing so. Yet this at the same time it is all so personal and interior and inward...all so our experience that I want to savor it with the Mister, and friends and family--writing about it just seems to place me squarely in cliché-land. Oh, yes, I suppose there's another reason I haven't written much: trying to eke out a dissertation, grading the never-ending pile of student papers that threatens to slope off of our coffee table, and making lesson plans (only a couple more to go!) have just been a *tad* bit time-consuming.

We flew to Barcelona for Thanksgiving week; it was our last chance to see everyone there before baby, and to show off the belly (I finally have one!). We filled the too-quick trip spending as much time as possible with our friends and family, especially the Mister's grandmother, and eating as much tapas and delicious seafood as possible (fortunately, these two agenda items were perfectly compatible, although not with my smooshed heartburn-prone stomach). We made a Catalan-American Thanksgiving dinner: I contributed stuffing, potatoes, and an apple pie to others' roasted chicken, salad and vegetables. It only tasted a little like Thanksgiving, but at the same time I was so thankful for...everything...that it was indeed a Thanksgiving day.

However. I don't exactly recommend a 9 and a half hour flight crammed into the tiniest seats known to man plus two layovers when one is thirty weeks pregnant. It didn't help that our alarm didn't go off the morning of our return trip and at 6am the taxi driver woke us up. But at the same time, the travel went well and I stayed hydrated and on my feet (although my ankles resembled tree trunks by the time it was all said and done).

Speaking of which, how did 22 weeks become 30? How did I suddenly turn into the pregnant lady who "oof"s and groans every time she sits down, stands up, or rolls over? I really do think it happened overnight, because only a few days ago I was still amazed that I felt rather sprightly and was surprised every time I looked down--what I looked like didn't correspond with what I felt like. But now the two are starting to come closer together: I am definitely starting to feel like what I look like. As one of my students oh-so smilingly pointed out today, I am huffing and puffing a lot when I arrive to class. (Thanks, buddy! I hadn't noticed!) Also, turning the corner into the last ten weeks makes it seem a bit more real--in the 20-something weeks you're only about halfway. But in the 30-something weeks it's all a countdown to the big day.

There's still so much to do! So much to buy! My mom, sister, and sisters-in-law threw me a fantastic baby shower in Boston the day we flew out from there to Barcelona, and in addition to being really fun and a perfect chance to see some of the Boston-based lovely ladies in my life, they gave us some wonderful gifts. Then in Barcelona we were also given so many cute little outfits and bedding and hand-me-downs that we came home with quite a nice start to filling out this baby's wardrobe and swaddling needs. (We got so many striped outfits--I love them!--that the Mister expressed worry that our baby might look like a broken television...) But it is just the beginning! I finally ordered some of the cloth diapers we'll need, which I feel very triumphant about, and we plan to make another run to Indianapolis for further baby equipment, including the sort of obligatory crib and carseat.

Christmas is right around the corner, and I know that will make these last ten weeks (or less?!) fly by. I want to savor them all, remember every drop of them. I love being pregnant, love seeing how my body is changing and what it's capable of. I don't want this to go too fast, but at the same time, the arrival of our son can't come fast enough.