Things That Go Bump In The Tank Top.

I've been seeing a ton of my friends post baby bump pix- both old and new- and I've been inspired to join their [protruding] ranks.

So here, darling friends, is what 14 weeks looks like.

If it's your third baby.

And you have possess the shortest torso known to [wo]man.

Behold.

And now you know my dirty little secret: if you can't remember
the last time you washed your hair, do French braids! Whimsical!

This is the pregnancy that Nora acknowledged at 6 weeks (!!) when she inquired about my "baby belly." I, ever the evasive master, asked her if it was possible that I had just eaten a lot of food. She patiently smiled and asked if the baby had been eating all of my food, too?

Also, yes. I had "popped" at 6 weeks. And proceeded to feel like I was hungover on the stormy seas for weeks n' weeks n' weeks to come. And then soldiered on with a positively vendetta-worthy consumption of avocados, watermelon, and liverwurst.

For fun, here's a pic of what 14 weeks looked like during my first pregnancy. Note how rested/unaffected/chubbier because I thought eating for two meant eating for eleventy billion I look! Hey there, 2009:

I loved this apartment so hard.

But even though things have changed drastically in the past four years- and even though I won't be rocking a Catwoman suit any time soon- it's still the best job I've ever had/rollercoasted onto.

Even at 1am, when a certain toddler needs me to say "sankyou" and "nightnight" to the air conditioner.

Even then.

No, for seriously.

Smile-Worthy Things. (And One Laugh-And-Regret-It-Worthy Thing.)

Happy Wednesday, everyone. Here are some pix that either make me smile or laugh inappropriately:

One of my best friends with his blondie goddaughter- mere moments before she mildly
concussed herself. Which, regardless of his Catholic/godfatherly guilt, had zero to do with
his presence/the plans for dim sum/anything else which I know he's thinking at this exact moment.

Nora asked me to take a picture of her in front of Zuzu's fan with "crazy hair." Fun factoid:
Her hair looked like this for an hour after the photo was taken. Also, an hour beforehand.

And this is a picture that my brother-in-law sent me. It's a guy on the street interviewed
about the [totally, completely tragic] shooting of a police officer. That said, His handlebar
mustache is destroying me, and YOU JUST KNOW this guy knows something.

Also? He may be Inigo Montoya.

I've done my part. You can take the Wednesday Baton from here.

Freaky Rivet Wants To Help Your Kid Be An Awesome Person.

You know I love me some kiddo activities, right? And you know how much I love sharing super-stellar companies that come my way. And I know you know there's only so many times* you can play Memory in a given day.

So I recently signed up with Freaky Rivet, a truly hilarious (and inspiring!) site designed to get your children up and at 'em- and their sticky hands off of your techie gadgets. In the words of its' creators, Freaky Rivet is "on a mission to get kids moving, creating and exploring." A lot of their projects and ideas are free. A few other things are subscription-based and cost an itty bitty bit more. Some recently featured activities have included learning how to walk like Spiderman, taking some science to the kitchen and making raisins dance, and creating a butterfly rainforest any ol' place you wanna put it. (Like in the master bedroom. Sorry, Peej.)

It's not that they don't embrace technology, it's just that they want to level the playing field and remind kiddos (and their overworked parents) that the Out Of Doors is a fairly nice place to be. (As the Mom of a toddler who believes that Dora lives in my phone, this is helpful.)

So go check them out for more info! (Now, or later via that cute little sidebar ad I've got goin'.) Future plans for this company? They're in the process of creating city-specific itineraries and have plans to partner with charities, so that Freaky Rivet can fund the activities of even more kiddos. (A current itinerary is called London Spies- heck, I'd do that one even without my kids.) And FYI, annnytime these itineraries happen for Chicago, we'll be at the ready.

(*Seven. The numbers of times you can legally play the game Memory a day is seven.)

***

Full disclosure: As a new affiliate with the company, I get a couple of bucks kicked my way when you sign up through my links or sidebar ad. Nothing to write home about, but figured you should know in case a) you're wicked keen on honesty and/or b) hugely opposed to me making some money. I totally understand. ...For real. It's fine. Fine. 

Dave Flynn, Champion Of All Of It.

Despite Susannah spending a goodly bit of our Saturday in the ER (and spending a goodly bit of time fraying my nerves) for a mild concussion- p.s. She's fine- last week was one of my favorite weeks in the history of ever.

Why? Oh, maybe it has something to do with the fact that my Dad's post-chemo scans came back with the best possible news for a dude with his type and scale of cancer:

-His markers are at a really low point (exceptional in terms of cancer), with most at the "normal" range.
-He can ditch the 48 hour chemo pump and keep up with his maintenance drugs.
-And he's able to stop taking the drug that makes him feel like a polar ice cap.

SO. As long as he keeps his marker numbers low, he's at a super-awesome place in his treatment. Basically, he's the healthiest guy with Stage 4 colon cancer his docs have ever seen. (I'm not surprised; are you surprised?)

I think we can all agree that this [ridonkulously long] round goes to Dave Flynn, King of Awesome.

This guy.

Let's all celebrate with a gigantic bowl of ice cream. Which he can now eat/enjoy/go back for seconds.

'Cause yeah. A very good week.