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Archive for March, 2012

I started a baby registry early, because I wanted to SEE how much stuff we will need. I have met a couple of babies and have noted that babies come with a lot of baggage. Literally. But this was always a pretty vague concept. So I decided to lay this stuff out virtually to give myself enough time to wrap my mind around it. Here is what I’ve learned since I’ve started a baby registry:

1. Babies are divas. A baby-sized suitcase will not cut it on a trip of any length.

2. An umbrella stroller is not a stroller with an umbrella attached to the handle.

3. Amazon.com is cheaper than Target and Babies R Us. Also, baby expenses are not so much that I will consider shopping at WalMart.

4. All cribs look like baby jails. Because they are.

5. Baby books make me cry happy tears. Even just books about making baby food.

Lulu watches over the first of the baby gear

6. If you write “baby” and draw a smiley face on a mini food processor you can sell it for a lot of money.

7. Kids sit in car seats for a loooong time.

8. I will buy something solely because it is called “My Brest Friend.”

9. I am less excited about buying baby clothes for my own baby, knowing that they quickly outgrow clothes. We may become nudists until the kid stops growing.

10. For reals, babies require an incredible amount of stuff. Yes, especially that wooden rocking moose.

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Today we are guest blogging at our blog-pal and super-mom’s site: Sippy Cup Chronicles. This March, Jenny at Sippy Cup Chronicles is hosting a virtual Baby Shower Event with guest bloggers and giveaways! Stop by to read our post today and check out the Boppy Pillow giveaway going on right now!

Pregnancy has been a team effort in a way I never imagined. So for our guest post we wanted to share our pregnancy experiences in the Q & A format. We might both be expecting a dragon baby (our term of endearment), but it doesn’t mean we are experiencing things in the exact same way… Let the questioning and answering begin!

So, what does maternal bloom feel like?

To see our Qs and our As click here

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I hadn’t even realized we’d reached the peeing on a stick phase of the month. As Gilly mentioned in her recent post, she just wanted to make sure it’d be safe to have mimosas on Christmas morning. Neither one of us really expected the test to come back positive. So imagine my surprise when Gilly suddenly announced, late in the evening as we were getting ready for bed, “I think we’re pregnant.”

Yup! I've contracted new dad face.

It took time to realize what I was feeling was sheer joy and excitement, because my initial reaction was one of pure shock. Could it be? How could it be? Could it really be? It couldn’t possibly be. But there it was. The little pink lines. They couldn’t lie. Could they lie? Well, actually, I guess they do lie. But then when Gilly took the test again…and again…and again, for four days in a row – well, the little pink lines don’t lie that much.

We were going to be parents. We couldn’t contain our joy. But while we didn’t have to contain our joy, we couldn’t yet share our joy. The urge to tell everyone the second you realize you’re pregnant – especially after months now of being, as Angie Z. so eloquently put it, “two endangered snow monkeys with a thousand buggy-eyed freaks awaiting the appearance of your first offspring born in captivity” – is hard to suppress. I mean, this is BIG news. Who can keep something like that a secret for a day, let alone for weeks?

And that, dear readers, is when the first trimester intervened and knocked us both senseless. I mean, we’ve read What to Expect When You’re Expecting but nothing – not a midnight screening of The Exorcist, not a public restroom reading of The Hot Zone, not even eating one last wafer thin mint in a re-enactment of Monty Python’s Meaning of Life – could have prepared us for…Gilly’s first trimester.

Gilly sums up her first trimester experience in her last post, so I won’t regurgitate the horrors she endured. Let me just say this. There. Is. No. Celery. In. Our. House.

But there are two glowing people. After all, maternal bloom isn’t just for ladies…

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