Roll with it. Literally.

I've been away from blogville for a bit...busy with work and all the home projects that need to get done before JJ arrives. I also managed a 5-day date with the beach and some girlfriends, which was glorious and relaxing and delivered a lesson on how to gracefully sun my backside without looking like I fell off the condo all crime-scene style.

But never fear — the waistline continues to expand on schedule, which is starting to attract all kinds of interesting comments: Whoa, what happened there [points at my belly]?...Oh, you've popped out!...I can see you're swelling!...You look tired!...You're ready to go any minute now!

Good Gravy — at 28 weeks, I sure hope not. I want the baby to cook a little longer, and not just for it's sake. We are not quite ready and the reality is rushing in faster than the colorful comments. While at the beach, I texted my husband, "75 days till we meet JJ...excited but starting to freak out a little!" and he responded with similar feelings. Upon returning home, we felt a little tension over the anticipation. Turns out my math was off, and as of today it's actually 84 days to our due date. Whew, sigh of relief. 10+ days is a big difference, though we realize our baby could be totally unlike us and want to arrive at the party early. Still, the moment of panic passed and gave us the focus we needed to get our A-game in order.

The baby's room has actually been painted, so we are moving in the right direction. We are still working out our registry items and birthing plan, as well as signing up for the various childbirth/education classes that will no doubt freak us out a little more. But we're working hard to help each other with the steps of this new dance, and there's been plenty of comic relief to help keep the stress under wraps since the countdown freakout.

So the colorful comments are going to keep coming, I know, and I'm willing to roll with them [insert rotund belly jokes here]...you have to or you'd cry your eyes out taking people too seriously. I just hope they ask before they touch my belly. Gracefully handling the unsolicited belly rub is not yet a tool in my ever-expanding belt.