Motherhood: It's A Numbers Game

4 and 1/2 the number of batches of Lactation Cookies I've made so far.

3 the number of pediatricians I've interviewed and still haven't found one that isn't a complete ding bat.

2 the number of times I've threatened to beat my husband to death with  my  My Brest Friend breast feeding pillow for saying stupid sh*t to me like "Why do you look so tired?"

2800 the number of times I've Skyped with my family in Texas (a 3000% increase since the baby was born)

4 the number of jeans sizes I've gone up since having this little darling. (Let's just say I used to be a "perfect 10".)

3 the number of breast pumps I've had my boobs on.

11 the number of different versions my husband has for the songs "The Isty Bitsy Spider"  and "Baa Baa Black Sheep"

8 the number of C batteries we've wasted on baby gear who's vibrating feature was supposed to calm her down.

0 the number of times ANY of those things has calmed her down for more than 45 seconds at a time.

73 the number of times I've exposed myself to breastfeed in odd placees i.e. the Trader Joe's parking lot, Target parking lot, The Improv Comedy Club's back seating section before a show etc... 

12 the number of hours I spend a week at lactation counseling- although to make it sound more fun I call it Baby Breastfeeding Bootcamp.

2 the number of flights I've taken with the baby and the Chihuahua all by myself.

0 the number of times I'll do that again.

4,862 the number of photos I've taken of my baby with my phone.

2 the number of times I've accidentally dropped my cell phone on my baby's head while trying to get work done. (*Okay one time I was playing Angry Birds.)

 
7 the  number of times I've stopped and started this blog before I was able to complete and post it.

It Had to Happen Sooner or Later...

Just because you know something's going to happen doesn't necessarily mean you're prepared for it when it does. Say for instance when your normal clothing stops fitting properly. Or we can be more specific and say your jeans...your "FAT jeans." You know, the good old faithful pair that are always in the closet for you when you've over indulged on a weekend eating and drinking binge or your PMS bloat is out of control. They're like the best friend you can call up when you've had a bad day- she tells you it'll be okay; you're still an amazing person and that things will get back to normal soon. She's usually right, but not this time. 

I recently make an investment in a few new bras. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I saw that the size bra that fits most comfortably is 36DDD. So I'm pretty sure it's just a matter of time before surpass Dog the Bounty Hunter's wife's in the boobage department. I called my mother half bragging/ half lamenting and her response was,  "You Grow Girl!" I guess funny runs in the family. (Thanks again Mommy). The boob job by Mother Nature wasn't upsetting or disconcerting- as it was to be expected. I mean one of the first clues I got that I was pregnant was instant boob growth and the super awesome soreness that accompanies it. But up until this past weekend I've still kept my hourglass shape. A nice cute little waist (in comparison to the rest of me) and all of my clothes still fit. 

I'm not sure of the exact moment it happened, but it did sometime this weekend. I know I shouldn't be surprised. All of the mommies-to-be who are on the same websites I'm on who are due at the same time are going through this too. 
Some popped even earlier. I'm not sure why I thought I was going to be different. But it happened to me this morning when I went to put on my faithful "fat jeans" which I've been wearing for the past few weeks. They went on just fine, but then dunh...dunh.. duuunh- they refused to close. In fact, I was only able to button the bottom two of the five buttons on my Lucky Brand jeans. Needless to say I was not feeling so lucky. Cause what this means is it's now time for someone to start maternity clothes shopping. Now, for those of you that haven't known me long I detest shopping- unless I'm getting a kickass deal. I'm the person who goes to the mall or department store knowing exactly what I want and I'm in and out in 20, 30 minutes max. I don't know what's wrong with me- maybe I'm missing that "girl gene" or something, but I've been that way almost all of my adulthood- (and my husband is grateful.) So I just ask that you say a little prayer to the shopping  gods on my behalf that I can find what a like and need without stressing me OR Baby Bean out. 

Before I sign off I'd to leave you with a laugh or with your mouth agape as mine was. Right after CJ and I found out we were preggers we happened to be in Macy's so we checked out the maternity clothes section just for shits and giggles. And that's where I saw something I honestly didn't even think existed- but they do. Check out the scene below.

Yes that's right maternity Daisy Dukes. Two guesses on who won't be rockin' those this summer.

P.S. If you like this and other of my blog entries please vote for me as I've been nominated for a Top 25 Mom Blog of NY. You can vote everyday for the next 10 days here: 

 http://www.circleofmoms.com/top25/Top-25-New-York-Moms-2012?trk=t25_Top-25-New-York-Moms-2012
Thanks for the love and support!