Belly shot

Here you go, all you belly-lookers. 6 months pregnant. Pete thinks I'm sucking it in in this picture but I'm not.

Here's one of me and Brina taking a little hike in the Mt. Pisgah arboretum.

Last weekend, we went to Pete's dad's birthday party in Healdsburg, California. We tasted a little wine (gasp! only a little, I swear) and relaxed at this beautiful winery on a sunny fall day. I gave away all my zofran. It was a defining moment.

After the birthday party, Pete and I headed up Hwy 101 through Ukiah, where we got to see my old friend Sarah and her beautiful and witty 2 year old daughter Eva. We drove through the redwoods, and Peter hugged the requisite tree. Here's us in front of a redwood, sort of a happy Blair Witch Project picture.

And Paul and his ox, taken for the Schrey family.


To backtrack to a weekend in October, I'm going to include a few pics of our "girls" weekend to Yachats on the coast. The women I work with rented a beach house, and we all drove up for a few days of crabbing and beer-drinking. I, of course, was the only sober one, but I enjoyed reading all the Louis L'Amour books in the library. Here's one of the girls crabbing:

And another at the house likely drunk and playing quarters:

And the incredible view on the most beautiful fall day:


Well, that's all folks. Despite the words of wisdom from many women suggesting I'd feel energetic and fabulous by the 2nd trimester, the truth is I still feel drained and nauseous most of the time. I've developed an automatic defensive response when people gasp that I'm eating soft cheese or sushi or having a quarter glass of wine: (Do you know the actual likelihood of me getting listeria? There have been like 2 cases in recent history, and one was from SALAD. Do you know the most common threat to feti? Car accidents! Should I stop riding in a car? And so on and so forth. I could continue for some time. I get quite riled about it.) My response to her kicking me in the intestines is not a loving hand on my stomach but a sharp poke back and often a verbal, "knock it off!" which startles Pete a little.

I am a terrible pregnant lady, terrible. But when this kid makes her grand appearance in late January, I will welcome her with a sigh of relief, tears of joy and open arms. We are getting so excited to meet her. I can tell she's going to be ornery, just like me; When I tell her to stop kicking me, she only kicks harder. That's my girl!