random.

I usually have something in mind to write about when I start a new post. But, not today. No ideas. No funny stories. I just wanted to take a study break, and writing a blog post seemed like a good reason to take one. So, viola! Here I am.

And I guess that means that I'll just fill this blank slate with a few of the random thoughts that have run through my mind tonight.

1. It is impossible to study. And, I should be exempt from studying on account that I am about to have a baby, and that ALONE should be taking up all my brain space. However, I have my final board exam of third year this Friday. Despite that stark reality, though, I have zero motivation to study for it. And, by zero, I mean NONE. As in, I have about as much motivation to study for this test as I have to drop a bowling ball on my big toe. It ain't happening, people.

2. I really love my husband. Truly. I am giddy about him. And I hope for every girl in the world that she gets to marry someone like my husband. So she can know what it is like to be made to feel beautiful, important, funny, intriguing, attractive, special, adored, and pursed EVERY SINGLE DAY. He is the MAN of all men. Being married to him is my favorite thing.

[I'll stop there before I get overly mushy. I'm really not overly mushy. But, I do love that guy.]

3. Why is TV so bad? I have slowly weeded out all of my used-to-be-favorite-TV-shows because they all are the opposite of edifying, glorifying, and uplifting to my God. So, they are done-zo. Except for HGTV. This girl is thankful for some Home and Garden Television. Pure, innocent fun right there.

4. Arkansas is currently beating S. Caroline in the CWS. Wooo Pig Soooie. I have a feeling we may go all the way.

......

So, I really don't have that many random thoughts, I guess. My brain feels....umm....fuzzy. dead. fried. turned off. Because all I really have room in there for is thoughts of Jude, food, and school. And all I really can say about those three things right now is...

...Jude is almost here and I can't believe it. I can't wait to see what his face looks like! I think about it all. the. time.

...I'm hungry [always]. So I just texted my perfect husband to grab me a Mickey D's HAPPY meal (it really will make me happy) on his way home from his softball game tonight. Hope they won.

...School is over-rated. I'm pretty sure I've checked out for the year. Oh well.

Eeek! Just heard the garage door open! It is by far one of my most favorite sounds because it means my hubby is home. Yay!

......

He forgot the happy meal. Good thing it's late. And I'm tired. And my happiness doesn't depend entirely on chicken nuggets.

m. i. a.

My sweet husband informed me today at lunch that I hadn't blogged in a while. What can I say? The man speaks truth. Always. Even when he doesn't mean to. Yep. My man is the incredibly cute, irresistably charming, completely innocent fella that absent-mindedly sticks his foot in his mouth. A lot. Kind of like the time he, without thinking, might have mentioned that my arms may or may not have gained some weight in them during this pregnancy. Or that time he, 100% innocently, informed me that I was looking in the small section when I should obviously be browsing around in the mediums. BLESS. HIS. HEART. He really is the sweetest, most encouraging man I know, but boy, does he speak truth. It is impossible to get mad at him when he innocently lets truth escape from his mouth without running it through his brain first though. Before I have time to get mad, he smiles his sheepish smile, looks down, and then laughs at himself because he can tell by the look on MY face that what he said really didn't have to be verbalized. I am aware of my arm growth, sweetie. But, thanks.

Anyway, he's right. I have been M.I.A. I am completely aware of that. And, I BLAME SCHOOL. And a really horrible tooth-ache that I've had for the past 2 weeks. FOR REAL. TEETH CAN HURT. I have never had a tooth-ache before my new little friend came to visit two weeks ago, so I had no clue something could hurt this bad. I am NOT kidding when I say that if I go into labor with this toothache, I ABSOLUTELY WILL request that they put the epidural in my tooth. I'm being totally honest about that. It is pretty miserable. But, I am working through it.

In baby news, little man wants to hang around in the ole uterus for a while. According to the doctor, I am not progressing at all. I knew little Jude man would let me finish school. (Though I must admit, I have sort of changed my mind about that. I am SO SICK of school that I would gladly let the arrival of little Jude be my way out. But, he is a man who keeps his word, and he really meant it when he made that pact with me a while back. No going back on that deal, huh, little guy? I like that about you.) Anyway, it seems that I will likely go BEYOND June 23. UGH. Not exactly what I was hoping for, but there is some comfort in knowing that I will finish school and maybe even have a few days to get my house baby-ready (umm...I know it should ALREADY be baby-ready, but give me a break, people. I'm tired and trying to finish school. and I have a tooth-ache.)

So, that's why I have been M.I.A.

And because I love a little self-motivation (cue: eye of the tiger, arms fist-pumping in the air):

Tooth-ache, you can't stop me. You can maybe make me cry on occasion, but you can't stop me.

Medical school, you can't steal my joy. You can keep me up late at night. You can make me crazy. You can even make me get a little stressed at times. But I will own you. And, I will finish with you in just 8 short days.

Honest husband, you can keep sticking that foot in your mouth. It keeps me grounded. And, I love you for it. Because even when you accidentally tell me that my arms might look a little bigger these days, you always follow it up with really mushy-gushy-beautiful-cheesy words of affirmation that never get old. And that aren't accidental.

pregnancy makes me delusional.

I am delusional. I know it. But, I can't help it. I have tried to bring myself back to reality, but, truly, since being pregnant, I have had some major delusions that I can't seem to shake. I know they are ridiculous, but they are my delusions nonetheless. So, don't laugh at me when I admit them to you. Don't think I am ridiculous either. Because I believe them. Every single one of them.

Delusions to follow in italics.

Delusion #1.

John and I keep joking about how I am "super [pregnant] woman" because I think I can do anything non-pregnant Tara can do. If you keep my last blog post in mind, though, you will see why I think such things.

Case in point: here are a few of the things you could possibly have heard me say at one point or another during this pregnancy:

"Here, let me carry that large box of heavy stuff."

Or, "I can move that piece of furniture."

Or, "Sure, I'll go sit outside in Texas at a baseball game at 2:00 in the afternoon (aka: sit in the hottest state at the hottest time of day) for 3 hours with a dress and leggings on because I don't like the way my little large thighs look, and I'm sure I'll be fine. I probably won't even sweat at all." BAHAHAHAHAHAH. I was sweat-stained from head to toe by the end of that game. TMI? I apologize.

Or, perhaps, "Sure, Dr., we can take the stairs. Yes, I can walk from the 1st floor to the 6th floor, then back down to the 3rd floor, only to return to the 6th floor again. Stairs are no problem for me." I'm lucky to be alive after all the walking I did last week. On these thankles (see last blog post) especially.

Or, "No, I don't need to take a Sunday afternoon nap. I can wake up at 5:00, be to work by 6:30, get things done just in time to make it to church by 9:45, clean my house after church, go back to church at nighttime, then finish cleaning the house when I get home and go to bed at 11:00 so I can wake up the next morning at 5:30 to be back at work. To climb more stairs." If my writing doesn't currently make sense, you now understand. My eye-lids have anchors on them and my brown brain is fuzzy (obviously. brown?? where did that come from? legit typo.) because this was my day yesterday.

And, obviously, I am delusional. Because instead of getting a little shut-eye, I am writing this blog post right now.

Delusion #2.

I absolutely believe that Jude is going to be born on his due date, June 23rd, knowing full well that only 4% of babies are. I'm not going to go into all of this since I dedicated a whole previous blog post to it...but I really think it's going to happen. WE ARE THE 4%, JUDE MAN!

Delusion #3.

I think Jude is going to be a sleeper.  I really think that my little perfect angel baby is going to sleep his little heart away and let his momma sleep too. Because he knows me well enough to know how much I love, like, and desperately need my sleep. He wants a happy momma, right? And, if you ask anyone who knows me and loves me, they will tell you that happy Tara = rested (as in AT LEAST 8 hours, preferably 10 hours of sleep) Tara.

[Note: I know that I will need to wake up to feed him as he is a growing little fella! So, don't worry about his health and nutrition - I'll take good care of him! I just don't think he will be crying at all hours of the night for no known reason. Not my Jude man.]

[Note 2: Yes, I realize how ridiculously delusional I am for believing this one...but, it's still my delusion. And, I'm keeping it...until proven wrong...at which time, you can all chant in unison, "we told you so."]

Delusion #4.

I think I am going to leave the hospital looking like this:

I absolutely know that this is my most absurd delusion. But, for some reason, I really do think I am going to have this perfect little baby and then somehow magically return to super-fit, skinnier-than-ever-because-this-belly-is-gone, swim-suit ready Tara. I know it probably really isn't going to happen...but, like I said earlier, I can't seem to shake these delusions. So, right now, when I imagine myself strolling out of the hospital with my PERFECTLY BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND AND BABY BOY, I see me like that. Not like a girl who still looks 6 months pregnant...which is what I know is reality. It's just not my reality. Yet. And, for now, I'd rather have this delusion.

Ridiculous, huh? I know. But, these are my delusions. And, I'm sticking to them. I realize pregnancy has taken a toll on the ole' cerebrum, but I don't mind it. These delusions keep me smiling. And, they've made this pregnancy even more fun than it already is. I've never understood the old saying, "expect the worse, then when things are better, you will be pleasantly surprised." Really that translates into: "spend weeks expecting/dreading the worst thing that can happen so you can be excited for one day when something better than what you were expecting happens." I'd rather "expect the best and roll with it if it doesn't work out." This way, I get weeks and weeks of happy thoughts and when I'm let down, it's only for a day, and then I roll with it. I like it better that way. So, for now, these are my thoughts. And, I'm enjoying filling my head with them. 

Whew. That was long.

2 weeks, 5 days. That's crazy talk.

so, i can't wear my shoes anymore. no biggie.

36 weeks, 4 days.

I can't believe I have come this far. We are literally only days away from meeting our perfect little Jude baby. And, I can't wait. But not because I am super sick and tired of being pregnant. That's not the case at all. Because, for me, this whole pregnancy thing has been pretty easy schmeasy. {Knock on wood.} I don't want to jinx myself at this point, but I think it's only fair I celebrate the wonderful pregnancy I have had. Give credit where credit is due, right?

Because I was terrified.

I hate throwing up.  Even more than I hate frogs. And, if you know me, you know how big of a statement that is. (Alright, alright...I don't hate it more than I hate frogs. I hate frogs more than anything...but I said it to make a point).

I hate feeling nauseous.

I hate having back aches.

I am scared to the deepest part of my inmost being of contractions.

I've never had reflux before pregnancy and the thought of anything called "heart burn" makes me a wee bit uneasy.

I am always annoyed with having to tinkle. Much less do it every hour on the hour. And, what? WAKE UP DURING MY PRECIOUS SLEEP TIME just to tee tee? I don't think so.

What girl gets excited about gaining weight and having to wear pants with an elastic waistband? (So, maybe I got a little excited about this - eat that bowl of ice cream without feeling guilty? Yes please. Wear those super comfy pants and still be considered trendy? I'll take it.)

One word: pimples.

So, with much reason, I was terrified of the whole pregnancy thing...and of all the bodily changes that came with it. But...

I haven't thrown up once.

No queasy, nauseated girl over here.

No Braxton-Hicks contractions. Yet. I know this is coming...but, I'm still doing the happy dance that I haven't felt any sort of contraction type pain.

I did have one week, ONE WEEK, of reflux so bad that I couldn't sleep lying down. But it literally only lasted for one week. And, it really did feel like my heart was burning which is totally crazy. It was pretty miserable, and I have a whole new empathy for chronic reflux sufferers, but hallelujah! it's been gone for over a month now, never to return.

Okay, so I tinkle a lot. But, I ain't complaining on account of the three previous paragraphs. I can handle some waste excretion.

The weight gain hasn't been horrible. I'm still below my magical number (by only 2 pounds...but still...). And, the pants are for real comfy. Besides, I've never been told how cute I am more times in my entire life than I have the past 8 months. Music to my ears: 'you're all belly.'

And, yes, I have more pimples. Mainly on the back. A few on the face. But, mainly on the back, so I can cover them up and forget about 'em. Which makes me feel better.

So, when my husband bought me TWO PAIRS of perfectly, adorably cute new summer sandals for our anniversary and I couldn't wear them because of my thankles (thighs-legs-ankles), did I get upset? No. When I had to basically cut my boots off because my feet had swollen so much during the course of the day that I ripped the inner lining when trying to pull them off, did I even complain? No. So, I have some swollen little piggies. Who cares? I'll wear socks and really ugly flats. And be completely happy about it because this pregnancy has been wonderful.  I can even still wear all of my rings...on the proper fingers.

No way, no way, no way...I will not complain at all about this pregnancy. I am so beyond incredibly grateful for it. Grateful for what it means. Grateful for the blessing that it is. And, grateful that I was one of the lucky ones.

3 weeks, 3 days. ooohhhhmmmyyyy.

let's make a deal.

Depending on how well you know me, you may or may not know about the little deal I have had cooking with sweet Jude baby since I found out his due date. In short, Jude's due date is June 23. And, my last day of class this year is June 22. You heard me correctly, but I'll say it again - wonderful little Jude Aaron Venable is scheduled to arrive the day after my last day of school.

I would use this time to brag about how meticulously and perfectly John and I obviously planned out this pregnancy, but that would be a lie. We didn't really plan at all. Which is why it ended up working out so perfectly....we didn't plan; we just trusted God. And, let me tell you, when you trust Him, you learn His plans ARE perfect and He is right on time! I really love telling people about the "his-due-date-is-the-day-after-my-last-day-of-school" phenomenon because I think it is so totally cool that the timing is THAT perfect. I mean, perfect - to the day.

So, obviously, I think I am going to be in the 4-5% of women that have their baby on their exact due date. I really do. Take a test June 22. Have a baby June 23. Piece of cake.

Jude and I have been talking about this and I am pretty sure we have made a deal. By my interpretation of the high-fives and kicks, I'm fairly confident he is saying (in his sweet little baby voice), "i'm totally in, mom. the deal is sealed."

So, here is to finishing my third year of medical school. And having a baby. Right on time.

ready, set, go.

I am starting a blog. Again.

For the 483029403th time. But, I'm for real this time about it. Yes, I'm going to actually keep up with it. Because this time, I have several valid reasons as to why I want this blog to stay updated. And here they are:

1. JUDE AARON VENABLE. I am beyond over-the-top ecstatic about you, little man! As I write this, I am 4 weeks and 6 days away from your due date (June 23, 2012)...and that is totally crazy. But, you, little one, are without a doubt the NUMBER ONE reason why I want to do this blog. I want to remember every single second of life with you, so I am going to write it down on here. Not to mention, I plan on taking 3840934892843989048 pictures of you EVERY SINGLE DAY because you are most definitely going to be the cutest baby ever to be born of all time, so, naturally, I will need a place to put these pictures so all of the world can share in staring at the cutest baby ever to be born.

I really do love you already.

2. JOHN AARON VENABLE. I am also beyond over-the-top ecstatic about you! And, you said that you think I'm funny (what, what!) which makes me feel like a super cool wife. Also, you said you would read my blog if I wrote one, so here you go. This one's for you, babe.

3. I am graduating medical school this year. So, I'll have lots of stuff to write about...mainly, the JOY of graduating medical school. FINALLY.

Indeed I am blessed. So incredibly blessed. And, I want to rejoice in my blessings, in this abundant life that God has so graciously given me. To Him be all the glory. Thank you, Jesus, that I have reasons to rejoice!

And reasons to blog.