Builder: Unknown.

Jane, our daycare provider, sent me this video in an email attachment. It's a quick watch--certainly worth 6 minutes of your time.

It's a very uplifting video and appropriate for this day, Mother's Day. And although I personally do not feel invisible in my life (I have great affirmation from a wonderful husband, an adorable son, and an incredible network of family and friends), the analogy is very fitting.

We are all building great cathedrals--maybe yours is in your work, or your family, or your craft or even your home. Mine is in all those things (and more), and every day it is my prayer that it's all done for a greater good--a Greater God--and not for my personal glory or credit. That's not what I'm here for. Are you?

"With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

I will be able to kick back eventually, kid.

I do believe bV just kicked me. Well, kicked me for the first time that I felt it.

It's a funny feeling, baby movement. Very hard to describe but it's not as adorable and precious as it sounds, I assure you. Rather alien-y, actually.

In unrelated news, funny story about my Mom: I've been having heartburn lately and started taking Dr. approved Zantac. Upon hearing this, my Mom fliiiiiiiiiiiiipppppped out. Flipped like a flipping flapjack.

SHE THOUGHT I SAID XANAX.

Nothing to see here, nothing to see here. Just whisking Mom off to a hearing appointment...

Hump day, bump day.

bV's the size of an avocado!
Now, he's about 4.6 inches long and weighs about 3.5 ounces, and he's big enough that your doctor may be able to hear his heartbeat.

bV at 16 weeks:
- He's listening to your voice, thanks to tiny bones forming in his ears.
- He's growing hair, lashes and eyebrows.
- And he's forming taste buds.

via thebump.com

An avocado you say? Well that's fairly ironic since if you were to merely suggest I look at an avocado, let alone eat it, I'd probably punch you in your kidney. Very few things sound edible, but I manage to snorf down the usual suspects of green grapes, Teddy Grahams, bananas, raisin toast and Munchies. bV and I have very eclectic tastes.

The same old song-and-dance of here-we-go-again nausea is still making a daily appearance from about 3 pm until bedtime, so we're making progress there. I'm also hurling significantly less, so that's something?

We've got about another 3.5 weeks until we find out bV's gender, and despite our rather lock-solid list containing only 1 boy and 1 girl name, we're starting to expand on that, too. Odds are fairly certain we'll revert to our original selections once push comes to shove--we're not really into change.

Oh, and before you ask, yes, I will be sharing those names in another post. I can't give you everything at once!

Evil is my middle name.

It might come as a surprise to some of you that Joey is real, real superstitious. Not about everything--it's mostly just sports related.

For instance, if the Tigers were on a winning streak during the World Series last year, he would have to wear the same shirt, sit in the same spot, eat the same food, etc. as he did in the previous winning game. No exceptions. Boy be crazy. 

At times, I use this to my very evil advantage. Like, he knows it's ridiculous but he HAS to do these things. So last night when the Ducks scored against the Wings, he turned off the TV in a huff and said, "They're gonna lose this one. I'm going to bed."

Seeing a GOLDEN opportunity to manipulate my superfan/superstitious husband, I said, "They WON'T lose if you spin around in a circle counterclockwise three times while tapping your nose and making honking noises like a goose."

The funny thing is, he knew it was ridiculous. But his inner OCD knew he HAD to do it, otherwise the Wings' impending loss was to fall squarely on his shoulders. He couldn't have that on his conscience.

I laughed the entire time. Wish I would've gotten it on camera.

And you know what? The Wings won in a stunning overtime. So tonight I'll get to see the goose honk circle dance allllll over again. This time? Cameras rolling.

On being 30, but more specifically why my skin can suck it.

If you recall, I had no fears about turning 30. There was no drama, no "woe is me," and in fact, I rather embraced it. I believe my mantra was, "30, I'm gonna rock the shit outta you."

And so I have. Thus far, 30 has been quite a ride and honestly no different from my 20s, save for oh, you know, having a toddler, a mortgage and being asleep in my very own bed at midnight. It's glorious, really.

The part that's not so glorious? My skin is having a mental breakdown. I know what you're thinking, and it has nothing to do with being pregnant, I promise.

Anyway, this 30 year old version of my largest organ (did you know that?) is very uncool. It's like my pores went though the opposite of the Honey I Shrunk The Kids machine and took over my T-Zone like ants on a Dum Dum sucker. Probably the gross ??Mystery?? flavor kind, too, just to make the analogy worse.

Anyway, everyone and their pet monkeys have been raving about those $90 million dollar facial dermabrasion scrubber treatment machines, so off I went to the world's greatest store, Target, to discover my solution.

Legit most of them are like $50+, and I'm not down with that. So when I saw the Neutrogena Wave for a mere $15 I was sold. Refill scrubber pads are about $6 a month if you use it once a day. My kinda price.

image target.com

I've been using le Wave religiously for 2 weeks now. If I'm super honest with you it's been sitting in my cabinet for about 5 months because I'm the perfect combination of lazy and unwilling to admit I have a problem. But nevertheless, I honestly can tell a difference in both the texture of my skin and the size of my pores after consistent use. So far, so good.

Neither Neutrogena or Target know I actually exist (except maybe my photo is up somewhere at Target HQ for being the world's greatest RedCard user?), so this is honest-to-Pete my own review. Sealed with a Kristi!

On why nurses need better gamefaces.

Disclaimer: this post is going to seem very doomy and gloomy as you read it, but it has a happy ending, I promise.

So we had our 15/16 week appointment today, which was both happy and sad because we knew we would get to hear the heartbeat again, but it was also my last appointment ever with my dear, dear Dr. Long before he takes his new job in the ghetto of Ohio.

Anywho, before the Dr. came in, the nurse did her jibbity-do, which involved blood pressure (perfect score, thank you), weight (nothing gained, thank you) and heart beat.

She couldn't find it.

She pushed and prodded and moved that little machine all over my belly as the look on her face grew more and more worried.

I'd seen that look before.

Twice, actually.

I nearly threw up.

She set the machine gently on the table and said she was going to get the Dr. for him to give it a go, and if not we'd go right in for an ultrasound.

As I promised in the opening line, this has a very happy ending and Dr. Long immediately found the heartbeat and all is well with bV. But those 10 minutes in the middle were just awful. This is why I think all nurses should take a course in Gameface101. I've seen all the looks--from all the nurses--and none have ever even remotely hidden it from me. For the sake of mothers and fathers everywhere whose bad news isn't actually bad news, let's make this a course in nursing school, shall we?

And then we concluded the final appointment I will ever have with one of the greatest Doctors I have ever met. I pushed him for a name as to which other Doc in the practice he would recommend, and as luck would have it I learned at one point or another, ALL the other Docs in the practice were once his very own residents. Which is wonderful, but I still wanted a name. So I asked him point blank, "If it was your daughter and you had to hand the scalpel to another Doctor in this practice, which one would it be?"

I was crying sobbing, so that probably helped me get my answer.

So, we move past today's appointment knowing that I'm in good hands and all is well with bV. June 3 is the next big date on our family calendar...will bV be a boy or a girl? We'll know then!

Hump Day, Bump Day!

bV is the size of a navel orange!
The average fetus at 15 weeks weighs 2.5 ounces and measures 4 inches -- and his proportions are becoming even more normal, since his legs now outmeasure his arms.

bV at 15 weeks:
- You probably can't feel it yet, but he's squirming a ton!
- He might even be hiccuping in there.
- He's making lots of progress: his joints and limbs can all move now.
via thebump.com

Our next appointment is tomorrow morning, and then the appointment after THAT is when we find out if bV is a girl or a boy. (Squee!) Joey says girl. I say boy. We'll see! If memory serves, that's also the appointment where I have to drink an inordinate amount of water and then hold it as if I'm being waterboarded. All the perks of modern medicine and they still can't figure that one out? Go figs.

I won't even bore you with the I-still-feel-like-garbage-from-noon-until-midnight drama, because it is what it is. Everyone who said 14 weeks? Liars, the lot of you.

I've also started designing the nursery both in my head and on a Pinterest board. It will be a combo nursery/guest room so it's been fun finding things that make me swoon but also have an adult feel to them.

And for fun, here's a snuggly wuggly picture of both of my babies: