Oh how I love the Christmas season. The tree, the decorations, browsing the holiday section of Target for hours while my Jewish husband quietly weeps in boredom. This year has been especially good because I got to decorate our new house for the first time. And I'm pregnant so when Joe asks if we really need to get stockings to hang I can say YES, which translates to YES and also shall I remind you that I'm busy creating your tiny human heir? And into the cart the stockings go.
Luckily Joe likes plants-- we've had a wide variety of potted plants all named "Planty" over the years-- so he's enjoyed having a live(ish) tree in our living room this month. Joe also inexplicably likes choosing lightbulbs (cue me weeping quietly from boredom while Joe wanders the lightbulb aisle of Lowe's) so he was able to help pick out the tree lights that best minimized the chances of me setting the house on fire.
I even tried to make the tree a little more Hannukah friendly by decking it out in blue, white and silver. Perhaps next year we'll strap a menorah to the top. Too much?
Pregnancy continues to putter along, no big changes there. After squishing around my belly recently, one of the midwives commented that although the baby is indeed lodged way up in my rib cage, he has plenty of room in there. And I was like really? Because sometimes I feel like I'm going to cough up a baby foot.
In good news, my morning sickness finally eased up sometime last month, though I've been afraid to mention it in case the pregnancy gods say, "Oh right, forgot about that! Here, puke a little more." So just keep that on the down low, okay?