Oh, did I have a post for this week. Several, as a matter of fact. All of them starting out with all the fun Jason and I had at Mid-Ohio Con, meeting Ted Raimi (c'mon, everybody! "Joxer the Mighty, roams through the countryside, he never needs a place to hide...."), buying up all sorts of stuff for our kitchen decor and for Christmas presents, etc. It could've been a page-long post about Ted Raimi alone, although I can just show you that bit if I ever have a moment of time to figure out how to work our new scanner.

But other things have happened too. Like the new car - my mom and dad sprung for it, only asking for some of the money I got from the other guy's insurance company for my old car. What Maranie is driving now is a white 2002 Buick Sentry that has power everything and only 23k miles. It even has hooks in the backseat for a baby's carseat. Maranie is quite happy over this development. :-) I'm also pleased that my parents are psyched about the grandbaby on the way, as my mother has lamented over motherhood my entire life. (She'll bring up some family member's name and whisper, "She's pregnant" in a poor-thing-she's-done-for tone, much like the voice my grandmother uses when saying someone has cancer. Then my mom will go on to say whoever the poor wench is, that she's ruined her life. Gee, thanks, Mom.) They are really happy about this, my mom spending a small fortune on maternity clothes and my dad oooo-ing over my ultrasound pictures. Their enthusiasm is a nice side effect of my pregnancy that I really didn't expect.

This week at work was, well, another week at work. My mood swings are pretty damn bad as of late. Our Secret Santa program has started too - the support staff is all sneaking around and leaving each other little gifts, from now 'til our office party on Dec. 20. My Secret Santa has already left me a little trinket box, a holiday candy dish with candies, and Andes Thin Mints. It's pretty nice.

Part of my big news this week is that I'm, well, big. I just blew up over the Thanksgiving weekend. It's absurd. I've gone from just pudgy to my-god-that-woman's-pregnant. More maternity clothes are being worn, less of my old items. My feet are swelling in my shoes. If anyone is at all familiar with my anatomy, they'll know I have this natural waistline that has always prevented me from seeing my own belly-button, no matter how thin I was. Well, that waistline is slowly disappearing, and hello navel! (Although I'm seeing why it's been hidden all these years - damn, my belly-button is HUGE!) My abdomen is getting itchy from the stretching, and Jason rubs lotion on it almost every morning (really good stuff we got from Motherhood Maternity - he uses the cream on his hands. It is the best stuff, seriously, I'm recommending it to everyone I know.) Now everyone is touching my belly.

I'm getting guesses already too on what the sex of the child will be. First thing my mom does, after not seeing me for a few months, was pulling me aside when we were unpacking to take a look at my butt - if it spreads out, she says, I'm having a boy. She couldn't tell at that moment, and lemme tell ya, it's a little disconcerting having your mother checking out your ass for an entire weekend. My grandmother thinks it's a boy. A woman named Cindy at work is waffling, saying it looks like I'm carrying a girl but I'm craving junk food, which indicates a boy. All of this is ridiculous nonsense but it makes me laugh. Our big obstacles this weekend are to:

1. Get the new car titled over to us;
2. Move stuff out of the spare room to set up the nursery;
3. Unpack more stuff, or at least find a decent place to store it; and
4. Put up our Christmas tree.

All I want to do is sleep. And figure out that scanner. And get that damn "Ketchup Song" out of my head, where it's been for several days now. I think I'll work on the sleeping part first. :-)