Initial Name

Well, young man, as you are reading this (in the future), you most certainly have a name. But, as of this writing, you don't.

We definitely have been pouring over names since before we were even, pregnant though.

And, I'm pleased to announce that we have more than likely officially decided on your name.

In fact, we've been calling you this name for about a month, just to test drive it and see if we like it. And, we actually both LOVE it! It makes us happy, excited, and seems to encapsulate how we're feeling about you-- and isn't that what a name is supposed to do?

Now, of course we want to wait until we see you to decide for sure, because, what if you come out and you don't look like a _______?

But, we thought you'd like to know that you are very close to being officially named. And, as we inch closer and closer to week 22, I wanted to announce your likely initials.

This is pretty intense, because we're both a bit indecisive. So, check out the image below, for it contains your likely initials:

Now, just because it's almost Halloween (and wait til you see our costumes), I wouldn't play a trick without giving a treat! I wouldn't be so snarky as to leave you hanging like that! The three letters for you are as follows:

And here's an extra hint, the "W" stands for Weinstein!

The Weight is Over

After being unable to get a straight answer from the doctor (or probably, more likely, from your Mom interpreting the doctor), we finally know how much weight your Mom has gained thus far in the pregnancy.

Luckily enough, the last time she did Wii Fit was early June. By the way, Wii Fit is a video game exercise thing that, in the future, you'll probably laugh at us for using, just was we laughed at our parents for their childhood playthings: twigs and stones and mammoth bones. So in early June we were just a couple of weeks pregnant, but we didn't know it yet!



In fact, the Wii Fit sometimes asks me where your Mother is. Once, the Wii Fit and had this conversation:

Wii fit: Hey...have you seen Holly lately?

Aaron: Yes.

Wii fit: How's she looking?
A. Gained Weight
B. Lost Weight
C. About the same

Aaron: A. Gained Weight.

Wii Fit: Uh-oh...You probably shouldn't tell her that she looks like she's gained weight. Say something nice about her smile or her hair.

Okay, maybe that's not exactly how it went, but, still, that is one sassy machine!

But, it did have a point. Your Mother hasn't stepped on the Wii's scale since June ...but that all changed today.

Without further waiting, the magic number of pounds gained so far is (drum roll please)..THIRTEEN!

That's it? I can gain thirteen pounds at a Chinese buffet! No wonder the doctor said that all the weigh gained was, in fact, all baby. Your Mom is still well within the "normal" range for her height...pregnant or not. In fact, I think her BMI is still lower than mine! BMI is total bunk, by the way, but it's still funny! She really, on paper, hasn't gained that much weight.

But, the visual differences are actually beginning to be quite stunning! Want to see what approximately 13 pounds of baby weight gain looks like?

Here she is in week 12 (after already gaining about 2-3 pounds from her baseline):



And here she is in week 21! Look how big you're getting!

Now for fun, try to find two differences between the 2 21 week photos!
Also, you'll notice your nursery is growing too! That changing table was your Cousin Kathryn's! But your Uncle Dana and Aunt Mendi said you could have it now!

Sound Activated

You've already been exposed to a lot of differing types of live music: Paul McCartney, Ben Folds, Opera, and my amazing singing. Well, as of last night, you can add one more to the list: Bluegrass.

For your Nannah Joon's birthday, we took her to see Steve Martin (the comedian/writer/actor/banjo-er) and the Steep Canyon Rangers perform last night. It was a toe-tappin, hootenanny of a good time.

And you must have either really loved it or really hated it, because you were kicking and turning the whole time...without your Mother having to wake you up to play with you!

I'm beginning to think you're sound activated! And I think that's sound thinking.

Since we've been pregnant we've been attending more concerts than we ever have before. We're pretty well known for being mostly lame...but being pregnant with you has lit a fire under our tushies to get out and take advantage of opportunities as they come up: hence Paul McCartney, Ben Folds and now Steve Martin. I don't know if it's our feeling that we'll need a babysitter in order to go out in the future or that we probably won't want to leave you (for a while anyway!), but in either case, we're having a lot of fun hitting the town.

Plus, it's a lot of fun to show the bump off to the entire world!

Your Nannah was smart, though, and brought snacks for your Mom. It was a good call- Holly got starving just as the concert was beginning and ate almost half a bag of Gummy Bears.

But all your kicking and dancing to the music must've taken a lot of energy from both of you, because as the show ended, your Mom could only talk about how hungry she was again! But, this time she didn't know what she wanted...

Did she want Nachos with the 7-11 sytle gross cheese? Yes.

Or just Queso? Yes also.

She didnt' want toast or cereal or mac-and-cheese.

When we got home she figured it out: warm milk with honey and a banana...another banana! But don't worry, that's not cannibalism, she's eating tons of fruit lately. She scarfed two pomegranates yesterday as well!

Something about Steve Martin's bluegrass music got your toes a tappin'...but moreso it got you and your Mother's stomachs a growlin'.

So our evening of finger-pickin' readily turned into a late night of finger-lickin'.

Bed, White, Black and Back

As you continue to grow, your Mom's tiny back starts to hurt more and more. We've already taken some not-so-drastic steps to try to help her back, including Preggoga, Body Pillows, Massages, Heat Packs, Exercises, walks and acupuncture. All of that is true except for the acupuncture.


But a few weeks ago we tried something a little more drastic. We gave your canine brothers the boot. Preston and Toby (or "black" and "white," as we refer to them when we don't want them to know we're talking about them (yes, we're weird (but, yes, it works)) have slept in bed with us since they were puppies. They are both good snugglers and cuddlers and like to curl up in little balls, mostly on your Mother's side of the bed...mostly directly on your mother. Of course we knew we were breaking the cardinal sin of dog-raising by letting them sleep with us (that puts on equal ground instead of establishing us as leader of the pack). But, seriously...could you say 'no' to these faces?

But, as the belly and your Mom's discomfort grew, the dogs sleeping habits (which are acutally just OUR human sleeping habits) started causing more and more discomfort. She couldn't be pinned down by the close-sleeping canine comrades any longer. And then, when the body pillow came, the dogs got displaced and encroached on my side of the bed. Our queen bed suddenly felt like a tiny twin and Holly and I had a talk. A very serious talk. It went a little something like this:

Aaron: "I think we need to start training the dogs to not sleep in bed with us."

Holly: "Okay!"

So, night one came and we just didn't lift the dogs into bed no matter how much they begged. Luckily, our bed is so high that they can't get up there themselves.

After a few minutes of whining, the dogs gave up and went to sleep on the couch. Two nights later they didn't even beg to get into bed anymore.

This was much more painful on the humans than it was on the dogs. I was so subconciously worried that we had hurt their doggy feelings that I had tortured dreams of the dogs pooping in bed or messing things up. One night, in my sleep, I even went and found Toby and brought him to bed.

But, two weeks in to the no-dogs-in-bed experiment, and we're no worse for the wear. The dogs still love us (trust us, we know) and the curl up every night on the very cumfy green couch. And we've reclaimed what piece of the queen bed the body pillow leaves us with.

But, your Mom's back is still hurting her!

Thinking that, perhaps, the softness of our bed has been doing her back in, your Mom decided to try sleeping upstairs on the guest bed since it's a little firmer. Now, when the guest bed WAS our bed, I only had nice things to say for it. Granted, we bought it out of some guy's storage locker after seeing an ad in the newspaper, but it was comfortable enough!

Apparently, sleeping on the King Coil pillowtop amazing mattress we now have has spoiled me and my little back. After sleeping upstairs, I awoke feeling as if I had been broken into a million pieces...upper back, lower back, parts of my back I didn't even know I had...they were all hurting.

Your mother's back felt mostly the same as it did after sleeping in the real bed. Major experiment fail. We were back in the King Coil pillowtop soft-bed heaven last night, and my back is now fully repaired. Your Mom's...not so much.

But, not to worry, for her birthday, Mimi and Pops got your Mom a pre-natal back massage at a massage parlor. Hopefully this will work. If not, maybe we'll try swaping with Preston and Toby-- they sleep like little babies on the couch and never complain about sore backs.

A Matter of Taste

At 21 weeks, you are officially the size of a banana: Over 10 ounces and 12.5 inches long, on average.

Well, techincally YOU are a banana!

One of the coolest things about being a banana (aka being 21 weeks "old") is that you are now TASTING. That's right, bud, your taste buds are now fully functional- and you are tasting whatever your Momma is eating!

Baby-rearing sources suggest eating a variety of foods while pregnant, since studies show that when you come out, you'll be most interested in food you've already experienced.

And, boy, did we hook you up yesterday. But the sensory overload wasn't just a tasting-adventure; you got fine dining AND fine arts.

As a birthday celebration, Mimi and Pops took us to see a matinee showing of the opera "Otello" (a hilarious comedy) at the brand new Winspear Opera house in Dallas. But before we went, your Mom packed a lunch for the road. This lunch consisted of a PB&J, an apple and pumpkin seeds. And more pumpkin seeds. And more pumpkin seeds. In fact, your Mom didn't stop eating until we got to the Opera house, which was a gorgeous building which, unfortunately, you couldn't see. But, you did get to hear some really loud classical music and operatic singing! And you reacted like crazy-- kicking and rolling and punching.

By the end of act I (aka 45 minutes later), your Mom was starving again. So we went to the concession bar and being faced with a designer "micro sandwich" for 6 bucks (a micro sandwich is even smaller than it sounds) and candy, your mother chose candy.

So, a half a box of chocolate-covered almonds later, we were back in the opera house.

Now, maybe you were just a little bit bored (like your Mother who was more fascinated by the new building and hall than that particular opera) or maybe you really liked loud, tragic song. But, by the end of it, you were most likely just kicking because your mom was playing with you.

Finding the "Moor" a bore, your Mom took to pushing gently on her belly to wake you up-- and you responded by kicking and turning and stretching. At least you were both entertained!

After the last curtain call, we headed to dinner at The Grape, where you had a very nice gourmet meal. For appetizer, you tried candied brie (which we made sure was pasteurized, so you'd be safe) with crackers and bread with butter. For dinner you had grilled beef tournedos, maitre d'butter, garlic-herb frites, bitter greens salad and a red-wine demi glace (that's gourmet talk for steak, with garlic fries and a salad). And for dessert, you had the apple pie with Heath bar ice cream.

So, sensory overload for you in the taste department- what a way to start using your taste buds!

But, of course, later that evening, your Mother was starving again and- low and behold- needed to eat...you guessed it...a banana. But I wouldn't be to worried about those cannibalism worries we had earlier. It's been weeks since she's craved the fruit that matches your weekly size.

In the end, though, no matter what you experience in utero, whether you like bananas or tournedos or the Bard or Turendot, it's all a matter of taste. And now that you have taste buds, you know what I'm talking about!

Belly Explosion

So, as we near the end of Week 20, your Mother is undeniably pregnant. Outside observers have noted that your Mom's belly seems to have exploded from the end of last week to today. And, while I thought the belly would be a gradual growth, your Mom has me convinced that she's growing with leaps and bounds.

While I was asleep the other night, I half-noticed your Mom getting up, going into the closet, doing something and coming back to bed. The next morning she told me what happened:

She felt like her belly had suddenly grown in the middle of the night and suddenly, the pajamas she had put on before she went to bed were too tight. Far too tight.

So at around 1 AM, she had to get up and change into bigger pajamas!

Whether or not this belly bump is bursting spontaneously, you can most definitely tell that, after 20 weeks of pregnancy, your mother is shaped much differently than she was before (in fact, she's now shaped much more like I was in college after 4 years of buffalo chicken calzones!)

Of course, though, your Mother is gorgeous pregnant (as she is un-pregnant). I was just fat.

But, as pregnant women are likely to do, your Mom has been grumbling lately how "fat" she is, that she can't even remember being smaller and that she's never going to be the same size again. Well, that remains to be seen, but I reinforce the truth that she is gorgeous with child (does the phrase "with child" freak anyone else out?), and that she is as beautiful as ever.

Last night, while trying to help, I kinda made things worse:

Holly: "I'm so fat!"

Me: "You're not fat at all! Look, you are gorgeous! Pregnancy has given you this glow! You seem so happy all the time!"

Holly: "You mean I'm Jolly?"

Me: "Huh?"

Holly: "Jolly Holly? I'm gonna be huge by Christmas. I don't want to have a Holly Jolly Christmas!"

I don't think "Jolly" always means "Too fat to fit in a chimney..."

So, there you have it, the eratic nature of talking to a pregnant woman. Please note that she was (partially) joking around, and that I DO think (and constantly tell her) how gorgeous she is-- no matter if her belly is growing gradually, or exploding over night, as this animation I made might have you believe!

Click on Holly to see her full size! Week 8 vs. Week 20

All's Fair in Love and Pregnancy: A Photo Pictorial

To celebrate our 20th week with you, and also to celebrate that the greatest of American ideals, gluttony, is acceptable while pregnant, we took a trip to the Texas State Fair.


Cravings aren't exclusive to the Pregnant Woman; the father to be gets them sometimes too. Let's just say that we both had dreams about Fletcher's Corny Dogs. And those dreams were fulfilled last Saturday.

Your Mom, You and me had a great time eating our way across the fair grounds, and putting you proudly on display.

We shared a Turkey Leg...

A corny dog...
A corn on the cob...


and for dessert, your Mom had a Caramel Apple...

While I went the more sensible route and had 4 deep fried Oreo cookies.

The Oreos were a horrible idea. But don't worry, we didn't just eat. We had to walk around to get to the different places to eat. So, we showed you off to Big Tex...

The Ferris Wheel...


And the Texas Discovery Gardens (which just so happens to be the place where your Mom and I got married!)

But don't think that this adventure to the Fair was a victimless adventure. The Belly, sticking out the way it does, got hit with a particularly juicy glob of caramel, much to your Mother's (pretend) dismay:

But perhaps the biggest victim of the day was me. Those Oreos did not quit torturing my stomach for about 24 hours. But they tasted so good going down...however, the second after consumption I realized I'd made a huge mistake. And my body was more than happy to remind me of it constantly... I think I was sweating fried Oreo out of every pore.

Needless to say, you're going to LOVE the fair!

The best part of this adventure, though, was the coda. Less than 2 hours after we left the fair grounds, your Mother announced that she was hungry. Me? I was still futilely fighting off the fried fair fare.

Sometimes it pays to be preggers!