Mildly Amusing Musings

At 18 Weeks

2010-03-18T15:55:00.000-07:00

Hello Lovlies!

I just realized I neglected to post the bi-weekly pregnancy update at the beginning of the week as is usually my custom. I'm sure it wasn't particularly missed, but here it is. If for no one else, then for me. I'm not keeping a pregnancy journal (I tried and failed miserably) so these updates will be good for me to look back on later.

So I'm 18 weeks. Just two weeks shy of halfway. It's beginning to become apparent that I'm pregnant, even to people who don't know me. I've outgrown one of my pairs of maternity pants now. Not because I've gained weight on my hips or thighs, but because my hips have spread in preparation for birth. This works for me because I've always thought my lower body was too narrow in comparison to the rest of my body, so this is good!

I HAVE TO PEE ALL THE TIME! MOST ANNOYING THING EVER!!!

At first it was just the extra hormones that was causing it. Then Baby Snider got bigger and started putting pressure on my bladder. In addition, the amniotic fluid Baby Snider is floating in is completely replaced every 6 to 8 hours which adds to the fluid that needs to be expelled from my body. Night time is miserable. Last night I had to wake up and use the restroom three times.

My sleep is fragmented... but I need it so much! When Silas and I stay up past 11:30 or so I have to sleep all morning to get enough rest. If I have time I nap in the afternoon too. As Silas, my family, or any of my close friends could tell you, my general good mood completely disappears when I am tired. Suddenly I turn into a grumpy devil or sorts who is NOT pleasant to be around...

Also. I now waddle.

Maggie on the Rocks

2010-03-13T09:45:00.000-08:00

When people ask me if I hope the baby is a boy or a girl I generally tell them I think I'd like a boy.

But when I think about my sister Maggie I kinda hope that it's a girl.

Confessions of Chronic Complainer

2010-03-09T07:23:00.000-08:00

I am guilty of being a complete and total whiner. I complain about everything. And I do mean everything. I'm not saying it's a good thing. In fact, I think it's probably a very bad thing which I will demonstrate further on. But it's the truth, so I choose to state it in a very matter-of-fact manner.

What's more, you know how when you complain and some smartpants says to you "Come on, complaining isn't going to make you feel any better!"? Well, the truth is, complaining does make me feel better. It's like eating an entire jar of pickles in one sitting; which, I might add, I did yesterday. I WOULDN'T DO IT IF IT DIDN'T MAKE ME FEEL BETTER. There's just something about expressing dissatisfaction with a given circumstance that enables me to deal with it cheerfully thereafter.

Wanna know something else? Just because I complain about something does not necessarily mean that I want it to change immediately. Silas is not that way. If Silas complains about something it generally means he so upset about a situation that he plans to do something drastic in the next 15 minutes to rectify it. But with me, unless I'm curled up on the floor bawling my eyes out, the reality probably is that I don't really have that big of a problem with whatever I'm complaining about. The rule here is: It's not important till I've cried about it.

This rule, however, does not apply after midnight because after midnight I cry about everything. Example: The other night we were out rather late at a friend's house watching Arrested Development (a tv show for a whole 'nother post...) and when we got home I collapsed across the bed. Silas told me to roll over so he could get in bed and when I went to move I found that I couldn't roll over without great difficulty due to the Italian baby taking up residence in my abdomen. I began to cry. Poor Silas, totally taken aback by this sudden burst of emotion, asked what was wrong and I managed to tell him between sobs that "I'M A FREAKING WHALE!" Poor Silas. Luckily for him, he was able to contain the gales of laughter which were, I'm sure, welling up inside of him. End embarrassing story.

I don't really have a problem with the fact that I complain. Unfortunately, the Bible doesn't share my opinion. We are/I am told in Philippians 2 to "Do all things without complaining and disputing, that you may become blameless and harmless, children of God without fault in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world."

Ooooooo BURN! It's like the Bible just said "I'm going go kick Elisabeth's butt today, what little piece of scripture should I shove in her face? Oh! I know!"

I have no inspirational story about how I've overcome complaining because, frankly, I haven't managed it yet. It's a life long habit and I don't foresee it simply ending in one day. BUT. Next time I want to complain about something I'm just not going to. Baby steps. Tiny, tiny baby steps.

Night at the theatre; Jesus Christ Superstar

2010-03-08T14:01:00.000-08:00

Last night Silas took me to see Jesus Christ Superstar, a musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber. It was the first Broadway show I'd ever seen live, and this particular show was traveling with Ted Neeley who played Christ in the 1974 film version of the show, so it was a special treat! It was playing at the Benedum theatre, downtown, and the place is absolutely stunning. We sat in the very last row in the balcony and could still hear and see everything going on perfectly.

The show takes place during the week leading up to Jesus's crucifixion and is narrated, in large part, by the character of Judas. This adds and interesting twist as the literary device "Unreliable narrator", where the narrator lies to the audience, is employed most effectually in this show. Other interesting characters in the show are Mary Magdalene, Simon Peter, King Herod, Pilate, and Caiaphas. All played traditionally, and yet, not so traditionally.

One of my favorite scenes from the show is when the pharisees get together to decide "What shall we do about Jesus of Nazareth. Miracle wonderman, hero of fools." I'll share it with you:

As many times as I've heard and read the story of Jesus, which is really quite alot since I've grown up in a Christian home, I am always moved anew when confronted with the pure selflessness that Jesus showed to me by dying to save my soul. This selflessness and submitting to the will of the Father come through very strongly in this show.

Another theme that Jesus Christ Superstar brings up again and again is how no one seemed to understand what Jesus was trying to do. Judas, especially, is confused by Jesus's actions. He blames Jesus for his disillusionment with what he thought was going to be a great cause for the Jewish people. I was reminded again how God's ways are not my ways.

Overall the show takes a few liberties and it does not include the resurrection. It ends after Jesus's death, which is, of course incomplete. But at the same time I think that's just the part of the story that this show covers, as it also leaves out the greater part of his ministry. But I think there are also many redeeming qualities of the show.

Anyway, Silas and I had a great time and I left thinking about my Jesus's sacrifice for me and what I owe him in return.

At 16 Weeks

2010-03-03T19:35:00.000-08:00

I feel big and beautiful.

My hair is suddenly shiny. My face has become clear of zits. My skin glows. I understand now why people say that they love being pregnant. It makes sense. All that misery of the first trimester is a distant memory. I have energy again. My mood is completely stable. I feel happy most of the time. I love being pregnant.

Comfort has become my priority. I actually left the house today wearing leggings... like, instead of pants... I was agonized over this decision for about two seconds. Then I said what the heck. Silas was all "What would Blair Waldorf say!?!" and I was all "Blair Waldorf has never been pregnant and has therefore never been introduced to the wonderful thing that is maternity leggings!" (Just as an aside, TIGHTS ARE NOT PANTS! Leggings aren't really either, but I would say it's a much more debatable subject. Tights are out of the question.)

I had my second prenatal appointment yesterday with my lovely midwife, MeriBeth. We listened to the heartbeat again. We found it instantly this time, no searching around, begging for Baby Snider to come out of hiding. I was given a clean bill of health and told that Baby Snider and I are both very healthy and doing well.

I can feel my uterus, about halfway between my naval and my pubic bone. It's so hard! I suppose it makes sense since it's just one giant ball of muscle that is preparing to push Baby Snider out in a few months. But still. I wasn't expecting it to be so firm.

That's about all I have right now. But I'd just like to give a shout to apple cider vinegar. Not only did it clear up the horrible external yeast infection I was cursed with last week (TMI?), but it also makes my joints so much less achy!

Peace out!

Various Photos

2010-02-27T09:40:00.000-08:00

I'm having a really good time with my camera. I'm still getting used to the idea that I actually have it. I keep forgetting and I find myself going "I wish I had a nice camera. Oh wait! I DO!" Here's some things I've taken pictures of recently.

My Dad sent me these for Valentine's Day.

Clean glasses drying in my new and amazing dish drainer.

A chandelier at the The Sphinx, the hooka bar we went to the other night. I didn't actually take this picture. My camera was passed around alot that night and when I got home this picture was there. It could have been taken by any number of our friends.

I love taking pictures of people. Since I'm home by myself alot of the time, I take alot of pictures of myself. Not because I'm particularly vain. Just because I like faces and don't have any models to practice on.

I call this one "Preggo face".

And I call this one "In the Bathroom Mirror with a Blue Shower".

Things I miss.

2010-02-24T15:56:00.000-08:00

There are many things I don't miss about living at home. I will tell anyone who asks that I am infinitely more happy living with Silas, in our own little home, than I was when I lived with my parents. There are, however, a few things I miss.

I miss walking into the dining room to find Maggie smearing sour cream all over herself after she ate all her chips.

I miss Walter trying to fix his stubbed toe with a wrench.

I miss Maggie doing her "eyebrow thing" that I taught her.

I even miss Walter picking his nose.

This? Well. This I don't miss so much.

Six Month Anniversary

2010-02-23T06:03:00.000-08:00

It's been six months since I got married. ONLY SIX MONTHS. It seem like a lifetime. Already I can no longer remember what it was like to be by myself at parties, to sleep alone, or to be without someone to take care of me. What's more, I can't imagine life without Silas.

We're now expecting our first child and surveying the world of opportunities before us. I feel like anything could happen and that we could do anything.

Here's to many, many, many more months of joy and companionship.

The Bright Side

2010-02-22T09:21:00.000-08:00

Yesterday evening I popped in the shower. My perfectly lovely Sunday was marred by the fact that I tripped on the bus steps and fell down. All the way down. As in, laying on my side, my feet stretched all the way out behind me and my arms all the way out above my head. And I couldn't really, uh, move. Not because I was hurt all that badly, but because I, uh, was too fat, my boots were heavy, and the coat that I was all bundled up in made it difficult to move (though it provided excellent padding for the fall). Thankfully, I was helped up and I continued to my seat where I pretended to be fine. But I was embarrassed, shaken, in pain and as soon as we got home I sat down in our recliner and cried. I skinned my knee, the palm of my hand, and bruised my thigh.

My husband instructed me to go straight to bed so my body could work itself out and so that I could rest. My husband has lots of good ideas. This was definitely one of them. I woke up from my nap feeling much better and much less upset. My husband told me to go take a shower because I would feel even better after wards. Another one of my husband's capital ideas. (I love him!)

As soon as I got in the shower, however, I heard the toilet flush. Immediately my head popped out and my eyes commenced "evil wife glare". Silas immediately let go of the handle and the toilet stopped. You see, our toilet is kind of broken. You have to hold the handle down the whole time or it won't flush. Silas apologized "Oh, I'm sorry honey! I totally forgot! Fortunately, our toilet doesn't work." My glare melted away and I laughed "Fortunately."

And that, my friends is looking on the bright side! I highly suggest it. It makes one much happier, in general. And sometimes it ends in sitting in bed eating homemade hummus and homemade bread while your husband reads science fiction out loud to you.* (Did I mention I love my husband?)

A P.S. for those of you sweet blog readers who will probably inquire: I'm feeling better this morning. A little sore, but otherwise Baby Snider and I are doing just fine. I'm even considering taking the bus to Trader Joe's this afternoon! So you needn't worry about me :)

*Results not typical

Snowpocalypse!

2010-02-18T17:22:00.000-08:00

Here in Pittsburgh we've received record snowfall for the month of February. So far we're hedged in on all sides by more than 30 inches of snow. With several inches today and another six expected on Monday, we Pittsburghers a wee bit weary of the snow. Even the biggest snow enthusiests among us are beginning to gripe. THE SNOW JUST DOES NOT STOP! It snows pretty much all the time. The U of Pitt students are fondly referring to this plague as "Snowpocalypse". (Perhaps less fondly since they found out they get to make up their snow days on Saturdays. But that is neither here nor there.)

I've enjoyed the snow mostly, since it keeps snowing it's not melting. Melting snow is disgusting, especially in the city. And since Silas and I don't have a car, we don't have to worry about the hassle of digging it out, putting a chair in our parking spot, etc... I only fell in a snow pile once but began bawling immediately as my pants were instantly soaked and I realized that I was too fat to get up. You might think this extremely comical and I must admit that it is very funny to me now. But at the time it seemed like the worse thing that could possibly happen. Thankfully Silas was with me and lifted me out "as though I weighed no more than a dry leaf!" (I sincerely hope that my readership can name that movie.)

This is a lovely glob of ice that is currently stuck to my neighbor's downspout. I predict alot of business for gutter companies this spring.

This is the house across the street. They're already trying to repair the damage to their gutters, I saw the husband and wife outside yesterday with saws. The wife clearly had no idea what she was doing and the husband kept yelling at her to stop screwing everything up. It was hilarious. For me.

This is the view from my front steps. If you look you can see that it's actually snowing pretty steadily while I'm taking this picture. Isn't Bloomfield pretty!? I like the variety of houses on our street.

This is the view from my back porch. I can't walk on it because it's condemed. But I like to store garbage out there and secretly hope it will fall through the rotten wood onto our psychotic neighbors who live beneath us. I'm evil. I know. Also, note, there are MORE colorful houses.

Also taken from my back door. My neighbors' yards are a complete mess of snow.

While standing in the back doorway taking pictures, I happened to turn to look at the side of our neighbor's house and saw this window. I think it's beautiful.

If the snow keeps coming I'll keep taking pictures. Until then, stay warm and don't get hit by any stray buses. (Though my husband points out to me that you get a HUGE cash settlement if you get hit by a bus, so it might be worth sacrificing a limb or two. Don't listen to my husband, though. He's silly.)

Valentine's Day

2010-02-17T18:17:00.000-08:00

This was Silas and I's first Valentine's Day that we were able to spend together. I was really excited about this. Not because I expected flowers, chocolates, or presents. I didn't expect any of those things. But because I was terribly happy to just not be alone on Valentine's Day. All I expected was to spend a nice Sunday with my husband and our friends, as usual. I expected we'd probably eat somewhere nice (with friends) and I considered myself completely content to hold his hand during church. I got so much more than I expected.

The day before Valentine's Day Silas informed me that he had a secret errand to run. So he took the zipcar and picked up whatever it was he was after and he brought it home. In a white and silver polka dot bag covered in black and white polka dot tissue paper. I may or may not have teared up a little. Silas is a generous man, but he does not wrap presents. I've received many presents from Silas since our relationship began, all of them very wonderful; but none of them have ever been wrapped.

I gazed longingly at the wrapped package which he set prominently on the stereo cabinet. He smiled at me that mischievous Italian smile that makes me giggle on the inside and informed me that he ordered my present a couple weeks ago but it JUST came in this morning. I was shocked. He thought ahead WEEKS to order me a Valentine's Day present!?! I could hardly wait for the next morning.

Sunday morning Silas and I groggily rolled out of bed. We, neither of us, are morning people. So we did what we usually do when we're having trouble waking up. We went downstairs and collapsed on the couch. Then Silas went over to the stereo and brought me my package. Suddenly I was completely giddy.

Fabulous wrapping job? Check.

What? What! What!?!

I look up at Silas who is smirking. It occurs to me that this might be the cruelest joke he ever played.

I ask "Seriously!?" He smiles "Seriously." "Wait. Seriously!?!?!" "Yes, woman, seriously!"

Wait? AND photo editing software? Have I died and gone to heaven?

I look at this face and I want to kiss it all over.

Then I look at this. And I want to kiss it all over too.

Then I decide to go for the face. It was a good choice.

I began pulling everything out of the box and immediately began charging the battery, hoping against hope that it would charge before it's time to leave for church. That didn't happen. So we went to church and I held Silas's hand through he service, as expected. Then we went out for Indian food with Britt and I decided that naan is awesome, curry is still nasty, and Indian food is over rated.

Then we went to community group, after which everyone ordered Indian food. Again. My previous conclusions were confirmed. We watched the Olympics - couple's skating and moguls were on. I tried very hard to be calm and wait patiently till my camera and I could be reunited. And I enjoyed spending time with our friends despite my camera withdrawal.

We finally got home, very late indeed, and despite the lateness of the hour I proceeded to take a ton of pictures of everything. I'm sure my blog is soon to be flooded with picture awesomeness in huge quantities. So stick around!

My Stepdad asked me yesterday if my first married Valentine's Day was everything I hoped it would be, all those years that I was single. (Which seemed like an eternity at the time, but weren't THAT long, I suppose, since I married at 20.) And yes, yes it was. I love my husband and he loves me and we both love our baby. What's not perfect about that?

At 14 Weeks

2010-02-16T09:39:00.000-08:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am now roughly the size of a barge and Baby Snider is about the size of a lime. I think this is deceiving since I look like I'm carrying at least a grapefruit, if not an eggplant! The weight is getting to me a bit. I feel heavy. It's hard for me to stand up after I've been sitting down awhile and it's hard for me to go to sleep at night because every position I lie in makes one of my limbs fall asleep. Also, my face is fat. Which has nothing to do with falling alseep. I just don't like my face being fat.

Baby Snider's new favorite thing is to make Mama feel like her uterus and/or belly button is about to explode. I realize that my uterus has to stretch, because before Baby Snider took up residence there it was only about the size of a pear and by 14 weeks it's the size of a melon! But I didn't realize the stretch would be so painful. I avoid touching my belly button altogether.

But overall I've been feeling better. My mood has completely stabilized, much to my relief and that of my poor husband. Seriously, the craziness scared me. I still suffer from morning sickness a couple mornings a week, but for the most part I'm over it, which is really, really nice. The tiredness is also past, which is really, really, really nice!

I'm trying to make myself exercise because I'm out of shape from 3 months of laying on the couch and eating. But there's so much snow still that walking is very difficult. I have a t-tapp dvd, but I'm lazy. I need to get on the ball, I know, or I will regret it when it comes time to push this baby out in five months.

No more cravings. In fact, I don't even feel like eating most of the time, which is weird because I was constantly starving during the first trimester. I have to remind myself to eat and drink these days because it just doesn't occur to me most of the time. At the very beginning I was super excited about an excuse to eat meat all the time. But I must confess, I'm kind of meated out now. I just want to eat a huge plate of pasta with butter and salt on it!

That's all for now, folks!

I am a mutant, it turns out. No, I really am!

2010-02-12T10:04:00.000-08:00

Some of you *cough cough Ian* remarked on the shortness of my thumb in my earlier blog post where I described my accident with a chef's knife. I've always had extremely short thumbs compared to my peers, and originally I always assumed that this was just me growing slower than my friends. As I reached adulthood I noticed that, uh, my thumbs hadn't grown since I was 8 and no one in my family had thumbs like mine.

Recently, and partly due to the hype surrounding Megan Fox's superbowl ad, I've discovered that I actually suffer from a mild form of Dysmelia called Brachydactyly. Sometimes referred to as clubbed thumbs, this condition is caused by loss of genetic information or a mutated gene and is pretty much harmless.

It's not painful and the only time it causes me trouble is when playing piano (I can only reach one octave, thumb to pinky) and playing guitar (bar chords are difficult, though manageable). Sometimes it's also difficult for me to take the safety off of a pistol when I go shooting, but again, with practice I can get around it.

I know a couple other people who have one clubbed thumb and one normal thumb. Personally, I'm glad that I have two so's they match. And they make my hands feel petite... which is nice considering the rest of me could never really be described that way.

Megan Fox.

Me, trying to be all Megan Foxy but turning out looking all Elisabeth Snidery.

Also, I realize my face looks all poochy in these pictures. It's just cause I have preggo face. It's my Italian Baby's fault.

Italian Envy + Food

2010-02-11T10:56:00.000-08:00

So, for many years now I have desperately wanted to be Italian. Desperately. I love the language. I love the dark eyes and hair. And I love the food. I adore the food. I want to clasp Italian food to my bosom in a loving and endless embrace! Oh cibo italiano! Si rendere il mondo un luogo di bellezza e meraviglia!

After coming to the realization that I shall never be Italian, I did the only thing a girl in my position could do. I married and Italian and made an Italian baby. I can't wait to meet my adorable Italian baby. And just look at my handsome Italian husband!

Ahem. The point of this post is not to gush about my husband, how awesome he is, how well he cooks, how we're coming up on our 6 month anniversary, how he brought me home fast food the other night when I was in bed with a sinus headache, how he buys me chocolate and double stuffed oreos just cause he knows I like them, or how he doesn't get upset with me when I fall behind with my house work. No. The purpose of this post is to talk about the amazing Italian food I made last night.

Firstly focaccia. Olive and garlic focaccia.

My Italian husband scolded me for forgetting that he doesn't like olives. First I told him he was a rotten Italian.

Then I promised that next time I would make it without olives. For him. I would still make Olive focaccia for me. Because it's amazing.

Plus, I made baked polenta with onions and cheese for him.

I don't really like polenta much. It's too grainy and corny for me. But Silas loves it (Proof that even if he is a rotten Italian, he is one, nonetheless.) and could eat it 5 times a week without getting sick of it. And, I mean, this really is the bestest way to eat polenta, even I will admit.

This is a special kind of spaghetti. The name of the sauce is "Spaghetti Without Meat" sauce and it's a Snider family recipe. I don't even know what goes in it, for sure. But I think it has tomato sauce, mayonnaise and soy sauce in it, for starters. My husband made a big batch of it earlier this weekend while we were snowed in.

But, as you can probably see, when I pulled it out to use it last night I put meat in it (and mushrooms) which might make Silas's Mama rather horrified. But I know she'll forgive me because I have to get all my protein in to make sure my Italian baby grows up big and strong and bearded like his papa! (This week, I'm convinced it's a boy.)

So this is what my delicious Italian meal looked like. I was planning on making molten chocolate lava cakes too, but Silas and I were so full after devouring this feast of food that we decided to watch Little Miss Sunshine and go to bed without cake. Another time. I promise.

Silas took the whole casserole dish of leftover polenta to work for lunch today instead of the leftover spaghetti. Which I think is hilarious. Because if it were me I would want meat in my lunch. Thus, MY lunch consisted of an amazing sandwich on the heavenly olive focaccia.

Addio per ora i miei amici belli!

Preggo Dreams

2010-02-04T05:55:00.000-08:00

Ok, so, here's the thing. This blog has always been filled, since its inception, with absurdities from my life. When I lived at home it was filled with my little siblings, after I got married it was filled with my husband, and now it's filled with lots of pregnancy weirdness. I make no apologies.

I've always been a vivid dreamer. To this day I can still remember a few nightmares from my childhood that were very real to me and haunted me for months. Thankfully, as I got older I rarely had nightmares, but I still had dreams which often fooled me into believing that they were reality. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and roll over to look at my journal to make sure I wasn't operating under the assumption that something I dreamed had actually happened.

When I got pregnant my dreams became even MORE real. At first I only had pregnant nightmares, which were horrible. I think they were probably based in the huge amounts of fear I harbored during the first part of my pregnancy. But I've been letting go of those fears more and more lately and as I've done that I've found that I continue to have baby dreams - but now they are happy baby dreams. And what's more... some of the are totally hilarious.

A couple weeks ago I dreamt that I gave birth to a boy. He was chubby, naked and all blue (like all babies are when they first come out) and I birthed him standing up. His head was perfectly round. He started crying and we named him Gideon. And you know what - I actually felt the joy that I think most mothers talk about when they describe holding their baby for the first time. I woke up feeling really happy and excited and wanting to hold my baby RIGHT NOW. Also, I was convinced Baby Snider was a boy.

Then, last week, I had a hilarious dream. I dreamt that I gave birth, in a birth pool, in my grandmother's living room, to a girl this time. Except, instead of being a newborn, she was a year old and wearing a pink shirt and pink and green striped pants. And know what else? She was fully conversive. In fact, she told me, as she climbed out of the pool (perfectly dry) to play with some toy ponies on a chair, that she wished to be named Amy.

I told her no. "I don't feel like any of my children should be named 'Amy'." She just looked at me like my intelligence was very lacking, like I couldn't possibly be her mother because I wasn't smart enough. "But" I continued "You could be named Abigail and I could call you Abby. Would that be satisfactory?" She paused for a moment and then told me that yes, she thought that would be just fine and then she returned to her ponies and I went back to baking bread (in my grandmother's kitchen). Also, I woke up convinced Baby Snider was a girl.

Oh, God, you have made life beautiful with the ridiculous. I praise you for your care of my sense of humor!

Also, something that warmed my heart: Ellie informs me that Peter, my little brother-in-law prayed for me last night during family worship and he prayed "Dear God, please help Elisabeth's baby to come soon and help it not to hurt very much, Amen." Peter, from your mouth to God's ears.

I like the way those Snider boys pray.

At 12 Weeks

2010-02-02T06:47:00.000-08:00

I was able to hear Baby Snider's heartbeat today! We could hear Baby Snider moving on the doplar but the midwife was having trouble finding the heartbeat. I told Baby Snider "It's ok to come out of hiding, Mommy just wants to hear your heart." And eventually we found the heart beat. So precious! It was fast, but not as fast as I expected from what other people had told me. It was so funny think "This is my baby that I get to hold in a few months!"

Our midwife also showed me how to feel where my uterus was. It's just peeking over the top of my pelvic bone now. This also means I'm getting bigger and I'm not going to stop growing anytime soon; over the next month Baby Snider will quadruple in size!

I've been feeling a whole lot better as I transition into my second trimester. (I'm 1/3 done baking this baby!) Something funny I've noticed; that my sneezes have become truly epic! I'm not sure why, but over the past few weeks I've noticed that whenever I sneeze there is a tremendous amount of force behind them! A circumstance I happen to find hilarious.

Silas bought me some lemons for me to eat to help with the morning sickness, which is mostly gone now, but sometimes makes an appearance when I first get up, or when I forget to take my prenatal vitamin. He bought me this kind I had never seen before called Meyer Lemons. They looks like little oranges and they taste like sweetish lemons. Basically they're amazing. How did I live without them before? I know not. I know not.

A couple people have asked me if I have had any weird cravings, and I can't really say I've had that many. I've had cravings that are unusual for me, such as oreos, which I never was a big fan of before this pregnancy; there's peach yogurt, which I also never liked before this pregnancy. And for some reason it occurred to me that bananas would be amazing on top of pizza - but I never tried it because Silas and Britt wouldn't let me.

There was also the incident with the jar of salsa con queso. I was eating it with chips, out of the jar and I ran out of chips. I considered finish it off with a spoon, but instead I used a couple oreos. Silas was thoroughly disgusted and, I think, regretted buying me both the dip and the oreos, but hey, it was yummy.

Silas is just great about everything. When I'm feeling bad he brings me things home from the store. When my back is hurting he rubs it till it feels better (Seriously, the dude should have been an osteopath). He's like magic. He even made me dinner twice this week! I can't say enough good things about that man.

Here's what my baby belly looks like as of now:

Stayed tuned for the next Bi-weekly Pregnancy Update at 14 weeks!

I wrote my first computer program.

2010-01-30T10:16:00.000-08:00

And this is what it does. A button appears, like so:

Then you push the button and a new window opens that says this:

The name of my program is "Immaturity" and I am ridiculously proud of my achievement.

My husband, however, scoffs and says "There are no images, amateur." Which leads me to break out into a stylized rendition of "Just you wait, Henry, Higgins" which goes something like:

"Just you wait, Silas Snider, just you wait!
You'll make me brownies but you pleas will be too late!
You'll be broke and I'll have money
because MY programming's funny!"

Anyways. I'm proud of me.

The Honeymoon Mustard is Gone!

2010-01-26T18:18:00.000-08:00

This title probably requires a little bit of explanation, but not much. This is no metaphor. I mean, quite simply, the bottle of mustard that we bought on our honeymoon is gone. Today I went to make the amazing better-than-subway sandwich I've been making every day for the past week (it's my newest craving) and I used the very last bit of the honeymoon mustard. And it made me sad. Let me tell you why.

When Silas and I got married we had no money. I don't mean we had a little money. I mean we had no money. Silas had just finished his last month of Ameri-corp and didn't have a job yet. He had his last Ameri-corp check mailed to Oregon, but none of the banks would cash it since he didn't belong to any west coast banks so we had no source of money until we got back to Pittsburgh. We paid for the rental truck but had no money for gas or hotels or food. The morning of the wedding we had about 20 dollars to our collective names. But God provided for us.

Through the generosity for friends and family all of our needs were met and without us even having to ask. The morning after the wedding we went to the store and bought a Styrofoam cooler and all the makings for sandwiches. And that's what we ate everyday for lunch, and a couple times for dinner, for our entire 10 day road trip. I never got sick of it and every time I ate a sandwich I was was thankful that God had so wonderfully provided for Silas and I.

It's been over 5 months since then. Silas got a marvelous job two weeks after we arrived in Pittsburgh he now has lots of opportunities ahead of him. God has blessed us with innumerable blessings and I was reminded of that as I threw away the empty bottle of honeymoon mustard. I was a little sad because I really enjoyed the adventure that was our honeymoon and I'm sad that it's over.

But then I was also encouraged, because I know that our road trip was just the beginning of our adventure. We'll have more over the years and we'll continue to see God's goodness in our lives as we watch him provide for us. I'm so glad I get to have this adventure and I'm so glad I'm sharing it with Silas.

To Whom It May Concern (Namely, everyone I've talked to in the last two months.)

2010-01-22T07:48:00.000-08:00

To full appreciate this you must imagine this letter being read with a very British accent i.e. Emma Thompson.

Dear World,

My recent gravidity has caused me to behave in ways I am less than proud of. My Mother, however, always taught me to take responsibility for my actions, whatever the cause. So I write this as an apology to my husband, my friends, random strangers on the street, and to the lovely people who read my blog and who have had the misfortune of experiencing my grumpy and generally horrible manners over the past few months.

I am now feeling much, much better and am ready to take on the world with my former patience and cheerfulness. To my husband: I would like to promise lots of tasty treats to make up for the endless weeks of craziness from me. I realize that's A LOT of cookies, but I shall endeavor to do so, regardless. To my friends: I am ready to leave my house once more and look forward to seeing you out, about and at parties at my house. To random people on the street: Your fly is unzipped. To my blog readers: I promise that I shall again be capable of blog posts that do not include complaining about the injustices perpetrated toward me by the child in my womb.

With love and cupcakes,
Elisabeth

My Husband is Cute

2010-01-21T08:01:00.000-08:00

Me: You left something important at home today.
Silas: I did?
Me: Yes.
Silas: What?
Me: Look down at your hands.
Silas: I left that at home?
Me: Yes, yes you did.
Silas: Yay!!!
Me: What?
Silas: I was afraid I lost it on the bus.

The Snider Family at 10 Weeks

2010-01-18T13:47:00.000-08:00

What's going on with Baby Snider:
Right now Baby Snider is about the size of a strawberry. In scientific terms, Baby Snider is no longer an "embryo" but a "fetus"and now looks much less like an alien and much more like the tiny person that Mama and Daddy Snider will get to meet in 7 months. Baby Snider has little teeth forming in his or her mouth and there are precious little finger prints on Baby Snider's tiny hands. Right now Baby Snider looks something like this:

What's going on with Mama Snider:
Right now Mama Snider continues to feel not so great. She's been feeling a little less tired but much sicker. She can't wait to get to the second trimester, only 4 more weeks till the morning sickness and exhaustion fade into a distant memory. Time seems to be going fast. Ten weeks gone already! A full 1/4 done with the baby baking. Mama Snider's body is happy to be pregnant, though, and has already blossomed a very, very large baby bump. Right now Mama Snider looks like this:

What's going on with Daddy Snider:
Right now Daddy Snider continues his usual routine of working at Showclix with the addition of spending a little extra time rubbing Mama Snider's back and telling her not to be so grumpy. He recently bought the family an xbox and is thoroughly enjoying his purchase. On Friday he's flying to New York to interview at Google and he's very excited about seeing the Googleplex there. He's also enjoying his last few months of having long hair since he's shaving his head this Spring and donating it Locks of Love. Right now Daddy Snider looks something like this:

Confessions of a Headband Hater

2010-01-14T10:56:00.000-08:00

You know when you say that you hate something and your sister-in-law tells you you're just jealous? Sometimes your sister-in-law is right.

Here's the truth. I love headbands. LOVE THEM. I love headbands with bows. I love headbands with flowers. I love headbands with feathers. I even love headbands with with shiny blingy stuff on them! Deep inside me there is a Blair Waldorf just begging to claw her way to the surface and satisfy her need for headbands in every size, shape, color and design!

Here is more of the truth. I cannot wear headbands. Put one on my head for more than 2 minutes and I have a splitting headache that will not go away and if left untended will quickly turn into a raging beast capable of sacking Carthage single handedly! Yes, I have what is commonly referred to as a sensitive head. Which makes no sense because I can wear scarves (which sometimes are almost as cute as headbands.) with no problem. But pop a headband on me and I'm destined to cry.

Here is even more more truth, if you can handle it. I am ridiculously jealous whenever I see someone wearing a cute headband. Yes, yes that does mean you, Natalie. And you, Elizabeth. And especially you, Remy and Christina! You all disgust me with your cuteness that I am unable to attain! Oh yes, guilty of one of the deadly sins, right here.

Here is even more more more truth. I want boys. From my body, I mean, I want to have seven sons. I like boys. I think they're pretty easy going. They break things - yes. They hurt themselves and others - yes. They run around screaming and pretending to be Indians/monsters/soldiers/zombies - yes. But they will (hopefully) be relatively drama and emotion free. Oh yes. I like boys. But I want just three girls so I can live vicariously through them and turn them into little headband wearing Blairs.

The end.

The Evening and the Morning

2010-01-13T08:21:00.000-08:00

Disclosure: This blog post is full of complaining. Not I-hate-my-life complaining. Not even I-wish-this-would-change complaining. Just I-feel-better-when-I-laugh-about-things-that-happen-to-me complaining. It's all about finding the humor. Carry on.

I was tired and ready to go to bed at 9:30 last night. I didn't go to bed until 2:30 this morning.

Last night I climbed the stairs to my bed fully intending to fall asleep within the next 30 minutes. I usually talk to Silas while I fall asleep - but he was out with friends so I brought a couple pregnancy books up with me so I could read myself to sleep. I got really absorbed in this one book and I soon realized I had been reading it for over an hour and I was falling asleep. Perfect, I thought, just what I had intended. And I got up to turn off the light.

No sooner had I crawled back into bed and swathed myself in my big soft comforter than I realized Oh crap! I have to pee. If this is TMI for you I highly suggest you not read my blog over the next nine months, as I really do think that this phenomenon of me-having-to-pee-and-then-telling-you-about-it is going to stop any time in the near future.

Now, there are four stages of having-to-pee-in-the-middle-of-the-night. The first is realization. It is usually accompanied by expletives and a profound desire to either kill yourself or wet the bed. The second is denial. This is when you tell yourself you're just paranoid and you definitely do NOT have to pee. You are a human! You can control your urges! You can wait until the morning! Sadly, the third stage usually doesn't take place until about 20 minutes after the first stage. This is acceptance. And it usually happens when you finally come to the conclusion that you simply cannot go to sleep while containing lake Erie inside your body and that raging storm inside you must be quieted. The fourth stage is hate. Hate yourself for not getting up 20 minutes sooner. Hate the air for being so cold. Hate the stairs for trying to kill you. Hate the light in the bathroom. Hate the toilet seat for being so freaking cold. Hate the neighbors, who seem to be having a good time downstairs, for not being as tired/miserable as you are. Hate the stairs again.

Anyway, all that happened at 11:00. Start to finish that takes about 30 minutes. So by 11:30 I was tucked away in my bed again. It took awhile to get back in sleep mode but it finally happened and I began to slip out of conciseness... and then my husband got home. Our stairs are really loud. I don't think I realized till last night just how loud they were! Don't listen, I told myself, stay asleep... slip back into happy oblivion! I knew I could do this. Just stay asleep until Silas comes up. Ok. Hmmm. Ladadadada. I wonder how long it will take him. NOOOOOO! GO BACK TO SLEEP SELF! I ORDER YOU! Crap, I'm waking up. No, no, I'm awake.

"You're home sooner than I expected." I wonder if he can hear me downstairs. "Yep." Contact established. "Are you coming up soon?" I'm fully awake now and want to unload everything I learned from the book I was reading that has been in the back for my mind this whole time. "Yep." Good, good, this won't be so bad. Twenty minutes later "Are you coming up?" "Yep." Ten minutes later I go down stairs "Why did you get up! You look like you just woke up! You should have stayed asleep. I'll be right up!" I laugh "Oh, honey, I have NOT gone to sleep yet." Ten more minutes down stairs while Silas finishes a project.

Finally about 12:30 we head up to bed. I'm all excited to talk - Silas clearly wants to go straight to sleep. Bickering over whether we should talk or whether we should sleep ensues. Silas wins and goes to sleep. It is now well past 1 AM.

I realize I'm thirsty. Really thirsty. Begin the four steps of I'm-thirsty-in-the-middle-of-the-night which are pretty much the same as the four steps of having-to-pee-in-the-middle-of-the-night. Except for some reason I never made it back to bed. I got side tracked and spent an hour on the couch checking facebook, blogs, and generally wasting time. I finally feel sleepy and head up to bed. Again.

I would like to say that at this point I finally went to sleep and proceeded to get a good 9 hours of sleep. But something horrible happened. As soon as I started to fall asleep my tummy grumbled. AHHHHH! NOOOO!!!! THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING TO ME! I completely skip step 3 of being-starving-in-the-middle-of-the-night because there is absolutely no denying that my stomach just yelled at me. And if I force myself to go back to sleep (I've done it before.) I am going to be violently ill in the morning from letting my blood sugar drop too low.

(See, I have this baby inside me that sucks all the nutrients from my body so I have to eat more often to keep my blood sugar up so I don't puke, pass out, or pass out in my puke.)

So, I resist the urge to wake my poor, exhausted husband up and make him bring me food and I drag my butt out of bed for the umteenth time in 4 hours. I want a banana. Of course I ate the last banana the previous afternoon. I look in the fridge. I just want something light. Penne and chicken in vodka sauce. Nice. Not light. Rice and poppyseed chicken. Nice. Not light. Bowl of homemade frosting. Nice. Definitely not light. Cup of yogurt. Perfect.

I curl up on the couch to eat my yogurt. I wrap myself in a blanket and proceed to open up my laptop. Stalk my friends... and my friend's friends on facebook. Complain to the Internets that I'm not asleep. Finish my yogurt. GO TO BED. Yes. Really. I honestly went to bed. Finally.

Only to be woken by my husband at some ridiculously early hour. He overslept and was late for work because I had kept him up arguing last night and now he needed me to drive him to work then return the zipcar. No time for shower. No time for eating. Just time for driving. I did however, avail myself of the opportunity of having him trapped in a car with me for fifteen minutes and unloaded everything about the book I wanted to tell him last night

I'm home now. I'm tired. I need to do laundry because Silas has no more clean clothes. But I'm going to bed instead because I simply cannot do laundry in this state. That is all. Goodnight/morning/afternoon/Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa, Martin Luther King Jr. Day/ect...

At 8 Weeks

2010-01-08T06:16:00.000-08:00

The Cons

I am tired, ridiculously tired, all the time. I go to bed exhausted. I wake up in the morning wanting to take a nap on the couch, an urge which I frequently yield to. Even going up the stairs makes me want to haul out a sleeping bag and collapse on the floor!

I've learned that I need to restrict myself to one outing a day or face reality of being an overly tired pregnant person who lacks mood stability.

This child is sapping me of all energy and it's not even born yet!

I feel sick unless I'm shoving food down my throat. Best cure for morning sickness I ever heard of. In addition to the bagels and cream cheese cravings I am now also desiring red popsicles with a passion that can only be described as single-minded.

Last week it was fudgesicles. I ate the whole box, pretty much by myself. I even resorted to eating them when Silas wasn't around so he wouldn't ask me for one so there would be more for me!

I'm not particularly proud of that fact.

My back hurts, my neck hurts, my head hurts.

Last week Silas rolled over at 7 AM to rub my back because I was complaining about it.

SEVEN AM! I think he loves me.

I'm itching. All over my body and it's horrible. I have to take my clothes off and apply lotion twice a day.

And there aren't even mosquitoes involved.

I cry about anything and everything at the drop of a hat. My poor husband.

When I apologized about the mood craziness last night he said "It's ok. I love you. And I knew what I was getting into. *pause* Well, actually, I didn't. But it's still ok, honey."

Isn't he the sweetest! That pretty much makes me want to start bawling right now.

I love my husband.

The Pros

In eight months I'm going to have a little Snider baby.

And all in all I'd say the Pros far outweigh the Cons.

Silliness With Jason

2010-01-07T05:09:00.000-08:00

For New Year's Silas and I drove up to Iowa to visit my family there. It was a whirlwind of a trip; we left on Thursday and were back by Sunday. But it was really nice to see everyone, especially Jason, who I hadn't seen since his bone marrow transplant in the Fall. Here are some silly picture we took during our visit. I love the Photo Booth on my mac and I love this little boy!

If you want to take a few seconds to pray for Jason's continuing recovery that would be great, as his family received some confusing test results this week. The numbers could mean nothing or they could mean some not so nice things. Thanks :)

Peace out.