I am rapidly approaching the phase in my pregnancy where I ban all pictures. After a particularly bad picture (it must have been the clothes I was wearing. It must have) at the Jazz game we went to in January, it was almost time to curse the camera and stop looking in mirrors. But upon closer inspection I really believe that I'm not quite there yet. So here's some pictures.
Mike and I went with a bunch of friends to the Collective Soul concert in Salt Lake. That's Ed in the background. I love Collective Soul's music. We had a great time making fun of the opening bands (NAAAAAAAAAA-TURE!, sang one guy who was a little drunk and not on key) and staying up much later than we (I) usually do. I was telling my little sister that CS didn't even finish playing until MIDNIGHT. She laughed at me. She is still young and hip and midnight is nothing to her.
Here we are at Hardware Ranch. The highlight of this trip was Mike and Dave swearing they spotted Lyle of "Over there in that pigpen, I found a couple of Shoshoni arrowheads," Napoleon Dynamite fame. The elk were cool too.
This is the picture that made me almost swear off pictures for the next what? 5 months. But Mike looks good, and we're at the Jazz game that Dave and Summer bought us tickets to for Christmas. Two large public events in one month. I think this is a record for us. (Thanks Dave and Summer! It was a blast.)
Here are the swimsuit modelettes helping their Uncle Scott in the Mr. Fremont pageant. They were so excited to wear their swimsuits they kept them on all day and spent the rest of the day re-enacting their stage debut by standing on the piano bench.
And that's what we've been doing this smoggy and inversion-filled January.
In other news, yesterday my midwife committed the most egregious sin--she moved my due date back. If I were a midwife/doctor, I would overestimate all of my patients' due dates by two weeks. That way they can bless me when they go early every time or when I say, "Well due to the measurements of our extremely accurate ultrasounds and my expertise in belly reading, I'm changing your due date to two weeks earlier."
I will say this when my patients are in their third trimester, their veins are popping out trying to pump blood to their hearts, they can barely walk, none of their clothes fit and they are thinking, "For the love of everything holy! Please get this baby into the world." I believe I will be a very popular person.
What am I saying? It's still too early to even be thinking about due dates. Especially if I'm pretending I'm not pregnant. My due date is rainstorms, flowers, spring and the beginning of summer far away.
Now I'm officially depressed.