My child will not be named after a well-known action hero.

Ahh, choosing a name. It can be a fun, exciting chance for expectant parents to bond or it can be a freaking nightmare, depending on who your husband is. I’ll give you one guess as to how splendid this experience has been so far.


Agreeing on a name for this baby has been a tedious process for Justin and I.  It was pretty easy for us to settle on Madeline, being that I had it chosen for my future daughter since I was 15 and was never going to change my mind, so help me God we both absolutely loved it right off the bat. This time around, he’s not been so cooperative. (Shoot.)

The man is more than just picky.  If he had a legitimate reason to rule out a name that’d be fine, but he’ll come up with these super ridiculous name associations as reasons why the would never work for a child of ours. They’re not even real reasons, they’re just… I don’t even know. Feel my pain as you read ACTUAL excuses he’s given me:

Amelia – “It just makes me think of a World War I plane.” You mean like Amelia Earhart?

Pearl – “Sounds like an old woman who smells like mothballs and shops at Penny’s.” My Great-Aunt Pearlie doesn’t smell like mothballs. I’ll have to confirm the JCPenny thing though…

Elijah – “It’s just because you want to call him Eli, isn’t it? No.” BUT IT’S CUUUUUTE!

Liam – “Prime rib.” …Really????

He doesn’t really contribute any ideas, he just disagrees in a really annoying way. I can’t work like this. All Justin knows is that he wants our kid to have a badass name. If this baby is a boy, he is going to fight me tooth and nail to have his middle name be “Danger” just so he will be able to say “My middle name is Danger.”  Aaaaand you think I’m joking.

As of right now, this baby is being referred to as Jack Bauer Bruce Wayne Schwarzenegger Danger Gable. It… it just doesn’t have the classic sound I’m aiming for.

I’ll keep you posted on any new developments. Prayers are welcome.

Baby #2 – Thirteen Weeks


As an onlooker, I’m sure the past few months have seemed to fly by, but I am confident to say there’s never been a time in my life that has gone by as slowly as the first trimester of my pregnancies. Here are a few reasons why.

  1. You don’t really look pregnant, and people are still sort of afraid to comment on your belly because it could just be the result of eating too many rainbow chip cupcakes.
  2. Poop is a foreign term. It’s sad… I look upon Maddie with such bowel jealousy.
  3. You’re pretty much feel like you are the most fragile person in the history of the universe, and the slightest bit of jostling will -OMGz!- hurt your baby. This makes you constantly anxious.


A few weeks ago I was walking in the Target parking lot and a lady whizzed by me in her car. Okay okay. She was going like 4 mph, but she was too close to me and my unborn so it made me stupid-nervous. I shot her the most evil look of death I could muster, jumped to the side of the aisle and threw my arms up with the most ridiculous, exaggerated movement you could imagine.  She didn’t even notice my tantrum. Bah! So much effort for nothing!

BUTBUTBUT, this magical thing called the 2nd trimester is supposed to bring some equally magical things with it. Like energy! And appetite! Baby kicks! A healthy glow! And the best of all… Mama Fat!

I’m ready. Bring it, baby Gable. BRING IT.

The Men of my {Pregnant} Dreams

Last night I had a dream I was driving behind the slowest person in all of humanity. I rode this car’s tail and was becoming all hulkish and crazy-anxious to get to my shopping destination.

All of a sudden, the car stopped and a man stepped out. With both hands in his pockets, he casually strolled back toward my car and stood right at my window. Cocky jerk. I couldn’t see his face, but as I rolled down the window I was fully prepared to rip him a new one. Road rage, much?

The mystery driver bent down, looked through the window and stared straight into my eyes…

Andy Samberg??? Oh. Umm… Okay?

Andy smiled and I immediately melted like butter (???). He politely asked if I’d like to go get a slice of pizza with him (???). Just as I was about to say the words, “Yes! Take me to pizza and then let’s ride on a white horse off into the sunset together”, I woke up.

I seriously don’t know what the deal is with my crazy pregnant dreams. They almost always star a somewhat strange and quirky actor, none of which I find attractive or sexy in any way. I have no clue why they keep popping into my dreams like this. And a slice of pizza? Is THAT the true way to my heart?

Skeet Ulrich… Andy Samberg…  Where is Jason Statham when I need him?

(If you see Jason, tell him he’s welcome to pop into my dreams any night he wants. And that I prefer Chinese takeout over pizza.)

Baby #2 – Twelve Weeks

I hit the 12 week mark last Saturday, which basically means I was able to start breathing again for the first time in 3 months. They say you’re supposed to be in somewhat of a safe zone after you make it to 12 weeks, so I’ve pretty much been fist pumping my way through the first half of this week. Huuuuge sigh of relief.

(I promise I’m normally quite jolly and do smile with my teeth on occasion.)

So yes, I was feeling great until yesterday morning. I went to the bathroom and —MEN, LOOK AWAY NOW— I noticed I was having a little bit of a bleeding problem. HELLO. Cue the pregnant woman hysterics. And this happened, seriously, 10 minutes after I posted this little bit of joy on Twitter:

I knew I wasn’t imagining those flutters, but what perfect timing mother nature has, right? I was a confused, terrified, blubbering mess, wondering if those were the first and last little movements I’d ever feel from this baby. So. Many. Tears.

My nurse was able to get me in a few hours later, did a check up of my lady business and said everything looked pretty normal, but that I do need to be taking it easy for a while. That’s all I will say for fear of making you all gag and run for the hills, but just know I’m fine.

She also listened for the baby’s heartbeat and COULDN’T FREAKING FIND IT, so naturally, there was more crying. I was sent to get an ultrasound, which normally means !!!!!!!!!BABY!!!!!!!!!!!, but this time was more like …!?…!????:(

I held my breath as the ultrasound tech started working, and again, started crying when I saw this sweet thing do a big jump:

Baby #2 is just fine. Thank God.

Baby #2 – Eleven Weeks

First things first. A few weeks back I wrote a post about angry pregnant women wanting to kill you. A little harsh. I think I may have angered some pregnant women and also terrified the rest of you in the process. I PROMISE on my shoe collection that I will never harm a hair on your pretty little heads if you say anything about my baby/pregnancy/gas belly (because again, we know that all it really is at this point). It was all in fun, but I still want to say I’m sorry to the nice pregnant ladies and to everyone else who may be hiding from me under their couches at this very moment. xo

Now let’s get to business.

I  have an ultrasound today and there’s a possibility I may see a penis nub. You know how much this concerns me. Still, I’m really excited about being able to see the baby again because last time I was only able to get 2 ultrasounds the entire pregnancy and it was really disappointing. Pregnant ladies love their ultrasounds. It’s true.

Symptoms this week:

  • More barfing. Actually, I should be clear about this… it’s not actual throwing up and more like just a chronic case of the dry heaves, which I fully believe was something conjured up by an evil witch doctor who lives in the swamps. There’s no satisfaction of a job well done or even a flush! Just a lot of disturbing sounds coming out of your mouth.
  • Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad skin.
  • Ravenous hunger and odd cravings. Most people know I’m weird about my meats. Like, I basically only eat white meat chicken after it’s been dissected and I know for sure it has nothing questionable in it. I found a vein once and… let’s just not discuss my reaction. Anyway, I’ve been craving roast beef. I DON’T DO BEEF.
  • Sexy dreams involving ugly actors I am in no way attracted to in a conscious state. I’ve been debating on whether to take you all there and I’m not quite sure I (or my family who reads my blog) would be all that comfortable with it, so for now I’ll just leave it to your imagination. (Skeet Ulrich. JUST NO.)
  • I love you, Justin.