The three of us spent last week in Salt Lake, and by “the three of us,” I mean myself, Wombat, and The Belly, which at 28 weeks yesterday is busting forth in full third-trimester shamelessness. (I cannot believe we’re at the third trimester already. I CANNOT BELIEVE IT.)
We went on a preschool tour a few weeks ago and at the end of the hour we mentioned the new baby coming in July and the administrator lady’s reaction was, “Oh? Wow! How great! Congratulations!” My outward reaction was one of appropriate gratitude for her kind thoughts and well wishes, but inside I was like, “COME ON.” Now, I know you can never be too cautious with this stuff, and it’s almost never safe to assume, but when the pregnant woman in question confirms what most seeing people would have to admit was already an obvious suspicion, you don’t really need to act surprised. I mean, thanks, I guess, but really, I’m pretty sure we all know what’s going on here.
Our next door neighbor saw me grunt my way out of the car yesterday post glucose test (yay) and noticed for the first time that I was pregnant again (I think because I’ve been wearing coats and jackets for the last six months?). “I see you made her swallow another watermelon seed,” she said to Simon in her particular drawl. I love her.
Simon likes to say to pretty much everyone, “Oh, she’s not pregnant, she’s just a fat piece of crap,” and the only way he can get away with that is because he is THE most kind, respectful, attentive expectant husband and practically waits on me hand and foot–even without my asking, and even when I’m not pregnant. The only problem with this trade-off is that strangers don’t really know that side of him, or that he is 75 percent sarcastic across the board, and so they tend to react with visible horror when he says to me in line at the burrito place, for instance, “Enchiladas again, fatty?” with a completely straight face. I love him too.
That said, he has his…dim moments. A few weeks ago he asked if I needed help putting on my shoes, and when I graciously accepted such a sweet offer, he painstakingly untied them and loosened the laces and then…set them down on the floor in front of me and walked away. Uh…that wasn’t the part I needed help with, but thanks?
Other pregnancy updates, since it feels overdue:
YouI know you’reI’m pregnant when: youI want to order free mulch delivery, even though the last load of mulch, delivered two weeks before Wombat was born, took THREE YEARS to clear off the driveway. And yet…I really think we need some mulch.
–How many times am I getting up to pee at night? Once…a month. It’s pretty awesome, and that’s all I have to say about that.
–I’m not the type who can name a baby I haven’t actually seen (although I get why some people do it), and a few weeks ago I suggested sort of offhandedly an ex-utero name for Mompth (we’ve finally convinced Wombat that an alternate name is a good thing; he has suggested “Lorax”), and Simon’s response was, “Yes. That’s it. It’s great. Done!” With still three months to go, I’m not yet ready to commit, but I can say that thinking about this kid as X instead of “Mompth” feels as significant an event as finding out the sex. All of a sudden, it’s not Generic Baby Boy anymore starfishing against my internal organs, it’s [probably] X. [Probably] X! My son!
–Simon still razzes me about the time I was pregnant with W and my usual longwinded babble of nonsense sleeptalking took a turn for the brief and clear with a single word: “baby.” Wombat’s a sleeptalker (and -walker) too, and a while back Simon picked out, in one string of his mumbles, this: “baby brother.” Aw.
–I remember being at a friend’s bridal shower at just barely 7 months pregnant with Wombat and admitting things were starting to get a bit uncomfortable now. So yes, we’re right on schedule.
–At my latest OB appointment, the doctor mentioned my blood pressure was going up a bit (normal at this stage, but something to keep an eye on), and when she threw out the phrase “We might consider modified rest if we need to,” my response was, “Doc, if I rested more than I already do, I’d be dead.” On weekends I unchain from my desk chair and usually make an effort to Go Out and Do Something, but even then it’s limited to just walking (hobbling) around, not, like, going to spin class. If anything, I figured I needed *more* exercise, not less. (One round of Just Dance 3–thanks, Nintendo!–was more exercise than I’d gotten in the last six months.) With Simon home these past few weeks, he can vouch for how much rest I’m getting (and even more now that he’s here to do ALL the dishes and laundry and vacuuming and kid-schlepping.) Seriously, I sleep around 9 or 10 hours every night and then I sit in my chair from 9 to 5, getting up only to add or remove liquids from my body. How could I possibly do less than that? Is all this typing putting a strain on my system? I hardly think so.
–I’m constantly exhausted too, and that’s while doing only ULTRA-lite parenting and almost no squalor protection whatsoever (although reader Books SENT ME A STEAM MOP, Y’ALL, so that’s about to change). “You’re tired because you have a preschooler to chase around!” everyone says, at which point I remind them that my preschooler is at daycare eight-plus hours a day, during which I’m either (a) sitting in a desk chair or (b) sitting on a toilet.
–Six pounds in three weeks? Six pounds in three weeks! I’m taking applications for volunteers willing to push me around on a handtruck for the next twelve weeks (and maybe a month or so after that). Perhaps this explains everything.
–There is no excuse for me. For real.
I’ve reviewed Olay® products before, and all the usual praise applies to the most recent item they sent me (it’s quality, it’s affordable, it’s available at normal places I already shop), but this latest product, I think–no, I KNOW–is my favorite by far.
Introducing the Total Effects Tone Corrector UV Moisturizer.
I hate to start with a negative, but right off the bat I need to say that my main complaint is that you can’t see how inventive the product design is unless you open the box. IMO, the outer packaging should have a clear window so you can see how fancy the actual pump bottle is. The soft-serve twist-cone effect of the contents looks so
delicious cool I want to eat it wear it all up in one sitting. Yum.
(Okay, even though product design doesn’t mean squat if the product itself is subpar, I will say that I DO appreciate it when my beauty products are…beautiful. Might as well go all the way, right?)
So, how do I like the actual moisturizer? Perhaps a better question would be: “Olay tinted moisturizer, how do I love thee?” Shall we count the ways?
No, let’s not do that, but here’s what I’m digging about it:
The vanilla and chocolate in this swirled-together formula are (a) moisturizer with SPF 15 and (b) tinted moisturizer, which comes in a range of shades. (I wear Fair to Light.) The fact that one product combines moisturizer AND tone-evening tint AND sunscreen makes it a total time-saver. And yes, those extra thirty seconds DO count for me because on some days the prospect of spending an extra thirty seconds on self-beautification is all it takes for me to decide I’m simply entirely too lazy for this whole “look good, feel good” racket and I seriously contemplate leaving the house either (a) bare-faced or (b) wearing a paper sack on my head. Since having this product on hand, I’ve been wearing it even when I’m not leaving the house; that’s the best endorsement I can give anything, really.
Olay says the product “minimizes the look of spots instantly, helps with the appearance of discoloration, and fights the seven signs of aging.” Check, check, and I sure hope so! It definitely evens my skin tone and balances my color, and it does so in a way that doesn’t look or feel heavy the way foundation usually does. It’s noticable coverage but it’s light and natural coverage. Just my style.
The moisturizer itself feels rich without being thick, and it absorbs into my skin without feeling goopy or sticky or greasy. The SPF works wonders; I unexpectedly spent a few hours in the sun recently, and later that afternoon my forearms turned pink with sunburn but my face had been completely protected. Yay for products that do what they say they’re going to do.
I was already primed to love the product when I read that it was a three-in-one, and now that I’ve used it and seen what a great job it does in place of (not just in addition to) several other staples in my bathroom cabinet, I’m a huge, huge fan. Hey, lazy people deserve to look great too!
For a chance to win a $50 Visa gift card, tell me in the comments how you expedite your beauty routine and you’ll be entered into the sweepstakes.
No duplicate entries.
You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods: (a) Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post, (b) Tweet about this promotion and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment on this post, (c) Blog about this promotion and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post, (d) For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about an alternate form of entry.
This giveaway is open to U.S. Residents age 18 or older. Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by email. You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected.
The Official Rules are available here.
This sweepstakes runs from 4/9 to 5/16.
Be sure to visit the Olay TE page on BlogHer.com, where you can read other bloggers’ reviews and find more chances to win! While we’re on the subject of looking good, you might want to check out the “Looking Your Best” posts in the Life Well Lived section of BlogHer.com. There are some great tips and expert posts!
I was compensated and provided free product for this post. The opinions expressed herein are my own.