"Your Baby Is One Day Old"

Thus reads my handy-dandy baby counter on the sidebar of my blog.  Funny.  I don't recall giving birth.  Oh, wait, that's because I HAVEN'T.  That baby counter is a LIAR!


I am still very much pregnant, very much huge, and if that isn't exciting enough for you, add to that list the fact that I have developed PUPPP (Pruritic Urticarial Papules and Plaques of Pregnancy).  This is a fancy-schmancy acronym that really just means my entire body is covered in red bumps, and each red bump itches like it is a mosquito bite the size of Texas.  It started with an itchy belly, but soon became an itchy body.  I am looking stellar these days, let me tell you.  My mom offered to take pictures of my delightful rash, but I will save you the visual.  If you're dying to see (I do not recommend eating before hand), do a google image search and knock yourself out.  The pictures are pretty true to life.  


These are the things I have been doing to relieve aforementioned rash:


--Covering my entire body in Calamine lotion
--Covering my entire body in refrigerated Milk of Magnesia
--Soaking in Oatmeal Baths
--Lying naked in bed, trying not to cry
--Lying naked in bed, crying
--Sporting any clothing I can find that resembles a muumuu, so it won't touch my intensely itching skin
--Screaming, "I'M GOING TO KILL SOMEONE!"  when the itching becomes severe
--Complaining.  A lot.
--Trying to coax The Saucer out with verbal cues, some more aggressively stated than others
--Searching the Internet for potential cures without too much luck . . . UNTIL . . . 


I heard about this:

An online forum filled with other women in my predicament praised this soap to the heavens.  Yesterday, I bought my first bar for $3.99 at GNC in Greenville, after my doctor's appointment.  When I asked the man in the store if they carried it, he promptly said, "OH!  That stuff stinks!" and showed me where it was.  He had never before sold a bar.


Upon returning home, I showered.


I showered again, later.


I intend to scrub with this stuff multiple times today.


On the back of the box, Grandpa has this to say about his soap:  "There are no added colors or fragrances to mask the rich brown color and distinctive scent of natural Pine Tar Oil."  So, what does that mean exactly?


It means it smells like a campfire.  


No, really, it smells like a campfire.  When you take a whiff of the box you really do wonder if you need to bring some marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers into the shower with you, just in case you feel like a s'more.  


I do not care what it smells like in the slightest, because my rash is looking better.  


Don't get me wrong:  I still look like I belong in a leprosy colony somewhere, and I'm sure mothers will steer their children the other way if they see me approaching them in a store, but I see a marked improvement.  My skin is less irritated, less red, and I am hoping this is going to keep getting better.


But, enough about yucky skin conditions.  We have also been doing other things around here, too.


Check out the adorable art project my mom and I completed for The Saucer's room:


I bought these framed pictures at a garage sale for $1.00 a piece.  That's $3.00 for frames with glass!

   
  Some white spray paint and scrap-booking supplies later, and TA-DA:

Aren't they precious?  I love how they turned out.  I think they are even cuter in person, but that's just me. 


Also, I have to post some pictures of the front of our house, just because the little yard work we have accomplished this summer has made a huge difference. 


This was the front of our house around Christmas time, with the original, boxy landscaping still in place:

And this is how we have changed things up since then:

We finally managed to finish clearing the beds (and by we, I really mean Chad who spent an entire 100+ degree day shoveling and hauling mess in a wheelbarrow) and laying mulch before my mom came.  (By the way, I really do mean WE with the mulch.  I totally helped with that part, even fully pregnant.)  I think it looks so much nicer, and I can't wait to see how much better it looks next year, after we actually re-space the bushes and plant some other things.


Anyway, that's what we've been up to around here.  Any prayers you would like to offer to help speed up The Saucer's arrival would be greatly appreciated.  I have not had an inkling of labor pains.  Nada.  Nothing.  It's like he's content to stay in his cramped, little environment forever.  I promise when he does decide to arrive, I'll be sure to let you all know.  Until then . . .