Look at that face, with the little hand rubbing the aforementioned button nose. That is a cute baby. That is my son.

So, I hit 30 weeks today and I am so impatient for this to be over. At my last doctor's visit (I go every two weeks now), I was informed that little Liam Gabriel is already in position. He's been kicking my belly button all week. My momma-waddle is all exaggerated and EVERYONE who doesn't know me keeps offering the oh-so encouraging "You look miserable!" or "You're huge!" comments. Please, keep 'em coming. There's nothing like being kicked when you're down. I guess I'm just grumpy. Jeremy is on a 2-week vacation in the Keys, drinking beer and diving for lobster. I don't know when I'll get a vacation; doesn't appear to be any time soon.

On some happier notes, I have a lot of great stuff coming up in the next few weeks. Jeremy and I are going to a Shriner's charity event on Friday, then we have the Dave Matthews Band concert on 9/12. My mothers and I are glamming it up for My Fair Lady on 9/13, which should be a splendiferous occasion. Jer and I celebrate our 13th year of couplehood and 8th year of marriage on the 17th. September is just a busy month this year! I just hope my Gaby-baby stays put. I 'm considered full-term on October 14th. I just want him to be healthy.

Anywho, I promise to keep updating as events occur. And by "promise" I mean I'll try but no guarantees and by "as events occur" I mean when I actually sit myself down and log in.

Happy Labor Day, ya'll!

Lazy Ass

Yep, that's what I am. I haven't done nearly as much random blogging as I intended when I cranked up this little piece of internet space. I have to admit, I've been damn tired lately. Lugging around a baby and all that fluid is hard, tiring work. This does not include the fatigue that comes from battling the hormones raging within me. Those are fun. There's nothing quite like engaging in a 3-building search for Hostess cupcakes one minute and crying over being out of eggs the next. God bless the men in my life that put up with this without slipping Xanax into my prenatal vitamins. Hey, that's not a bad idea...

Anywho, y'all aren't here for me, you're here for the kid. And what a kid this is gonna be. It has been confirmed; we are having a boy. My son, Gabriel, is currently 1 pound with a heart rate of 142 beats per minute. He's an active little guy, kicking, punching, and rolling around with reckless abandon and a mind-numbing supply of energy. Had my daughter not spilled juice on the ultrasound photos, you would be seeing his adorable profile, which includes the cutest damn button nose on the face of the planet. Once the photos dry, I'll scan them in and share.

Not all the news was rosy today though. I have been informed that, since my daughter was 6 weeks premature, it is very likely that my son will also be premature. I believe the actual quote was "Most likely he'll come at about the same time your daughter did." Of course, the doctor can't make any guarantees, and they'll be monitoring me closely as that time approaches, but GEEZ. I've stressed out about this whole pregnancy for this whole pregnancy. Now I find out that I could be having this little guy in 11 weeks?!?! I am constantly thanking the PTB that Katie is remarkably unscathed following her premature arrival. She had some problems with her digestive system, as it had not fully developed inside the womb. Overall, though, she was healthy. We were unbelievably lucky with her. I can only hope that luck holds out for my son. He's the last baby I'm going to have. I'm doing everything to make sure I'm healthy and he's getting exactly what he needs. And yes, on occasion, he needs Hostess cupcakes. Back off.

So that's it. It's late (for me, anyway) and I'm tuckered. I promise to be more vigilant in my postings. Goodnight, everyone.

Umm, so I have some news...

I'm a thief. A copycat. A follower. I started this blog in imitation of my good friends Jeff and Jodi, who are expecting a bouncing baby boy. They seemed all cool with their regular posts and updates. I wanted to be like that. I'm failing miserably. No matter, I have my reasons, and you can't have them.

So, I'm back in the working world, kickin' it with the growed-ups. I finish my training this week and start the actual job next Monday. I'm slightly nervous only because I keep reverting to old adjuster habits. It'll be day by day, but thankfully I am surrounded by really great people who actually want to see me succeed. So that's pretty cool.

Other pretty cool things: My Katie loves her new "school". She has a best friend, Audrey, and a boyfriend, Colin. *shakes head* She's three. This is a sign of things to come, I know it. I must find a very large stick.

I'm back in school. I'm taking Survey of World Literature, which sounds high-falutin'. It's okay. So far, I like the selections we're reading. I do realize, however, how much I DON'T miss writing essays. Yargh.

It seems like all my friends are having baby boys. Jeff and Jodi, Troy and Mayra... I don't know about Trish yet, she's a few weeks behind me.

Yeah, y'all read that right. I'm pregnant. 15 1/2 weeks today, as a matter of fact. Jeremy and I wanted to wait until the second trimester to really tell the world. I know some of you have known for a little while. I can't keep my mouth entirely shut, you know. My next appointment is on 6/8 and is the triple-screen test for ucky stuff. After that, 4 weeks after that, to be anally precise, is the "Is it a boy or a girl?" ultrasound. I'll post as soon as I know.

I won't go into the drama that has already surrounded this pregnancy. Let's just say I've been to the hospital three times already, but the baby is doing fine.

(Here's the part where the blog comes full-circle.)
So, as soon as I can, I'll post the most recent "picture" of my Dimple-baby, so you all can see the amorphous blob I call child. And I'll keep blogging about the fun pregnant things noone gives a rat's ass about, like my current affinity for microwave burritos and pickles. (Not together; I'm not that far gone!) Oh, and I'll gripe about random aches, pains, fluids, and bizarre pregnancy dreams. Like the one where Spencer (my cat) told me, in a Barry White voice, to check the water heater. Good times.

I know I'm ripping off the wonder that is Jeff and Jodi's baby blog. Didn't someone once say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?

On a roll...

I just realized that I start my new job in 3 weeks and 1 day. I'm excited to be going back to the adult world. I love being home with Katie, but there are only so many potty-accidents, temper tantrums, and episodes of Dora that one mom can handle. It'll be nice to talk to people using words with more than 2 syllables about things other than Swiper the Fox and bubbles. I'll miss my time with Katie, no doubt. But I'll value the time I have with her even more. Plus, I'll have the opportunity to leave the house and Kates will get to make new friends.

So, yeah, 3 weeks until I become Laura The Adult again. Huzzah!

Derivation

So, here it is, my first blog. Woohoo. Okay, maybe I should be a little excited. WOOHOO!!!! Eew, too much. Anywho, I figured I'd start out with the origins of the Shooter McFinney name. Here goes:

I bowl. With my family, every Wednesday night. We are a team (Mom, Patti, John, James, and I) and we categorically and consistently stink. Sorry, Mom, but 10th out of 12 ain't stellar. We're getting better, really. This is where Shooter comes in.

Every Wednesday night, I bowl crappily and can't get a handle on how to improve. So, my teammates decided that I needed a new moniker to embody the me that erupts on the rare occasion that I make a spare or, gasp, a strike. They liken that enthusiastic burst of happiness (and its accompanying fist pump) to the character Shooter McGavin from Happy Gilmore. So one such Wednesday, they changed my screen name from Laura Finney to Shooter Finney. Almost immediately, I started bowling better. The name, and my score, has since evolved to Shooter McFinney, with a brief stint as Shooter McShoot Shoot. My last game as Shooter netted me a score of 190. So, yeah, it kinda works.

So there it is. I go all out to start my own blogspace-type-thing and open 'er up with a post about bowling.

I know where this is going from here, 'cause I'm tricksy like that.