Checking In

I'm still here! It's been three months since we moved across country with a newborn and three cats, and truthfully, I'm just now starting to recover.

Level of Difficulty: 10,000,000,000

How do you move a baby and three felines 1,000 miles, you ask? With an RV. (And a series of quotes from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, natch.)

Yes, it was full.

Wrigs was disappointed we didn't move him in a customized motorcoach, ala Bret Michaels.

Gabby's first flight. I figured we were in for two hours of ear-torture, payback for years of 'tude toward overwhelmed traveling parents throughout our childless years. But no! She was a perfect angel. Seriously, angelic. (Not unlike the archangel Gabriel, whose name people seem to constantly confuse with Gabrielle...)

 


On that note, I would like to issue a PSA: Gabrielle. Gab-ree-elle. It's not like I named my baby Mratlidaplegey. It's a real name. Did no one watch Xena or Desperate Housewives? Are you not fans of Gabrielle Union or Gabrielle Carteris?

It's Gabrielle. Not Gabriel. Gab. Rhymes with "stab."

The cats love our new house. It's a little bigger than our old one and the floor plan allows them to chase each other in a very Scooby Doo fashion.

My house every night at 3am.

My publisher set me up with a book signing, giving me a chance to finally see Old Town Winchester - which is incredibly cool. And the Winchester Book Gallery is a big part of that coolness. And I got to meet J.P. Sloan, my partner-in-sign. He was also way cool. (Do kids still say cool?)

So that's what you missed. Cats. Baby. Baby. Cats. Cats. Baby. Baby. Oh, and I've put FIFTEEN's sequel, SIXTEEN, into the very capable hands of my literary agent, so stay tuned! And for more timely updates, follow me on Twitter @jenestesdotcom, because it's a lot easier to update in 140 characters or less.

Blah, blah, blah... BABY PICS!!!

I know I've been neglecting all forms of social media lately, but it's been either Gabby or the interwebz... and despite an infinite supply of cat pics, Gabby is just harder to resist. Of course, the Internet has never pooped on me, but I still think she's worth it. 

SHE's here!

Just a quick pause to introduce you to Gabrielle Shae, born 3/25/15 at 8 lbs. 5 oz.! Now, go give your mom a hug because childbirth HURTS! I'm off to nap...

As my due date looms...

Bumpdate: Week 39 (The '40 divided by 4 = WTF' edition)

Wait. It's going to come out of where???

Nine months. Nine months. Nine months. That's all you ever hear. There was even that movie with Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore... which I thought I liked, but there's a scene where Julianne's character tries to get rid of Hugh's character's cat because she's totally jelly that it's way cuter than her and her baby. Or maybe it was because she had an irrational fear of toxoplasmosis (which, FYI, she was much more likely to get from contaminated produce or meat at her fictional grocery store). Either way, two paws down. But back to business: "nine" months are actually ten, kinda like how "morning" sickness is any damn time sickness. Dick move, preggy books.

Baby is the Size of a... mini watermelon. Ahem... mini?

Swell Hell: Le sigh. It's hard to give the middle finger when you have no feeling in it.

Weight Gain: I stopped counting.

Sleep: Well, the finish line is in sight and I still find that giant U-shaped body pillow (the one that all the preggy books said I HAD TO HAVE) to be a cumbersome, suffocating, overpriced, unnecessary, pain in my ass.

I'm looking forward to... what do you think?!? (I mean, besides pizza night.)

Bumpdate: Week 38 (Alternate Title: Revenge of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man)

Cankles, like death and the taxman, come for us all.

Baby is the Size of a... leek. A leek? I'm assuming these leeks grow in a super GMO field that is located under a power line and watered with that ooze that mutates adolescent sewer turtles into buff ninjas.

That's Just Swell: I still have the carpal tunnel fun in my hands and wrists, with the added aesthetic pleasure of Flintstone feet.

Weight Gain: Twenty-six pounds.

Sleep: I snore now. Much apologies to DH and Wrigley, though after years of putting up with both of their massive log-sawing (yep, cats can snore)... um, #sorrynotsorry.

Pick a Bday, Any Bday: When I first found out I was preggo, I hoped for an April Fools' Day Baby ("How cute!"). Then, I rooted for March 26th, my due date ("A 26er! Just like me, my brother, my sister-in-law, and bonus, it's my mother-in-law's bday - easy gift!"). After awhile, I landed on a St. Patty's Day baby instead ("Grandpa Sweeney was a first gen American, after all!"). Now I've decided a Friday the 13th baby is the way to go. After all, it's going to be a bloody, scary and a guy with a mask will be reaching into my insides.

Best Moment of the Week: Last night, DH wrapped ice packs around my feet...

Bumpdate: Week OMG My Belly Is Going To Explode (or, 37)

Clearly, the cats have had enough of these pics. Join the club, kitties!

I hit Week 37 this week, which is very exciting, because it means this bumpdate could be my last! Or there could be another five. Interestingly enough, I'm measuring at 38 weeks - which actually caught me by surprise, because it feels like about 58 weeks.

Baby is the size of a... toddler. Have you seen my stomach?!

Weight Gain: Twenty-five pounds, but I just made a cheesecake, so look out!

Stretch Marks: Not yet, but I know they're coming - assuming my stomach has any stretch left in it.

Best Moment This Week: It's a secret! But I might be able to share it with in April. Forgive the vague-y-ness, I'm sworn to secrecy! But it's crazy, wild, awesome, exciting, and the timing couldn't be... more insane.

I leave you with... my GIF of belly progression:

Bumpdate: Week 36!

This week's costar: IVY! I don't know how many more weeks I have left, but I want to make sure and get one with each kitty cat. Which means next week is... Captain Moo! (The enchantingly bipolar, formerly feral permakitten .)

I had a good run of being that preggo that other preggos hate: I didn't have cankles and I could make it into the grocery store without waddling. But clearly, the pregnancy gods are dog people and I have been smited (smote?) with the swelling wand. And from this swelling, I have pregnancy carpal tunnel syndrome. (It's a thing!) And I now walk around like the Penguin. And I'm not talking emo-cutie-Robin-Lord-Taylor-Penguin. I'm talking Danny-DeVito-Slopping-On-A-Raw-Fish Penguin.

Baby is the size of a... ninja. A baby ninja trying to kick its way into this world.

Weight Gain: Twenty-four pounds.

Sleep: Is even more difficult when you're trying to prop up your ankles and wrists.

Belly Button: Enters rooms before I do.

Best Moment This Week: That would be my pre-natal massage, which for the record is THE BEST GIFT YOU CAN GIVE A PREGNANT LADY. 

Bumpdate: Week 35

I really enjoy the looks on people's faces when they are obtuse enough to ask what gender I "really" want and I show them a pic of Wrigley and say, "Well I already have a boy..."

Well, this is it. The week I really began to feel pregnant. When even sitting is hard and turning over in bed is an Olympic feat.

Fruit to Fetus Comparison... a honeydew. (Watermelon's lame cousin.)

Weight Gain: Twenty-three pounds. (And counting, thanks to those V-Day candy clearance sales...)

Sleep: Is a far, distance memory.

Belly Button: Is the weirdest thing I've ever seen, but still hasn't popped.

Best Moment This Week: Impromptu snow day with DH wherein we began our pre-Season 5 GoT marathon. 

Bumpdate: Week 34

Thirty-four... and how many more?

If This Baby Was in the Produce Department, It Would... weigh between four and five pounds. Because I am capable of comprehending weights without comparing them to produce, I decided to just ask my doc how much the baby weighs right now. Take that, preggy books! 

Weight Gain: Twenty-one pounds. Note: This is a Pre-Valentine's-Day-candy number.

Cravings: Laffy Taffy.

Sleep: At night I pee, and lay down a few times to sleep.

Belly Button: Does not resemble that of an Earthling's.

Best Moment This Week: Hearing the baby's heartbeat! 144, which it has been the last three doctor appointments. 

Looking Forward To: Valentine's Day! I know, barf - right? But after a decade of boycotting, DH and I decided that it is absurd that we do not celebrate a holiday dedicated to candy and sex. (However, we will continue to sneer/mock/judge commercials that imply blood diamonds are the only true measure of lurrrve.)

Bumpdate: Week 33!

But babies aren't covered in those little spiky edges when they come out, right?

If This Baby Was in the Produce Department, It Would Be... getting pinched by old ladies. Oh! You mean a size reference. Well, a pineapple. See what I did there with my picture? 

Weight Gain: Holding firm with my twenty pounds, despite my valiant efforts to taste every flavor that Breyers® makes. (Girl Scout Samoas FTW.)

Cravings: Well, this pineapple is looking pretty good.

Sleep: Eh.

Belly Button: Is peeking out to say hello.

Symptoms: I'm still fairly boring. In fact, but for that first trimester bout of morning sickness, this giant pineapple-infused bump, and one extremely erotic dream starring Patton Oswalt, things are pretty much same-old, same-old.

Best Moment This Week: Um, I think I covered this with the Saved by the Bell skit on Jimmy Fallon. 

Looking Forward To: The Walking Dead returning on Sunday night! And Better Call Saul! God, I love TV.

Bumpdate: Week 32 (The Ohmigosh-This-Is-Going-Way-Too-Fast-Edition)

Mere weeks away from a doctor shoving a baby in my arms, with little more instruction than "Congratulations. Try to keep it alive and from growing up to hate you."

I know I've missed a couple of weeks of these bumpdates. But as I cautioned you before, I'm very lazy. And I've been juggling the release of FIFTEEN, which is almost as exciting and terrifying as this pregnancy. (This is also my shameless, pitiful plug for you to add it, rate it, buy it, review it in exchange for my undying gratitude.)

If This Baby Was a Veggie, It Would Be A... Jicama. My God, these baby books are stupid informative.

Weight Gain: Twenty Pounds! Doc called it a "modest" weight gain, because clearly he works on tips.

Cravings: Double Decker Chocolate Cake. Which I made yesterday.

Sleep: I slept through the entire night on Sunday. When I got up, I had to pee like a [there is no ladylike simile applicable here], but it was still pretty cool.

Belly Button: Is technically not out yet, but you sure can see it underneath all of my shirts. And hey, it really does look like a button.

Symptoms: Things are still relatively easy, except I've been getting indigestion from all of my favorite foods and the occasional crippling leg cramp. Both of which my doc told me Tums will help - weird, huh?

Best Moment This Week: My husband referring to Group B as "Strep butt."

Looking Forward To: The Super Bowl! For the food, of course.

Does it get any easier?

As I sit here anticipating FIFTEEN's release, which is now... um... one hour, thirty-three minutes and four seconds away, I remember a friend asking me, "Does it get any easier?"

"Does what get any easier? Removing stickers from wood? Downward-facing dog pose? Watching the Red Wedding?" I inquired.

"Book Release Day," she replied.

Ah. That. I immediately told her that no, it does not. That I'm still a nervous, fingernail-biting, room-pacing wreck, fearing an onslaught of bad reviews or worse, complete silence.

But that's not true. I mean, I'm still a mess - but I think my fingernails aren't quite the bloody stumps they were four years ago. I've come to realize that unless you're Stevie King or Queen J.K., release day isn't nearly as important as release month. Or even release year. Don't get me wrong, it's fun to have a "big day" to party with everyone, but the majority of sales and hype don't automatically pour in when the clock strikes midnight.

In other words: it's a marathon, not a sprint. (Yup, I just used a track analogy on you. Hey, it's the only sport for uncoordinated loners, and it provided a lot of downtime for reading.)

Note the scrunchi, bad perm and steely look of determination.

To Each Their Own Reviews: Fifteen by Jen Estes

To Each Their Own Reviews: Blog Tour: Fifteen by Jen Estes: It's been ages since I've hosted a YA book tour - so let's change that today! I'm happy to be hosting a stop on Jen Estes&#3...

Bumpdate: Week 29... Farewell, jeans.

And hello, sweatpants.

I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm preparing for FIFTEEN's release!!! Check out my Goodreads page, view the trailer below, and if you like what you see, you can even pre-order it on Amazon!

Happy Release Day to Watch Me Burn by Sharon Bayliss!

Hooray! The day is finally here! Book 2 in The December People series, Watch Me Burn, is now available for purchase. Re-join the Vandergraff family as they navigate the delicate balance between dark magic and family.

Buy on AMAZON

Barnes and Noble & Kobo links should be available soon.

David Vandergraff lost his home, his job, and contact with his oldest son, but remains determined to be a good husband and father despite being a dark winter wizard.

His resolve is tested when a flyer for a missing girl--who happens to be a summer witch--begins to haunt him. David believes a spell needs to use him to save her, so he follows the magic's command and looks into her disappearance. His teenage daughter Emmy resents him for caring so much about a random stranger. But when she uncovers some disturbing evidence close to home, she begins an investigation of her own.

David and Emmy quickly learn that the mystery is not only about a missing girl they barely know, but a deeply personal story that impacts everyone they care about. As their world crumbles, they fear the warning may be true—never mess with summer wizards, because the good guys always win.

A little taste...

Bumpdate: Week 28

Warning: the button on these jeans is under extreme pressure.

The baby is the size of... an eggplant. Which gives me some serious Coneheads flashbacks. Anyone? No? That movie is so underrated.

Cravings: I got nothing. I'm telling you, I am the world's most boring preggo.

Weight gain: Fifteen pounds.

Annoying people are... asking (with horror stricken faces) how I'm able to shop for a baby without knowing its gender.

Not-annoying people are... keeping their opinions to themselves.

I'm freaking out because... I'm officially in the third trimester. I don't feel nearly Mom-ish enough yet. Quick! To the station wagon and Dress Barn!