Should all my themes be Christmas from now until the 25th?

Haha, now that is Christmas Spirit.

Every day Stella wakes up and asks me if it's Christmas. We haven't even gotten our tree yet, but the child needs to know if it's Christmas.

Well, every day except today. Today she woke up screaming at me. And then her sister followed suit and they've been yelling at me ever since. It's been awesome. Omg.

It's one of those days where I could really just call a nanny and say, hey listen I have an emergency appointment to get my nails done, I'll be back in eight hours. Keep them happy!

And see ya later, sucker.

I don't know what's going on with them. Stella wakes up demanding breakfast before 7, she needed it right then she was so starving and then guess what sits on the table untouched? And don't even get me started on Scarlett.....

They are having Room Time right now. Something I learned about recently through Bible Study and some other moms. Where you make your children play quietly in their rooms for a designated period of time so that you, the mother, can find your sanity and it teaches them how to entertain themselves and respect your privacy.

I've never done it before. They actually put themselves in their room daily and play quietly with each other through out the day, not for long periods of time, but long enough for me to get a few things done. I've never felt like I needed a set designated time, plus I always have nap time. But today it was necessary. Trust me. It was necessary. And it's only 9:30.

This was after breakfast failed. After coloring failed. After dress-up failed. After I built them a sweet fort in the middle of the living room and that failed. And now I'm done. I've met Wits End and it's not pretty.

So I banished them to their room. I mean, excuse me, I suggested that they play quietly in their room together, away from me, for a while, a long, long, long while.

So yesterday I had a doctors appointment. They are every two weeks now and so the time is just flying by. It feels like I'm going to the doctor every other day. Anyways, I was nervous. I mean, who wouldn't be nervous about going to the doctor a couple days after Thanksgiving.

Trust me, there was nothing diet about our Thanksgiving, I even made the mashed potatoes with whipping cream.

Plus my appointment was right after lunch. Right after.

I couldn't even pee, ahem, use the restroom(I learned my lesson yesterday...), because I have to go in a cup for them. TMI? Sorry.

AND, I was wearing my snow boots. Because, well it snowed yesterday. Which ok, I will take my flip flops off for that damn scale if it means losing an ounce or two, but not my snow boots? I can't even imagine trying to get those things back on after taking them off in the middle of the doctors office. It's a process when I'm alone at home, in the privacy of my own bedroom. I can't reach my feet for one. And forget trying to stuff my swollen sausage ankles into those things..... Ha.

Turns out? I had nothing to worry about. I lost five pounds!!!

Five.

The nurse was so impressed and I just kept telling her that their perfectly-digitally-accurate-to-the-ounce-scale was wrong. It was off somehow. Because that could not have been possible.

First of all, we had more than one thanksgiving. Second of all, I made this fantastic Bourbon Pumpkin Cream Pie. Third of all, I made an even more amazing Pumpkin Cheesecake that I kind of had a love affair with, and by that I mean, I kind of ate the entire thing by myself......

I don't even want to talk about Zach's Cherry Pie that I've been eating for breakfast. Trust me, I'm not proud of myself.

It's shameful, really.

I'm embarrassed. I feel like this is a post for Over-Eaters Anonymous instead of my individual blog. ....

Or I've found the cure for real Weight Loss. The real secret is actually eating your weight in pie over a five day period. Bring on the Nobel Peace Prize.

It must be that Salad Master Thanksgiving. Holla.

Or a miracle from God.

I also learned something else at the appointment. Or rather, confirmed once again what we already knew!

I am 32 weeks. Baby Boy is measuring 37.

My doctor actually said, "Wow, it looks like we've jumped up here." And then he said, "We need to schedule an ultra sound. We need to see how big this baby is."

I swear there was actual panic in his eyes.

Oh brother.

Of course they say all of these things and then watch this baby will be like 7lbs. and nothing to worry about.

They just guess, that's all they can do.

And while they guess, they totally like to freak you out! I think it's their favorite game.