Today marks 36 Weeks!
We’re doing pretty well. Not too many complaints.
I will say, though, the Braxton Hicks contractions are a bitch! I didn’t have any with my other two pregnancies, but I definitely am this time. They take my breath away. You’d think with as painful as they can feel some birthing work would be going on in there. You know, a little baby head dropping, or some cervical effacing or dilating. According to the doctor yesterday, everything is still exactly as it was….good and tight.
Peachy. Just peachy.
(Too much info for some of you? Sorry! But that’s where my mind is.)
No more ultrasounds, which Pat and I were bummed about, but it’s a good thing. That means I’m not having any complications. I was looking forward to seeing what the baby looked like all cramped up his womb. I’ve never had one this far along. I’d especially like to view him when he’s punching me, or kicking, or just trying to get comfortable. Sometimes I can’t figure out what in the world is going on in there. I see this little mole hill go from the right side to the left and then suddenly my right hip bone is kicked and I can envision sparks flying off my bladder as he pounces on it.
Maybe he’s taking after his sister Sarah and jumping around to the music on “Dancing with the Stars” and dipping himself with his legs high over his head. I don’t think his daddy would like to picture that too much. Pat was warning me about all the little league football, guitar lessons, GI Joes, and even snakes coming our way. I asked what would happen if he wanted dance lessons? That didn't go over too well.
But, hey, sometimes a dude’s gotta dance! That's how Pat got me on our first date.
I just wish the baby would wait until he’s born to kick up his heels. Then I’ll dance around with him all he wants.
4 weeks to go!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Yes, I’m still here. I hope you are, too.
I took some time to grieve and rest, and then work kicked up into fifth gear. I feel like I’m driving down the highway in a Toyota with sudden acceleration and just hope I can slow it down or find a rubber tree on the side of the road.
I’m working like crazy to meet more deadlines than humanly possible over the next few days with the phone ringing every 5 minutes, plus I’m trying to get things organized for whoever takes over my position while I’m out on maternity leave. Not to mention the things I need to get done here at home before the little one makes his appearance in approximately….5 weeks! Yeah! I actually managed to get some things done this weekend. I was very proud. I was achy last night, but I was able to lay down with a sense of accomplishment.
I realize I owe you the story of Gilligan (RIP). I also have an urge to write about another someone special in my life. I’ll try to bust those out as my emotions allow…somewhere in between the deadlines, ringing phone, and the toddler jumping on the couch next to me right now.
I promise. I won’t take another holiday for a while.
Well, not until I have an infant in my arms.
I’m working like crazy to meet more deadlines than humanly possible over the next few days with the phone ringing every 5 minutes, plus I’m trying to get things organized for whoever takes over my position while I’m out on maternity leave. Not to mention the things I need to get done here at home before the little one makes his appearance in approximately….5 weeks! Yeah! I actually managed to get some things done this weekend. I was very proud. I was achy last night, but I was able to lay down with a sense of accomplishment.
I realize I owe you the story of Gilligan (RIP). I also have an urge to write about another someone special in my life. I’ll try to bust those out as my emotions allow…somewhere in between the deadlines, ringing phone, and the toddler jumping on the couch next to me right now.
I promise. I won’t take another holiday for a while.
Well, not until I have an infant in my arms.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Gilligan
I had to put Gilligan, my cat of almost 20 years, to sleep yesterday morning. I'll write more about her when the loss is not so raw.
RIP, Gillie.
RIP, Gillie.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
A Quick Rant
Okay…so I’ve been sitting here this morning thinking about a topic for today. I was originally going to post pics of the girls for Easter and give an Easter egg update. Then I surfed the web a little to see who was voted off American Idol last night. Big Mike! Come on! He’s one of my favorites this season. I was going to vent about the tone deafness that seems to be plaguing America right now. Or at least American Idol voters (and a few others that I won’t talk about).
BUT THEN…
I saw the new Nike/Tiger Woods ad. I read that it’s controversial, so naturally I watched and then read the article explaining the controversy.
I’m furious!
In case you haven’t seen it, it’s just a black and white shot of Tiger looking into the camera all “remorseful.” In the background you hear his deceased father’s voice asking Tiger what he was thinking, how he feels, did he learn anything. Obviously, he was talking about something besides the infamous affairs….and more affairs….and, oh yeah, even more affairs.
The article I read stated the controversy was Nike using his dead father’s words “without his permission.” Really??? That’s the controversy? How many millions does Tiger get for one ad with Nike? Shouldn’t the outrage be more about this golfer (and that’s all he is) making money off of cheating on his wife?
I never had feelings about this guy one way or another until the numerous affairs surfaced. I pretty much came to the conclusion that the guy’s a phony and a jerk and needs some serious help with his zipper.
Now?
He’s a BLEEPity BLEEP BLEEP!
And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.
BUT THEN…
I saw the new Nike/Tiger Woods ad. I read that it’s controversial, so naturally I watched and then read the article explaining the controversy.
I’m furious!
In case you haven’t seen it, it’s just a black and white shot of Tiger looking into the camera all “remorseful.” In the background you hear his deceased father’s voice asking Tiger what he was thinking, how he feels, did he learn anything. Obviously, he was talking about something besides the infamous affairs….and more affairs….and, oh yeah, even more affairs.
The article I read stated the controversy was Nike using his dead father’s words “without his permission.” Really??? That’s the controversy? How many millions does Tiger get for one ad with Nike? Shouldn’t the outrage be more about this golfer (and that’s all he is) making money off of cheating on his wife?
I never had feelings about this guy one way or another until the numerous affairs surfaced. I pretty much came to the conclusion that the guy’s a phony and a jerk and needs some serious help with his zipper.
Now?
He’s a BLEEPity BLEEP BLEEP!
And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Countdown Continues
Last weekend our friends John and Kim came over with baby stuff in tow. They have a 9 month old boy who is growing like crazy, so they gave us his swing, bouncer, bath chair – or more like a lounger, and even more clothes than what they had given us previously - 2 tubs that’s still waiting to be unpacked. I asked Pat to hide them before they came over.
John and Kim are very much on top of things and despite having 2 dogs, a baby, and 2 full time jobs, their house is always neat and everything is in its place. Oh yes! And they don’t procrastinate. They’re both military people, so there you go. Maybe Pat and I should sign up for boot camp. Uh…..no.
Savannah and I were still on our marathon shopping trip when they came by, and I’m so glad we were. I wouldn’t want to make our friends uncomfortable with my ticks as I saw everything that was wrong with our house, like the dust on the tables, or the dog hair on the floor, or *GASP!* Biscuit’s chair that really needs to go out on the curb. It would start with a little eye twitch, and then progress to a shoulder twitch like Michael Jackson in the “Thriller” video. I might even pop my mouth open like he did in full zombie-wear and then pretty soon they’d think I’d have Tourette Syndrome as cuss words fly out of my mouth when I try to take their attention off the hole in Biscuit’s chair.
Pat said Kim was anxious to see the nursery. He just laughed and said, “This is our third, Kim. This baby’s going wherever we have room.”
You really would have no idea that we’re expecting another baby pretty soon. Of course my wide butt and big belly, not to mention swollen ankles, are pretty big giveaways.
Despite our, or should I say MY, embarrassment at the lack of cleaning and organizing we’ve obviously done in preparation for this baby’s birth, we are so grateful to them for all they’ve given us.
7 weeks to go.
Holy crap! Somebody light a fire under my big butt.
John and Kim are very much on top of things and despite having 2 dogs, a baby, and 2 full time jobs, their house is always neat and everything is in its place. Oh yes! And they don’t procrastinate. They’re both military people, so there you go. Maybe Pat and I should sign up for boot camp. Uh…..no.
Savannah and I were still on our marathon shopping trip when they came by, and I’m so glad we were. I wouldn’t want to make our friends uncomfortable with my ticks as I saw everything that was wrong with our house, like the dust on the tables, or the dog hair on the floor, or *GASP!* Biscuit’s chair that really needs to go out on the curb. It would start with a little eye twitch, and then progress to a shoulder twitch like Michael Jackson in the “Thriller” video. I might even pop my mouth open like he did in full zombie-wear and then pretty soon they’d think I’d have Tourette Syndrome as cuss words fly out of my mouth when I try to take their attention off the hole in Biscuit’s chair.
Pat said Kim was anxious to see the nursery. He just laughed and said, “This is our third, Kim. This baby’s going wherever we have room.”
You really would have no idea that we’re expecting another baby pretty soon. Of course my wide butt and big belly, not to mention swollen ankles, are pretty big giveaways.
Despite our, or should I say MY, embarrassment at the lack of cleaning and organizing we’ve obviously done in preparation for this baby’s birth, we are so grateful to them for all they’ve given us.
7 weeks to go.
Holy crap! Somebody light a fire under my big butt.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
A Moment
There was a little magic in the six o’clock hour last night. Nothing extraordinary or out of the norm. Just a little special time.
We had dinner early with Pat before he had to leave to give lessons. One of our favorite comfort meals: pancakes, bacon, and eggs. After Pat left Savannah, Sarah, and gathered on my bed with our various books and read quietly with an occasional check-in.
“How are you?”
“How’s that book?”
Or Sarah’s, “Hi,” said in a whisper with a bright smile peeking over the edge of the page.
Then Sarah bounced over next to me with the book "Where the Wild Things Are" and I read it aloud with all of us growling, roaring, and gnashing our teeth. A quiet moment turned into a let-it-all-out, crazy time. We fell into a heap laughing and then Sarah brought over the next book, "Ten Kisses Good Night." Lots of sugar was passed around.
Then seven o’clock hit and we all jumped off the bed and ran to the TV. “Dancing with the Stars” was coming on. There were Waltzes to watch and Salsas to imitate. The fun continued, but there was something about those magical moments together on the bed. It’s the little things we share that unexpectedly turn into the most cherished of times.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go break up a fight between my daughters.
Ah, memories.
We had dinner early with Pat before he had to leave to give lessons. One of our favorite comfort meals: pancakes, bacon, and eggs. After Pat left Savannah, Sarah, and gathered on my bed with our various books and read quietly with an occasional check-in.
“How are you?”
“How’s that book?”
Or Sarah’s, “Hi,” said in a whisper with a bright smile peeking over the edge of the page.
Then Sarah bounced over next to me with the book "Where the Wild Things Are" and I read it aloud with all of us growling, roaring, and gnashing our teeth. A quiet moment turned into a let-it-all-out, crazy time. We fell into a heap laughing and then Sarah brought over the next book, "Ten Kisses Good Night." Lots of sugar was passed around.
Then seven o’clock hit and we all jumped off the bed and ran to the TV. “Dancing with the Stars” was coming on. There were Waltzes to watch and Salsas to imitate. The fun continued, but there was something about those magical moments together on the bed. It’s the little things we share that unexpectedly turn into the most cherished of times.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go break up a fight between my daughters.
Ah, memories.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Easter Procrastination
We had a really good Easter. A service that included a precious little girl asking me for a hug because she liked my singing - so you know that made it the best Easter service ever! We had a fun, tasty lunch with my sister and her family. And we had lots of silly, goofing off time at the house.
My Bad Mom Skills abounded the entire weekend, though. I bought Easter egg dye with every intention to use it. Really, I did.
On Saturday evening, after an hour-long egg hunt at church, then 3 hours of shopping (with no success) for Savannah’s Easter outfit, followed by 2 hours of grocery shopping, I was looking for a quick dinner to make. Savannah came in the kitchen and asked when we would dye the eggs.
** sigh **
“How about after dinner?”
After dinner comes:
“Mom, can we dye the eggs now?”
** sigh **
-- stretch –
“&*^$” ACHE! “&*%^”
“How about tomorrow after lunch?”
Savannah sulked out of the kitchen. Bad Mom strikes again.
I felt guilty so I invited Savannah to lay down with me and read for a while, only to fall asleep and wake at 11:00 realizing I hadn’t put the girls’ Easter baskets together yet. Yikes! I dashed out of bed, as fast as my tired, pregnant body would allow, and assembled everything eating quite a few jelly beans along the way. I laid back down around midnight satisfied that the girls would wake to their goodies and hoping that I may have redeemed myself a little bit.
After Sunday lunch comes and I get the question:
“Mom, can we dye the eggs now?”
** sigh **
** yawn **
-- light bulb pops over my head --
“How about we play Wii together?”
“Okay!”
Bad Mom rears her ugly head again.
As of Monday at noon we still don’t have dyed Easter eggs at the house. Savannah ended up sick as a dog last night. Would it be in bad form if we made our eggs the Monday or Tuesday after Easter? Maybe Wednesday? No, I can’t Wednesday. There’s always Thursday. Hmmm…Think the dye tablets will last another year?
My Bad Mom Skills abounded the entire weekend, though. I bought Easter egg dye with every intention to use it. Really, I did.
On Saturday evening, after an hour-long egg hunt at church, then 3 hours of shopping (with no success) for Savannah’s Easter outfit, followed by 2 hours of grocery shopping, I was looking for a quick dinner to make. Savannah came in the kitchen and asked when we would dye the eggs.
** sigh **
“How about after dinner?”
After dinner comes:
“Mom, can we dye the eggs now?”
** sigh **
-- stretch –
“&*^$” ACHE! “&*%^”
“How about tomorrow after lunch?”
Savannah sulked out of the kitchen. Bad Mom strikes again.
I felt guilty so I invited Savannah to lay down with me and read for a while, only to fall asleep and wake at 11:00 realizing I hadn’t put the girls’ Easter baskets together yet. Yikes! I dashed out of bed, as fast as my tired, pregnant body would allow, and assembled everything eating quite a few jelly beans along the way. I laid back down around midnight satisfied that the girls would wake to their goodies and hoping that I may have redeemed myself a little bit.
After Sunday lunch comes and I get the question:
“Mom, can we dye the eggs now?”
** sigh **
** yawn **
-- light bulb pops over my head --
“How about we play Wii together?”
“Okay!”
Bad Mom rears her ugly head again.
As of Monday at noon we still don’t have dyed Easter eggs at the house. Savannah ended up sick as a dog last night. Would it be in bad form if we made our eggs the Monday or Tuesday after Easter? Maybe Wednesday? No, I can’t Wednesday. There’s always Thursday. Hmmm…Think the dye tablets will last another year?
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