-I find the easiest way for me to pray is to be "real" with God. I don't use big words, or fancy Biblical terms- just me and God, one-on-one like bff's. ;)
-Before Junior was created, I spent a lot of time in prayer. Praying for a blessing in my belly. One thing I repeatedly told God was that I promised to return my baby to him immediately. If He would bless me with a child, I would raise that child in His name.
-While "TTC" a girlfriend of mine sent me a poem that was dear to her mother's heart. I can't remember the name of the poem, the author, or any specific quotes- but the idea stuck with me. The poem talked about how our children are in fact not really OUR children. They are God's children. We were blessed to conceive them, to carry them, and to raise them- but we must give them back, as they do not belong to us. Big stuff. At first, I thought "Man, that's gotta be hard for a pregnant woman or a new mother, or a mother of young children to read." The poem touched me and was kinda like a "poetic version" of my prayer that I had said so many times. "I promise to give this baby back to you."
-Now that I'm pregnant (AND GONNA BE A MOM IN 5 DAAAAAAAYYYYS, AAAHHH!!!!) I understand that I'm only Junior's Earthly mother- not even his creator, because without God he would never exist. For the last 9 months I have prayed and prayed and prayed for Junior. For his health, for him to be a boy (yes, I'm ashamed...), for him to turn, for a speedy/healthy birth, etc., etc. I haven't prayed much for the time after his birth, and I'm realizing now I need to FALL ON MY KNEES! (Not really in the literal sense, as it would take me a while to get back up!)
-I'd like to "blog" this prayer, make it public.
Dear Heavenly Father,
I woke up this morning to a strong, healthy, wiggly baby in my belly. You are great! I rolled over, put my arm around Reesh and smiled. You are great! I thought of my (poor) mom sleeping on the couch who You sent safely to me to be here for me during this huge time in my life. You are great! Then I almost broke my back trying to get out of the bed to pee and thought...You are funny! :) I'm sorry for falling asleep on you again last night- I'm really thinking I should get an earlier start with the whole prayer thing- but I know you understand. Lord, I am so thankful to have my mother here. And after my morning yesterday, she couldn't have come at a better time- you planned it like that, didn't you?
Lord, I want to lift Junior up to you this morning. I know that Reesh and I (and our families) have been blessed with this little angel, and like I've said before, I promise to do everything I can to raise him in your name. But I need some help along the way, because I know I'm not perfect and I'm still trying to grow, myself. Lord, I pray that Junior will know nothing but love from us. I pray for patience, acceptance, and guidance for each member of our growing family. I pray that we are kind and caring to each other, and when we're not- because there will be times, God please help to remind us how special and important we all are to each other. Lord, I pray that you and Reesh together will be a team that will be the manly role-model in Junior's life. Let him follow you two. Thank you, God, for giving Junior such an awesome Daddy. I know that Reesh will be kind and loving. He'll teach to hold doors, pull out chairs, and hang coats. He'll teach to ride a bike, hang a light, and love a woman. But, Lord, help him too as he also needs your guidance to be able to guide his children. I pray that Junior is a strong boy that will grow into a strong man, but a gentle one. A feisty little boy with grass stains on his knees who grows up to be a boo-boo kissing daddy. I pray that he is smart and funny, witty and sociable. I pray he knows little heartache in his life, but I also know a little bit will only make him stronger and seek you more. When he is ready and I have done my job right, I know he will dedicate himself to you, God. I just pray that you light that path for him and hold his hand the whole way. Lord, I ask you to keep our marriage strong and healthy and may we be good examples to our children. Help us to hold a strong bond that we'll need to raise a happy family- and let our children be aware of this. Lord, I pray there is never any doubt from a stranger that we as a family are living and learning through you. I ask that you wrap your arms around our family and keep us safe and healthy, happy and grateful. I pray, as a mom, that when things get tough or scary I am reminded not to seek the advice of friends, neighbors, or crazy people on facebook, but to consult you and have comfort in knowing I will be led to do what's right for my family. Above all else, I pray, God, that you help me do a good enough job that when I send Junior off into the world, he remembers, not necessarily to put the toilet seat down or to separate whites from colors, but how to love and live through you.
Amen.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Murphy at his finest.
"Anything that can go wrong will go wrong." - Murphy's Law
-Yesterday morning. I was blogging about how at-ease I was feeling with our current situation. Peaceful, calm. Calm....before the storm, that is.
-In the mean time, the third person in two years was coming over to look at our Mustang we had for sale. Long story short: Reesh bought a Mustang in the States back in '05. He's been trying to sell it since Spring '10 and before yesterday only two people have ever come to look at it. He was trying to sell it through a dealership as well as online himself. Someone found it through the dealership and was pretty interested so last week they came and saw it, test drove it, and were supposed to make a decision by Monday. Monday evening we got the phone call that they went with another car. Of course they did! Within 15 minutes or so after hearing that, R gets an e-mail from someone who found it online and is offering cash for the car. This guy and his wife come by yesterday (while I'm in the shower, home alone, can't answer the door) to take a look at the car. Reesh got off work early to meet this couple and within 30 minutes had shown the car, test drove it with these folks, been to the bank with a wad of € 's, deposited it, and was on his way to the post office to put the car in their names. Ya know, when one door closes another opens. But damn, the door had been slammed shut and dead bolted and opened up so fast again it hit us in the face. As I'm walking out of the door to head to my p.t. appt (I walk there every time), Reesh is heading in the door soaking wet (there was a MONSOON while he was selling the car). We go to my appt. together and are a bit shell-shocked to say the least. He's happy he sold it, didn't expect it to go so quickly, the guy paid cash, what are we gonna do now...? After my appointment we decided to celebrate and go out for dinner. The place where we sometimes go is within walking distance, but as Murphy would have it yesterday they were closed. We have a Smart car in the garage. It's pink and black. It was supposed to be my car. I was also supposed to get my Dutch driver's license. Whatever. So the car just sits there, and every now and then we'll use it. Last year it had a bunch of "health problems" and we spent more trying to repair it then the damn car is worth. Ok, so obviously this car is a sore spot. So we were gonna take the Smart out to dinner last night. Oh but it won't start up! By now I'm just hysterical with laughter. The thoughts running through my head! Here I am, full-term today. The car is sold. The back-up car, which is a TWO SEATER P.O.S., won't even start and on a good day we're 20 minutes from the hospital. Back to the casa. We live in a flat. Third story. No elevator. I'm nine friggin' months pregnant. I just walked to and from a Dr.'s appt in a winter rain storm, then stood outside in it while BD tried to revive the Smart, and now I have to walk up 3 flights of stairs. And I'm hungry. Before long, Reesh is asking our permanently inebriated neighbor to help jump start the car, which by the good grace of God works, and then he drives around to charge it a bit. Picks me up (fat ass back down the s-t-a-i-r-s!) And off to dinner. Which wasn't even good, so I won't even write about it. I will say I didn't think pork was to be eaten pink-?!? Back home. BACK UP THE STAIRS. On the couch, laptop ready, car searching. Husband breaks out in a rash. Hands, arms, neck, waist. Seriously right this second????? Two hours of that shit and we finally go to bed. At this point, I'm not sure who tossed and turned the most, who jacked the blanket more times, and who got the worst sleep, but at 7 a.m. Reesh is calling-in at work. Now let me just say- I have known him for seven years. Not ONCE has he EVER called-in (even before I knew him.) He had oral surgery a few weeks ago and went right back to work. So when he said he wasn't going today because he "broke his neck" I knew it was serious. I think between the stress and crappy sleep he must have been all tensed up and got a major crick in his neck. He can barely move his eyes, and is layed up in the bed with 14 heating pads on his head.
PLEASE, PLEASE send a prayer up, meditate, bow towards the sun, send some good juju, rub a big belly- whatever it is you do- in our name that we may find a nice, reliable, affordable vehicle in the next.....few days. And that BD can move his head later today. And that I can hold on to my sanity.
Thank you! :)
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
T Minus Fifteen
It's currently 6:49 a.m. and I've been up for the past 3 hours being totally strange.
I woke up 'cause, duh, I had to pee. (btw, I imagine myself as a troll when this happens. Hunched over in pain, waddling with one eye open, the other clinched tight, one hand on my back, one on my belly and starring in my own grunting/groaning symphony. A pair of granny-panties in a half-wedgie and a tank top that once fit. It's a wonder Reesh can keep his hands off of me at all!)
Anyway, once back in the bed I realized that AGAIN I fell asleep during my prayers. This happens everyday. I have part 1 prayer time at night. Fall asleep. And part 2 prayer time comes usually in the shower, or right before nap time when I remember I fell asleep on God. Good thing He's understanding. ;) Anyway, there's for sure enough to be praying about these days so I figured while I was awake I'd finish up my talk. Well, that took me an hour! And at the end it usually goes something like, "Alright. I feel my eyes getting heavy again- you know what this means. So, for everyone and everything I forgot to mention or am too tired to remember, you can read my heart better than you can hear my voice- so....I consider it all prayed for. Amen." He, after all, did manufacture this crazy mind of mine so I just figure He understands when I get loopy in prayer. So after an hour of praying, I felt myself getting sleepy again. (As I do now) I closed my eyes. And dang it if my phone didn't betray me with a @#$%&^ing Facebook notification. Well, my goodness...I couldn't IGNORE it. It's FACEBOOK! It's like CNN!!! It's like the Pringles logo- "Once you pop, you just can't stop." So now I'm on Facebook- on my phone- in the bed. It's about 5 a.m. now. The phone is irritating me and I get a better idea to move to the couch and get on the laptop. How is it that within 7 minutes I'm juggling 3 private message convos, commenting on someone's vacation pics, and carryin' on with my mom on her wall? There's God- shakin' His head at me again. Now Reesh is awake and getting ready for work and I feel like I may crawl back into bed (it's mine, ALL MINE!!!!) and finish this blog-business later. We'll see...
So, I want to blog about my upcoming birthing experience today. Just want to put it all out there, say how I'm feeling.
Fifteen days.
Fifteen (loooong) more days until I get to meet Prince Charming #2. Lil' P.C. Ok, I'll stop with the nicknames- he already picked up 2 more last week.
Also, last week we confirmed our Cesarean section date for the 18th of January.
Here's the deal:
Ol' Gator Chittlin' is still breech. On top of being breech, he's big. Like Sumo big, I'm assuming. Those weren't the Dr.'s words, but....I saw the look on the u.s. tech's face. What she did say was that his position was very unfavorable to him turning on his own or being successfully turned after an external version. I was left with three options, basically. To go ahead and try the version, give vaginal birth to a folded-in-half breech Sumo baby, or to have the dreaded c-section. They've recommended acupuncture, as well. Supposed to help turn the baby-?! I've read up on the whole version thing and, quite frankly, it ain't my cup o' tea. It's a bit too risky for me, painful, etc. I believe that babies are creations of God, and it's Him that guides them through 9 months (or however long) of fetal development and serves as their coach. How else do they just know to turn when they're supposed to? And the ones who don't turn? There's GOT to be a reason! They could be tangled in their cord, have it wrapped around their poor neck, the mother's pelvis could be too narrow (or broke like in my situation), the baby's head could be so large that after hours of labor they're forced into this world by emergency c-section. I mean, who knows? I just think that there's always a reason and if I allow someone to try and alter this situation manually, it could end up wrong. So, no to the needles in my pinky toe, and no to twisting my baby's head off his neck in an attempt to turn him around. I believe strongly in the human's intuition- our gut feelings. When you don't listen to that inner voice, something inadvertently always goes wrong. This is too precious of a situation for me not to listen to that feeling, and I feel so strongly against having the version done. (Maybe I'm writing this to convince myself I'm doing the right thing...) The vaginal birthing option. Uh, no. How is that even a suggestion? I could see myself birthing a leg and then being sent for an emergency c-section. What's the point?
So, as one Dr. put it, I am having an "elective Cesarean section." I was writing a girlfriend today about it (while I was Facebook multitasking) and here's what I told her (plus a bit more); Ya know, for some strange reason...I feel "okok with it all. No, not jumping for joy- but I feel like my calmness is just God telling me, "It's ok...let go, I've got ya, you big ol' spazmonkey." Seriously, I can let clumpy mascara ruin my week, yet I am totally at peace with having a c-section. Almost like this was meant to be part of my birth story. And in the end, no matter how this baby comes out- if I have to snort him out of my nose, it'll be MY birth story. And it'll be perfect. Eat that, Doctor Unibrow!
My mom will be here next week and I'm very excited to have her here! We'll get to hang out for a week before D-day! This is definitely one of those times I just....need my mom. She won't be allowed in the O.R., but I know she'll be down the hallway the whole time. Funny how in my "journey to become a mom" I've wanted my own mom a lot more often. It's hard to be so far away from family during times like these. I want to share everything with them and have them all be a part of it, but.....
I woke up 'cause, duh, I had to pee. (btw, I imagine myself as a troll when this happens. Hunched over in pain, waddling with one eye open, the other clinched tight, one hand on my back, one on my belly and starring in my own grunting/groaning symphony. A pair of granny-panties in a half-wedgie and a tank top that once fit. It's a wonder Reesh can keep his hands off of me at all!)
Anyway, once back in the bed I realized that AGAIN I fell asleep during my prayers. This happens everyday. I have part 1 prayer time at night. Fall asleep. And part 2 prayer time comes usually in the shower, or right before nap time when I remember I fell asleep on God. Good thing He's understanding. ;) Anyway, there's for sure enough to be praying about these days so I figured while I was awake I'd finish up my talk. Well, that took me an hour! And at the end it usually goes something like, "Alright. I feel my eyes getting heavy again- you know what this means. So, for everyone and everything I forgot to mention or am too tired to remember, you can read my heart better than you can hear my voice- so....I consider it all prayed for. Amen." He, after all, did manufacture this crazy mind of mine so I just figure He understands when I get loopy in prayer. So after an hour of praying, I felt myself getting sleepy again. (As I do now) I closed my eyes. And dang it if my phone didn't betray me with a @#$%&^ing Facebook notification. Well, my goodness...I couldn't IGNORE it. It's FACEBOOK! It's like CNN!!! It's like the Pringles logo- "Once you pop, you just can't stop." So now I'm on Facebook- on my phone- in the bed. It's about 5 a.m. now. The phone is irritating me and I get a better idea to move to the couch and get on the laptop. How is it that within 7 minutes I'm juggling 3 private message convos, commenting on someone's vacation pics, and carryin' on with my mom on her wall? There's God- shakin' His head at me again. Now Reesh is awake and getting ready for work and I feel like I may crawl back into bed (it's mine, ALL MINE!!!!) and finish this blog-business later. We'll see...
So, I want to blog about my upcoming birthing experience today. Just want to put it all out there, say how I'm feeling.
Fifteen days.
Fifteen (loooong) more days until I get to meet Prince Charming #2. Lil' P.C. Ok, I'll stop with the nicknames- he already picked up 2 more last week.
Also, last week we confirmed our Cesarean section date for the 18th of January.
Here's the deal:
Ol' Gator Chittlin' is still breech. On top of being breech, he's big. Like Sumo big, I'm assuming. Those weren't the Dr.'s words, but....I saw the look on the u.s. tech's face. What she did say was that his position was very unfavorable to him turning on his own or being successfully turned after an external version. I was left with three options, basically. To go ahead and try the version, give vaginal birth to a folded-in-half breech Sumo baby, or to have the dreaded c-section. They've recommended acupuncture, as well. Supposed to help turn the baby-?! I've read up on the whole version thing and, quite frankly, it ain't my cup o' tea. It's a bit too risky for me, painful, etc. I believe that babies are creations of God, and it's Him that guides them through 9 months (or however long) of fetal development and serves as their coach. How else do they just know to turn when they're supposed to? And the ones who don't turn? There's GOT to be a reason! They could be tangled in their cord, have it wrapped around their poor neck, the mother's pelvis could be too narrow (or broke like in my situation), the baby's head could be so large that after hours of labor they're forced into this world by emergency c-section. I mean, who knows? I just think that there's always a reason and if I allow someone to try and alter this situation manually, it could end up wrong. So, no to the needles in my pinky toe, and no to twisting my baby's head off his neck in an attempt to turn him around. I believe strongly in the human's intuition- our gut feelings. When you don't listen to that inner voice, something inadvertently always goes wrong. This is too precious of a situation for me not to listen to that feeling, and I feel so strongly against having the version done. (Maybe I'm writing this to convince myself I'm doing the right thing...) The vaginal birthing option. Uh, no. How is that even a suggestion? I could see myself birthing a leg and then being sent for an emergency c-section. What's the point?
So, as one Dr. put it, I am having an "elective Cesarean section." I was writing a girlfriend today about it (while I was Facebook multitasking) and here's what I told her (plus a bit more); Ya know, for some strange reason...I feel "okok with it all. No, not jumping for joy- but I feel like my calmness is just God telling me, "It's ok...let go, I've got ya, you big ol' spazmonkey." Seriously, I can let clumpy mascara ruin my week, yet I am totally at peace with having a c-section. Almost like this was meant to be part of my birth story. And in the end, no matter how this baby comes out- if I have to snort him out of my nose, it'll be MY birth story. And it'll be perfect. Eat that, Doctor Unibrow!
My mom will be here next week and I'm very excited to have her here! We'll get to hang out for a week before D-day! This is definitely one of those times I just....need my mom. She won't be allowed in the O.R., but I know she'll be down the hallway the whole time. Funny how in my "journey to become a mom" I've wanted my own mom a lot more often. It's hard to be so far away from family during times like these. I want to share everything with them and have them all be a part of it, but.....
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
My Top 25 (because 20 wasn't enough) Favorite Pregnancy Highlights
We've all heard them before. The "ins and outs" of pregnancy. The moans, groans and bitch rants of pregnant ladies. The happy tears, countless pee breaks and empty tubs of ice cream we all associate with society's most fantastic person- the expecting Mommy. I tried to pick 20 of my "favorite" pregnancy highlights to share, but was up to 25 before I knew it and had to stop myself.
Oh my Gosh, I just thought of another one and I can't change the title to 26 things because that just sounds dumb, but it's too good not to include.
Here goes: My 26 Favorite Pregnancy Highlights!
Not for the faint at heart :)
Oh, and just let me say- this is about MY pregnancy. Not yours or your sister's or your neighbor's or your bff whose pregnancy was smooth sailing. I'm not writing an educational blog on the effects of pregnancy on the mind and body. These are just my feelings/experiences/rants and I want to share. I'm not competing with anyone else who may have had better or worse experiences with gas and/or heartburn.
And another thing, I won't use all of those dumb "preggo lingo" abbreviations. As you know, my baby is Junior Gator Chittlin Frank and not "LO," "DS," or anything else retarded that people say on those pregnancy websites. But I will, because it's funny, make up my own and call Reesh "BD" cuz he do be da baby daddy! :)
What kind of example would I set for pregnant women across the globe if I didn't start right off with a complaint?
1.) If it's a body part, it can and WILL hurt!
-What's up with this anyway? Couldn't we just skip all the pain and save that for labor and delivery? Some people claim to have "been to the end" and come back. Well, I haven't exactly "seen the light" yet (though close many times) but I swear I've been to 70 and back! I feel just like Lois in the old "I've fallen and can't get up" commercial. Do you honestly know how bad every pregnant lady secretly wants to snatch up one of those automatic "sit n shop" carts at the front of Wal Mart? Well, I may have been the first to admit it, but let me tell ya...walking from the car to the old lady store greeter is enough to do you in for the day. And how is it she stands there for a whole shift with a smile on her face, and I'm 3 times younger and can hardly make it through the front door? This is what I'm talking about. I have also had tremendous pelvic pain since about week 25. All of my below-the-belt bones feel like they've been crushed with a jack hammer. Sitting, standing, laying, walking, sleeping....hell, my pelvis hurts just blogging. My back feels like I've been giving free piggy-back rides to all the fat kids at the carnival all week long. My legs are achy. Yest day while standing perfectly still to hang a calender on the wall I did some kind of freaky knee-popping thing that has me all wobbly this morning. It would just be nice to feel youthful again- bouncy, springing, care-free. Now I just waddle and hold my back everywhere I go. :)
2.) Chewbacca
-In the 6th grade I kind of liked this big-eared boy named Matt. Until he was making fun of my name one day in band class and called me Chewbacca (because that SO sounds like Rebecca.....) At the time I had no idea who Chewbacca was. Here I am 14 years later blogging about Chewbacca and actually looking like him too! WTH with the hair, seriously? My family has a little Italian blood running through us so it's not totally uncommon that we all need to get a little lip-waxin' every now and then. Who doesn't, right? Seriously, these days I can shave my legs in the a.m. and have a five o'clock shadow by lunch! It's not even worth it- I don't have stock invested in Venus, I'll shave my legs when I feel like it. Or when I have to go to my p.t. appointments, haha. Ya know the blonde fuzzy "happy trail" you noticed you had at the beach last summer? BTW, WHY do you always notice body hair when you're in a bikini or checking yourself out in the rear-view car mirror you see that your mustache/eyebrows/sideburns are in fact much worse than you thought?!?!?! Anyway, my blonde fuzzy happy trail metamorphosed into a much darker, longer than fuzz, "it ain't no trail- you got off the beaten path and you is lost in the forest somewhere, and you ain't happy" trail. I have nothing else to say about this.
3.) Buddha
-While we're name-calling here, let's not forget this one! It is my opinion that everyone that who has ever been pregnant has felt like Buddha at least once in her 9 months of glory. For some reason there exists a gravitational force between a pregnant belly and the hands of the people who are talking to her. I'm the world's worst! I just wanna do the "wax on, wax off" with every pregnant belly I see! They're just so cute!!! And while I know I've made many women feel uncomfortable, I don't really care. You're pregnant, folks gonna be touchin' the belly- get over it. HOWEVER, before I got the slightest hint of a belly (besides the beer belly I was making progress on), people were still groping and grabbing me. Really? Does it make you feel better to grab a nice handful of my fat roll? That baby is still tucked neatly behind my pubic bone somewhere, and meanwhile you're being an asshole with a hand full of my belly pudge! Now, I can honestly say I am proud of my belly and I like it when people touch it. It makes me feel good. "Yeah...that's MY huge belly. And MY baby is in there. And you've got a smile on your face from touching it." It makes me feel good. So go ahead, if you see me out, and rub the Buddha belly. This leads me to number four......
4.) Body Love <3
-I get it. The skanky, naked maternity pictures. These women just feel great about themselves! No, I don't condone taking these types of pictures, and have not done so myself, but I get it. I just know that while I may feel great naked, I might not LOOK so great naked and not everyone on Pinterest wants to see my naked ass posed with BD lookin' like we're trying to make another baby- seriously, go check out maternity photos on Pinterest if you don't know what I'm talking about. Why, 8 months ago did I not feel this confident about my body as I do now lookin' like Large Marge? I would have no inhibitions about prancing around in a bikini at almost 9 months pregnant! )But I won't.... and only because it's too cold to. ;)
5.) Mother Hen Syndrome
-It starts before someone picks on your preschooler at the playground. It's the funniest thing, but I've come up with scenarios in my head about anytime in Junior's life that something may not go right and I'm already planning my attack. BD says I'm ridiculous. Why am I even fussing about such things already? I just find myself daydreaming about ol' Gator Chittlin' and thinking about what he's going to be like when he's a bit older and then things like his first scraped knee, his first hurt feeling and his first broken heart make me feel like psycho Hulk Mama. I didn't know these feelings would come so soon- he's not even here yet! :) Yes, I will be schizo-actin'-soccer-mom on the sideline of all of his ball games, yet PTA president-cupcake-master at the bake-sale. Just wait. I will run you over with my mini-van if you even look at my child crazy. Now I'm all worked up- maybe this is why Reesh tells me to not think about things like that yet....
6.) Nobody Cares. This is speaking very general, but.....
-You pee on a stick. You get two pink lines. You announce it on Facebook. This is the world we live in. All 468 (shame on you if you have this many, and smack yourself on the wrist if you have more) of your facebook "friends" see your post. All 7 of them who actually have a clue about your life will more than likely not respond to your "I'm preggo" post because since they matter you already called them up on the telephone to tell them. The other 461 will religiously stalk your shit down trying to get some info. Are you married? Oh, you got knocked-up. Is this the same BD as your last three? Were you "trying" or was this an "accident?" Bitch needs some birth control. Ewe, I hope the baby looks like the daddy. ABOUT TIME! Again, already? I thought you were gay!? These people could give 2 shits less about your pregnancy. And out of the 7 you thought did, think again. Folks is just straight nosey! For the next nine months your world will revolve around you and your precious womb hi-jacker, and naturally that'll be all you want to talk about. Pat yourself on the back if you have THREE good people who will regularly check up on you and be genuinely interested in this weeks pregnancy symptoms. People get pregnant every day. As much as you feel YOUR story/pregnancy/baby is the most special, and while it is to you, the majority of your social circle could care less.
7.) Sex
-Barf me. Then go read #1, #2, #11 and #12 :)
8.) Shower time- what a douche! Hehe
-Excuse me if you've never been to Europe and was offended by my #8 title, Google it.
My daily shower has turned into a circus act. Or maybe the freak act at the circus. Our bathroom is strange- it has the whole bathtub/shower combo on one side and directly opposite a stand-up shower. Not sure I'll ever understand that, but ok- it's working in my advantage. We never used the stand-up shower until recently. Our bathtub sits up so high that when you step out of it you really need to have mad skills not to break your neck. So when I got pregnant Reesh banned me from the bathtub shower and sent me to the other side of the bathroom to the lame shower. Pretty soon a whole new set of problems arose. I was getting bigger, the shower was seeming smaller, and if I were to ever shave my legs again something had to give. SO, BD bought me one of those small Rubbermaid foot stools to sit on while I was in the shower- after all, after my #7 he'd be happy with just smooth legs these days. :) Now I've gotten to the point where I just completely shower while sitting on this foot stool. Here's some TMI for you: Ya know, everyone and their neighbor has a look downstairs while you're pregnant. Even my physical therapist, as you know, has seen more than my midwife. So keeping yourself tidy is a must. But how do you do that when you can't see anything? And for some reason, waxing is taboo in the NL, of ALL places in the world!!! Anyway, in an attempt to groom recently- God, it's a good thing my shower walls can't talk, I successfully gave myself below-the-belt crop circles, crotch circles as I will forever remember them. I had stubble on one corner, mohawk on the other, nothing on top, and razor burn just under that. It looked like the neighborhood shrubs in Edward Scissor Hands after Edward moved in. *deep sigh*
9.) Sober Hangovers
-How is it possible that you haven't had any big girl drinks and you feel like you would had you stayed out 'till 4 painting the town red? Pregnancy nausea is like having the worst permanent hangover and you don't even have trashy Myspace pictures to show for it. It's horrible! I had the permanent hangover feeling until my 17th week. It's worse than anyone told me it would be. And believe me, if you feel the need to up-chuck, do it! It's an immediate relief....for the next 2 hours at least. Oh, and nothing helps. No ginger tea, peppermints, preggy-pops, small meals, water, taking a nap, nada! The only thing that helped me not die was never letting myself get hungry and not getting overly warm. Other than that, it's a horrible wave you have to ride out until it's over. Which isn't gonna be at 12 weeks like everyone tells you. Have you hugged your toilet today?
10.) Buy maternity clothes. Wear sweatpants.
-Seriously, I understand you've gotta have clothes to wear outside the house. Well, unless you live in the States- then you can go everywhere in your sweatpants. If I pulled that shit over here, I'd be deported on the next boat. Over sized sweatpants are bringing sexy back. If you're at home and you're wearing jeans or anything uncomfortable...you're wrong!
*WITH THAT BEING SAID, I feel like pregnant women should take EXTRA care to look cute in public. Yeah, lemme be shallow for a minute. We're humans. We judge. And if you're pregnant and you're roaming the aisles of the Piggly Wiggly and you're wearing your husband's p.t. sweats and an XL Disney character t-shirt, people are gonna talk smack. And rightly so. Being large and uncomfortable doesn't mean you have to look that way. Get it together ladies- take those Crocs off and get your roots colored!
11.) You've got a little...yeah, on your shirt...right there.
-Anything that can leak, will. ANYTHING.
12.) WTF is that and WHERE did it come from?
- Skin tags, stretch marks and nipples, oh my! I'll start with the nipples...because in my case that's where it started. They say one of your first clues to pregnancy can be sore and/or enlarged breasts. I never had sore boobs with Aunt Flo and it didn't seem to start with pregnancy either. I had somewhat sensitive nipples in the beginning- which was odd for me because normally you could hook 'em up to jumper cables and I'd barely flinch. But the nipples took the cake! Is it necessary that they get THAT big? I already have huge knockers and now my nipples are competing for size. I was glad for them to darken up a bit as they were so light in color before you had to do a double-take to make sure I had any. ;) Now they're like giant bulls-eyes....which btw, is totally the point I know, I just didn't expect them to get so big! Skin tags- barf! I have TWO on the inside, yes the inside, of my bellybutton. How does that even happen? And now that that sucker is a "halfie" instead of a real deep "innie" the skin tags seem to have beaming lights emitting from them- "LOOK! LOOK!" ugh! I also have a horrible scar on top of my belly button where my oh-so cute tummy used to be pierced. I had it pierced for about 12 years and I think the hole is still open. But it has stretched along with my belly and it looks horrible! :( Stretch marks- hmm. At about 16 weeks I started noticing these tiny reddish/purplish marks on the outsides of my hips. I thought they were blood vessels (shut up) until my mom labelled them as "stretch marks." So far that was it, a few on my hips- bad, but not so horrible. UNTIL LAST NIGHT while BD was feeling my tummy and pointed out one all the way on the bottom of my stomach. No wonder I hadn't seen it- I can't see past my belly button scar and skin tags. I guess I'm not above the pregnancy law, but it was nice being at the end and not having any marks on my belly. :/ This is me at 33 weeks-
13.) BD is pregnant!
-As if there wasn't enough bitching going around, Reesh is totally pregnant in every way. In the beginning, he'd feel tired for no reason. "I just feel out of it," he'd say. When my bladder took off in full force, HE was the one waking up sometimes twice in one night to go to the bathroom. Really? His back hurts, he doesn't feel good, he's tired....blah blah blah. Can I not have my own nine months to shine by myself? At around 10 weeks or so I googled "My husband is pregnant." Article after article, blog after blog, I read about women's pregnant husbands. There's even a term for this bull. "Sympathy Pregnancy" in layman's terms. Get it together guys, we are not paying you any attention! Here's Reesh and Booger with the fetal doppler....
14.) Play-dates
-I want all of my kidless friends to go get knocked-up RAT NA! I need to be planning Jr.'s social life and how I am supposed to do if no one will get pregnant? Haha. Seriously, I have a small group of girlfriends here (and my SIL- ooooh I hope she doesn't read this!) who need to get on it (or get it on...whichever)! I want to be able to have play dates and swap parenting stories with these chicks. Who am I supposed to gossip with at the playground? :)
15.) Lose it. And don't be ashamed.
-We all know pregnancy and emotions are like "love and marriage- you can't have one without the other!" Sorry, I had to. But it's worse than I had anticipated. I am already the drama llama, but I have surprised even myself with my outbursts lately. And I don't mean "look at me wrong and I turn into the uni-bomber" outbursts...but I just can't keep it together lately. Reference my previous blog entry "Duvet Dismay." I can't even think of Junior sometimes without losing it. It's like I have no emotional coping skills anymore- I cry about everything. I cried when BD found the stretch mark on my belly last night. I cried two days before that on his birthday when I hugged him and told him I was happy he was born 28 years ago. I get choked up at least once a day by someone's Facebook status. I'm sure I'll be in tears before I'm done writing this blog.
16.) Laugh until you cry. Cry until you piss your sweatpants. Piss your sweatpants until you hyperventilate.
-This follows up #15. I can't tell you how many times this has happened. We've all laughed until we've cried. But this...this pregnancy version of that is just plain cruel. And the worst part is having to take off those favorite sweatpants to wash them. Sometimes Reesh will get me laughing so hard and it quickly turns bad. Not just laughing and having tears at the same time, but bawling! And snotting. And straight up belting out in the "ugly cry." Then BD gets a scared look on his face, not knowing whether to keep laughing, laugh harder at this ridiculous situation, or console me because by this point I can't breathe.
17.) I'm gonna wash my own mouth out with soap.
-No, not because I have a potty mouth. Because I keep saying and thinking things that sound just like my mother. Gulp. I'm starting to think like a mom, which is a good thing- but I'm sounding just like my own mom. Which isn't a horrible thing, but we all swore it won't happen to us- and then it does.
18.) "If that were my kid, I'd...."
-Ya know, before you have kids (and even other parents are guilty) you find yourself pointing out faults in everyone's parenting styles. Reesh and I are no-less guilty. We are constantly critiquing people we see in public and how they handle their children. OF COURSE, we always know better! We'd always handle the situation a bit more maturely, and we'd never allow our children to make us that angry. Of course, this will change in just a few years when we're screaming and threatening the lives of our children in the McDonald's drive-thru. But for now, it's fun to play pretend perfect parents with pretend perfect kids. We know we're wrong, and we admit it.
19.) I knew I loved you, but...
- There's something about Reesh being my BD that makes me fall in love with him all over again. I find myself just looking at him sometimes and picturing him playing with our kids (OH GOD, I knew I wouldn't make it through this blog without shedding a tear!) and it fills my heart with joy! He's such a great friend/husband/son/colleague I just know he'll be the sweetest daddy! He gets the biggest smile on his face when we talk about Junior and it just makes me so darn grateful to have such a good good man! I hope to be as sweet to him as he always is to me- and after you read #7, the least I can do is be sweet and shave my legs, right? I love you, Reesh!
20.) Even I have heard enough...
-Sometimes, I get tired of hearing my own complaints. My back hurts, my pelvis hurts, I have battery acid in my throat and chest, I can't breathe, I'm tired, I don't feel so hot, I'm fat, I'm ugly, my face is breaking out, I'm irritated, why are you looking at me like that? Even I wanna shove a cork in it every now and then.
21.) Name-Calling
-Choosing your baby's name. And if your BD is European (or otherwise strange) guarding that name like it's the Holy Grail. You didn't really think we were naming our baby Junior Gator Chittlin' Frank, did you? Jr. does have a name...like a real one. Deciding on a name was fairly simple for us. We made two lists- one for a girl, and one for a boy. Each list was narrowed down to about 5 names by the time we learned the sex. After that we just...chose one we liked. At first we chose another name, used it for a day and then changed it to the name we're using now. Jr. will have TWO middle names, which are both family names. Not sure how this works if the poor child ever wants to learn to spell his name or have anything with a monogram on it..? Anyway, BD gave in and let me announce the baby's gender but is holding firm to saving the name until his birth. I haven't felt the urge once to tell anyone his name- unusual for me. I did tell the dude from Etsy who made some vinyl wall art with his name on it- shoot me. My only concern is that since I've referred to Jr. as...JUNIOR for the entire pregnancy, I might feel strange calling him by his real name. Maybe he'll always just be Junior. <3
22.) Decorating and shopping- not that I'm listing strengths and weaknesses here....
-This has been SO MUCH FUN! We started so early, and boy am I glad we did. I don't understand how people wait until the last minute to start decorating a nursery or shopping for baby-musts. This mess ain't cheap! We have been blessed with 9 whole months to prepare for our little ones- we should take advantage of it, 'cause we need it! I can't tell you how many times Reesh and I have went and layed down on the floor in the nursery and just talked, laughed, daydreamt. Setting up the nursery together has been so special! We've created this little miracle together and now we've created a perfect little place for him to live and feel comfortable in. We love looking at all of his tiny little things- and we still ooh and ahh over them every time! I can't wait to have Jr. in his room!!!
I WILL SAY....coming up for a theme for the nursery and picking out a crib set was a beeyotch! I almost needed anti-depressants to get me through it. This is my first baby- I want everything to be perfect! All themes/colors/bed sets were too dark, too light, too sporty, too girly, too many animals, not enough patterns, cheap looking, too expensive, too much green, not enough blue, no cute factor....I almost lost my mind! Jr. is a very lucky boy that his mom found something she liked because she almost threw him in a sleeping bag. Haha, no...not really. But I was afraid I might have had to if I couldn't find anything. It all came together and after MONTHS of searching, I went and ordered the first set I ever looked at. I know, &*^% %^&*$# *&^%* !!!!!!!!! We ordered some cuuuuuuute vinyl wall decals from Etsy, a few final touches, and voila- super sweet, super cute nursery. Just enough cute factor, not over the top, soft colors, different patterns, crisp, babyish but not too babyish, playful but not toddlerish- it all worked out. Thank God- it wasn't looking good for my sanity for a while.
23.) Fooooooooood!
-"FOOD" needs a new definition while pregnant. Eating becomes more than just eating. In the beginning, you're sick as hell, you're lucky to eat anything! Then, whenever you can pull it together to eat a meal you have this long list of things you can't eat or you'll kill your baby. Sandwich meat? Really? I will just say the scaring antics work- I am 35 weeks and have yet to eat a piece of cold deli meat this entire pregnancy. I was so sick at one point I was roaming the aisles of the grocery store gagging my poor heart out just looking at all the food. I went home with a small tub of chocolate mousse that night and that's what I had for dinner. And it wasn't just a one-time deal. I LOVE veggies! Love 'em! The thought of putting anything remotely green in my mouth was enough to do me in. So, thank you prenatal vitamins, for giving my body everything that chocolate mousse couldn't. When I was over the nausea I wanted to eat everything in sight. Mostly comfort and junk foods. I wanted three plates of biscuits and gravy, fried chicken, Tex-Mex, bacon, gumbo, melted cheeeeese on anything, and a side order of jalapenos with everything! I went home for 5 weeks during the end of my 2nd trimester and ATE LIKE A CAVEMAN WITH NO SHAME! I had my share of everything southern, fried, and grease-tastic to include homemade biscuits and gravy (tomato and sausage), fried fish and all the fixins, and pounds and pounds of chitterlings! Yes, that's why 'Chittlin' is part of Jr.'s name. Collard greens (and the pot liquor), dump cake, baked beans, coleslaw, brisket, liver & gizzards....y'all I'm feelin' real ghetto right now, but it was SO good and comforting. Going to Alabama for those 5 weeks was like a soul revival, lol. Along with all the lard came bouts of heartburn. But I've learned that Crisco and water in equal amounts will give you equal amounts of heartburn- I ain't fidna lick no celery stick for dinner!
24.) Fee-fi-fo-fum I smell.....everything!
-May the superpowers of the super nose be granted to every pregnant lady! Seriously, I can smell my own thoughts these days. I could've received a side job with the K-9 unit these last few months. When nausea was dominating my life, this sucked big time. The smell of the fridge was one thing....I just opened it and got what I needed in record speed. The smell of the dishwasher....that's something I don't even like to talk about anymore. I'm pretty sure I managed to stack dishes up on the counter for a good 2 months- not that I had 2 month's worth of dirty dishes laying around, but for 2 months Reesh had to load and empty the darn thing. I just couldn't handle that metallic-lemon...ugh, you know what I mean...the dishwasher smell. And you know when a glass has been in the dishwasher and it's almost like the glass is porous and soaks in a bit of that scent? You go to drink from it and you smell and taste the dishwasher- %&*&%$#%&!!!!!! Any military wives reading this? You know the military smell? Your husband's flight suit/ACU'S/whatever he wears smells like this everyday when he comes home. I secretly love that smell- reminds me of being little and my dad coming home and his BDU's always smelled like that. But anyway, that same smell that always made me feel good was making me feel like I had just sniffed the crypt keeper. I'm not sure I ever expressed it to BD in quite those words, but...that's how I really felt. One time the pantry made me sick. The smell of the cans/cardboard boxes...something had me running out and I barely made it to the kitchen sink. COFFEE! Coffee was forbidden in our house for a while. If Reesh was gonna drink coffee he had to do so on the other side of the house and not kiss me until the next day. I'm not a coffee drinker myself, but usually enjoy the smell- who doesn't right? Pregnant me. That's who doesn't.
25.) Modesty? Oh, I checked mine at the door.
-I'd always heard once you had a baby all modesty goes out the window. For me it started once I decided to get pregnant. Things didn't go as planned and we ended up using fertility treatment. This meant 2 times a week sometimes heading to the OBGYN and getting the dildo-cam treatment. If it's not bad enough having to do that, the thing is totally phallic and they even use a condom and lube. But ok, we got pregnant- that's the important part. Right back to the dildo-cam to confirm pregnancy, and then again a few weeks later for a check-up. Then it's getting shots in the ass, spreading your legs open as far as you can for your p.t. while laying on your back and in your undies, and I haven't even had this baby yet!
26.) O Sandman, Sandman! Wherefore art thou Sandman?
-In my first trimester I had some real sucky sleep. I chalked that up to all the crazy thoughts and emotions I was having- should be normal. That only lasted a few weeks really, and since then I have slept like an angel. Until a few weeks ago. I guess the typical third trimester shit sleep has arrived, yay. I've been sleeping with a different multitude of pillows for the past few months- pregnancy pillow, body pillow, and now King-sized pillow. The problem is I HAVE to have some kind of pillow between my knees because of the pelvic pain- but I sleep so crazy I roll over a hundred times a night and I have to take the darn pillow with me, readjust, and then fall back asleep. Because of my pelvic pain I am grunting and groaning every time I roll over, so I wake BD up and then we both have a cruddy night. And then sometimes, the pillow gets intertwined between both our long legs and I have to fight to get it back. Once all of that has happened, I'm awake and then have to pee. Once back in the bed I can't get comfortable- If I lay on my left side I squish Jr. If I lay on my right side I have to deal with nose-breath on me. I can't stand nose breath!!! On top of all of this I am 30 degrees hotter than I've ever been- so we sleep with the window open. In the dead of winter, in Europe...we're sleeping with the window open. Almost every night I end up getting up to close the window because it's raining in the bedroom. Then there's the dreams. The dreeeeeeeams. I've had dreams that would make Jenna Jameson blush! The kind where you're almost scared to go to sleep again the next night. ;)
I've written way more than I should have and I could've kept going, but I'll leave you here for now. There's sure to be more pregnancy-blogging in my future. Hope I didn't offend anyone- I'm just keeping it real. And anyway, what did you expect to find behind the title of this post? ;)
Oh my Gosh, I just thought of another one and I can't change the title to 26 things because that just sounds dumb, but it's too good not to include.
Here goes: My 26 Favorite Pregnancy Highlights!
Not for the faint at heart :)
Oh, and just let me say- this is about MY pregnancy. Not yours or your sister's or your neighbor's or your bff whose pregnancy was smooth sailing. I'm not writing an educational blog on the effects of pregnancy on the mind and body. These are just my feelings/experiences/rants and I want to share. I'm not competing with anyone else who may have had better or worse experiences with gas and/or heartburn.
And another thing, I won't use all of those dumb "preggo lingo" abbreviations. As you know, my baby is Junior Gator Chittlin Frank and not "LO," "DS," or anything else retarded that people say on those pregnancy websites. But I will, because it's funny, make up my own and call Reesh "BD" cuz he do be da baby daddy! :)
What kind of example would I set for pregnant women across the globe if I didn't start right off with a complaint?
1.) If it's a body part, it can and WILL hurt!
-What's up with this anyway? Couldn't we just skip all the pain and save that for labor and delivery? Some people claim to have "been to the end" and come back. Well, I haven't exactly "seen the light" yet (though close many times) but I swear I've been to 70 and back! I feel just like Lois in the old "I've fallen and can't get up" commercial. Do you honestly know how bad every pregnant lady secretly wants to snatch up one of those automatic "sit n shop" carts at the front of Wal Mart? Well, I may have been the first to admit it, but let me tell ya...walking from the car to the old lady store greeter is enough to do you in for the day. And how is it she stands there for a whole shift with a smile on her face, and I'm 3 times younger and can hardly make it through the front door? This is what I'm talking about. I have also had tremendous pelvic pain since about week 25. All of my below-the-belt bones feel like they've been crushed with a jack hammer. Sitting, standing, laying, walking, sleeping....hell, my pelvis hurts just blogging. My back feels like I've been giving free piggy-back rides to all the fat kids at the carnival all week long. My legs are achy. Yest day while standing perfectly still to hang a calender on the wall I did some kind of freaky knee-popping thing that has me all wobbly this morning. It would just be nice to feel youthful again- bouncy, springing, care-free. Now I just waddle and hold my back everywhere I go. :)
2.) Chewbacca
-In the 6th grade I kind of liked this big-eared boy named Matt. Until he was making fun of my name one day in band class and called me Chewbacca (because that SO sounds like Rebecca.....) At the time I had no idea who Chewbacca was. Here I am 14 years later blogging about Chewbacca and actually looking like him too! WTH with the hair, seriously? My family has a little Italian blood running through us so it's not totally uncommon that we all need to get a little lip-waxin' every now and then. Who doesn't, right? Seriously, these days I can shave my legs in the a.m. and have a five o'clock shadow by lunch! It's not even worth it- I don't have stock invested in Venus, I'll shave my legs when I feel like it. Or when I have to go to my p.t. appointments, haha. Ya know the blonde fuzzy "happy trail" you noticed you had at the beach last summer? BTW, WHY do you always notice body hair when you're in a bikini or checking yourself out in the rear-view car mirror you see that your mustache/eyebrows/sideburns are in fact much worse than you thought?!?!?! Anyway, my blonde fuzzy happy trail metamorphosed into a much darker, longer than fuzz, "it ain't no trail- you got off the beaten path and you is lost in the forest somewhere, and you ain't happy" trail. I have nothing else to say about this.
3.) Buddha
-While we're name-calling here, let's not forget this one! It is my opinion that everyone that who has ever been pregnant has felt like Buddha at least once in her 9 months of glory. For some reason there exists a gravitational force between a pregnant belly and the hands of the people who are talking to her. I'm the world's worst! I just wanna do the "wax on, wax off" with every pregnant belly I see! They're just so cute!!! And while I know I've made many women feel uncomfortable, I don't really care. You're pregnant, folks gonna be touchin' the belly- get over it. HOWEVER, before I got the slightest hint of a belly (besides the beer belly I was making progress on), people were still groping and grabbing me. Really? Does it make you feel better to grab a nice handful of my fat roll? That baby is still tucked neatly behind my pubic bone somewhere, and meanwhile you're being an asshole with a hand full of my belly pudge! Now, I can honestly say I am proud of my belly and I like it when people touch it. It makes me feel good. "Yeah...that's MY huge belly. And MY baby is in there. And you've got a smile on your face from touching it." It makes me feel good. So go ahead, if you see me out, and rub the Buddha belly. This leads me to number four......
4.) Body Love <3
-I get it. The skanky, naked maternity pictures. These women just feel great about themselves! No, I don't condone taking these types of pictures, and have not done so myself, but I get it. I just know that while I may feel great naked, I might not LOOK so great naked and not everyone on Pinterest wants to see my naked ass posed with BD lookin' like we're trying to make another baby- seriously, go check out maternity photos on Pinterest if you don't know what I'm talking about. Why, 8 months ago did I not feel this confident about my body as I do now lookin' like Large Marge? I would have no inhibitions about prancing around in a bikini at almost 9 months pregnant! )But I won't.... and only because it's too cold to. ;)
5.) Mother Hen Syndrome
-It starts before someone picks on your preschooler at the playground. It's the funniest thing, but I've come up with scenarios in my head about anytime in Junior's life that something may not go right and I'm already planning my attack. BD says I'm ridiculous. Why am I even fussing about such things already? I just find myself daydreaming about ol' Gator Chittlin' and thinking about what he's going to be like when he's a bit older and then things like his first scraped knee, his first hurt feeling and his first broken heart make me feel like psycho Hulk Mama. I didn't know these feelings would come so soon- he's not even here yet! :) Yes, I will be schizo-actin'-soccer-mom on the sideline of all of his ball games, yet PTA president-cupcake-master at the bake-sale. Just wait. I will run you over with my mini-van if you even look at my child crazy. Now I'm all worked up- maybe this is why Reesh tells me to not think about things like that yet....
6.) Nobody Cares. This is speaking very general, but.....
-You pee on a stick. You get two pink lines. You announce it on Facebook. This is the world we live in. All 468 (shame on you if you have this many, and smack yourself on the wrist if you have more) of your facebook "friends" see your post. All 7 of them who actually have a clue about your life will more than likely not respond to your "I'm preggo" post because since they matter you already called them up on the telephone to tell them. The other 461 will religiously stalk your shit down trying to get some info. Are you married? Oh, you got knocked-up. Is this the same BD as your last three? Were you "trying" or was this an "accident?" Bitch needs some birth control. Ewe, I hope the baby looks like the daddy. ABOUT TIME! Again, already? I thought you were gay!? These people could give 2 shits less about your pregnancy. And out of the 7 you thought did, think again. Folks is just straight nosey! For the next nine months your world will revolve around you and your precious womb hi-jacker, and naturally that'll be all you want to talk about. Pat yourself on the back if you have THREE good people who will regularly check up on you and be genuinely interested in this weeks pregnancy symptoms. People get pregnant every day. As much as you feel YOUR story/pregnancy/baby is the most special, and while it is to you, the majority of your social circle could care less.
7.) Sex
-Barf me. Then go read #1, #2, #11 and #12 :)
8.) Shower time- what a douche! Hehe
-Excuse me if you've never been to Europe and was offended by my #8 title, Google it.
My daily shower has turned into a circus act. Or maybe the freak act at the circus. Our bathroom is strange- it has the whole bathtub/shower combo on one side and directly opposite a stand-up shower. Not sure I'll ever understand that, but ok- it's working in my advantage. We never used the stand-up shower until recently. Our bathtub sits up so high that when you step out of it you really need to have mad skills not to break your neck. So when I got pregnant Reesh banned me from the bathtub shower and sent me to the other side of the bathroom to the lame shower. Pretty soon a whole new set of problems arose. I was getting bigger, the shower was seeming smaller, and if I were to ever shave my legs again something had to give. SO, BD bought me one of those small Rubbermaid foot stools to sit on while I was in the shower- after all, after my #7 he'd be happy with just smooth legs these days. :) Now I've gotten to the point where I just completely shower while sitting on this foot stool. Here's some TMI for you: Ya know, everyone and their neighbor has a look downstairs while you're pregnant. Even my physical therapist, as you know, has seen more than my midwife. So keeping yourself tidy is a must. But how do you do that when you can't see anything? And for some reason, waxing is taboo in the NL, of ALL places in the world!!! Anyway, in an attempt to groom recently- God, it's a good thing my shower walls can't talk, I successfully gave myself below-the-belt crop circles, crotch circles as I will forever remember them. I had stubble on one corner, mohawk on the other, nothing on top, and razor burn just under that. It looked like the neighborhood shrubs in Edward Scissor Hands after Edward moved in. *deep sigh*
9.) Sober Hangovers
-How is it possible that you haven't had any big girl drinks and you feel like you would had you stayed out 'till 4 painting the town red? Pregnancy nausea is like having the worst permanent hangover and you don't even have trashy Myspace pictures to show for it. It's horrible! I had the permanent hangover feeling until my 17th week. It's worse than anyone told me it would be. And believe me, if you feel the need to up-chuck, do it! It's an immediate relief....for the next 2 hours at least. Oh, and nothing helps. No ginger tea, peppermints, preggy-pops, small meals, water, taking a nap, nada! The only thing that helped me not die was never letting myself get hungry and not getting overly warm. Other than that, it's a horrible wave you have to ride out until it's over. Which isn't gonna be at 12 weeks like everyone tells you. Have you hugged your toilet today?
10.) Buy maternity clothes. Wear sweatpants.
-Seriously, I understand you've gotta have clothes to wear outside the house. Well, unless you live in the States- then you can go everywhere in your sweatpants. If I pulled that shit over here, I'd be deported on the next boat. Over sized sweatpants are bringing sexy back. If you're at home and you're wearing jeans or anything uncomfortable...you're wrong!
*WITH THAT BEING SAID, I feel like pregnant women should take EXTRA care to look cute in public. Yeah, lemme be shallow for a minute. We're humans. We judge. And if you're pregnant and you're roaming the aisles of the Piggly Wiggly and you're wearing your husband's p.t. sweats and an XL Disney character t-shirt, people are gonna talk smack. And rightly so. Being large and uncomfortable doesn't mean you have to look that way. Get it together ladies- take those Crocs off and get your roots colored!
11.) You've got a little...yeah, on your shirt...right there.
-Anything that can leak, will. ANYTHING.
12.) WTF is that and WHERE did it come from?
- Skin tags, stretch marks and nipples, oh my! I'll start with the nipples...because in my case that's where it started. They say one of your first clues to pregnancy can be sore and/or enlarged breasts. I never had sore boobs with Aunt Flo and it didn't seem to start with pregnancy either. I had somewhat sensitive nipples in the beginning- which was odd for me because normally you could hook 'em up to jumper cables and I'd barely flinch. But the nipples took the cake! Is it necessary that they get THAT big? I already have huge knockers and now my nipples are competing for size. I was glad for them to darken up a bit as they were so light in color before you had to do a double-take to make sure I had any. ;) Now they're like giant bulls-eyes....which btw, is totally the point I know, I just didn't expect them to get so big! Skin tags- barf! I have TWO on the inside, yes the inside, of my bellybutton. How does that even happen? And now that that sucker is a "halfie" instead of a real deep "innie" the skin tags seem to have beaming lights emitting from them- "LOOK! LOOK!" ugh! I also have a horrible scar on top of my belly button where my oh-so cute tummy used to be pierced. I had it pierced for about 12 years and I think the hole is still open. But it has stretched along with my belly and it looks horrible! :( Stretch marks- hmm. At about 16 weeks I started noticing these tiny reddish/purplish marks on the outsides of my hips. I thought they were blood vessels (shut up) until my mom labelled them as "stretch marks." So far that was it, a few on my hips- bad, but not so horrible. UNTIL LAST NIGHT while BD was feeling my tummy and pointed out one all the way on the bottom of my stomach. No wonder I hadn't seen it- I can't see past my belly button scar and skin tags. I guess I'm not above the pregnancy law, but it was nice being at the end and not having any marks on my belly. :/ This is me at 33 weeks-
13.) BD is pregnant!
-As if there wasn't enough bitching going around, Reesh is totally pregnant in every way. In the beginning, he'd feel tired for no reason. "I just feel out of it," he'd say. When my bladder took off in full force, HE was the one waking up sometimes twice in one night to go to the bathroom. Really? His back hurts, he doesn't feel good, he's tired....blah blah blah. Can I not have my own nine months to shine by myself? At around 10 weeks or so I googled "My husband is pregnant." Article after article, blog after blog, I read about women's pregnant husbands. There's even a term for this bull. "Sympathy Pregnancy" in layman's terms. Get it together guys, we are not paying you any attention! Here's Reesh and Booger with the fetal doppler....
14.) Play-dates
-I want all of my kidless friends to go get knocked-up RAT NA! I need to be planning Jr.'s social life and how I am supposed to do if no one will get pregnant? Haha. Seriously, I have a small group of girlfriends here (and my SIL- ooooh I hope she doesn't read this!) who need to get on it (or get it on...whichever)! I want to be able to have play dates and swap parenting stories with these chicks. Who am I supposed to gossip with at the playground? :)
15.) Lose it. And don't be ashamed.
-We all know pregnancy and emotions are like "love and marriage- you can't have one without the other!" Sorry, I had to. But it's worse than I had anticipated. I am already the drama llama, but I have surprised even myself with my outbursts lately. And I don't mean "look at me wrong and I turn into the uni-bomber" outbursts...but I just can't keep it together lately. Reference my previous blog entry "Duvet Dismay." I can't even think of Junior sometimes without losing it. It's like I have no emotional coping skills anymore- I cry about everything. I cried when BD found the stretch mark on my belly last night. I cried two days before that on his birthday when I hugged him and told him I was happy he was born 28 years ago. I get choked up at least once a day by someone's Facebook status. I'm sure I'll be in tears before I'm done writing this blog.
16.) Laugh until you cry. Cry until you piss your sweatpants. Piss your sweatpants until you hyperventilate.
-This follows up #15. I can't tell you how many times this has happened. We've all laughed until we've cried. But this...this pregnancy version of that is just plain cruel. And the worst part is having to take off those favorite sweatpants to wash them. Sometimes Reesh will get me laughing so hard and it quickly turns bad. Not just laughing and having tears at the same time, but bawling! And snotting. And straight up belting out in the "ugly cry." Then BD gets a scared look on his face, not knowing whether to keep laughing, laugh harder at this ridiculous situation, or console me because by this point I can't breathe.
17.) I'm gonna wash my own mouth out with soap.
-No, not because I have a potty mouth. Because I keep saying and thinking things that sound just like my mother. Gulp. I'm starting to think like a mom, which is a good thing- but I'm sounding just like my own mom. Which isn't a horrible thing, but we all swore it won't happen to us- and then it does.
18.) "If that were my kid, I'd...."
-Ya know, before you have kids (and even other parents are guilty) you find yourself pointing out faults in everyone's parenting styles. Reesh and I are no-less guilty. We are constantly critiquing people we see in public and how they handle their children. OF COURSE, we always know better! We'd always handle the situation a bit more maturely, and we'd never allow our children to make us that angry. Of course, this will change in just a few years when we're screaming and threatening the lives of our children in the McDonald's drive-thru. But for now, it's fun to play pretend perfect parents with pretend perfect kids. We know we're wrong, and we admit it.
19.) I knew I loved you, but...
- There's something about Reesh being my BD that makes me fall in love with him all over again. I find myself just looking at him sometimes and picturing him playing with our kids (OH GOD, I knew I wouldn't make it through this blog without shedding a tear!) and it fills my heart with joy! He's such a great friend/husband/son/colleague I just know he'll be the sweetest daddy! He gets the biggest smile on his face when we talk about Junior and it just makes me so darn grateful to have such a good good man! I hope to be as sweet to him as he always is to me- and after you read #7, the least I can do is be sweet and shave my legs, right? I love you, Reesh!
20.) Even I have heard enough...
-Sometimes, I get tired of hearing my own complaints. My back hurts, my pelvis hurts, I have battery acid in my throat and chest, I can't breathe, I'm tired, I don't feel so hot, I'm fat, I'm ugly, my face is breaking out, I'm irritated, why are you looking at me like that? Even I wanna shove a cork in it every now and then.
21.) Name-Calling
-Choosing your baby's name. And if your BD is European (or otherwise strange) guarding that name like it's the Holy Grail. You didn't really think we were naming our baby Junior Gator Chittlin' Frank, did you? Jr. does have a name...like a real one. Deciding on a name was fairly simple for us. We made two lists- one for a girl, and one for a boy. Each list was narrowed down to about 5 names by the time we learned the sex. After that we just...chose one we liked. At first we chose another name, used it for a day and then changed it to the name we're using now. Jr. will have TWO middle names, which are both family names. Not sure how this works if the poor child ever wants to learn to spell his name or have anything with a monogram on it..? Anyway, BD gave in and let me announce the baby's gender but is holding firm to saving the name until his birth. I haven't felt the urge once to tell anyone his name- unusual for me. I did tell the dude from Etsy who made some vinyl wall art with his name on it- shoot me. My only concern is that since I've referred to Jr. as...JUNIOR for the entire pregnancy, I might feel strange calling him by his real name. Maybe he'll always just be Junior. <3
22.) Decorating and shopping- not that I'm listing strengths and weaknesses here....
-This has been SO MUCH FUN! We started so early, and boy am I glad we did. I don't understand how people wait until the last minute to start decorating a nursery or shopping for baby-musts. This mess ain't cheap! We have been blessed with 9 whole months to prepare for our little ones- we should take advantage of it, 'cause we need it! I can't tell you how many times Reesh and I have went and layed down on the floor in the nursery and just talked, laughed, daydreamt. Setting up the nursery together has been so special! We've created this little miracle together and now we've created a perfect little place for him to live and feel comfortable in. We love looking at all of his tiny little things- and we still ooh and ahh over them every time! I can't wait to have Jr. in his room!!!
I WILL SAY....coming up for a theme for the nursery and picking out a crib set was a beeyotch! I almost needed anti-depressants to get me through it. This is my first baby- I want everything to be perfect! All themes/colors/bed sets were too dark, too light, too sporty, too girly, too many animals, not enough patterns, cheap looking, too expensive, too much green, not enough blue, no cute factor....I almost lost my mind! Jr. is a very lucky boy that his mom found something she liked because she almost threw him in a sleeping bag. Haha, no...not really. But I was afraid I might have had to if I couldn't find anything. It all came together and after MONTHS of searching, I went and ordered the first set I ever looked at. I know, &*^% %^&*$# *&^%* !!!!!!!!! We ordered some cuuuuuuute vinyl wall decals from Etsy, a few final touches, and voila- super sweet, super cute nursery. Just enough cute factor, not over the top, soft colors, different patterns, crisp, babyish but not too babyish, playful but not toddlerish- it all worked out. Thank God- it wasn't looking good for my sanity for a while.
23.) Fooooooooood!
-"FOOD" needs a new definition while pregnant. Eating becomes more than just eating. In the beginning, you're sick as hell, you're lucky to eat anything! Then, whenever you can pull it together to eat a meal you have this long list of things you can't eat or you'll kill your baby. Sandwich meat? Really? I will just say the scaring antics work- I am 35 weeks and have yet to eat a piece of cold deli meat this entire pregnancy. I was so sick at one point I was roaming the aisles of the grocery store gagging my poor heart out just looking at all the food. I went home with a small tub of chocolate mousse that night and that's what I had for dinner. And it wasn't just a one-time deal. I LOVE veggies! Love 'em! The thought of putting anything remotely green in my mouth was enough to do me in. So, thank you prenatal vitamins, for giving my body everything that chocolate mousse couldn't. When I was over the nausea I wanted to eat everything in sight. Mostly comfort and junk foods. I wanted three plates of biscuits and gravy, fried chicken, Tex-Mex, bacon, gumbo, melted cheeeeese on anything, and a side order of jalapenos with everything! I went home for 5 weeks during the end of my 2nd trimester and ATE LIKE A CAVEMAN WITH NO SHAME! I had my share of everything southern, fried, and grease-tastic to include homemade biscuits and gravy (tomato and sausage), fried fish and all the fixins, and pounds and pounds of chitterlings! Yes, that's why 'Chittlin' is part of Jr.'s name. Collard greens (and the pot liquor), dump cake, baked beans, coleslaw, brisket, liver & gizzards....y'all I'm feelin' real ghetto right now, but it was SO good and comforting. Going to Alabama for those 5 weeks was like a soul revival, lol. Along with all the lard came bouts of heartburn. But I've learned that Crisco and water in equal amounts will give you equal amounts of heartburn- I ain't fidna lick no celery stick for dinner!
24.) Fee-fi-fo-fum I smell.....everything!
-May the superpowers of the super nose be granted to every pregnant lady! Seriously, I can smell my own thoughts these days. I could've received a side job with the K-9 unit these last few months. When nausea was dominating my life, this sucked big time. The smell of the fridge was one thing....I just opened it and got what I needed in record speed. The smell of the dishwasher....that's something I don't even like to talk about anymore. I'm pretty sure I managed to stack dishes up on the counter for a good 2 months- not that I had 2 month's worth of dirty dishes laying around, but for 2 months Reesh had to load and empty the darn thing. I just couldn't handle that metallic-lemon...ugh, you know what I mean...the dishwasher smell. And you know when a glass has been in the dishwasher and it's almost like the glass is porous and soaks in a bit of that scent? You go to drink from it and you smell and taste the dishwasher- %&*&%$#%&!!!!!! Any military wives reading this? You know the military smell? Your husband's flight suit/ACU'S/whatever he wears smells like this everyday when he comes home. I secretly love that smell- reminds me of being little and my dad coming home and his BDU's always smelled like that. But anyway, that same smell that always made me feel good was making me feel like I had just sniffed the crypt keeper. I'm not sure I ever expressed it to BD in quite those words, but...that's how I really felt. One time the pantry made me sick. The smell of the cans/cardboard boxes...something had me running out and I barely made it to the kitchen sink. COFFEE! Coffee was forbidden in our house for a while. If Reesh was gonna drink coffee he had to do so on the other side of the house and not kiss me until the next day. I'm not a coffee drinker myself, but usually enjoy the smell- who doesn't right? Pregnant me. That's who doesn't.
25.) Modesty? Oh, I checked mine at the door.
-I'd always heard once you had a baby all modesty goes out the window. For me it started once I decided to get pregnant. Things didn't go as planned and we ended up using fertility treatment. This meant 2 times a week sometimes heading to the OBGYN and getting the dildo-cam treatment. If it's not bad enough having to do that, the thing is totally phallic and they even use a condom and lube. But ok, we got pregnant- that's the important part. Right back to the dildo-cam to confirm pregnancy, and then again a few weeks later for a check-up. Then it's getting shots in the ass, spreading your legs open as far as you can for your p.t. while laying on your back and in your undies, and I haven't even had this baby yet!
26.) O Sandman, Sandman! Wherefore art thou Sandman?
-In my first trimester I had some real sucky sleep. I chalked that up to all the crazy thoughts and emotions I was having- should be normal. That only lasted a few weeks really, and since then I have slept like an angel. Until a few weeks ago. I guess the typical third trimester shit sleep has arrived, yay. I've been sleeping with a different multitude of pillows for the past few months- pregnancy pillow, body pillow, and now King-sized pillow. The problem is I HAVE to have some kind of pillow between my knees because of the pelvic pain- but I sleep so crazy I roll over a hundred times a night and I have to take the darn pillow with me, readjust, and then fall back asleep. Because of my pelvic pain I am grunting and groaning every time I roll over, so I wake BD up and then we both have a cruddy night. And then sometimes, the pillow gets intertwined between both our long legs and I have to fight to get it back. Once all of that has happened, I'm awake and then have to pee. Once back in the bed I can't get comfortable- If I lay on my left side I squish Jr. If I lay on my right side I have to deal with nose-breath on me. I can't stand nose breath!!! On top of all of this I am 30 degrees hotter than I've ever been- so we sleep with the window open. In the dead of winter, in Europe...we're sleeping with the window open. Almost every night I end up getting up to close the window because it's raining in the bedroom. Then there's the dreams. The dreeeeeeeams. I've had dreams that would make Jenna Jameson blush! The kind where you're almost scared to go to sleep again the next night. ;)
I've written way more than I should have and I could've kept going, but I'll leave you here for now. There's sure to be more pregnancy-blogging in my future. Hope I didn't offend anyone- I'm just keeping it real. And anyway, what did you expect to find behind the title of this post? ;)
Monday, December 12, 2011
Duvet Dismay
This past weekend was....it just was.
It started off real nice. Reesh was off work Friday, we took off bright and early and headed to Germany to meet up with an old friend who was going to do my maternity photography. We had a real nice time there- it was good being in some American company for a change. We ate more than should legally be possible at her husband's company party- I was truly embarrassed by my "leaning tower of calories-a" on my double stacked paper plates. That was before I tried every dessert on the dessert contest table. I was just making sure S's red and green velvet cake was for sure the best dessert in the contest- it was all about support, folks. Haha. We took some real nice pictures and now I'm anxiously waiting to see them all- pretty and edited, of course. We stayed the night in Germany Friday night and then took more pictures Saturday morning before heading out back to the NL to my in-laws' house. By this point, exhausted doesn't accurately put it. Doesn't sound like much, I guess, but 3 and a half hours in the car Friday and close to 6 on Saturday plus sore achy pregnancy body and not much sleep just left me wanting to put my big green sweatpants on and pout about it all. Haha.
>Ya know, I always kinda dread the Dutch family events. Ilove LOVE Reesh's parents. But I always feel so uncomfortable around the rest of the gang. Usually I just hope to sit in the corner, be quiet, and avoid conversation. Anyone who knows me would question if I even just wrote that. No, my blog has not been hacked. Anyway, without getting into all the nitty gritty Saturday night was a flop! It went something like this...
"Are you taking any pregnancy yoga classes or anything?"
Me- "What?
"Are you taking any pregnancy yoga classes or anything?"
Me- "I'm sorry, I can't hear you....what?"
"Are you taking any pregnancy yoga classes or anything?"
Me- "I just can't hear you."
*this goes on a few times before I decided I would actually acknowledge the question.
Me- "Nope. No, I'm not."
*then I get the scrunched up face from a few women in the room
"Are you finished?"
Me- "Am I finished with what?"
"The nursery."
Me- "Yes, almost. Just a few things left to hang up and it'll all be baby-ready."
"What color/s are you using?"
Me- "Mostly blues, yellows and greens."
*at this point I'm already sweating from playing 21 questions (or I could've been lost in translation- who knows?) so I'm not sure how the next series of events unfold, but someone asks me something about a blanket.
Me-"Well, the crib set I ordered came with a very cute blanket but it's super thin and isn't gonna cut it this winter so I've got to get something else to go under it....a duvet or whatever."
*insert D.J. screeching a record sound in the room- then there's a unanimous jolt of heads in my direction followed by silence of EVERYONE in the room. AwKwAaAaArD.......
*then I'm pelted with
"A DUVET????"
"A DUVEEEET?"
"AAA DUUUVEEEEETTTT?????"
I'm thinking to myself... did I use the wrong Dutch word for duvet? Did I accidentally say I wanted to cover my child in a bed of thorns, or swaddle him in a straight jacket? Wtf, Chuck?
So every woman in the room proceeds to tell me how dangerous and ridiculous it would be to use a duvet in a crib. What was I thinking?
The only thing I could stutter was that I found that a strange response from all of them seeing as how there are AISLES of duvet choices in every Dutch baby store I've ever been in- they don't commonly use blankets/quilts/throws/what-have-you in beds and cribs. I felt so attacked I really started sweating and just wanted to run away. I held my composure for as long as I could and finally BROKE DOWN in the garage while trying to help my MIL with hors d'oeuvres. I ended up going to bed without a farewell and cried like a monster until I fell asleep. I knew I was being overly emotional but, hell, I misplaced my emotion switch a few months ago. I literally had to pray for forgiveness for all the horrible thoughts going through my head once I got upstairs. Do you ever get so mad you play through scenarios in your head where you're real witty and have all the best come-backs and you "show them!" Hahaha. I'm keeping this real "PG" today as my blog is not private and who knows who reads this. If you saw me this weekend and the word "duvet" was mentioned and you're reading this now, yes....yes, you pissed. me. OFF!!!!
I told Reesh in the car on the way home yesterday, "ya know, as long as there are children and parents in this world, anyone and everyone is gonna have SOMETHING to say about EVERYTHING!!" Next time you think about giving someone some unsolicited parental advice (unless it's obviously to prevent harm to a child...) shut the hell up! I'm just sayin'....
Once we got home yesterday and I was back in my reflector green sweatpants (which, btw, are sadly starting to fade due to repeated wear and wash) I was feeling more human- and had not shed a tear in a few hours. Until Mom calls and asks how my weekend was.
My MIL and I designed some ca-yute curtains for Junior'ssooooo cute! As soon as it's completely finished I will post some pictures. :)
I could really go for a grilled cheese sandwich right now....
It started off real nice. Reesh was off work Friday, we took off bright and early and headed to Germany to meet up with an old friend who was going to do my maternity photography. We had a real nice time there- it was good being in some American company for a change. We ate more than should legally be possible at her husband's company party- I was truly embarrassed by my "leaning tower of calories-a" on my double stacked paper plates. That was before I tried every dessert on the dessert contest table. I was just making sure S's red and green velvet cake was for sure the best dessert in the contest- it was all about support, folks. Haha. We took some real nice pictures and now I'm anxiously waiting to see them all- pretty and edited, of course. We stayed the night in Germany Friday night and then took more pictures Saturday morning before heading out back to the NL to my in-laws' house. By this point, exhausted doesn't accurately put it. Doesn't sound like much, I guess, but 3 and a half hours in the car Friday and close to 6 on Saturday plus sore achy pregnancy body and not much sleep just left me wanting to put my big green sweatpants on and pout about it all. Haha.
>Ya know, I always kinda dread the Dutch family events. I
"Are you taking any pregnancy yoga classes or anything?"
Me- "What?
"Are you taking any pregnancy yoga classes or anything?"
Me- "I'm sorry, I can't hear you....what?"
"Are you taking any pregnancy yoga classes or anything?"
Me- "I just can't hear you."
*this goes on a few times before I decided I would actually acknowledge the question.
Me- "Nope. No, I'm not."
*then I get the scrunched up face from a few women in the room
"Are you finished?"
Me- "Am I finished with what?"
"The nursery."
Me- "Yes, almost. Just a few things left to hang up and it'll all be baby-ready."
"What color/s are you using?"
Me- "Mostly blues, yellows and greens."
*at this point I'm already sweating from playing 21 questions (or I could've been lost in translation- who knows?) so I'm not sure how the next series of events unfold, but someone asks me something about a blanket.
Me-"Well, the crib set I ordered came with a very cute blanket but it's super thin and isn't gonna cut it this winter so I've got to get something else to go under it....a duvet or whatever."
*insert D.J. screeching a record sound in the room- then there's a unanimous jolt of heads in my direction followed by silence of EVERYONE in the room. AwKwAaAaArD.......
*then I'm pelted with
"A DUVET????"
"A DUVEEEET?"
"AAA DUUUVEEEEETTTT?????"
I'm thinking to myself... did I use the wrong Dutch word for duvet? Did I accidentally say I wanted to cover my child in a bed of thorns, or swaddle him in a straight jacket? Wtf, Chuck?
So every woman in the room proceeds to tell me how dangerous and ridiculous it would be to use a duvet in a crib. What was I thinking?
The only thing I could stutter was that I found that a strange response from all of them seeing as how there are AISLES of duvet choices in every Dutch baby store I've ever been in- they don't commonly use blankets/quilts/throws/what-have-you in beds and cribs. I felt so attacked I really started sweating and just wanted to run away. I held my composure for as long as I could and finally BROKE DOWN in the garage while trying to help my MIL with hors d'oeuvres. I ended up going to bed without a farewell and cried like a monster until I fell asleep. I knew I was being overly emotional but, hell, I misplaced my emotion switch a few months ago. I literally had to pray for forgiveness for all the horrible thoughts going through my head once I got upstairs. Do you ever get so mad you play through scenarios in your head where you're real witty and have all the best come-backs and you "show them!" Hahaha. I'm keeping this real "PG" today as my blog is not private and who knows who reads this. If you saw me this weekend and the word "duvet" was mentioned and you're reading this now, yes....yes, you pissed. me. OFF!!!!
I told Reesh in the car on the way home yesterday, "ya know, as long as there are children and parents in this world, anyone and everyone is gonna have SOMETHING to say about EVERYTHING!!" Next time you think about giving someone some unsolicited parental advice (unless it's obviously to prevent harm to a child...) shut the hell up! I'm just sayin'....
Once we got home yesterday and I was back in my reflector green sweatpants (which, btw, are sadly starting to fade due to repeated wear and wash) I was feeling more human- and had not shed a tear in a few hours. Until Mom calls and asks how my weekend was.
My MIL and I designed some ca-yute curtains for Junior'ssooooo cute! As soon as it's completely finished I will post some pictures. :)
I could really go for a grilled cheese sandwich right now....
You're an Oxymoron
Alright y'all! (whoever "y'all" is...)
First in baby news:
I had my 32 week check-up with my midwife today. I had to go alone because Reesh is still in Germany, which is ok, but damn when you're 8 months pregnant walking yourself to your prenatal appointment. Good thing he's not got any more trips planned before D-Day, I might have been walking myself to the delivery room. :) Anyway, my results were in from my last blood and glucose tests- sugar was good, iron was good (good to know those prenatal vitamins the size of a turkey leg work!), and mine and the baby's blood is both good (and negative.) Blood pressure perfect as always.
>I had a list 25 questions long today and really left with some good info. We talked about the dreaded C-section and how that goes down here in the NL. Not that I was already being Negative Nancy, but when you're 32 weeks and there's a baby's head lodged in your ribs, the question is, none-the-less fitting. At the end of my appointment she checked the baby as usual (ehhhm....my protruding belly covered in fine hair complete with half inny/half outty belly button) and found out that Ol' Gator Chittlin' Frank had indeed already made the great migration (head first) South. In the words of Madea, "Well, praise God, Hallelujer!" I was so excited when I left my appointment just minutes after hearing that, that when my midwife extended her hand for a shake I started to reach around and hug her without realizing it. But I didn't. Well done, Junior! Now hopefully he'll stay that way.
My iPhone 4s came in today- woot woot! I surprised myself with my tech-savvyness and how quickly I exchanged phones. What a difference! This phone is the shizzy-dizzy! I honestly don't think I can ever use another phone. Super iPhone spoiled!
Maternity Clothes. No, not what you'd expect to see at a runway near you anytime soon- but my God, they've come a long way. I mean, since just a few years ago. More bellies are being exposed at the middriff (if you're pregnant, do you even have one of those still?), tighter clothing (thank GOD...away with the big bulky clothing that screams "HELP! I'm knocked up and dressed like Java the Hut!!!), and somewhat stylish! When I first got pregnant I just couldn't wait to have a huge belly! I didn't hardly buy any maternity clothes, save for a pair of pants or so, because it all looked huge on me. That changed. Now I wish I had bought more because this is where I am:
I am too large to fit into anything I did 3 months ago.
I am too out of breath to barely make it down the stairs to leave the house, most less go shopping for clothes!
And after buying all that baby stuff (JEEZ they need a lot!) I am too damn broke to shop online.
I am perfectly content (that doesn't even touch how I feel!) with my oversized lime green V.S. sweatpants and whichever tanktop is not on the bottom of the dirty clothes pile. Seriously. The neon green sweatpants were cute. Like the first 2 weeks I wore them. But now that everyone I know has seen me wear them...every time they see me....it's probably getting a bit obnoxious. The dog is happy he's color-blind. Ya know, I could care less really- but then...sometime...you just gotta get out of the house. This weekend we have a big wedding anniversary party for an aunt and uncle, and Christmas weekend we're going to the St. Petersburg ballet's 'The Nutcracker.' As much as I'd like to show up in my handy-dandy green sweatpants, these are my in-laws and I guess I've gotta have some kind of class. So, the only dress I have that fit me recently...like a month ago, is a Peg Bundy, leapord, just-past-the-knee dress. I'm just not sure that right now I wanna look like 10 pounds of sausage in a 5 pound leapord bag. Yesterday I had a melt-down. Or 12. I'm not even sure why...oh yes I am. At one point I was crying because I had no maternity clothes. So, hunka-hunka burnin' love felt bad for me (or at least sounded real concerned about my lack of a fat girl wardrobe) and told me to "go ahead and order what I want." Why he say dat? I ordered...cough....three dresses (in my defense, 2 were to be sent back after choosing the one that looked best), a pair of boots (no reasonable shoes in the closet to go with those dresses), a pair of maternity pantyhose (note to self: put on in the dark so you don't have to see what that looks like), and a pair of...durn da da durn....maternity skinny jeans. No, your computer screen is not dirty, I said it. Fat lady skinny jeans. For anyone who may be reading this who doesn't personally know me, I'm not really fat (I do a good job at making myself sound that way)- I'm just...ya know, pregnant- so a bit wider than I'm used to. Anyway, super curious about the skinny jeans. All of my other maternity jeans have the flared leg...not gonna work this winter. I really needed something I can tuck into my boots. Even now, everytime I go outside my jeans get wet to the knees. Skinny Jeans. So they came in today, along with the rest of my loot, and oh em gee! They're perfect! Complete with belly band and all- what more could I wish for? Oh, for them not to give me the dreaded "Mom butt." Oh, don't shake your head and act like you don't know what the MOM BUTT is. The tall, flat, rectangular butt sported by moms in MOM JEANS? Yep, that's what I'm talking about. Tried those bad boys on. No.Mom.Butt. Word! I'm on the phone with my mom while I'm trying on all of my new clothes and all she can say about the maternity skinny jeans is that they're an oxymoron in themselves. I'll give her that, but I'll bet you she's never seen a mom butt look this good in SKINNY JEANS! Hahahaha.
First in baby news:
I had my 32 week check-up with my midwife today. I had to go alone because Reesh is still in Germany, which is ok, but damn when you're 8 months pregnant walking yourself to your prenatal appointment. Good thing he's not got any more trips planned before D-Day, I might have been walking myself to the delivery room. :) Anyway, my results were in from my last blood and glucose tests- sugar was good, iron was good (good to know those prenatal vitamins the size of a turkey leg work!), and mine and the baby's blood is both good (and negative.) Blood pressure perfect as always.
>I had a list 25 questions long today and really left with some good info. We talked about the dreaded C-section and how that goes down here in the NL. Not that I was already being Negative Nancy, but when you're 32 weeks and there's a baby's head lodged in your ribs, the question is, none-the-less fitting. At the end of my appointment she checked the baby as usual (ehhhm....my protruding belly covered in fine hair complete with half inny/half outty belly button) and found out that Ol' Gator Chittlin' Frank had indeed already made the great migration (head first) South. In the words of Madea, "Well, praise God, Hallelujer!" I was so excited when I left my appointment just minutes after hearing that, that when my midwife extended her hand for a shake I started to reach around and hug her without realizing it. But I didn't. Well done, Junior! Now hopefully he'll stay that way.
My iPhone 4s came in today- woot woot! I surprised myself with my tech-savvyness and how quickly I exchanged phones. What a difference! This phone is the shizzy-dizzy! I honestly don't think I can ever use another phone. Super iPhone spoiled!
Maternity Clothes. No, not what you'd expect to see at a runway near you anytime soon- but my God, they've come a long way. I mean, since just a few years ago. More bellies are being exposed at the middriff (if you're pregnant, do you even have one of those still?), tighter clothing (thank GOD...away with the big bulky clothing that screams "HELP! I'm knocked up and dressed like Java the Hut!!!), and somewhat stylish! When I first got pregnant I just couldn't wait to have a huge belly! I didn't hardly buy any maternity clothes, save for a pair of pants or so, because it all looked huge on me. That changed. Now I wish I had bought more because this is where I am:
I am too large to fit into anything I did 3 months ago.
I am too out of breath to barely make it down the stairs to leave the house, most less go shopping for clothes!
And after buying all that baby stuff (JEEZ they need a lot!) I am too damn broke to shop online.
I am perfectly content (that doesn't even touch how I feel!) with my oversized lime green V.S. sweatpants and whichever tanktop is not on the bottom of the dirty clothes pile. Seriously. The neon green sweatpants were cute. Like the first 2 weeks I wore them. But now that everyone I know has seen me wear them...every time they see me....it's probably getting a bit obnoxious. The dog is happy he's color-blind. Ya know, I could care less really- but then...sometime...you just gotta get out of the house. This weekend we have a big wedding anniversary party for an aunt and uncle, and Christmas weekend we're going to the St. Petersburg ballet's 'The Nutcracker.' As much as I'd like to show up in my handy-dandy green sweatpants, these are my in-laws and I guess I've gotta have some kind of class. So, the only dress I have that fit me recently...like a month ago, is a Peg Bundy, leapord, just-past-the-knee dress. I'm just not sure that right now I wanna look like 10 pounds of sausage in a 5 pound leapord bag. Yesterday I had a melt-down. Or 12. I'm not even sure why...oh yes I am. At one point I was crying because I had no maternity clothes. So, hunka-hunka burnin' love felt bad for me (or at least sounded real concerned about my lack of a fat girl wardrobe) and told me to "go ahead and order what I want." Why he say dat? I ordered...cough....three dresses (in my defense, 2 were to be sent back after choosing the one that looked best), a pair of boots (no reasonable shoes in the closet to go with those dresses), a pair of maternity pantyhose (note to self: put on in the dark so you don't have to see what that looks like), and a pair of...durn da da durn....maternity skinny jeans. No, your computer screen is not dirty, I said it. Fat lady skinny jeans. For anyone who may be reading this who doesn't personally know me, I'm not really fat (I do a good job at making myself sound that way)- I'm just...ya know, pregnant- so a bit wider than I'm used to. Anyway, super curious about the skinny jeans. All of my other maternity jeans have the flared leg...not gonna work this winter. I really needed something I can tuck into my boots. Even now, everytime I go outside my jeans get wet to the knees. Skinny Jeans. So they came in today, along with the rest of my loot, and oh em gee! They're perfect! Complete with belly band and all- what more could I wish for? Oh, for them not to give me the dreaded "Mom butt." Oh, don't shake your head and act like you don't know what the MOM BUTT is. The tall, flat, rectangular butt sported by moms in MOM JEANS? Yep, that's what I'm talking about. Tried those bad boys on. No.Mom.Butt. Word! I'm on the phone with my mom while I'm trying on all of my new clothes and all she can say about the maternity skinny jeans is that they're an oxymoron in themselves. I'll give her that, but I'll bet you she's never seen a mom butt look this good in SKINNY JEANS! Hahahaha.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
No Turkey. No Dressing. No Problem.
-Alright. Today is Thanksgiving 2011.
I'm not committing gluttony on pounds of turkey, gravy or pecan pie (I typed puh-con, not pee-can) this year. Or watching the Macy's Day Parade. Or taking my turn at the table saying what I'm most thankful for. Those things are like hunting pastel eggs on Easter, opening up overstuffed stockings on Christmas morning and getting smashed on July 4th- we all do it but it has nothing to do with the holiday itself.
-So another year home alone for this holiday, I'm trying not to focus on the fact that I'm not washing down my sister's famous green bean casserole with a big glass of iced tea, and focus instead on the true meaning of Thanksgiving.
>Over the years the literal meaning of the Thanksgiving celebration has dramatically changed. No, we don't celebrate the year's awesome harvest with a giant stuff-yo-face-barf-repeat feast, but the age-old tradition of being thankful for our many blessings is still there. Hopefully.
-I, for one, have an infinite list of things to be thankful for this year.
>The cherry on top is the fact that it was important to my parents to teach me about God. We weren't front and center every single Sunday, we didn't always say grace before meals and we sho nuff didn't carry Bibles in our back pockets. Not that those things define you as a person of faith- not what I'm saying. My parents sent me to church camp every summer- some of the best times of my childhood. Had my parents not told me about Jesus and His love, I would've had to find Him on my own- who knows how long that would've taken. Every good thing in my life- He put there. Every person in my life- He put there. Even my old, lung-hacking, mean as all get out neighbor- God gave him to me for some reason. All my experiences and memories- God allowed me to have. Without Him, well...I wouldn't even be here today writing this, but without him in my life....that's just a scary thought. I keep seeing the same saying every time I'm on Pinterest- "What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?" True, right? I thank God every day for the blessings in my life- who/where would I be without those things/people?
>Nine years ago this month I was almost taken from this Earth- just a few days before Thanksgiving. I am thankful each year to be here celebrating another Thanksgiving- be it by myself or with 10,000 people, I'M HERE! And I'm thankful- not just on the 4th Thursday of every November, but each day.
>At the end of my freshman year of high school my dad got orders for the first time in 18 years to move. We were nothing short of devastated. We'd lived in the same town forever. That night we went to church to meet up with our pastor seeking some comfort and encouraging words. He had something to say for each of us about how this move would bring positive changes into our lives. When it was my turn he said a few things, but the only thing that really stuck in my 14-year old head was, "...and who knows, Rebecca, you may meet the love of your life in Alabama." "Ewe," "Yuck," "Gross," and "Rednecks!" were the only thoughts I could muster! As luck would have it, I DID meet the love of my life in Alabama. And far from "redneck" was he! It was his first time in the States- we actually met just a week or so after he got there. I was 18, he was 21. It was just...supposed to be. I thank God every day for this man! He is, hands down, the most amazing person I've ever met in my life. (I'm totally bawling right now!) I said once if I could be like anyone in the world, I'd be just like him. It hurts to breathe when I think about how much I love him. I hope to never, ever, ever take him for granted. Every little girl dreams of growing up and being a princess and meeting her prince charming. Well, I'm sorry little girls...Prince Charming is taken! :)
I am grateful to infinity and beyond for my husband/partner/soul mate/best friend/baby-daddy. (Sorry, I had to throw baby-daddy in there, it was getting too serious.)
>I am out of words to express how thankful I am for our little angel, Junior Gator Chittlin' Frank. We aren't announcing his name until his birth...so as you can imagine he has acquired many nicknames in the mean time. Poor baby. Some people just call their baby-in-waiting "peanut" or "bean" or...hell, I don't know...anything but "Gator" or "Chittlin'." Anyway, we tried for 10 months to get pregnant and thankfully after only 10 months were referred to a fertility specialist. Turns out I have real lazy ovaries, or something known as PCOS. So, for me, getting pregnant without any help is like playing Russian Roulette. One day I'll bore the socks off of you and blog more about this. Everyone talks about the love you'll have for your children as something indescribable. Unmeasurable. A love unlike anything you've ever felt before. Well, no convincing needed here- I can't put ol' Gator Chittlin's 3D ultra sound pictures down for longer than a half hour. I am so obsessed with this little boy and he's not even here yet. Better yet, I am THANKFUL for the precious little angel we have been blessed with. Now hurry up and get here, Ol' Frank!
>My family. My crazy, dysfunctional, wonderful, beautiful family. Family is strange. God chooses a group of people for you and calls them your "family." These people will hurt and piss you off worse than anyone else in the world. At the end of the day, they're still your family. You better love these people (even if it needs to be from a distance) because they're God's (non-refundable, non-returnable, non-exchangeable) gift to you, as you are to them. And you don't treat gifts from God as trash. You cherish them, and are THANKFUL for them. I have a few family members that I'm not exactly.....close with. But I ain't gonna lie, sometimes I just want my family. Every one of them. Drama and all. I just want to see them, hug them, be with them. At least once a week, I just want to crawl (with my big pregnant arse) in my moms lap and have her rub my back. I wanna be spoiled by mom, cut up with my sisters, roll on the carpet with my nieces. Great, now I'm a freakin' mess again.
>While I was just getting myself back together, my father-in-law called. Which brings me to my next point. My awesome, amazing in-laws. Seriously, there cannot be any sweeter in-laws than mine! I have a great relationship with both of Reesh's parents. Since the day I decided to move here they have been fully supportive of everything in our lives. I know so many other people who are way less fortunate than I am with their in-laws, and it's such a pity. God has blessed me with TWO families. How awesome is that? Very thankful for my family-in-love. :)
>My amigos. How would we survive this world without friends? Unlike our families, we can choose these folks. Some come and go, some will stay a lifetime. Some are just good for having a good time, some you can trust your life with. Either way, we'd go crazy with no friends. So I am very thankful for the people God has put in my life to keep me company. 8:00-5:00 can be a long time when you're not working, hahaha. OH! Speaking of friends. I've got a girlfriend, Red. I got to see her for the first time in like 7 years last month while I was back in the States. She's a strong woman of God and lives her life accordingly. When I saw her last she went on and on about wanting to become a mom, but wasn't sure if it was her "time" yet or not. But I could hear the pain in her voice- she really wanted to be pregnant. All the while, she WAS pregnant and just didn't know it yet. Yesterday she had her first OB appointment and got to see her precious little miracle already at only 8 weeks. Today her and her husband are making the big announcement to the family. God is good. And seeing my friend so happy does my heart good. Love you, Red. You and sweet baby G.R. :)))
On another friend note, I was supposed to be all alone today. I had a lunch date planned for tomorrow, but my girlfriend called me and rescheduled for this afternoon! Cha-ching! I didn't tell her right away how excited I was, but I let her know today over lunch. Which btw, I did prepare with a bit of sliced deli turkey meat. Woot woot! So, after all I was not as pathetic today as I had anticipated. Thank you, God, for my friends. :)
>Another thing I'm very thankful for is Reesh's job. In today's day and time, we're lucky he even has a job. He LOVES his job! LOVES IT! Had it not been for his job, we would have never met. (Or would we have....I go back and forth on this question.) Either way, it sure helped! His job supports our family- we have a roof over our heard, clothes on our back and food on the table, and THAT is enough to be thankful for.
-Aside from these things (and they weren't intentionally set in any order) there's about a million materialistic things I'm thankful for.....but those aren't nearly as important.
I hope anyone reading this (if anyone is....cricket cricket...) takes the time, not just today but everyday, to remember to be thankful for all that you have- even if you don't think it's much.
Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all!
I'm not committing gluttony on pounds of turkey, gravy or pecan pie (I typed puh-con, not pee-can) this year. Or watching the Macy's Day Parade. Or taking my turn at the table saying what I'm most thankful for. Those things are like hunting pastel eggs on Easter, opening up overstuffed stockings on Christmas morning and getting smashed on July 4th- we all do it but it has nothing to do with the holiday itself.
-So another year home alone for this holiday, I'm trying not to focus on the fact that I'm not washing down my sister's famous green bean casserole with a big glass of iced tea, and focus instead on the true meaning of Thanksgiving.
>Over the years the literal meaning of the Thanksgiving celebration has dramatically changed. No, we don't celebrate the year's awesome harvest with a giant stuff-yo-face-barf-repeat feast, but the age-old tradition of being thankful for our many blessings is still there. Hopefully.
-I, for one, have an infinite list of things to be thankful for this year.
>The cherry on top is the fact that it was important to my parents to teach me about God. We weren't front and center every single Sunday, we didn't always say grace before meals and we sho nuff didn't carry Bibles in our back pockets. Not that those things define you as a person of faith- not what I'm saying. My parents sent me to church camp every summer- some of the best times of my childhood. Had my parents not told me about Jesus and His love, I would've had to find Him on my own- who knows how long that would've taken. Every good thing in my life- He put there. Every person in my life- He put there. Even my old, lung-hacking, mean as all get out neighbor- God gave him to me for some reason. All my experiences and memories- God allowed me to have. Without Him, well...I wouldn't even be here today writing this, but without him in my life....that's just a scary thought. I keep seeing the same saying every time I'm on Pinterest- "What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?" True, right? I thank God every day for the blessings in my life- who/where would I be without those things/people?
>Nine years ago this month I was almost taken from this Earth- just a few days before Thanksgiving. I am thankful each year to be here celebrating another Thanksgiving- be it by myself or with 10,000 people, I'M HERE! And I'm thankful- not just on the 4th Thursday of every November, but each day.
>At the end of my freshman year of high school my dad got orders for the first time in 18 years to move. We were nothing short of devastated. We'd lived in the same town forever. That night we went to church to meet up with our pastor seeking some comfort and encouraging words. He had something to say for each of us about how this move would bring positive changes into our lives. When it was my turn he said a few things, but the only thing that really stuck in my 14-year old head was, "...and who knows, Rebecca, you may meet the love of your life in Alabama." "Ewe," "Yuck," "Gross," and "Rednecks!" were the only thoughts I could muster! As luck would have it, I DID meet the love of my life in Alabama. And far from "redneck" was he! It was his first time in the States- we actually met just a week or so after he got there. I was 18, he was 21. It was just...supposed to be. I thank God every day for this man! He is, hands down, the most amazing person I've ever met in my life. (I'm totally bawling right now!) I said once if I could be like anyone in the world, I'd be just like him. It hurts to breathe when I think about how much I love him. I hope to never, ever, ever take him for granted. Every little girl dreams of growing up and being a princess and meeting her prince charming. Well, I'm sorry little girls...Prince Charming is taken! :)
I am grateful to infinity and beyond for my husband/partner/soul mate/best friend/baby-daddy. (Sorry, I had to throw baby-daddy in there, it was getting too serious.)
>I am out of words to express how thankful I am for our little angel, Junior Gator Chittlin' Frank. We aren't announcing his name until his birth...so as you can imagine he has acquired many nicknames in the mean time. Poor baby. Some people just call their baby-in-waiting "peanut" or "bean" or...hell, I don't know...anything but "Gator" or "Chittlin'." Anyway, we tried for 10 months to get pregnant and thankfully after only 10 months were referred to a fertility specialist. Turns out I have real lazy ovaries, or something known as PCOS. So, for me, getting pregnant without any help is like playing Russian Roulette. One day I'll bore the socks off of you and blog more about this. Everyone talks about the love you'll have for your children as something indescribable. Unmeasurable. A love unlike anything you've ever felt before. Well, no convincing needed here- I can't put ol' Gator Chittlin's 3D ultra sound pictures down for longer than a half hour. I am so obsessed with this little boy and he's not even here yet. Better yet, I am THANKFUL for the precious little angel we have been blessed with. Now hurry up and get here, Ol' Frank!
>My family. My crazy, dysfunctional, wonderful, beautiful family. Family is strange. God chooses a group of people for you and calls them your "family." These people will hurt and piss you off worse than anyone else in the world. At the end of the day, they're still your family. You better love these people (even if it needs to be from a distance) because they're God's (non-refundable, non-returnable, non-exchangeable) gift to you, as you are to them. And you don't treat gifts from God as trash. You cherish them, and are THANKFUL for them. I have a few family members that I'm not exactly.....close with. But I ain't gonna lie, sometimes I just want my family. Every one of them. Drama and all. I just want to see them, hug them, be with them. At least once a week, I just want to crawl (with my big pregnant arse) in my moms lap and have her rub my back. I wanna be spoiled by mom, cut up with my sisters, roll on the carpet with my nieces. Great, now I'm a freakin' mess again.
>While I was just getting myself back together, my father-in-law called. Which brings me to my next point. My awesome, amazing in-laws. Seriously, there cannot be any sweeter in-laws than mine! I have a great relationship with both of Reesh's parents. Since the day I decided to move here they have been fully supportive of everything in our lives. I know so many other people who are way less fortunate than I am with their in-laws, and it's such a pity. God has blessed me with TWO families. How awesome is that? Very thankful for my family-in-love. :)
>My amigos. How would we survive this world without friends? Unlike our families, we can choose these folks. Some come and go, some will stay a lifetime. Some are just good for having a good time, some you can trust your life with. Either way, we'd go crazy with no friends. So I am very thankful for the people God has put in my life to keep me company. 8:00-5:00 can be a long time when you're not working, hahaha. OH! Speaking of friends. I've got a girlfriend, Red. I got to see her for the first time in like 7 years last month while I was back in the States. She's a strong woman of God and lives her life accordingly. When I saw her last she went on and on about wanting to become a mom, but wasn't sure if it was her "time" yet or not. But I could hear the pain in her voice- she really wanted to be pregnant. All the while, she WAS pregnant and just didn't know it yet. Yesterday she had her first OB appointment and got to see her precious little miracle already at only 8 weeks. Today her and her husband are making the big announcement to the family. God is good. And seeing my friend so happy does my heart good. Love you, Red. You and sweet baby G.R. :)))
On another friend note, I was supposed to be all alone today. I had a lunch date planned for tomorrow, but my girlfriend called me and rescheduled for this afternoon! Cha-ching! I didn't tell her right away how excited I was, but I let her know today over lunch. Which btw, I did prepare with a bit of sliced deli turkey meat. Woot woot! So, after all I was not as pathetic today as I had anticipated. Thank you, God, for my friends. :)
>Another thing I'm very thankful for is Reesh's job. In today's day and time, we're lucky he even has a job. He LOVES his job! LOVES IT! Had it not been for his job, we would have never met. (Or would we have....I go back and forth on this question.) Either way, it sure helped! His job supports our family- we have a roof over our heard, clothes on our back and food on the table, and THAT is enough to be thankful for.
-Aside from these things (and they weren't intentionally set in any order) there's about a million materialistic things I'm thankful for.....but those aren't nearly as important.
I hope anyone reading this (if anyone is....cricket cricket...) takes the time, not just today but everyday, to remember to be thankful for all that you have- even if you don't think it's much.
Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all!
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
There's some good energy flowin'
-Had a nice day today with a nice third-world friend. Sorry, K, if you're reading this. (She's from Macedonia. One time I was telling a story and made reference to people from "third world countries"...there was a moment, she said something, then we both busted a gut laughing.) We have a funny friendship anyway. We barely understand each other, and when we do maybe it's better if we hadn't of. We're just too funny, what can we say? Anyway, we "get" each other. OH! And today I taught her the expression "I got a wild hair up my butt"-- unfortunately while telling a story about cooking. Then she was grossed out and I'm not sure I even finished my story. She's one of my only friends here in the NL that likes to cook/bake/entertain like I do. Today I went so far as to wine and dine her with a cheese quesadilla, canned croissants and a packet of apple cider. What? I wasn't feeling it today. You got fed though, didn't you K?
-So as usual, when all the gossip was out and the last dirty joke was told we got into our serious talk. Isn't it funny how you realize things about yourself once you say them out loud? Like, maybe you always knew that you were a certain way, but until you openly admitted it it never became a reality? Well, that happens to me all the time. Maybe I should just walk around talking to myself. Hell, what am I even blogging for- I should be sitting in the corner somewhere just telling myself all of this stuff. Hehe. So my realization today was that I put forth so much energy, too much energy, into thinking about what everyone else is thinking about. Mostly about me. "What are other people thinking about me?" I think the things that bother me about myself don't really actually bother me that much. But I think maybe they might bother someone else. So then I let it become my problem. It's also possible that no one else has ever been bothered by that thing, I just think they might, so I get bothered about it myself. So I create the whole problem in my head....and then act it out. I may have lost you at cheese quesadilla. What I'm getting at is, I really shouldn't give a damn and I know I shouldn't but I do. So maybe I should try to work on that. I know that I am critical of other people at times, so I guess I just always expect other people to be critical of me all the time- and most of the time I have a difficult time being comfortable in my own skin. I'm pretty sure all of this started when I moved here to the NL. I had always been a fairly confident person. Very outgoing. Never shy, never met a stranger. Over here I'm like my own evil twin. Insecure, shy, stand-offish, intimidated. I also find that I'm afraid to finish things because of failure in the end. That's a big thing to admit, but I'm keepin' it real here in blog-land. So as I acknowledge these things, I throw them into the prayer bucket and give them up to someone bigger than me that can help me deal with them. :)
-On a more positive note, I did get some special treatment this afternoon. Remember my third-world girlfriend K? She is a Reiki practitioner. I'd actually never heard of Reiki until I met her and then I read up on it a bit. Here's the Wikipedia link if you've never heard of it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reiki
Once I found out that it's not religion-based and really just a spiritual practice, I was more open to it. Jr., here, is still a breech baby at 31 weeks and hasn't changed positions since at least 19 weeks gestation so I'm wondering if he'll ever flip, or if he's just cozy and content with his head wedged in my ribs. While googling ways to turn a breech baby, I came across an article that promoted the use of energy and reflexology. Well, Reiki = use of energy. So I wrote K and asked her what she thought and if she'd be willing to do a session with me. So we did today. No funny business- incense or anything, haha. I just layed down on my back on the couch and she used her hands to hover over or touch certain points on my body (eyes/temple area, jawline, ribs, belly, knee caps (my favorite) and the soles of my feet.) She asked me afterward what I felt, and I just told her I liked the knee cap part- really, it was nice. Anyway, each position got held for about 5 minutes before moving to the next. Had she gone any longer I probably could've taken a nap- which she says is normal. She explained to me that she wasn't going to use the energy to try and get Jr. to move because he will move when he is good and ready, but maybe there is an underlying issue (maybe even with me) preventing him from the great migration. So the energy knows where it needs to go without being directed. And sometimes energy can be directed towards something we want, but might not necessarily be the best thing for us or the best answer. Kind of like prayer, I think. Ya know the country song about how some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers? We don't always get what we want, but instead we get what's best for us. So, energy, what ya got?
-So as usual, when all the gossip was out and the last dirty joke was told we got into our serious talk. Isn't it funny how you realize things about yourself once you say them out loud? Like, maybe you always knew that you were a certain way, but until you openly admitted it it never became a reality? Well, that happens to me all the time. Maybe I should just walk around talking to myself. Hell, what am I even blogging for- I should be sitting in the corner somewhere just telling myself all of this stuff. Hehe. So my realization today was that I put forth so much energy, too much energy, into thinking about what everyone else is thinking about. Mostly about me. "What are other people thinking about me?" I think the things that bother me about myself don't really actually bother me that much. But I think maybe they might bother someone else. So then I let it become my problem. It's also possible that no one else has ever been bothered by that thing, I just think they might, so I get bothered about it myself. So I create the whole problem in my head....and then act it out. I may have lost you at cheese quesadilla. What I'm getting at is, I really shouldn't give a damn and I know I shouldn't but I do. So maybe I should try to work on that. I know that I am critical of other people at times, so I guess I just always expect other people to be critical of me all the time- and most of the time I have a difficult time being comfortable in my own skin. I'm pretty sure all of this started when I moved here to the NL. I had always been a fairly confident person. Very outgoing. Never shy, never met a stranger. Over here I'm like my own evil twin. Insecure, shy, stand-offish, intimidated. I also find that I'm afraid to finish things because of failure in the end. That's a big thing to admit, but I'm keepin' it real here in blog-land. So as I acknowledge these things, I throw them into the prayer bucket and give them up to someone bigger than me that can help me deal with them. :)
-On a more positive note, I did get some special treatment this afternoon. Remember my third-world girlfriend K? She is a Reiki practitioner. I'd actually never heard of Reiki until I met her and then I read up on it a bit. Here's the Wikipedia link if you've never heard of it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reiki
Once I found out that it's not religion-based and really just a spiritual practice, I was more open to it. Jr., here, is still a breech baby at 31 weeks and hasn't changed positions since at least 19 weeks gestation so I'm wondering if he'll ever flip, or if he's just cozy and content with his head wedged in my ribs. While googling ways to turn a breech baby, I came across an article that promoted the use of energy and reflexology. Well, Reiki = use of energy. So I wrote K and asked her what she thought and if she'd be willing to do a session with me. So we did today. No funny business- incense or anything, haha. I just layed down on my back on the couch and she used her hands to hover over or touch certain points on my body (eyes/temple area, jawline, ribs, belly, knee caps (my favorite) and the soles of my feet.) She asked me afterward what I felt, and I just told her I liked the knee cap part- really, it was nice. Anyway, each position got held for about 5 minutes before moving to the next. Had she gone any longer I probably could've taken a nap- which she says is normal. She explained to me that she wasn't going to use the energy to try and get Jr. to move because he will move when he is good and ready, but maybe there is an underlying issue (maybe even with me) preventing him from the great migration. So the energy knows where it needs to go without being directed. And sometimes energy can be directed towards something we want, but might not necessarily be the best thing for us or the best answer. Kind of like prayer, I think. Ya know the country song about how some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers? We don't always get what we want, but instead we get what's best for us. So, energy, what ya got?
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Broken jello pelvis. I know, right?!?!
-If I had known I was to be doing half-naked pilates at my physical therapy appointment this morning, I might have taken a few extra precautions....like shaving all the way up my thighs instead of stopping at the knees. How was I supposed to know? I even put extra thought into choosing my best sweatpants to wear so I wouldn't have to do lunges in jeans. Ok, obviously this was my first physical therapy appointment. Ever.
>I'm about 8 months pregnant. So it's not too strange (I hope..) that I haven't shaved my legs in two weeks. Maybe three. Who's counting? But by the sweet grace of God I had the urge to do so this morning- and thankfully so. And for the first time in a long time it actually paid off. While singing Deanna Carter's, "Did I shave my legs for this," I can confidently say to myself, "Yes, yes I did."
>Another thing. My underwear. Maybe I'm the only one who fusses over such things, but let me explain. At my very first midwife appointment I wore a dress. I was adamant about wearing that dress (it was finally nice enough to wear a summer dress in the NL) even knowing I would have to pull it up to my chin during my belly exam. It's all good as long as you have the right britches on. See, I couldn't wear granny panties, for obvious reasons- you don't wanna be remembered by your midwife as "the frumpy lady". I couldn't wear a thong and be remembered as "the thong lady." Finding the right pair of panties took me about 20 minutes that morning. Cute boy shorts....full coverage (in the front at least), not frumpy, non-sheer material, double-checked for holes...right on. Had I known the first words out of this lady's mouth this morning would have been, "Ok, go ahead and remove your pants and lay on the table," (but in Dutch, of course) I would've landed right back in the "picky panty party." Once again, big man upstairs had my back(side) and I chose the red polka-dot boy shorts. CUTE! It's the little things, folks... :)
>So she had me lay in all kinds of funky positions while she poked me and asked "Does this hurt?" Well, yeah lady, your bony fingers pushed into my back actually does cause a bit of discomfort now that you mention it. Then she had me, in my cute polka-dotted britches, walk around the room several times so she could watch my feet, legs and hips as I walked. Closest to a catwalk I'll ever come, I guess. Ha!
>So anyway, today was pretty much my assessment day and then I go back in two weeks or so for some of the real stuff. Don't worry, I'm already planning out my underwear situation for that appointment. Oh hey, did I mention this lady is a pelvic specialist? I guess this means mine is still there, otherwise she might have noticed. My pelvis...
......I'm totally sitting here at the dining room table (excuse me, my FABULOUS antique French farm table from the year 1880...yes, that was my moment) bouncing on a stability ball. I've been doing this for almost 2 weeks now. Supposedly a great (one of the best) workouts you can do for your back/stomach muscles. Sit/bounce/wiggle on a stability ball with a straight back for at least 30 minutes. And it's totally helped with the pelvic pain. Like, tremendously!
-I had a tea date today with a nice friend, M, who is also the owner of the B&B down the street where my mom stayed for our wedding. She'll also be staying there when she comes for Junior's birth. I learned that I'm not the only one who has a difficult time telling people how I really feel. What's the deal with that anyway? I find myself having problems with people and instead of getting it out there in the open, I avoid confrontation at all expenses and keep my mouth shut. Then I start to resent those people. That's not fair. To me or them, I guess. So anyway, I know this about myself and it's something I really want to improve on. Just let them heifers have it! Haha, kidding. In all seriousness though- I'm about to be a mom. How can I stand up for my family if I can't even stand up for myself. It's easy to talk smack. Gotta grow some.
>Speaking of crap that really annoys me, I have GOT to delete myself from that retarded Zulily site. Seriously? I don't even remember my log in info and they send me an e-mail everyday! I'm sitting here trying to blog about important stuff and my phone is dinging non-stop. Well, my mother is also stalking me on facebook with Madea videos.
*I want to be just like Madea when I grow up* That fool is straight crazy! And don't nobody, NO. BODY., be messin' with her!
-Somehow the day has slipped away from me between my p.t. appointment, a nap, a tea date and blogging. I have a lunch date tomorrow here at my house, and to put it nicely....well, I just can't. My house is to' up from the flo' up. And I need to bake cookies. Yes, I NEED to. And instead of cleaning and baking and going to the grocery store like I NEED to, I just wanna sit in the floor like a big pregnant hippie and work on my rag rug and miss my husband. Responsibilities......
>I'm about 8 months pregnant. So it's not too strange (I hope..) that I haven't shaved my legs in two weeks. Maybe three. Who's counting? But by the sweet grace of God I had the urge to do so this morning- and thankfully so. And for the first time in a long time it actually paid off. While singing Deanna Carter's, "Did I shave my legs for this," I can confidently say to myself, "Yes, yes I did."
>Another thing. My underwear. Maybe I'm the only one who fusses over such things, but let me explain. At my very first midwife appointment I wore a dress. I was adamant about wearing that dress (it was finally nice enough to wear a summer dress in the NL) even knowing I would have to pull it up to my chin during my belly exam. It's all good as long as you have the right britches on. See, I couldn't wear granny panties, for obvious reasons- you don't wanna be remembered by your midwife as "the frumpy lady". I couldn't wear a thong and be remembered as "the thong lady." Finding the right pair of panties took me about 20 minutes that morning. Cute boy shorts....full coverage (in the front at least), not frumpy, non-sheer material, double-checked for holes...right on. Had I known the first words out of this lady's mouth this morning would have been, "Ok, go ahead and remove your pants and lay on the table," (but in Dutch, of course) I would've landed right back in the "picky panty party." Once again, big man upstairs had my back(side) and I chose the red polka-dot boy shorts. CUTE! It's the little things, folks... :)
>So she had me lay in all kinds of funky positions while she poked me and asked "Does this hurt?" Well, yeah lady, your bony fingers pushed into my back actually does cause a bit of discomfort now that you mention it. Then she had me, in my cute polka-dotted britches, walk around the room several times so she could watch my feet, legs and hips as I walked. Closest to a catwalk I'll ever come, I guess. Ha!
>So anyway, today was pretty much my assessment day and then I go back in two weeks or so for some of the real stuff. Don't worry, I'm already planning out my underwear situation for that appointment. Oh hey, did I mention this lady is a pelvic specialist? I guess this means mine is still there, otherwise she might have noticed. My pelvis...
......I'm totally sitting here at the dining room table (excuse me, my FABULOUS antique French farm table from the year 1880...yes, that was my moment) bouncing on a stability ball. I've been doing this for almost 2 weeks now. Supposedly a great (one of the best) workouts you can do for your back/stomach muscles. Sit/bounce/wiggle on a stability ball with a straight back for at least 30 minutes. And it's totally helped with the pelvic pain. Like, tremendously!
-I had a tea date today with a nice friend, M, who is also the owner of the B&B down the street where my mom stayed for our wedding. She'll also be staying there when she comes for Junior's birth. I learned that I'm not the only one who has a difficult time telling people how I really feel. What's the deal with that anyway? I find myself having problems with people and instead of getting it out there in the open, I avoid confrontation at all expenses and keep my mouth shut. Then I start to resent those people. That's not fair. To me or them, I guess. So anyway, I know this about myself and it's something I really want to improve on. Just let them heifers have it! Haha, kidding. In all seriousness though- I'm about to be a mom. How can I stand up for my family if I can't even stand up for myself. It's easy to talk smack. Gotta grow some.
>Speaking of crap that really annoys me, I have GOT to delete myself from that retarded Zulily site. Seriously? I don't even remember my log in info and they send me an e-mail everyday! I'm sitting here trying to blog about important stuff and my phone is dinging non-stop. Well, my mother is also stalking me on facebook with Madea videos.
*I want to be just like Madea when I grow up* That fool is straight crazy! And don't nobody, NO. BODY., be messin' with her!
-Somehow the day has slipped away from me between my p.t. appointment, a nap, a tea date and blogging. I have a lunch date tomorrow here at my house, and to put it nicely....well, I just can't. My house is to' up from the flo' up. And I need to bake cookies. Yes, I NEED to. And instead of cleaning and baking and going to the grocery store like I NEED to, I just wanna sit in the floor like a big pregnant hippie and work on my rag rug and miss my husband. Responsibilities......
Monday, November 21, 2011
That took too long.
-Ok, so far I suck at blogging. I really need to discipline myself into making it a regular habit...amongst others such as flossing daily, turning off lights in empty rooms and rinsing off dishes before stacking them in the dishwasher. Just keepin' it real.
-Today is Day 2 of being home alone since Reesh left for Germany. Sometimes his job really cramps my lifestyle. But then I remember I am a stay-at-home mom to a dog and wouldn't have a lifestyle if it weren't for his job. Shit.
>So anyway. Let's chalk it up to pregnancy hormones if you will- I was SUCH a whiny baby about him having to leave this time. I mean, as a military wife, it pretty much goes without saying that you might be spending a good amount of time playing bachelorette (and, no...I don't mean the slutty military wife kind who takes that a bit too literal) waiting impatiently for him to come home. But does it ever get easier? I was raised in a military home. My dad was gone a lot. I always remember my mom saying she thought it would get easier, but instead it got more difficult with each "goodbye."
>Ok, he's only gone for two weeks. Not the end of the world, I know. But I've teared up less when he's gone to Afghanistan. What's the deal? I don't know, PREGNANT & EMOTIONAL, why don't you tell me?
>Before I'm done bitching, let me ice this cake. Fifth year in a row sans a Thanksgiving dinner. Second year sitting home all alone because Mr. Apache pilot is in Germany. Both thumbs down!
-So what am I doing with myself for two weeks? Every time Reesh leaves I always get super motivated to do crazy stuff. Like, crack-head clean the pantry, save some money and lose 10 pounds. I usually spend too much money at the grocery store, cram it all in the pantry and eat it all before he gets home- thus definitely not losing 10 pounds.
>Well, the night before he left we royally jacked up our beautiful white leather couch- an obvious pre-"we want kids"-purchase. My mom bought me, in every color, these warm cozy socks with anti-slip rubber dots on the bottom. Ya know, the ones that come off in the first use...you walk around your house picking up rubber dots asking yourself, "WTH is this??" Yep. Those. Anyway, I happened to be wearing the black ones the other night, all warm and snug on the couch. Then, THEN, I notice little black polka dots all over our WHITE couch. It happens. White couch = magnet for any and everything. But it's all good, it's leather. A bit of spit on your index finger, a swirly motion and voila!- it comes right up. Except this time I'm left with spit on my finger and a Dalmatian couch. Alright, if the spit finger doesn't work, I just whip up a bit of baking soda paste, apply, let sit, and wipe off. Does the trick every time. No such luck this time, no sir. In one (very) dramatic attempt to salvage our couch, we began adding a little bit of everything to the spots to get them up. Shout it out, bleach (don't judge me), vinegar, white laundry soap, some powder stuff I have for removing stains, non-acetone nail polish remover. Ok, that was HIS idea. He found it on Google. "I will have nothing to do with that," said I. So now there's two spots (about corn kernel size'ish) where the top layer of leather....is no more. ON TOP of the polka dots. Lovely. In my desperate attempt to rid our perfect couch from the spots, I grabbed an old toothbrush and began scrubbing away. What I discovered was the "graying" that slowly happened to our couch wasn't denim stains, or general usage- it was scum (yuck) in the grooves of the textured leather. Who knew? So back to my original question of how I will be spending my next two weeks- that's right...scrubbing a large corner couch with a *blankety-blank-blank* toothbrush. See, hunny, I told you that me not having a job would pay off one day. We've got the cleanest couch on the block. Because your pregnant wife spent 6 days scrubbing it with a toothbrush. She rocks, doesn't she? :)
>Other than that b.s., I'll be crafting (uh oh, you guys don't know nothin' 'bout no rag rugs yet!), entertaining a few girlfriends, cleaning, organising Jr.'s nursery, and whatever else I can find to keep myself from..... finding more cupcake recipes on Pinterest.
-In pregnancy news: I have an appointment bright and early tomorrow morning with a physical therapist for my jello pelvis. I told Richard the other day, upon listening to some dumb joke, that if I had a pelvis I would "get off this couch and smack you." Haha. Seriously, folks, this is no joke. For the past month every bone in my below-the-belt region has felt like it's fallen victim to a Jackie Chan karate kick. No. More like Chuck Norris. Yeah. That's how it feels. So, tomorrow I will see a pelvic specialist and here's to hoping she can provide me with some much-needed relief.
>OH! Tomorrow I will also be raising the bar to 31 weeks. Can I get a woot woot?
-Yo, that's it for today. I'm outie!
-Today is Day 2 of being home alone since Reesh left for Germany. Sometimes his job really cramps my lifestyle. But then I remember I am a stay-at-home mom to a dog and wouldn't have a lifestyle if it weren't for his job. Shit.
>So anyway. Let's chalk it up to pregnancy hormones if you will- I was SUCH a whiny baby about him having to leave this time. I mean, as a military wife, it pretty much goes without saying that you might be spending a good amount of time playing bachelorette (and, no...I don't mean the slutty military wife kind who takes that a bit too literal) waiting impatiently for him to come home. But does it ever get easier? I was raised in a military home. My dad was gone a lot. I always remember my mom saying she thought it would get easier, but instead it got more difficult with each "goodbye."
>Ok, he's only gone for two weeks. Not the end of the world, I know. But I've teared up less when he's gone to Afghanistan. What's the deal? I don't know, PREGNANT & EMOTIONAL, why don't you tell me?
>Before I'm done bitching, let me ice this cake. Fifth year in a row sans a Thanksgiving dinner. Second year sitting home all alone because Mr. Apache pilot is in Germany. Both thumbs down!
-So what am I doing with myself for two weeks? Every time Reesh leaves I always get super motivated to do crazy stuff. Like, crack-head clean the pantry, save some money and lose 10 pounds. I usually spend too much money at the grocery store, cram it all in the pantry and eat it all before he gets home- thus definitely not losing 10 pounds.
>Well, the night before he left we royally jacked up our beautiful white leather couch- an obvious pre-"we want kids"-purchase. My mom bought me, in every color, these warm cozy socks with anti-slip rubber dots on the bottom. Ya know, the ones that come off in the first use...you walk around your house picking up rubber dots asking yourself, "WTH is this??" Yep. Those. Anyway, I happened to be wearing the black ones the other night, all warm and snug on the couch. Then, THEN, I notice little black polka dots all over our WHITE couch. It happens. White couch = magnet for any and everything. But it's all good, it's leather. A bit of spit on your index finger, a swirly motion and voila!- it comes right up. Except this time I'm left with spit on my finger and a Dalmatian couch. Alright, if the spit finger doesn't work, I just whip up a bit of baking soda paste, apply, let sit, and wipe off. Does the trick every time. No such luck this time, no sir. In one (very) dramatic attempt to salvage our couch, we began adding a little bit of everything to the spots to get them up. Shout it out, bleach (don't judge me), vinegar, white laundry soap, some powder stuff I have for removing stains, non-acetone nail polish remover. Ok, that was HIS idea. He found it on Google. "I will have nothing to do with that," said I. So now there's two spots (about corn kernel size'ish) where the top layer of leather....is no more. ON TOP of the polka dots. Lovely. In my desperate attempt to rid our perfect couch from the spots, I grabbed an old toothbrush and began scrubbing away. What I discovered was the "graying" that slowly happened to our couch wasn't denim stains, or general usage- it was scum (yuck) in the grooves of the textured leather. Who knew? So back to my original question of how I will be spending my next two weeks- that's right...scrubbing a large corner couch with a *blankety-blank-blank* toothbrush. See, hunny, I told you that me not having a job would pay off one day. We've got the cleanest couch on the block. Because your pregnant wife spent 6 days scrubbing it with a toothbrush. She rocks, doesn't she? :)
>Other than that b.s., I'll be crafting (uh oh, you guys don't know nothin' 'bout no rag rugs yet!), entertaining a few girlfriends, cleaning, organising Jr.'s nursery, and whatever else I can find to keep myself from..... finding more cupcake recipes on Pinterest.
-In pregnancy news: I have an appointment bright and early tomorrow morning with a physical therapist for my jello pelvis. I told Richard the other day, upon listening to some dumb joke, that if I had a pelvis I would "get off this couch and smack you." Haha. Seriously, folks, this is no joke. For the past month every bone in my below-the-belt region has felt like it's fallen victim to a Jackie Chan karate kick. No. More like Chuck Norris. Yeah. That's how it feels. So, tomorrow I will see a pelvic specialist and here's to hoping she can provide me with some much-needed relief.
>OH! Tomorrow I will also be raising the bar to 31 weeks. Can I get a woot woot?
-Yo, that's it for today. I'm outie!
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