our new favorite hangout:

I'll let Waaz fill you in on the exciting events of yesterday. Suffice to say, it was not a nap day. BUT, God answers prayers and my car not only looks pretty on the inside, but it also runs beautifully as well.


oh, and ps: you were right again, mom. always bring a camera. I'm kicking myself for being negligent; I could have had the perfect picture to go along with D's forthcoming blog but alas, pregnant brain strikes again. and, am I the only one who thinks it spreads? certain people in this household have demonstrated "related-to-pregnant-lady-brain" on several recent occasions...

let's get this party started

36 weeks according to BabyCenter.com:
How your baby's growing: Your baby is still putting on the pounds — about an ounce a day. He now weighs almost 6 pounds [2 weeks ago the estimate was 5, so he may or may not be more than 6 by now] and is a little less than 19 inches long. He's shedding most of the downy covering of hair that covered his body as well as the vernix caseosa, the creamy substance that covered and protected his skin during its submersion in amniotic fluid. Your baby swallows both of these substances, along with other secretions, which will stay in his bowels until birth. This blackish mixture, called meconium, will become his first bowel movement.

I am officially 1 cm. as of this afternoon. Could stay that way for weeks, could intensify tonight, who knows. All I know is that as of this weekend, the BH are definitely coming more frequently. I had three on the way from the doctor's to Erin's, for goodness sake. And when I'm not contracting, this kid is either hiccuping or trying to shove his way out right through my ribcage and/or belly button. No question about how he's lying, that's for sure. It's pretty amusing to look in the mirror and realize that my stomach is lopsided, and has been for quite awhile.

I'll be considered full term next week, so as soon as my bag is packed, this kid can come anytime he wants. I'm not at the too-uncomfortable-for-words stage, and I'm not sick of being pregnant, but having him a bit early (provided there are no unforseen medical issues) would really be convenient, lol. I know, I know, since when are babies convenient, but it really would be easier to get all of our paperwork done and I'd feel better about traveling if he was a little older when the time came. Besides, that would give us more time to get used to each other before I have to come home and share. The H is perhaps more anxious than I am, he keeps poking my belly and saying "any time now, kid," to which I immediately respond, "well, you can wait a little while at least. I still have to do______, but after that I'm all set!"

I don't think I can deny weighing more than waaz at this point, but it's not by much, dang it! The weight really doesn't bother me, but I am looking forward to when I can step up my routine and get some muscle tone back.

No, there is no set-in-stone name, yet. creek mud, perhaps. Maybe wet sand even. But not concrete, that's for sure.

Our first class (of four) at the hospital is tomorrow; hopefully waaz has the night off so we don't have to leave early or have him get to work late. Taking the classes entitles us to a free hospital dinner (joy of joys) and a slightly better L&D room. The topic for discussion this week is Labor and Delivery, so I def. want him there. I can't wait to see how they cram all of that information into two hours... I don't anticipate learning much, but perhaps we'll get something out of it. I typed up my birth plan today...it's only two and a half pages, double spaced I might add. D wanted to know if everyone did this, or "is this just you, being you?" and of course I informed him that birth plans are quite common. They're just not always as well thought out, that's all. I'm bringing it to the doc for the official "OK" next week.

My secret plan has worked, after many subtle hints, discussions, and links, my mother called today and admitted to thinking about cloth diapers and the various ways to make them "incessantly" (I don't think that was her exact wording, but close). Setting her on the route to find the perfect man- and baby-friendly cloth diaper is so much easier than embarking on that path myself, especially considering I have no sewing machine. Too bad we're about to live so far apart. Yay for moms with semi-obsessive tendancies. I promise, if you make it, my baby will wear it, at least once ;-)

updated 7/22 to add waaaay TMI in white: I think I just lost my mucus plug. interesting.

and an aside to my son:

Seriously, kid,

I know you're supposed to
push your boundaries
test your limits
and
stretch your wings.

But do you have to be such a
PITS* about it?!

See you soon,

~Your loving mother.



*Pain In The Stomach

praise, prayer, and my son

While browsing today in the Message, the modern english version of the Bible which my wonderful Grandmother gave me for Christmas, I came across these words, written by David in Psalms 8: 1-2:

God, brilliant Lord, Yours is a household name.
Nursing infants gurgle choruses about You;
Toddlers shout the songs that drown out enemy talk
And silence athiest babble.

Right after those words are the famous ones that question who we are that God should think of us and put us in charge of the world, but I didn't even get to those, because I was so caught up with the image of my son singing songs about God so loud that Satan can't even be heard. I want that! The kingdom of Heaven belongs to little kids, and it's because they are innocent enough to sing God's praise and do His will without fear or hesitation. And why do children sing to God? Because that is what they know how to do best what they enjoy doing best, unless and until they are taught to do and enjoy other pastimes. What a burden that places on me as a mother, then, to continue teaching them that God's way is the best pastime. It's my job to teach them the songs to sing, it's my job to teach them to sing loud and proud and to drown out every voice that is antagonistic to God's own. How on earth am I supposed to live up to that expectation? How am I going to prepare myself for that responsibility? By singing my own heart out, by coming to God every single day willing to listen and obey, by making His a "household name." If I do that, then my son WILL drown out Satan, and God's name WILL "echo around the world."

Matthew has some insightful advice on just how to begin to achieve that perfect relationship with God. He says (chapter 6):

Here's what I want you to do: find a quiet, secluded place so you won't be tempted to role play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense His grace.
The world is full of so-called prayer warriors who are prayer- ignorant. They're full of formulas and programs and advice, peddling techniques for getting what you want from God. Don't fall for that nonsense. This is your Father you are dealing with, and He knows better than you what you need. With a God like this loving you, you can pray very simply. Like this:
Our Father in heaven, reveal who You are.
Set the world right;
Do what's best--as above, so below.
Keep us alive with three square meals.
Keep us forgiven with You and forgiving others.
Keep us safe from ourselves and the Devil.
You're in charge!
You can do anything You want!
You're ablaze in beauty!
Yes. Yes. Yes."

I want my focus to be on God, and I don't want to be "prayer-ignorant." I talk to God conversationally whenever I unconsciously think of it (which coorelates directly to how much time I've been consciously giving Him), and yet my prayers are usually a lot more complicated and self-serving than the one Matthew holds as an example. "God, help me, help those I love, and oh yeah, You're pretty cool and You've blessed me a lot. But please, I want more" might be a quick summary of the comments I most often direct toward God. And not that there's anything specifically wrong with saying those things. But I know that what I should be saying more often is, "God, you're Awesome. Help me to sing Your songs. You're in charge. Teach me more about You. Set the world straight."

I want to live a life of God Worship, starting (and continuing) from today on, so that my son will naturally do the same. I want to "whistle, laugh, and jump for joy" (Ps. 9:2) because my heart is full, and God really does "set everything right."

What about you?

NOT for the faint of heart:

Our newest tenants:
Yes, that is poison they're sucking down and hopefully bringing back to all their little buddies. It worked great last time, but last time there were only about 25 ants munching on Terro at any given moment. These guys are on their third helping and still yearning for more. Methinks it's about time to contact housing...

That teaches me to leave the floor unmopped for 2 weeks and then have little people over two nights in a row... (I mopped today, fyi*)




*and vacuumed and scrubbed the couch down and folded laundry and did the dishes and bleached the counters and made a cheesecake. I did NOT, however, go to the gym. (who do you think I am, superwoman?)

the Addict vs. the Eunuch

...at least that's what both my mom and my dad thought I was saying when I told them the title for my next post. I am sure that there is an interesting blog attached to that title, but I am SO not going there. Instead, I present the REAL topic of the day:

the Attic vs. the Unit

Now, I've been the Queen of the Attic in the North for almost as long as I can remember, and let me tell you, it's a queendom that leaves much to be desired. After a yearly census and ritual cleansing of the Attic one year, I decided to throw caution to the wind, get married, and conquer a new and foreign land known as the Unit in the South. I must say, it was a wonderful success. Upon removing the last of my belongings from the Attic territory, I gleefully reluctantly cerimoniously relinquished control of the land and passed the throne on to my unsuspecting "little" brother, and contemplated all I would do with the Unit upon my return to the South. (ps: since then, I have been asked to reassume my position on the throne to the North every single time I pass through the forgotten realm, but thus far I have remained strong)
When my mother, the original--albeit sneezy--Queen of the Attic, ventured into unknown (for her) yet very familiar (for me) territory recently, she did it out of love for her grandson-to-be. Her gift arrived at the Unit in the South this past weekend and I, as the residing ruler, was there to receive it. Armed with only a bottle of iced coffee, some water, and a few triscuit-cheese-pepperoni sandwiches, I set to work introducing the new residents to the local villages within the Unit. The sweet sounds of the radio drifting from my car, and I made great headway.
After two hours of hard work, I realized that those sweet sounds had ceased, and so I called in my reinforcement and his Not Dead truck battery. While we waited, I updated him on the status of the new settlement, and by then it was time to send him on his way. I was determined to finish what I had started, and two hours later I stood at the entrance to my domain and declared, "It is Finished. Well, at least this part is. I'll get to the rest eventually." With that, I departed: sweaty, dirty, and desperate for a water closet. Just another day in the life of a Storage Queen.

Below is the summation of my internal debate as to which land I'd rather be ruling. I'll leave it to you savages from another realm to decide for yourselves which is the better opportunity, for I must admit I am about to fly the coop once again. While Prince Tim may retain control of the Attic (and that is highly debatable) the Unit will be up for grabs very soon.


Attic:
+toilet is 5 feet from the entrance
-ceiling is 5 feet at the peak
+slave labor is readily available
-2 little hanging lightbulbs max, NO ventilation
+only as hot as NY ever gets

Unit:
-toilet is 5 miles away
+ceiling is 10 feet all the way across
-slave labor is nonexistant
+an entire doorway open to the light and "fresh" air
-as hot AND humid as MS ever gets


Hmm, I'm sure there were more pros and cons floating around in my head, but for the present moment they escape me. At any rate, I now have a bunch of baby clothes, and they are all sorted and ready-to-go. I even have a dresser to put them in. :) Yay for my mom, and yay for being able to cross one more thing off my to-do-before-the-baby-comes list. Apparantly they're taking up a pot at D's workplace re: the imminent arrival, and my doc has started using words like "drop" and "dilate," so the pressure's on (get it?). Soon, there will be a new prince in town. Good thing there won't be any Storage to be had where we're going, because I daresay he'll need a few years of training before taking on that kind of quest.

happy birthday, mom

I didn't think a cake would make it in the mail, so I'm sending you the most aromatic thing in our house at the moment:












The Sugar Plum Visions lady seems to think you'll enjoy it :)

ps: this is the note she includes next to the pic on her website:: "Edible and Safe! Not as bad as it looks! Cake, cookies and chocolate litter this fresh new box. Everyone gets a scoop!"

32 weeks

babycenter.com says: "By now, your baby probably weighs almost 4 pounds and is almost 17 inches long, taking up a lot of space in your uterus. He has tiny toenails now, and his fingernails have grown in, too. Some babies have a head of hair already; others have only peach fuzz. "

I'm noticing a LOT of movement...taking bets on how long this kid is going to put up with the confines of my belly (hubs thinks he'll be 3 weeks early, I'm rooting for 2; my mother thinks at least a week late). We've got an ultrasound with the tech on Wed. that should give us some guess as to size and hopefully a pic with a few recognizable features, so that'll be fun.

And, just for the record, two years ago Waaz had one medal (and a couple of ribbons). He currently has 8 medals (and a couple of ribbons). Amazing what you can accomplish without really doing much.

two years ago today

all together now, awww :-p


Yes, I was barefoot. At least the pregnant bit didn't come until a year and a half later.



















This is one of my favorites:



















Too late now! (insert crazy cackle)



















The in-laws:















The outlaws:















only here for the food:













The crazy people that pretend to like us enough to "stand up" if need be:















It's harder than it looks. Seriously.



















Happy anniversary, honey. I love you.

"Budgeting for Baby"

...is the name of the class Waaz (as everyone here calls him) and I took this morning.* It was a very informative** class provided by the Navy-Marine Corps Relief Society for individuals/couples about to embark into the world of parenthood and attempting to determine the effect said infant(s) will have on their monthly flow of mula. A retired Marine named Charlie was the instructor, and his wife was there to laugh at the jokes she'd probably heard a million times and to hand out the goodies we received simply for listening to her budget-counscious husband for an hour. Apparently, it's expensive to have a baby. Who knew? Along with a bunch of worksheets to figure out our budget (I already have one, a fact which seems to escape certain tall people in the house. Luckily, he lives by the budget without even realizing it, so all's well), we received a camo booklet to record our expidentures for a month and the following :


















(two each of crib sheets, bibs, sleepers, and blankets, plus some onesies and a hooded towel with matching washcloth)



My mother informs me that there are so many humans (since it's no longer PC to assume it's just women) who have volunteered to make little sweaters, hats, and booties for "Baby's First Seabag" that they aren't accepting more names at this time. When i pulled the booties out of the bag, Waaz's first comment was, "aren't those a little big?" Big enough to fit a 6 month old, as it turns out:

















A six-month old who, by the way, has graciously allowed me to borrow her toes, since I can no longer view my own from above anymore:









I guess this is a joke, kind of like Peek-a-boo, only it's Peek-over-the-belly.














*This class didn't start until 10, so we're talking huge sacrifice on the hubby's part to work all night and not go to bed until we got back at around noon. He deserves almost as many kudos as he does for his reply when I let Kiersha fuss for about 20 minutes a few days ago before realizing that he was asleep in the other room. I apologised, and he said, "Well, she's gotta learn to fix herself sometime." Wasn't upset at me at all. What a great guy.


*well, informative for those in society who don't already know everything. I personally was bored stiff. Waaz spent his time attempting to unlock his phone and practicing writing with his left hand, but I think he was more trying to stay awake than stave off boredom.

My newest scheme

So, I have come up with a money making endevour that sounds fun and exciting, at least to me. E wasn't all that thrilled about it, but that could be because I told her about it while I was getting a midnight snack at 2:30 this morning. Oh well maybe she will come around later.
Anyway, here is the plan:
1. While in Italy procure two Cane Corso Mastiffs
2. Provide said dogs with food water and shelter
3. Wait for nature to run its course (said dogs will be opposite gender)
4. Sell their offspring for lucrative profits
I think it should work, although the dogs may be pricey and I am not sure what the deal with bringing live animals into the states is, if they didn't originate here that is. More research is necessary before I commit to this one I think.
So who wants to buy a dog off me, in four years?

What to do if your H is sleeping the morning away:

This morning I decided that instead of reading, playing on the computer, and trying to really quietly pick up the house a bit, I decided to go wait in line at the DMV to get a replacement licence (lost my wallet a few weeks ago, very annoying). On my way, I decided to stop at Goodwill to see if they had any summery maternity shirts and to find a new book to read so I wouldn't be reduced to picking at my nails at the DMV waiting for my number to be called. Two hours, several post-baby shirts, a bunch of baby books, and a few adorable pieces of boy clothes later, I arrived at the DMV. Amazingly, the line was pretty short. Hooray! I was only there one hour, and apparently people lose their licences a lot, because it was only $5 to replace. You'll be glad to know I am once again a legal driver complete with proof of identity. Oh, and the book was a Michael Crighton medical thriller. Pretty good so far, but I'm only about 2 chapters in.

Tonight is JT's birthday party. I, being the aunt that I am, I got him a copy of The Borrowers Afloat and There's a Mastadon in My Living Room , and D (being the uncle that he is) is picking up a copy of Madagascar. (VERY cute movie, btw) We're planning to bring the camera, so hopefully there'll be a cute picture or two of the happy event.

speaking of countdowns,

I once received a daisy chain counting the days until my beau would arrive to sweep me away. When I hung it up, it went all the way around the room and completely framed the doorway. While depressing at first, it was kind of fun later to tear off whole chunks at a time until the last few rings made it into my "put this in the scrapbook at some point" folder.

"These are a few of my favorite things"*

~Maxwell House singles coffee pods. Since I drink coffee so rarely when I'm not pregnant, I drink it even more rarely now that I am (think maybe once a week. breathe, Dr. S) ;-p. But, I do like to have a little of the dark stuff on hand, especially when I find fancy creamer on sale. Like this week. Yum. It's not so good when my coffee-bearing hand decides to jerk randomly just as I'm sitting down at the computer desk...but hey, I already know I need to refinish this particular antique, so it's all good. I just wish I could remember to get the glass piece that's supposed to protect against all this wear and tear from the unit to protect against the clumsy bug that seems to be going around.

~Terry Pratchett. A very funny man who has written a bunch of books about an alternate world that could be either totally make-believe fun stories or some form of political/cultural satire. My buddy from high school recently sent me a few of his doubles.** I was on the couch all day yesterday reading finishing this one---------------------------->
so that Toucan*** could take it to work. I think I'm going to attempt to save the rest of the stack for long airplane trips and middle-of-the-night-why-did-I-ever-agree-to-a-kid-only-I- can-feed kind of moments.

LeMec (said buddy's moniker of choice, at least as of a few years ago) also sent over what he seems to think will be the "bundle of joy"(his words, not mine)'s first storybook------->
The jury is still out on whether the Gammlemor****, who is convinced that her first grandchild will be the smartest and bestest ever, will approve.


THANKS, LeMec!!


~Countdowns. Three months is not nearly as manageable as 10 weeks, or 68 days. Of course, Gammlemor thinks it'll be more like 11 or 12 weeks, and Toucan and I are hoping for closer to 8 weeks, so we'll see. Did you know that less than 5% of women actually deliver on their due date? This is why I keep saying "end of July" every time I'm asked. Although the "middle of July" would be just fine too. Something about letting the kid develop a bit and get used to the world before flying halfway around it appeals to the first-time-mother in me.

~The Cat. No, seriously. He jumped up on the couch yesterday and proceeded to curl up on top of my belly and start purring. When the kid kicked him, he simply moved up to my chest (without ever opening his eyes, I might add), and consented to a few pets before going to make sure that his food dish was still empty. And then, when Gore's kid was here--6 months old and already mastered the army scramble--, he let her get all the way up to him before he looked at me like I was crazy for allowing her to locomote. This same cat let Gore pet him for a whole five seconds last night. I'm never switching cat food brands again.

~BIG Commissaries. It was so nice to go to a real grocery store this week. The commissary had their grand opening on Monday, complete with drawings for everything from a jetski to a riding lawnmower. The nephew won an oreo stacking contest and got a bag full of oreos (go figure); the husband stood in the LOOOOOOONG line while I shopped and had the niece run items from me to the cart, and the SIL tasted all the samples. The common consensus is that the key lime pie was the best, especially since the coupons made it 50 cents a slice. By the time we were done, I was tired and the cart was FULL. Granted, I almost tripled my usual grocery bill for the week, but some of those items had been on my list for months. At least I have the satisfaction of knowing that even if Y2K made a belated entrance tomorrow, I could STILL feed my entire street for a week.

This is your local pregnant chick, signing out.


*When I was a kid, mom would occasionally often take a nap in the afternoons and I was relegated to matching socks if I didn't want to also take a rest. Usually a movie was involved, to help soften the linty blow.
It was always fun trying to guess which I would finish first: the three hour long favorite, The Sound of Music (yes I still know almost all the words to all the songs), or the socks, which had been known to overflow two big laundry baskets at once. By the way, the movie usually won. Yes, we had that many socks. What can I say...feet seem to run in the family.
**books that he happened to have 2 of--in case you're wondering, my kid's library at the moment consists almost entirely of my own mother's doubles. If you have any of your own (doubles, not kids) to contribute, please do! Free books are definitely one of my favorite things.
***Toucan is the moniker coined for Mr. Mira (otherwise known as "H" or "D") by a few of my campers this past summer. Can you tell I'm trying to figure out what to call him here in blogland? Suggestions are appreciated.
****norwegian for grandma, apparently. huh.

The object of such controversy

or, "how to get excommunicated in minutes"

I just though you all should have some pictures to direct your angst. Or you could drool, depending on which side of the fence you sit on.














~d

a recent conversation at the waasup residence:

h: WHOA!
me: what?
h: look at that!
me: look at what?!
h: your belly.
me: what about it?
h: It's huge!
me: .....um....yeah....
h: you should really work on that. I mean, that's like 17 pounds in 7 months.
me: it's a good thing I'm pregnant.
h: yeah.
me: 'cus you'd DEFinitely be in trouble otherwise.
h: yeah probably. hehe.
me: (rolls eyes) wow...
h: what?
me: you.
h: what about me?
me: just you.

You owe me $250

additionally, are you sure this is your baby and not your other inside parts? I'll bet the REAL picture is better? This guy really needs practice.

so...whose nose IS that?

My OB wanted to play around with the 4d machine, because he "hasn't had much practice" and wanted to get a feel for how to use the new technology. My belly just happened to be available, so two days ago I hopped up on the bed and enjoyed a very brief look at the kid. Doc was right; he is not exactly as proficient with the U/S wand as, say, the technician who did my first U/S. But hey, everything still looks normal and the kid is...or at least was at the time... head down and a bit camera shy. He is also still a boy, according to mutual guesstimation from the brief glimpse we were granted.
To those of you who don't peruse the various baby sites almost daily, 4D ultrasound is basically a cheap way for the medical society to grab a few more $$ from the hormone-riddled pregnant population. I was asked--repeatedly--if I wanted one, to the tune of $250. I politely declined, presuming the kid would rather I buy him wicked cool toys or perhaps some socks. Anyway, to take a 4D picture, the technician (or under-experienced doc) uses the ultrasound machine to find your kid and freezes the best shot(s) he/she can find. In our case the kid held still just long enough to get a good profile. I think it was supposed to be a full-on face shot, but the other half is pretty blurred, so I suggested that "if you turn it so you can only see the profile, it looks like you meant to do that, Dr J!" ...was that sarcastic? perhaps...
Then you run this special 4d computer program, which kind of "fills in the blanks" and gives you a computer-generated guess of what your kid actually looks like. Most of the 4D pictures I've seen are sepia toned and pretty detailed, like this one taken from amazingpregnancy.com , but mine was in black and white. I suppose if I'd forked over the $250 (which, coincidentally, is how much one of our debt checks is each month), I might have gotten the extra-special sepia tone. That and a dvd full of excellent shots of the kid. Alas, I am cheap and only have one to offer:

ps: we decided his hand is squishing his nose; in the normal u/s we could see his hand waving around a lot near his face. the guess is he was attempting to mine for gold. I swear the kid is going to make us rich one day :-)

The Project is Complete

A while ago I posted about my new project. As you may recall it used to be white and it used to be a car. Now it's green and it's a stack. More to come with what I do with this project.