Belly Story

The Light

2011-01-20T01:10:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned yesterday, my husband graduated college after many, many, many years and sidetracks, and giving ups, and life getting in the way of life. Also for those many, many, many years, he has held the same job as a manager of a national chain grocery store. This has offered a decent salary and pretty great benefits...but it's also offered the crappiest schedule ever for a family who actually wants to hang out with each other. He has two days off during the week. On the bright side, has allowed him to watch the kids and become a pretty fantastic and confident dad. On the other hand, this means that we almost never get to have an entire day off together. He also often works shifts in the evening. This means a lot of solo days/nights of solo parenting for me. And not too much couple togetherness for us.

So now that he's a fancy new grad, he has started the official job hunt. Last week, he was brought in to take an exam for a company to see if they'd even let him interview. He passed, and had his first interview today. It went great. This is more and more seeming like one of those dreamy dream jobs that comes along once in a lifetime where they pay good, amazing benefits, a bajillion days off a year, and they will meticulously train him in his exact chosen field for a frakkin year before they expect him to be able to do things by himself. For a 30-something dude who is starting out fresh after working 20 years in customer service, this is pretty amazing stuff. He wants this job so so so so so so bad and holy god, if he doesn't get it, it's gonna get all kinds of ugly up in our house. I have that motherly holding my breath *omg i want this to work out SO bad* thing going on....and not just for the changes it will bring to my life, but for all the things it will do to/for him....his self-esteem, getting to experience a REAL job, working with NORMAL non-16 year old people. Have you ever really looked at the people working in grocery stores? Around 94% of them are...off.

I've been putting out some serious vibes to the universe, begging and pleading to the powers that be. C'mon, universe. We need this one.

Recap

2011-01-19T12:53:00.000-08:00

So, it's January now. Okay, then.

How did NaNoWriMo go, you wonder? I got about 463 words in before I realized I was most definitely not having fun. I wasn't enjoying any part of the process, and checking the word count after each sentence, as if it was going to be 50,000 words after a couple of days. It reminded me of writing papers in college and the entire time, the voice inside my head is grumbling about all the other things I'd rather be doing, including cleaning the kitchen. I think when I'd rather be scrubbing the grout in my floor tile, that I should reevaluate the project that I'm doing for fun. Plus, I read this article that said even though some things may seem obvious (i like to write, i write for my job, i'm okay at it, so I should write a book...) sometimes it just takes you down a path (...but what i really like is telling a story, but not through the written word) and you realize that a series of events in leading you down a different path to what you really love. So, I'm working on flushing that out.

Also in November, my baby turned one. And my husband graduated college after taking classes for 20 (twenty) (yes, i know) years.

And then this funny thing happened. I realized I LOVE my job. Prior to this, when a friend would ask how I'm liking it, I would say "It's good. A solid job. Cool people" and that was about it. "Sooo, you don't like it?" they would ask. "No, no! It's good." Then, they would do that "MMMkay" thing with their eyebrows and we'd move on to the next subject. But all of a sudden, I think all that residual anger over being laid off from my last job finally went away and I realized "Oh, holy shit! This job is freaking awesome." Seriously - a great salary, a flexible schedule, an interesting work load, an amazing smart boss who wants me to move up and make more money and always has my back, cool coworkers who I get along with wonderfully, and (recent development) my own office.

It's becoming more and more obvious how ridiculously lucky that I am.

A start

2010-10-28T11:08:00.000-07:00

At lunch the other day, my mom and I were reminiscing about some of my more ridiculous teenage behavior. She brought up the time that I glued 100 pennies to the windowsill in my room and how I was utterly perplexed at her displeasure.

I laughed and said, "You were very tolerant."

She laughed, but then stopped, looked me in the eyes and said, "Well, so were you, so we are even."

We looked at each order, both of our mouths turning up into slightly awkward smiles and our brains each conjuring up different alcohol infused memories. Although she had apologized when I visited her in rehab over 3 years ago, this was the first time she had ever made a statement like that. In that moment, my heart itched - not comfortable, but not bad either. I guess that's what healing feels like.

7 Days Away

2010-10-27T08:52:00.000-07:00

{ Elisa Nelissen }

The bell chimes announcing the tram is arriving. It pulls up and the doors slide open on the opposite side, letting the passengers out. Tears prick my eyes because I want to be arriving, not leaving. I only have two more days, but my homesickness is at it's peak and I'm having a hard time keeping it together. The last 5 days were intense; 18 hour days in front of clients, most of those hours on my feet and with a smile plastered on my face. I had to be on at all times- helpful, knowledgeable, "can-do".

I step off the tram onto my terminal and detour into the bathroom. I pick a stall far from the door and pull the breast pump out of my luggage. It's jammed into my carry-on, taking up most of the room, not leaving much space for clothes. I waste time on my phone while sitting on the toilet, pumping. Will is going to be one soon, but I'm desperate to breastfeed exclusively like I did with Finn. I don't get much milk, only 3 ounces and I feel frustrated. So much work and I'm barely keeping up. Such a theme of my life right now. Running nonstop, yet achieving so little beyond the daily tasks. I want to take pictures and make videos and write. But by the time the kids are asleep and the dishes are dry, sleep is the only thing that sounds good.

My pants are slightly wet near the pocket after I leave the bathroom. My fingers rub over the spot again and again. I trace the outline and think about my life. I drag my nail against the denim, and I can see the fibers fray.

Chasing

2010-10-26T14:39:00.000-07:00

{the trial}

I will start doing the things that scare me. I will take the chances that I know I am ready for. I will accept the amazing things that are being offered to me.

I am going to do NaNoWriMo, so excuse me if my next few posts are endlessly random, as I am trying to push myself to write. I have an idea for a book. I've HAD an idea for a book for months now, but have done nothing with it. So, fuck it. I'm going to get it out.

That Feeling

2010-10-06T14:56:00.000-07:00

You know when you know it, in your gut? Whatever “it” may be. You just get that feeling.

We go to a home daycare about 10 minutes from my house. She’s an older lady in her early 70’s who shops at the grocery store my husband manages. She filled in during an unexpected daycare crisis, and it became a long term solution. We started 2 years ago.

About 6 months ago, Finn started crying when I told him it was a daycare day. I would ask him why, and he always gave reasons like, “I want to stay home” or “I want to be with mommy and daddy”. At first, it was only a couple of times a month that he would react like that. Then, about 2 months ago, it was daily.

She’s a nice lady. She’s has that funny old lady spunk. She ADORES the kids. When I was laid off, she didn’t try to recruit more kids, just waited patiently until I found another job. She’s flexible. She’s insanely reasonably priced. These were all the reasons I didn’t listen to my gut.
My gut said, “She never really answers your questions completely.” It said “She makes you feel uncomfortable when try to look around the house.” It tried to tell me, “Finn NEVER acts like he wants to stay.” But my brain consoled me. My brain said “What could she have to hide? So the house is a little messy. The kids are LOVED. And he rarely cries when you leave. I’m sure everything is fine. It’s going to be IMPOSSIBLE to find another flexible daycare situation for what you pay.”

6 weeks ago, I picked the boys up, and asked Finn if he had taken a nap that day.
“YES,” he said, with a weird sort of tone in his voice.

Naps were becoming a struggle at my house, hard to keep him in bed even though I could see so badly that he needed the rest. “Why do you always nap at daycare, but you don’t want to nap at home?”

“She gets MAD at me if I don’t nap,” he says in that weird voice again.

ALARMS. Heart in my throat. This feeling of I knew everything wasn’t right. I try to steady my voice and stay normal. “What happens when she gets mad?”

“She slaps me.”

“Where?”

“On my legs. Like this, “he says and slaps his shin, hard. “And like this,” he says, slapping the other leg.

My eyes well up with tears, and I stare straight again, my eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror. “Anywhere else?”

He slaps various spots on his legs and feet. He slaps himself in the face, and I say with panic “She slaps you in the face?!” and he quickly says, “No, just on my legs.” I try to calm myself down again, hoping that will encourage him to be honest.

“Do you cry when she does it?” I ask.

“No,” he says, very matter-of-fact.

I’m quiet for a moment. “Does she do anything else?”

“She says, ‘Shut up, Finn!’”.

“How does it make you feel when she says that?”

“Sad.”

:::

The kids have been at their new daycare for 6 weeks. Finn gets excited in the morning when I tell him it’s a daycare day. I’ll never ignore that feeling again.

I'm right 'cause you're wrong

2010-08-19T20:27:00.000-07:00

In one blogger's quest to get more than 3 hours sleep at night, she turned to the internet for ideas on sleep solutions and came across this article. In it, the author details the 10 reasons that you should not utilize the cry it out method. This portion of her argument has me particularly disturbed:

I worry that if I leave my children to cry it out, then they will not see the point in reaching out to us if they have problems later in life and could try to deal with serious issues like bullying, drug addictions, teenage pregnancy, gambling problems, or flunking out of school on their own or turn to peers. Unfortunately, those problems are often too big for a teenager to be left to deal with alone or with peers and it can have disastrous results ranging from making poor decisions all the way to committing suicide out of a feeling of hopelessness.

Whaaaaaat? Seriously, what? Wow.

The author has every right as a mother to choose the technique that works best for her children. But this tactic of proving she is right by detailing how others are wrong has me seriously peeved. What is it about making someone feel terrible about their choices that make you feel better about yours? If you would rather get up with your kids every night as many times as they get up, good for you! Make a list of all the reasons that this is fabulous parenting and how studies show your kids will be little geniuses. But don't make a list of how I'm ruining my child because I choose to take a different path. This self righteous and completely arrogant way of thinking serves no purpose. Why can't moms just put their arms over another mom's shoulder and assure her that she's making the best choices for her kids. Parents are forever second guessing their decisions - should I keep breastfeeding, should I put them in daycare, should I vaccinate, should I only feed organic, should I put them in special classes, should I force them to stop using their pacifier - why not make lists about the benefits of the reasons you made your choice, not a list of reasons that woman who don't agree with you totally suck. Can't we just agree that what may be working for my kid most likely won't work for yours? Why do you think there are a hundred different books on baby sleep solutions? There is no one size fits all with kids. If you encounter a solution for any part of your life that's working for you - for your children, for your diet, for organizing your wallet, whatever! - I want to see the list about all the reasons it rocks. But a list about all the reasons I am making the wrong decision if I don't agree with you? No thanks.

Going green

2010-08-17T09:13:00.000-07:00

So I read this post by this amazing girl. In it, she gives the recipe and a weird compelling argument for making a smoothie with spinach in it. Waitwaitwait, don't leave. I know, spinach. I'm not really in to it either. But here goes nothing:

Honest Fare Green Smoothie
Original recipe here.

2 big handfuls of fresh, raw spinach
½ pink lady apple, chopped
1 tbsp fresh parsley
1 coin fresh ginger root, minced
1 c vanilla soy milk
4 strawberries, frozen
½ banana, frozen
½ peach, frozen
¼ c plain low-fat yogurt (optional)

Blend all ingredients. Serve chilled.

But see, there's nothing like a seemingly simple recipe to freak me the fuck out. There are 4 items on that list I've never bought, and the idea of putting parsley in the blender was seriously wigging me out. But hey, I love a challenge:

Challenge 1: Find all the items in my grocery store. This wasn't too complex, except for the parsley and the ginger root. The produce dude pointed me in the general direction of a bunch of green leafy items, and when he noticed that I was still staring at everything 5 minutes later, he came up and handed me the parsley. Also, I couldn't find any pink lady apples, so I got the most pinkish apples I could find, I think they were Galas. I also opted for vanilla yogurt, because I've never had a tasty experience with plain yogurt, and I can only be SO experimental in one day.

Can you really trust a vegetable that looks like a weapon? Or wait, is it a fruit?

Challenge #2/3: What the fuck is a coin of ginger? And how do you mince? Okay, so I used my common sense with a coin, although the fact that some of the circles were dime shaped and some were half dollar shaped kinda threw me. And then I realized I was supposed to have taken the skin off before I started cutting. I trudged on.

I almost stopped here. This kinda gives me the creeps to look at even now. I mean, hairy? REALLY? Plus, the smell of it reminds me of the first trimester of my last pregnancy when everyone tried to shove ginger-flavored shit down my throat to ease my nausea. I trudged forward.

I'm not sure if this is a good mince or not, but my knives suck, so this was the best I was gonna do.

I took all the stems off the parsley before I chopped it. Nope, I don't eat the stalks of broccoli, either.

Then, at the genius suggestion of Laurie, I portioned the servings of ginger and parsley in an ice cube tray.

Added a little water, then stuck it in the freezer. After it froze, I popped out one cube for each serving of smoothie.

Cut up and froze all the bananas and peaches.

I chopped up the apples tiny too, because my blender suckkkkkkks and I wanted to make it as painless as possible.

I really went for it with the handfuls of spinach - go green or go home, right?

I threw everything in, making sure to add the soy milk and yogurt in first so it was closest to the blades for my finicky blender.

I doubled the recipe, and it made a HUGE amount - not pictured: another HUGE cup of this stuff

The verdict: A serious and surprising success. In the words of Laurie, "This recipe isn't 'good for a green smoothie'. It isn't 'ok except for the spinach'. It is delightful, addictive, ohmygod delicious. It tastes like heaven." I couldn't have said it better myself. It's gritty, yet perfectly smooth. Sweet, but perfectly flavored. Earthy, but insanely delicious. My husband LICKED THE GLASS. My 3 year old begged for more.

Make it. Now.

p.s....for those who are conscious of price, all the ingredients cost me about $15, and I was able to make around 7 (BIG) servings before I ran out of some of the ingredients. I still have more than half the parsley/ginger cubes and half a carton of the soy milk. At around $2 a serving, that's pretty awesome.

p.p.s....seriously, make it now.

Reason #476

2010-08-16T20:46:00.001-07:00

We had friends over for dinner tonight and they brought pie for dessert. Can you guess which plate is my husband's? Hint: He doesn't believe in crumbs.

Yet another reason that I love him.

Quick takes from 30

2010-06-24T21:25:00.000-07:00

So, I'm 30. Just like that. The highlights:

- My husband took me to a SUPER swanky hotel while my parents watched the boys. How swanky, you ask? This place has an entire collection of REALLY WEIRD art. You know a place is posh when their art makes no sense. Example 1:

No wonder that lady looks like she is in great distress. There is a tree growing out of her body. That is a serious bummer. And then there is the pesky problem of that piece of sod not staying on her head and so she has to keep it on with a shoelace.

And check this chick out! She's obviously annoyed because someone stole a great big piece of her prize winning watermelon, so she is not sitting here to make sure no one takes any more and then a damn bird built a nest right on her head. That is serious dedication to watermelon watching.

Also, our room had an entire wall that is cork. It's that kind of unnecessary attention to detail that makes it so you feel somehow okay to have to spent a ridiculous amount to sleep somewhere 20 miles from your house. Oh, and the remote control had it's own little cradle. And the bathroom had q-tips and sea salt. So, obviously, this place was fancy.

- I got my nose pierced.

I've been wanting to do it for a long time, but my last boss said "no!" when I casually brought it up and then I tried to get it while I was pregnant on my 29th birthday, but apparently you can't get anything pierced while you are pregnant. The reactions have been mixed. The mom and mom-in-law were both like "oh. look at that." and then quickly changed the subject so as not to say anything rude. Most of my friends have loved it. Two different coworkers asked me if it was some kind of pre-midlife crisis act.
Nose ring blue steel! Yeah, these pictures aren't that great, but that won't be a problem much longer because...

- My new iPhone will have a flash :) Between the hotel and the phone, my husband really hit it out of the park this year in the gift and surprise department. This was a welcome change because...well...haha, remember honey that year before last when we were really broke and I told you not to get me anything, so you didn't get me a card or even say happy birthday until the afternoon because 'don't get me a present' was somehow translated to mean 'don't acknowledge my birthday at all'? Haha, wow, reminiscing is fun.

Bring on the heat

2010-06-12T07:58:00.000-07:00

If I'm lucky, this is where I'll be spending a great deal of my summer:

Then and now in a wordcloud

2010-06-11T07:37:00.000-07:00

13 months ago, I used Wordle to create a word cloud from my tweets. (The bigger a word is, the more often it's been written). Here's what it looked like:

And today, here's what it looks like:

Predictably, "baby" has replaced "pregnancy" as the biggest word. And "think" is now the same size as "nausea" was. That's progress, people.

Quick Takes from Target

2010-06-09T13:07:00.000-07:00

1. There is only one time when I am sad that I don't have girls - when I'm clothes shopping. I've been told it only gets worse as you go from toddler sizes to boy sizes. That's why I was thrilled to find this shirt at Target the other day that my kid could wear to something nice-ish. Great color, simple, but a little more interesting and stylish than the typical polo shirt.

Then, I turned it around.

Ugh.

2. The other day I accidentally wore khakis and a red shirt while I was shopping at Target. Someone asked me where dog food was, and I told them it was in the toy section, on the Barbie aisle. They actually thanked me and headed that direction. The power of the red shirt.

3. This absolutely did not happen, I completely made it up. But I'm telling you, it's not beyond the realm of possibility.

4. I found coupons for paper towels and toilet paper after I had JUST bought them at Target the day before. I brought them in with the receipt and asked the lady if I could use them. She looked at me like I was a fucking loon, but guess who is $1.25 richer?

5. Does anyone actually put their kids in those super gross looking built-in baby seat carrier things that are attached to some of the carts? I think I got ebola just from looking at one the other day.

6. I want to like Target shoes. I really really really really do. But I don't.

198 Days

2010-05-20T09:06:00.000-07:00

Dear Will,

I have written letters to you in my head about a hundred times, but I’m finally sitting down to do it. You’ll learn about me that I have the best of intentions, but not the infinite time I need to get it all done. This hasn’t gotten any better since you’ve come around. I mean this in the best possible way, as I’d way rather stare at you with your crazy blue eyes and the wide smile than do about anything else. Oh, Will – your smile. It’s like your entire face emits pure sunshine, shining into every single crevice of my heart. And best of all, you give them with reckless abandon.

The first few weeks were challenging. So many changes, and not just with you coming into our family. When you were barely 2 weeks old, I lost my job. Be happy that you are too young to understand me right now, because I really won’t shut up about this happening, and believe me when I tell you that people are sick of me talking about it. It rocked me pretty hard and made the beginning days with you unfairly tough. But you knew nothing of this struggle and carried on as any newborn does – waking up 4-5 times during the night, nonstop feedings, lots of rocking, and nearly constant holding. Slowly (slowly!) we both came out smiling. You got easier and started sleeping better. I found a job. Life continued….

As you are nearing your 200th day in our lives, I can only count my lucky stars that I’ve been given the opportunity to be the mom in our little family, the four dubs. You are becoming this insanely awesome little dude. You are eating like a champ, and I have a feeling you are going to tip the scales at your next doctor appointment. You just started sleeping through the night, which is downright blissful for me and your dad. You are a rolling phenomenon. If you see something across the room that you want, you’ll roll over 16 times to get to it. You are starting to squeal and babble and you’d better start talking soon so you can keep up with your smarty-pants brother. And hey, do me a favor and say “mama” first, because Finn said “dada” and I think it’s my turn, don’t you agree?

I have to be honest when I tell you that when I was pregnant and I envisioned you in our lives, I wondered if I’d get a little….bored. It’s just that Finn was doing so much, talking and entertaining us on a level I never knew a 3 year old could. But you have proved me wrong. Everything you do is just totally magical. I look at you and I could bust into tears at any moment at the sheer level of luckiness I feel that we get to be your parents. Will, you are so happy. It’s not just your smile….it’s like your soul is just made of love. It’s clear to me that you are here in the world to do something very important. I’m so excited to watch it happen.

Why would I want to do the dishes?

2010-05-06T15:39:00.000-07:00

I finally realize that if I want my husband to unload the dishwasher, I have to ask. Mike will never get excited about unloading it, knowing how happy it will make me. This is an unrealistic expectation that many women have - it's like that awesome scene in The Break Up when Jennifer Aniston gets so pissed at Vince Vaughn because he should "want to do the dishes". "Why would I want to do the dishes???" he asks, perplexed.

Mike and I are lucky that we don't disagree much. Over the last 11 years, I can tell you that our fights have centered around basically one thing: I want him to see things that need to be done and do them. Turns out it doesn't work that way with dudes. Guys are happy to do what you want them to do, you just have to ask for it. It's the asking that's tough, though.

For me, this leads to a bigger issue. I've been slowly realizing over the last several years that the quickest way to live a fulfilled and happy life is to stop waiting for other people to fill your holes. I can't tell you how many years I wasted waiting for my mom to get better so I could be better. Turns out, I had the power the whole time.

If you want your life to be better, you have to be better. If you want change, you have to change.

Things I'm Crazy About

2010-04-29T10:03:00.000-07:00

My husband, who will let our toddler chase him with the sprinkler

My sweet baby, who obviously got his cheeks from his mom

Long shadows on long spring days

Slowing down

2010-04-28T09:01:00.000-07:00

I was driving with the boys in the car from Target to the grocery store, trying to fit all my errands into the morning before Finn's nap. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of color.

"Look!" I said to Finn. "They are blowing up a hot air balloon!" I stopped at a red light and Finn craned his neck around to try to catch a glimpse. Will was sleeping in the back, and so I thought....hey, why not just pull over for a couple of minutes and watch this.
I merged into the turn lane suddenly. "What are you doing, mama?" Finn asked, confused.

"Let's watch the balloon!" I said, pulling onto the side of the road.

Finn watched, wide eyed. We rolled down the windows and we listened to the roar of the fan blowing air into the balloon. The guys were running around, pulling ropes and doing some kind of well-choreographed dance as the balloon grew bigger and bigger.

My little budding photographer pulled out his camera and began snapping pictures....

...and admiring his work...

And as the balloon rose up in the air, I put the car in drive and said to Finn, "Let's get even closer!" I pulled up right behind the action and scooped Finn out of the car so we could get really close.

The flame was LOUD and he covered his ears, but he did it with a smile on his face.

Sometimes it pays to slow down.

Blog muse: She Likes Purple

2010-04-27T07:45:00.000-07:00

Jennie from She Likes Purple (an amazing writer who I highly recommend that you add to your feed, like NOW) wrote a pretty fantastic blog post last month - and she was actually inspired by Leah from A Girl and a Boy - about women helping women and particularly, mothers helping mothers. She gave a helpful "do" and "don't" list of things to say to new moms.

Among the dos:
I am thinking of you. I am here for you. Go take a nap, I've got this covered. Where's your laundry detergent so I can do this load of whites? You look fantastic. You are the perfect mom for him/her. What's your favorite restaurant so I can pick up dinner? It gets so much better and it'll change from hard to easier like that. You're doing everything right. Your son/daughter is beautiful. It's hard for all of us, in so many ways. I'll be in the kitchen, doing the dishes. Eat this cupcake.

And the don't that literally brought tears to my eyes:
Call me if you need anything! (she won't, you call her)

How many times have we said that to a new mom? We throw it out there "Call me! I'm happy to help! If you ever need a babysitter, just call me!" Do we mean it? Maybe. But do they call? No. Never. They NEVER do. I never did.

After Will was born and I was laid off shortly thereafter, I was lost. I wasn't sleeping much with having a newborn and a toddler at the same time. All those books that say "sleep when the baby sleeps" are useless once you have another kiddo around, as there is rarely a moment when both kids are asleep at the same time. Every free moment was devoted to searching for a job. I felt like no one would really let me mourn the loss of my job because everyone wanted me to "look at the bright side! A long maternity leave!" I felt tossed aside from a company that I devoted many years of my life to and incredibly resentful that I was forced to spend my leave searching for a new job. It was a time in which I felt entirely worthless. Unfortunately, I didn't really reach out. I talked to my friends about my feelings, but I never really told them how sad I felt, how much I longed someone to tell me that I was needed and wanted. And not just wanted to make lunch or get up in the middle of night to feed the baby. But that me, as a woman, was valuable. Combine all of this mental whirlwind with serious exhaustion and zero time to myself, I think I was flirting with a little good old fashioned postpartum depression.

When you have your second baby, people just aren't as excited. People say "Oh, I can't wait to meet him" but they don't come over. They don't bring dinners. They don't call. And even worse, when they did call and offer to help, I said "No, no, I don't want to put you out." And they believed me! The nerve!

Reading Jennie's post, I wondered why we don't insist on helping. Well, I can tell you that this mama won't let my offers go unfulfilled. I will bring dinner. I will fold laundry. I will listen. I will rock her baby while she takes a bath or a nap or just gets the fuck out of the house for an hour and stares at a wall in a coffee shop. Whatever she wants. I will insist.

Blog muse: Mommy Nani Booboo

2010-04-13T07:26:00.000-07:00

I wish I had like 2 hours to read nothing but blogs every day, because there are so many talented writers out there. There are some that I never miss because the content is good every.single.time. These are usually the ones that I think about days, weeks, even months after I've read them. It's usually when they are able to write exactly the words that are in my brain, but generally way better than I could say or write them. So for the next couple of days, I'm going to use some talented ladies as my blog muse.

First up: This genius post at Mommy Nani Booboo, titled "How to Get Into My Pants" Okay, first of all, this lady is funny as shit. Secondly, she encapsulated the difference that men and women have about getting in the mood. For men, it's a 30 second process....for women, foreplay begins 3 days prior. He washes the parts to my breastpump....mmm, I'm getting hot.....he unloads the dishwasher...ohhh now you're talkin.....he tells me to sleep in....uhhh huh, take my clothes off now. I shouldn't talk for all women, but I think it's pretty universal that it's pretty hot when a man can show you that he appreciates you and that he's part of your team. My husband works wacky hours (including weekends) AND goes to school full time, so we'll go several days in a row without really having a conversation. My guess is that in his mind, he's thinking "I want to connect with you, so I'm gonna make a move" but in my mind I'm like "We have barely talked in 4 days, I couldn't be less turned on right now".

And if I can just fully plagiarize for a moment, let me copy and paste this genius line from her blog:

Do something just for me. – Just a little something. Not something for the both of us, or for the family, or for the house… just me. I know you’re very busy, and there probably isn’t a lot of room on your list of “things to do” for me. But if there is no room for me on your list- there is probably no room for your penis in my vagina.

*Not to steal any thunder from another gal talking about married sex this week, Kit at www.bloggingdangerously.com. Her post today includes the joke: "Why is the bride smiling?" ... "Because she knows she'll never have to give another blow job."

Exciting New Product!

2010-04-12T07:56:00.000-07:00

I have a very exciting product announcement for you. You actually already have it, although perhaps you don't realize it. It's conviently located to the left of your steering wheel in your car, and it looks much like the lever for your windshield washer function. This lever is called your TURN SIGNAL. This clever little device (also known as your blinker) activates a light on your car which is meant to alert other drivers on the road if you intend to change lanes or make a turn onto an adjacent road. Seems unncessary, you say? Yes, I realize you think that, which is why I thought we should discuss it. Let's explore this tool, shall we!

The basics: Pushing this contraption UP indicates that you are going to the right. Pushing it down means you are going to the left. Simple, eh?!

Helpful hints:

Don't assume that just because you have your blinker on, that you are entitled to come into the lane. Plan ahead. For instance, if you know you need to turn left in a mile, don't wait until the very last second to get into the left lane - i.e., don't be lame.
Your turn signal can be very handy when you want to merge into one of the lanes next to you. There is no need to get annoyed at other drivers when they won't let you in, when you haven't communicated that you want to do so, even if you believe that your passive aggressive swerving is getting your point across.
If you are going to merge into the turn lane, go ahead and turn on your blinker on prior to getting into that lane. If you turn it on WHILE you are ALREADY in the turn lane, you are just being a lazy, annoying fuck.
If you intend on turning right into a side street or strip mall of sorts, be sure not to turn it on your blinker and then pass three or four possible places that you could have turned right. This defeats the point of the turn signal, as you are LYING about your turning intentions.

Although we are just covering turn signal basics, this is a perfect time to bring up the concept of the 'thank you wave'. The purpose of this is to acknowledge someone for allowing you to merge into their lane, especially when the other person has slowed down in order for you to do so. You simply raise your hand in the air, and move it slightly from side to side. This very small amount of effort makes you a courteous, friendly driver. And alternatively, if you decide to garishly pull in front of someone without thanking them for making them slam on their brakes to accommodate your vehicle 2 feet from their front bumper, you are a rude idiot asshole.

I'm so glad that I could enlighten you about these new products and concepts. Now go forth, and use with reckless abandon. I think that once you start using it, you'll find yourself turning on your signal when you pull into your driveway, and giving a thank you wave to the tree in your front yard. You can never be too safe or nice!

Next edition: Bumper Stickers: Which ones are totally inappropriate for your vehicle and therefore alert everyone that you are a douche canoe?

Future editions: Avoid parking like an asshole AND The Left Lane: Not for you, Grandpa.

*This post is brought to you by "Basic Manners" magazine. If the subject matter contained within this post is confusing or new information to you in any way, you should subscribe immediately. You can subscribe by visiting our website: www.stopbeingamoron.com or calling us toll free at 1-800-ASS-CAKE now!

Not like the other one...

2010-04-11T07:47:00.000-07:00

One of these things is not like the other....

Being open

2010-04-10T13:44:00.000-07:00

The day after I wrote the post about becoming a blog writing machine, I posted a video that I made for Finn's third birthday. It had his full name in the beginning of the video, but I decided to post it anyway. The next day, I got a comment on my family blog where I post nonstop pictures and videos and commentary about the boys. Someone left an anonymous comment on a very old post of Finn that shows him naked from behind. The comment was nasty. It called us disgusting parents for "tarting" out our son to the internet, and then alluded to what they would like to do with my boy. I did some investigating with my stat tracker and found that someone from Sweden left the comment, after doing a Google search for "naked boy". Because that was the name of the actual picture that I had saved on my computer, it somehow led them to that post.

The first thing I did after reading that comment was to take down the video on this blog. Even though it was "just" a comment, I felt somehow violated and scared that I was opening up my kid to risk. I'm generally pretty trusting of the internet and world in general. I pay my bills online, I don't shred every piece of paper I throw away, I do social media. So perhaps I'm just naive. Or maybe I'm just a wimp, and if I'm going to put my life out there online, I have to be prepared for everything.

Well, I'll tell you that although I did poke my head in a hole for a couple of days, I won't retreat indefinitely.

But where is the line? How much can I be open without opening myself to risk? Is this an impossible task?

Good enough

2010-03-30T15:13:00.000-07:00

I've never wanted to be a writer. In middle school, I was given high marks and my teachers loved me, but I think it was because I actually cared about school, unlike my boy crazy peers. Don't get me wrong - I was boy crazy too, but the reality that I would lose every privilege for low grades was a huge motivator (Damn you, parents who give a shit!)

In college, I took a creative writing class with 20 other students. You had to print a copy of your writing for every person in the class and everyone had to review your work. Then, in class, everyone got a turn to be critiqued. This may sound like your worst nightmare, but I actually loved it. Well, I loved the idea of it - but every single time it came around to my turn to be reviewed, the feedback was ALWAYS the same: "The piece was good." "Nice story." "No suggestions."
:: Crickets chirping ::
I found this maddening - no one hated it, but no one LOVED it either. Although it would have been hard to hear a bunch of criticism, at least I would have stirred people up. But mediocre? Gah.

I think this is why my blog goes weeks without a post. I am inspired to write constantly. But when I sit down and write it, I just don't think it's good enough, funny enough, engaging enough. Why do I care about a blog that's probably read by about 12 people? Who knows.

So, I'm stepping out of my comfort zone. I'm going to try to post with reckless abandon over the next month. I'm not going to do that weird NoBloJoDolo thing, but I want to just start saying what's on my mind without wondering if it's good enough. Here I go....

Rushing

2010-02-23T15:38:00.000-08:00

If I shower, pack my lunch and all my bags the night before, I only have to get up one hour before I have to leave. Between the time my fingers find the off button on my alarm to when they turn the ignition of my car, it’s a battle: me vs. willful toddler vs. unpredictable baby vs. time. Nurse, pump, pack, dress, console, urge, force. Rush, rush, rush. Everyone in the car, driving too fast, kids to daycare, then me to work. Work work work, lunch, work work work. I will the clock to move faster. “I want to see my kids! I want to pick them up!” So I race out of the office and scoop up the boys. Race them home. Rush, rush, rush. Dinner as soon as we walk in the door, and then straight into bath and then bedtime for the kids. Gotta get them to bed so I can get some things done. Gotta get ready for the next day! Rush, rush, rush.

This is my formula. Gotta get through it so I can get to the Next! Better! Thing! If we can just get to ______, everything will be better. Once Mike graduates and gets a new job, we’ll have more time and I’ll have more help and everything will be better. Once Will starts sleeping through the night, I will be able to think clearly and stay up later and everything will be better. Once I learn my new job, I won’t be so stressed out and everything will be better.

When am I going to learn to enjoy what’s here? Life can’t always be a rushing towards something better. At some point, I have to stop and just be where I am. Who cut my brake lines?

Secrets

2010-02-18T07:57:00.000-08:00

I recently “came out”. I started using my real name on my blog. I even started going back and replacing all my fake names in my earlier posts, just to avoid confusion. Of course, it ended up being a much bigger job then I thought, so it’s only sporadically done, thus causing more confusion than it would have originally. Ah well, welcome to my life of half-assed good intentions.

I decided to do this for a couple of reasons. First, as I said in this post, I just didn’t want to come up for a made up name for my new little boy. I’m not sure why it didn’t bother me to create a pseudonym for Finn. Maybe because I was just getting to know Will? Who knows. The second reason was because I wrote a guest post on Stefanie Wilder Taylor’s site, Baby on Bored about what it was like growing up as a child of a alcoholic. My family has been fiercely concerned about keeping the secrets of our past regarding the alcohol and drug abuse. Although my mom is sober today, it is clear that we are not allowed to talk about it. I was concerned that maybe if I posted on Stef’s site with my real name that somehow, someway she would find it. Then, she would find my blog. And then, my family would be furious at me for sharing our dark secrets.

Then, I saw this, and it all just clicked into place for me. This is my life and the repercussions of keeping secrets can be devastating. She can keep her secrets. But I’m telling mine.

Oh hey, that grass over there is WAY greener

2010-02-17T14:35:00.000-08:00

My first week and a half of work can be accurately summed up into one word: Exhausting. I’m not one for summing up, so it was more like “oh my god, what was I thinking, hanging out in my pjs and watching cartoons was actually awesome, I feel like I’m going to fall asleep at any moment, please don’t fire me on my second day.”

The number one most painful thing is waking up to an alarm. I have the insane luck that Finn likes a solid 12 hours of sleep, so while I was unemployed, he was waking up at 8am. In order to get myself dressed, nurse Will, pump, get the boys dressed, eat breakfast, pack my lunch and pack the daycare bag for both kids, I have to wake up at 6. With the exception of one blissful night, Will has been waking up 4 times per night. FOUR TIMES. So, my brain is all “yeaaaaaah, I’m gonna need to stare at the wall for at least 2 hours today” and I’m like “No, actually, you are going to need to meet new people, remember their names, learn new skills, write coherent emails all while NOT falling asleep on your desk.” Needless to say, my brain and I are not getting along.

And the whining is in full force. This is hard. I’m tired. I miss my boys. I miss my husband.

I can honestly say that this is one of the hardest times of my life. Having 2 kids (and did I mention that one of them wakes up FOUR TIMES a night?), a husband who is working full time at a job where he works evenings and weekend WHILE going to school full time and then starting a new job where I have to like…think and stuff. From 6am until 8pm I am go go going nonstop…and then at 8pm I look around the dirty house and the piles of laundry and the bills to pay and the emails to return….and I choose sleep instead. And I ask myself….why was I so anxious to find a job?

Oh yeah, I like my house, eating food and having heat. Right. That. Okay, so there’s no going back.

Magic tricks

2010-02-06T08:47:00.000-08:00

My husband thinks that our house is magical. Well, I'm guessing this is what he thinks. I can't think of any other reason he would leave things around the house that he wants to disappear.

Example A: Finn still wears a diaper to bed and when he wakes up, he comes up to our room with his undies and my husband switches them out. Then, he puts it on the chest. Every morning.

Example B: This one is slightly more annoying. When he changes Will's diaper, he puts it on these shelves. You see the space on the right? On the floor is where the diaper genie is. Yeah.

Example C: Also, in Will's room, he throws his PJs on the foot rest. You see the closet door behind it? That's where the hamper is.

Example D: My husband thinks that Good Will does a pick up inside our closet, because every time he wants to donate his clothes, he folds them and put them on the floor. How convenient.

Example E: When I complained that he got hair all over the counter when he trimmed his facial hair, he started to trim over the sink. Thank goodness we got that worked out.

Example F: I am an obsessive recycler. So I guess I should be thankful he puts it on the counter rather than in the trashcan. He's always thinking about me.

Example G: He's always leaving these all over the house for me. What an ass.

Awesome, sorta

2010-02-05T08:16:00.000-08:00

Holy crap, I got the job!

Have you ever seen that movie "Defending Your Life"? After people die, they go on trial to see how brave they were on earth and decide if they need to go back or go...to the next place (whatever that is). Their attorneys show clips from their life. In one clip, they show the main character role-playing with his wife about how he's going to negotiate salary for the job he's going to be offered the next day. He practices being a total hard ass, not taking a dime less than the money he wants. Then, the next clip shows him taking the first offer given to him. This was me. I told my husband that I was going to insist on a specific number - that I was worth it and I would fight for it...then they called me, offered me the job for less and I said yes in .02 seconds. Sigh. At least I have a job now.

I decided to do a trial run with daycare today, drop the kids off and spend the day with my husband. I was a wreck. I cried on the way, while we dropped them off, and several times over the next few hours. And here I thought I was ready to be away from them. Having kids is such a mind fuck. I don't think there could be a situation that MORE personifies "grass is always greener".

Anyways. I start on Monday! Yay! (mostly).

Point, Counterpoint

2010-01-29T20:53:00.000-08:00

13 days after I had Will, I got a frantic text message from a coworker: "Dial into the conference bridge ASAP!" Turns out my boss - and co-owner of the company - was leaving. His reasons were cryptic and the office was alive was gossip. I just kinda shrugged my shoulders and went back to my delicious little baby. 3 days later, I get a call from my other boss, asking me to lunch. Because I'm ~~cocky~~ naive, I assumed that he wanted to talk to me about company strategy, since I was the most senior employee in our office. Wrong. Not only did he not feed me lunch, he actually said "I'm sure you saw this coming..." as he slid the severance agreement paperwork across the table. Um, no. Not really. Just gave birth 16 days ago, didn't really think I'd be losing my job. I had brought Will to the meeting because...ya know, 16 days old....and as my former boss left the room, I just looked at Will with tears streaming down my cheeks (see: Postpartum) and my mind went absolutely blank. I mean, WHAT to tha FUCK.

Fastforward nearly 3 months. After applying for about 80 jobs so far, I've had 5 job interviews (thank god for you, belly shaper) and by far my most promising one happened today. I have a second interview on Tuesday, and I just feel like this might be THE ONE.

Had I not been laid off, I would have been back to work for 5 weeks now. Instead, I've been spending day after glorious day in my pajamas surrounded by toys, burp cloths, and waaaaay too much Dora (River....Farmhouse....Castle! River....Farmhouse....Castle! River....Farmhouse....Castle! River....Farmhouse....Castle! YES, WE GET IT! YOU ARE GOING TO THE RIVER, FOLLOWED BY THE FARMHOUSE AND THEN THE FUCKING CASTLE! SHUT YOUR MOUTH, YOU WEIRD TALKING MAP). It's like groundhog day over here.

Cue internal struggle.

Stay At Home Mom Me: I am ready to go back to work
Working Me: Are you kidding? The last few months of pregnancy you were all "woe is me, I wish I could stay at home 3 months with the kids"
SAHMM: Well, yeah, but that was when I knew I had a job to come back to. Now, it's like this never ending series of days where I forget what it's like to pee in a room by myself.
WM: I can't believe you are saying this! You are bitching about wearing your PJs all day and hanging out with your kids? Poor you.
SAHMM: You have no idea! You get to drive in the car by yourself and have interesting conversations with other adults and eat your entire lunch while it's hot and go to the gym.
WM: Drive in the car? Is this the same 40 minute commute that you bitched about on a daily basis?
SAHMM: Well....yeah....but at least you get to listen to music and can hear yourself think.
WM: And sit in traffic!
SAHMM: Okay, okay, you're missing the point. All I'm saying is....I miss the other parts of me. The parts where people think I'm smart. The part where I could go to the gym on my lunchbreak and blast my iPod. The part where I was allowed to be a little selfish. And most of all, the part where I could miss my kids.
WM: Let me get this straight - You want to get up at 6am to get yourself and the kids out the door to daycare, pump in the bathroom at work, have crazy deadlines and annoying coworkers.
SAHMM: I just want to leave so I can want to come home.
WM: Dude, you are weird.

I want this job so bad. I'm ready to go back to hating Mondays, I'm ready to bitch about my commute, I'm ready to meet new friends and have new challenges and use my brain for more than just trying to come up with a creative craft to kill an hour before naptime. This has been an interesting experiment on if I want to be a SAHM. And do I? No. It has nothing to do with my level of love I have for my kids - these boys make my heart go places it's never been. And for them, it's time for me to go back to work - so I can miss them enough that I want to smother them with kisses and attention and love for the 3 hours I'll have them before bedtime every day and enjoy every single moment. Because I'm tired of having the conversation where I go "Finn, blah (blah = come here, eat your lunch, pick up your toys, stop making so much noise while your brother sleeps, put on your pants, etc etc ETC). Hey, blah! I saaaaiiiiid blah. Finn, if you don't blah RIGHT NOW, you are going to time out." Because really, all he hears now really is "blah".

So, wish me luck Tuesday at 10.

p.s....Stay at home moms: Mad props. Seriously.

I'm back

2009-12-05T10:55:00.001-08:00

I find it slightly awkward that my last post in over 2 months was about grooming, but hey, whatcha gonna do? So much has happened (hello, new human!) and no one wants to read a novel of a blog post, so here's my summed up version:

- I was a bridesmaid in a wedding when I was 37 weeks pregnant. Oh yeah, I was hot, obviously.

- Once I hit 8 1/2 months pregnant, I actually started feeling pretty decent physically, but absolutely so anxious mentally that I could barely stand it. I was having almost nonstop Braxton Hicks during the day, and about 20 times I day, I thought "Is this it? Is this it???" My husband was going nuts and every time I called him at work he thought it was TIME. Every time I called a friend or family member, they answered the phone by asking me if they should meet me at the hospital. This was doing nothing to help my anxiety.

- 40 weeks came...and went.

- It was decided upon that I would be induced at 41 weeks. In the meantime I was eating spicy foods, having more sex than a woman with a belly my size should be having and spending far too much time in Dr. Google's office examining every perceived "symptom". The morning before my induction, I had an hour and a half of acupuncture. No dice.

- The evening before I was to be induced, I was snuggling with my husband and son on the couch, and I put my hand on my belly. I felt my little baby's leg, which was pretty common. I grabbed his leg and expected for him to pull it away from me like normal. He didn't do that. I was able to move his leg up and down my belly. Cue: freaking the fuck out. All of a sudden I realized I hadn't felt him move since the acupuncture. I started to shake my belly, trying to make him move. He didn't. I laid down on my left side and pushed in on my belly, always a sure fire way to get him moving. He didn't. Cue: absolute panic attack, complete with hysterical crying. I grabbed my phone and called my doctor who had given me her personal cell phone for when I went into labor. She told me to go to the hospital right away. We called a neighbor girl to watch our son and were out of the house in less than 5 minutes. The hospital is half an hour away from our house and I felt him move twice on the way, very slightly. Not his usual beating, but enough to make me chill out a little bit.

- The baby was fine - and I never got an explanation for his lack of movement, but all I needed to know was that his heartrate was good. And of course, as soon as the strapped me into all the monitors, he started his usual acrobatic routine. *HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF*

- They kept me overnight since I was scheduled to be induced the next morning anyway. Super short version of labor: Pitocin started at 8:30, mild contractions until about noon, doctor broke my water at 12:30, contractions increasing in insanity until about 2:30, epidural at 2:50, baby born at 3:10. Welcome to the world little one.

- So I post a pic on Twitter shortly after he was born. And so many wonderful people gave me congratulations...and wanted to know his name. Now, this threw me for a loop, although I should have thought about it sooner. I have all these fake names for myself and my husband and my kiddo on the blog. But for some reason, I just couldn't give my newborn son a fake name. So, I went into Twitter silence. And since then all these wonderful and funny and annoying and maddening things have happened and I have really really wanted to share them. But I felt like a tool just leaving all these people asking me the name and never telling. So, his name? It's Will. And it's perfect. And so is he.

Note: I've decided to nix the fake names....and I went back and changed them throughout the blog to my REAL name. Scary.

Down there

2009-09-25T09:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, for some unknown reason, I decided to look up birthing videos and photos. Google was happy to oblige, giving me more content than I could ever view. One thing that became clear to me very quickly (besides the fact that birth is....let's face it...pretty gross. I mean, yadda yadda, special and beautiful, etc - but come on, very very gross too, at least when it's a strangers birth captured by a zoom lens close up on her lady parts) is that NONE of these women were...groomed...in any way whatsoever. Not that this was totally shocking, but I thought at least one or two would be rockin' the landing strip, or at LEAST a tidy little triangle. Nope. Full bush, top to bottom, every single one.

So after going through all these photographic treasures, I went straight to twitter:

And I got more responses than I've ever gotten from a tweet before. Most of them were along the lines of "you can't take care of what you can't see", and also different variations on can't bend, can't reach, etc. One person (a dude, no less) said: "It's obvious this is your first pregnancy. :P" Ouch.

Argument 1: I have been taking care of business in that region for over 10 years. I'm not pruning into heart-shapes here. I can keep things pretty tidy without seeing what I'm doing.

Argument 2: If I was going to actually videotape my birth, I think I'd want to clean up the stage.

Argument 3: This is my second pregnancy, thank you very much. And furthermore, when my water broke during my first pregnancy, I took a shower and spent a few minutes shaving legs, armpits, ETC (if ya know what I mean).

Argument 4: I'm out of arguments, but 3 points is pretty weak.

Da Crib

2009-09-16T14:48:00.000-07:00

We have completely finished up getting ready for the baby. I'm talking room ready, all furniture in place, clothes in the drawers, bottles washed and put away, half-packed hospital bag in the closet just awaiting the last minute items like toiletries.

This is a little ridiculous because:
a. I still have 6 weeks.
b. Once the baby is home, he is sleeping in our room for the first 6ish weeks.
c. We won't introduce the bottle until the baby is 3-4 weeks old.
d. I am convinced I have just given myself a due date of 2 weeks late by being so prepared.

I don't care because:
a. I will not have the energy to wash and put away baby clothes and blankets when I am 39 weeks pregnant.
b. Maybe I'll want to put him in his room during naps? And plus, this has given Finn a tangible thing to look at in anticipation of his brother's arrival.
c. I will be so happy that all those bottles are washed and put away when it's actually time to use them
d. Okay, I actually do care about this. Baby: Please do not be late. Please.

Pics of the new baby digs. We are stoked at how everything turned out:

Mural painted by my coworkers sister. We were a little afraid it was going to be too "Nightmare Before Christmas" but we are hoping the other colorful aspects in the room counterbalance it. It was inspired by this tree I found, but we wanted to make it a bit more...masculine or something. I made the mobile with felt pieces and sticks from a tree in our yard when the one I wanted from Etsy.com was sold out. Etsy mobile with shipping: $57. My mobile: $4

Magnetic wall art is SO AWESOME. Love this idea, not sure where else you would put something like this other than a baby/child's bedroom.

Scored this glider rocker off Craigslist for the smokin price of $175. The one I wanted at Babies R Us was $600, so I thought this was a steal. I wish I could explain to you the comfort of this chair. I make everyone who enters my house sit on it.

My sis-in-law is supposed to sew a liner for the little diaper basket there...but considering she's the biggest procrastinator of all time, it will probably be a couple of more months before I see anything.

OMG, that crooked picture is making me crazy. I must go home right now and fix it.

That little bird on the table is sooooo cute when it's lit up. A perfect little nightlight and goes with our nature theme perfectly.

32 Weeks

2009-09-04T08:11:00.000-07:00

Holy moly, 32 weeks.

I had Finn three weeks early, which means I COULD be having a baby in 5 weeks. FIVE WEEKS.

The room is TOTALLY ready, which prompted my sis in law to say that this probably means that I'll be 2 weeks overdue. I told her I hated her for saying that.

Of course, I'm also in a wedding on October 3, and the bride asks me every 3 days how I'm feeling, if I think that I'll make it past the wedding (oh girl, how I wish I had insight in to that). Maybe the 2 things will balance each other out and I'll have him mid-October.

Fingers crossed.

56 Days

2009-09-02T10:27:00.001-07:00

No, the title of my post isn't a reference to about the number of days it's been since I last blogged - although it's close enough. That's the number of days I have left of this pregnancy...at most (hopefully!)

Jake got me a gift certificate for a massage since all I do is complain about my back lately. I went in yesterday and as the gal was getting started, she asked if I had ever heard of integrative massage. I tell her no, and she says "It's like...catering to not just the body, but to like....the mind and soul too....like....through breathing and stuff"....Ohh, well that sounds...like, great and stuff. I told her I was into it, so off she went. But it seemed like just a normal massage to me. But thanks for the weird intro, massage lady.

So besides my lower back screaming at me from about 3pm on, I've also got my first hemorrhoid, which is...wow, how do I describe this little slice of happiness? I'm pretty sure I can't do better than Sundry did on her post, so I'll just direct you over there for a moment.

Another awesome "symptom"? Rage. I'm not kidding you. I was bordering on homicidal for a good two hours at work yesterday. This morning I literally had to reason with myself to not hit another coworker in her face. Her fat-annoying face. Her fat-annoying-won't-follow-policy-or-procedure-because-she-is-too-fucking-self-important-and-has-1000-excuses face. *Deep breath*

To top all of these fabulous things off, I've been dealing with two THINGS. First thing: Serious sleep regression. I'm talking a sleep regression of epic proportions. Let me be specific here:

Scene, 4 weeks ago: It's 7:30 pm, the sun is setting, my little boy smells sweetly of lavender, fresh from his bath. I bury my nose in his hair as we hug and kiss goodnight. I lay him in his bed, he rolls over, muttering "I love you mommy." I walk out of the room and enjoy 2 hours to myself before going to bed at the reasonable hour of 9:30.

Scene, 3 weeks and 6 days ago - 4 days ago: It's 8:30 pm and I have FINALLY managed to force him through a tenuous bedtime routine in which he has come up with 65 excuses to delay along the way. I lay him down in bed as he is asking for water, for hugs, for snuggles, to sit on the potty, to blow his nose, for that one car he played with that one time 7 months ago that is in one of his 6 toy bins downstairs and can he have it pleeaaaaassseeeeeeeee or he'll JUST DIE. I say no no no no no no, goodnight.....and then spend the next 2 hours putting him back in bed repeatedly. Sometimes I get all the way out of the room and manage to sit on the stairs before he hops out of bed again, sometimes I've barely turned around before he slides out of bed. Sometimes he is screaming, sometimes he is whining, sometimes he is eerily silent. He finally gives up a few minutes before 11 and I fall, exhausted, into bed. Only to wake up at 11:30 because he's SCREAMING that there is a monster at his window. A monster? Where the hell did you learn about monsters?

Anyway, we have finally conquered this excuse-making/boundary-pushing beast and we are all sleeping through the night and getting to bed at reasonable hours. But holy hell, was that painful.

The second thing I've been dealing with is similar to my very cranky toddler - my bi-polar moody boss, who has all of a sudden decided to turn my maternity leave request into some kind of weird-o power play. I was hoping to take off 10 weeks, but since we are a very small company and not governed until the laws of FMLA, he is making me beg and plead for it...and I may only get 6 weeks off in the end. This has come as a very unexpected and disappointing surprise, as they were very kind and flexible when I had my first kiddo. Have a mentioned I've been there for nearly 5 years? And work my little preggo arse off? Doesn't seem to matter.

I ease all of this drama by laying a hand on my bulging belly, to my little growing baby boy (who remains nameless because of my crazy picky husband who dislikes every perfectly acceptable name I've thrown at him, but then suggests things like "Thor") and realize that this is all going to be worth it in the end.

I'm huge - uh, I mean, I'm 28 weeks

2009-08-10T09:12:00.000-07:00

Last week I had my glucose test - a test which gave me no problems this time or the last. I don't know why this test is so feared. Pound a sugary drink, wait an hour, get your blood drawn. I didn't have to fast, just couldn't eat anything sugary 2 hours before the test.

I got the results the next day - everything looks normal (thank god, I don't have to stop eating M&Ms by the handful). However, they reported that I'm quite anemic, a revelation that actually really excited me because now I have a REASON (besides good 'ol pregnancy) for being so nutty tired. She told me to pick up some iron pills and start eating more red meat and greens (do green colored M&Ms count?)

My belly seems huuuuuuuuuge to me. He is so so so low, I feel like I'm going to break in half when I sit sometimes. I'm terrified when he drops, he's going to fall into my legs.

Pregzilla

2009-08-04T08:50:00.001-07:00

{Courtesy of dhammza}

For the most part, I've done an excellent job in my life at not being "that girl" who becomes a raging bitch once a month and blames it on PMS. I'm not sure if I'm just lucky that I'm not someone who is really sensitive to changing hormone levels or what. The same has been true of my pregnancies. However, my streak has ended. Last night was a serious shit storm of emotion and hormones, aimed directly at my poor, unsuspecting husband.

As I've been complaining about, I've been tired, OH SO tired the last 2 weeks. I get lots of sleep and I'm still trying to be active but it's not helping. Yesterday was no exception - I was crazy tired all day and left at 5pm on the dot to go get Finn from daycare and get home. My husband had the day off and he was supposed to be writing a paper which was due that night. Also, he had to get up at 3:30 the next morning for work. So I walk in the door and immediately I'm irritated. Nothing has been done around the house. There's this printer our friend gave us (made us take) that's been sitting on the island in our kitchen since LAST THURSDAY that we don't really have a place for. I was hoping it would magically disappear since he had the entire day off and to himself at home (side note: the last time I had an entire day off and to myself? Um, the weekend before I had Finn, 2.5 years ago). But no such luck, it was sitting there. Okay, whatever. So Mike gets up and goes to the family room with Finn and plays blocks while I throw myself on the couch and start a barrage of complaints. The highlights: so much pressure! my pelvis! so tired! so emotional! Summation: poor me! Mike kisses me and hugs me and tells me I'm amazing and listens while I repeat myself and continues to give me sympathy. After a good 10 minutes of this, I haul myself off the couch and start making dinner. He keeps Finn entertained and I bring down food and we all eat on the couch together. I turn on a DVR'ed episode of a show that Mike thoroughly dislikes and he doesn't say a word. Although Mike said the pasta was yummy about 64 times, he didn't SPECIFICALLY say "thank you for making dinner" so I was PISSED. So after dinner, he says he needs to finish his paper and I'm PISSED because that means I have to do the bathtime/bedtime thing by myself and I'm PISSED that he didn't use his time of his day off better and I'm PISSED because...well, at this point, try to find anything I'm not annoyed at, that would be easier. So then, Finn goes into pushing/testing boundary mode and doesn't want to do anything I want him to do and screams when I make him. My tolerance level is at a ZERO. We get through bathtime and I did something heinous like make him put on his pajamas, and he starts screaming. Mike comes into his room and Finn starts whimpering and reaches out for him like some abused child and I stomp out of the room like a toddler. Mike sees that intervention is necessary, so he helps me read him stories and get him into bed. Afterwards, I slam my way around the kitchen and did the dishes from dinner (pissed, because what the hell, i made dinner, he should do the DAMN dishes) and put all the various shit away that was sitting around the kitchen and then stomped upstairs and was going to go to bed without saying goodnight because I WAS PISSED (is there a theme emerging here?) As I was getting into bed, I noticed Finn's milk cup and it was nearly full, so i went back downstairs to put it in the fridge and Mike asks "Baby, are you going to bed?" and I wouldn't make eye contact with him and mumbled a barely-audible "yup". I threw myself in bed and sobbed and cried and I didn't want him to come up and I'm pissed he's not coming up all at the same time. I cry for like 10 minutes and finally calm down and start going to sleep and he comes up and crawls into bed and asks me what's wrong and I'm sniffling and crying and snotty and gross and whining. I'm state my very compelling argument that "No one is taking care of meeeeeeeeeeeee, no one is spoiling meeeeeeeee". He says "Just tell me what you need, I'll do anything, I love you, you're amazing, you're beautiful," basically saying all the right things which is making me even more upset and at this point my entire head is so stuffed up that I'm making that weird nasal noise and I can't blow my nose and OMG, it was a site to see.

So now that pregzilla has emerged, can I put her back? Can I muddle through my remaining 12 weeks with some sense of decency and control? For my husband's sake, I sure hope so. And in the meantime, he may want to consider hiring a housekeeper and a nanny.

Hair intervention

2009-07-29T19:44:00.000-07:00

When I was in high school, I was gross. I only showered like twice a week, but somehow I still managed to never get ousted for my bad hygiene. I'm lucky because I don't really sweat much and I'm just generally not a stinky person. And my hair....it just always looked REALLY cute. I have no idea how this is possible. It was long and lush and beautiful - even without proper grooming. I would wake up in the morning and literally not touch it and it looked perfect.

Cut to today. Something has happened in the last 12ish years that has not been good for my hair. Whether it be more regular bathing (but, let's be honest, I still only get it in like 4 times a week) or having a kid or that my eating habits went to shit...I really don't know. But basically, my hair kinda sucks. I have one particular problem which keeps it from looking good. I don't know what to call it, but basically it just goes all Medusa on me. It starts out something like this:

And then by like 11am, it looks more like this:

I have no idea how this happens. My hair is not curly, I do not live in a humid climate and I sit at a desk all day. But something happens between the time that I put it all in a ponytail and 3 hours later that makes me look like I ran a marathon. In Arizona. In July. At noon. And before I know it, I look like this:

And this:

There have got to be something that would tame this yucktastic mess on my head. But being the (formally) spoiled hair haver that I am, I never learned the fine art of hair products. So please, for the sake of my coworkers, enlighten me. What do I need to put on this rats nest??

By the way, ignore that pesky double chin that seems to have arrived with my 3rd trimester today. That thing seriously came out of nowhere.

Tired

2009-07-22T10:36:00.001-07:00

{Photo Courtesy of Salvini}

This morning, someone asked how far along I am. I told them "26 weeks today"..."WOW!" they exclaimed..."It's going by SO FAST!" Oh, is it? Is it going by fast for you? How nice.

I was going to have a good day today, but then I woke up with 4 zits in a sort of artsy semicircle formation around my chin. No sugar coating it - I'm struggling right now. And I'm not happy about it. See, I strive to be this super happy positive gal and I've always thought of myself as the sort of person who could float through pregnancy with a big smile on my face and talk about how good I felt and how much energy I had and how strong I feel. Well, fuck, that is just not my reality. I spent the first 16 weeks wanting to puke about 23 1/2 hours of the day. And then I had a really pretty nice 8 weeks. And then about a week ago, I started feeling big and gross and tired. I don't WANT to be any of these things. I want to be vibrant! And glowing! And.....oh forget it, I hardly have the energy to come up with another descriptive word. I'm one of those annoying "your reality is what you make it" people (yes, I'm that girl who asks you if you saw that Oprah episode where she talks about The Secret). Well, I must have fucked up my vision board or something, because this pregnancy has taken a turn for the crabby, and I don't seem to be able to change the trajectory. I am getting between 9-10 hours of sleep every night, but still wake up and spend my day totally exhausted. I feel bleary eyed and cloudy headed and just a general sense of drag-ass'edness. If I was 36 weeks along, I wouldn't be so upset about this. But 26 weeks!? Come on! This is supposed to be my blissful 2nd trimester time! I am the victim of energy theft! Give it back! *sigh*

24 Weeks

2009-07-16T08:46:00.000-07:00

Alright, you caught me, I'm actually 25 weeks along now...wait, what was that? You aren't diligently counting my pregnancy progress? Oh. How sad for you. WELL, anyway, here are my (late) 24 week belly pics:

For comparison, you can see my other photos at 16 weeks and 20 weeks.

I'm starting to get a little worried about the state of my maternity clothes wardrobe. Although I'm pretty much right on track for weight gain so far (18 lbs as of my appt yesterday) my pants are getting tight around my hips. Last I checked, babies don't grow in your hips, so it must have something to do with this little 2-3 time per week indulgence:

Moving right along

2009-07-06T13:16:00.000-07:00

So you remember my big whiny bitchfest about not wanting to switch my little one from his crib to a bed? It turns out I'm just a huge loser because we did it last night, and guess what? It went off without a hitch. We layed him in bed, we walked away, he slept. That's it. Yup, that's what I got all worked up over. Nothing. Hey, that's cool with me. I'd rather deal with the 'I told you so' look that my husband will give me tonight rather than the bleary eyed 'what the hell did we do and how fast can we put the crib back together????' discussion.

See mom? Nothing to be afraid of....get me outta this thing

I've been toying with the idea of doing the "letter to my kid" thing on here...everytime I start to write it, it just becomes one of those sappy jesus re-born tributes, and no one wants to read that, except maybe me and my husband (maybe). I still think it would be cool, so that should come in the next little while. Although, knowing the frequency of my blogging, I wouldn't do any breath-holding in the meantime.

I'm reaching that point in my pregnancy where things are pretty well blissful. I'm rarely sick, I'm cutely bumpish (24 week belly pics to come this week), I'm sleeping decently, our little son is kicking me often and people are being SO NICE to me. It's a huge slice of wonderful, actually. I'll come back and read this post in another 3 months to remember that I did actually enjoy a portion of being pregnant. One part that I am having a slightly hard time adjusting to is not pigging out at every meal. My stomach space has changed quite a bit in the last week or so - I need to switch to that small meals/more often schedule rather than the dinosaur-sized portions 3 times per day. I'm pretty much chairman of the board of the clean plate club, so it's hard for me to not eat every last bite, especially at restaurants. I'm all for leftovers, but like last night I got nachos, and we all know those aren't going to exactly heat up for the next day's meal, so I just had to stare longingly at those last chips lying there in the bottom of the plate, begging to be consumed. Oh, and that reminds me: Heartburn. Yeah, so it turns out that heartburn kinda sucks! It falls into that category of things that doesn't seem so bad until you get it yourself. People would talk about it, and I'm like "eh, suck it up"....why didn't they tell me it was like you swallowed an iron poker and it's stuck in your chest? Honestly, metaphors are kinda necessary for that level of discomfort. Besides that, things really are going well. Although it's funny how the first time I was all about the pregnancy while fretting about the actual baby part...and this time, I'm just like "can we get this whole incubation thing over with so I can get my hands on my baby boy???"

Unnecessary

2009-06-25T08:08:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I see a product and wonder how in the bloody hell it made it onto the market. Someone I follow on twitter discovered this product and (correctly) commented about how dirty it looks.

It's called KUSH.

First, the photographic evidence:What the hell is the point of this thing? I had no idea. As the CEO Cathinka Chandler (seriously) explains it: "Kush offer more natural rest for the breasts for a more comfortable sleep, it helps to prevent the appearance of cleavage lines and wrinkles."

Now, internets. I worry about many, many things. Will we save enough money to retire? Is my job stable? Am I a good mom? And I also worry about trivial things - Do people think our kitchen table looks cheap? Are we going to like the new paint in the babies room? But one thing I have never ever ever worried about is cleavage lines. Like, EVER. Don't get me wrong, I see them on ladies and don't think they are super cute. But I've never sat in Target and lamented about why! oh why, is there not a product that will not only help me with my breast support at night, but also prevent wrinkles in my cleavage??? Because, here's the thing - I could have SWORN there was already a product on the market that supported my boobs.

I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during the meeting with the bank to get that business loan.

To crib or not to crib

2009-06-15T19:15:00.000-07:00

I saw this picture on this talented artist's blog the other day and it grabbed me. This picture says freedom to me. Or, more specifically, being free. Free to go outside and throw your head into the wind and smell deeply into the air. With no laundry to do or email to return or bills to pay. I think we all have that dream where you sell all your shit and just leave to wherever that place is that calls to you. Being the responsible (and scared) people that we are, we are firmly anchored to our mortgage and our jobs and have to take our moments of freedom where we get them.

I love my son. I love my life more with him in it. I'm a better person, my husband is a better man and we are a better us with him in our lives. With that said, one of my favorite moments of the day is when I pull Finn's door nearly closed while saying the love you's and see you tomorrow's. We are extremely lucky to have a very good sleeper - although if I'm being honest, I do take some credit for having the determination to stick with sleep training - but I was also blessed with a kid who sleeps for nearly 12 hours at night and another 2-3 during a midday nap. We get him to bed by 8pm and I like to be in bed by 10pm these days. This gives me a scant two hours to do whatever it is that I want/need to do. The only two hours in my entire day when I don't have anyone directly counting on me to do something. I can be responsible - wash the dishes, get my lunch ready for tomorrow, return some work email, put away toys, etc etc etc. OR, I can flop my pregnant ass on the couch and watch So You Think You Can Dance while eating popcorn. The thing is, it's ladies choice, and that's a damn good feeling.

My husband is really pushing for us to move Finn out of his crib. He's only climbed out once (back in January) and although I'm due in October, the new baby will sleep in our room for a few weeks, so we have plenty of time until we would need the crib. But for some reason, Mike is insistent that Finn is ready and he wants to buy him a twin sized mattress and start ASAP. I am typically a very positive person, but for some reason the concept of this scares the holy shit out of me. Because what is at stake here? My 2 hours. I'm totally terrified that this is going to turn into one of those Super Nanny episodes where the kids are running around the house at 11pm begging to watch Elmo, refusing to stay in their rooms. Or, waking up at 4am with my kid 3 inches from my face, staring at me in the dark. I have read every article and post on the message boards on BabyCenter.com and they all say the same thing - for some kids, it's an easy transition and for some, it's not. Wow, thanks for the incredible insight.

The conversation came to a head today and I agreed that if he felt that strongly about moving Finn into a bed, I would get behind him and get positive and we'll make it happen. (By the way, this is becoming a worrisome trend lately where my husband really gives a shit about things that he never used to give a shit about. It's weird.)

So, deeeeep breaths. I'm diving into the deep end here, potentially losing not just my hours of freedom before I go to bed, but also the naptimes and the hours through the night. Oh damn, there I go being negative again. Okay - um - I mean....YAY BIG BOY BED! I can't wait (ughhhh).

Halfway

2009-06-12T11:27:00.001-07:00

Wow, 20 weeks. How is it going so fast and so slow all at the same time? Here is my growing bump:

(Here I am at 16 weeks for comparison)

I'm feeling pretty good most of the time now, but still yarfing in the morning. Oh well, way better than the 24 hour nausea!

I was sick Sunday - Tuesday of this week with a gross nasty cold that laughed at me while I stared longingly at the bottle of DayQuil (Tylenol Cold and Sinus, you are worthless). I was a disgusting snotty coughing sniveling mess, and thankfully the schedule worked out so that my husband was able to pick up much of my whining slack.

As I've mentioned in the past, my dad is flying from Nashville the weekend after 4th of July to help us with a honey-do list that would be pretty overwhelming for my husband to tackle alone with his crazy full-time work/school schedule. We made a list of things we wanted to get done before my dad got here - not that most of the things need to get done this early, but my procrastinating hubbie and I are best under tight deadlines and neither of us much liked the surprise of early labor last time. When my water broke 3 weeks early, I stared into the mess that was my future child's bedroom as fluid dripped down my leg and held back tears that everything wasn't "perfect". By God, that's not going to happen this time around.

Manipulation, Frustration and Stop Lights

2009-06-04T08:49:00.000-07:00

How does a child know the fine art of manipulation so aptly at a mere 2 years old? Theo has started this weird game that makes me want to drive blunt forks into my eyeballs. He wants something, but he won't tell me what it is and when I correctly guess, he pretends he doesn't want it. And I try to give it to him and he turns away and so I walk away and he screams for what I just offered....so I try to give it to him again and he turns away again. This is very frustrating for a number of reasons, and I'm sure the moms of toddlers totally get it, but it seriously awakens some weird rage in me that makes me happy that I have such great anger management skills. Because I KNOW what he wants. And HERE IT IS! Look!? I've got it! Right here! And you want it! So freakin take it, will you??? This has only been going on for about 3 days now, and I think I have figured out my strategy, it's just a matter of putting it into action. This morning made me see the light.

I try to give Theo choices, so he feels like he is involved in what happens to him. I ask him if he wants chicken nuggets or a quesadilla for lunch. Does he want to wear the jeans or the shorts? His crocs or his sandals? This book or that one? This morning, he didn't want to put on a shirt. I think this was because I was walking around in my bra because all my clean shirts were downstairs hanging in the laundry room (have I ever mentioned that when my mother in law watches him on Wednesday, she does ALL OF OUR LAUNDRY? It's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me). Anyway, so I opened his closet to choose a shirt and he did that weird thing he's started doing where he kinda screws his face up and refuses to speak. I started to put on this terrible Mickey Mouse shirt that actually sings the Mickey Mouse Club song when you hit a button on the bottom hem (I obviously hate it, he obviously love it) and he refuses to put his arms through the holes and just starts wailing. So, hey, I'm flexible, I take it off and tell him we'll just get a shirt downstairs in the laundry room. All the way down the stairs he's crying and pointing with all his might (you know what I'm talking about here, right? When they put their WHOLE SOUL into pointing?). I take him into the laundry room and see a sure bet - his Spiderman shirt. Nope, he doesn't want that either. He is fighting me hard, kicking his legs (did I mention we are running late? Of course we are). So I threaten him with time out...he keeps being insane, so I put him in the spot for 2 minutes. I use the time to run around and get everything together for work and breakfast and daycare and lunch and the myriad of other shit I somehow need for a mere 10 hours away from the house. Once the 2 minutes are over, I kneel down and explain to him why I put him in time out (I resist gritting my teeth and telling him it's because "we don't act like assholes") and I try to put his shirt on again. He again starts pointing up the stairs with a huge bottom lip out and his eyes brimming with tears. Okay, you soulless mommy, go get his damn mickey mouse shirt. So I run upstairs to grab it and once he sees that shirt, the shit storm continues, because HOW DARE I GIVE HIM WHAT HE WANTS??? At this point, the running late has become running later and the low patience level has become a dire running on fumes - so I just pick him up screaming and bring him out to the car and somehow get his shirt on despite his flailing limbs and buckle him into his car seat. I keep my face calm (even though my evil eyes SO want to glare him down) and don't say a word (even though I SO want to scream louder than him) and shut the door behind me. I take a deep breath. I pull out of the driveway and into the neighborhood while Theo sniffles and avoids eye contact with me. As I merge into traffic outside my subdivision, I find myself behind someone who is ACTUALLY paying attention to the 25 MPH speed limit in the construction zone (the nerve!) and manages to go SO SLOW that we both get stopped at the stoplight that is on a timer which makes it so you are stuck for a minimum of 4 minutes even if there is not one other car for miles in any direction. My blood pressure is rising and my stress level is through the roof. Finally, once we get moving again and I manage to get through several green lights in a row, I start to breath normally and reach back and tickle Theo's legs...he lets the corners of his mouths turn up slightly. A couple of minutes later, he sees a tractor and breaks into a full smile and then all is right with the world. By the time we get to daycare, it's all good - I get the same smiles, hugs and kisses that I always get when I drop him off. My insensitive shirt wrangling is a thing of the past.

The lesson? I need to remember I'm in charge. I want to give him choices, but when he gives me the baby version of the finger, I need to stay on task and make the decision for him. It'll piss him off, obviously - but learning from the trends of the last couple of days, that's going to happen anyway, so I might as well get out of the house on time without road rage and know that it'll all be forgotten in a matter of moments. And next time? Maybe he'll tell me what he wants.

Does it ever get easier?

The important bits

2009-06-02T09:46:00.000-07:00

So today was the day - the BIG day. We had our ultrasound this morning to make sure all was well with our little growing baby and also to find out the sex. For some reason, I was all nerves leading up to the appointment. We already have a son, and this was our last chance for whatever it was going to be - we are rock solid on only having two kids, so if I was going to have a girl, this was the only shot and if I was going to have 2 of the same sex, this was it too. I went back and forth with what I wanted. I think that a girl would be amazing for Jake and I, but I also love the idea of little brothers running around together. I also had anxiety about having a girl because I was nervous about the future mom/daughter dynamic. (And it doesn't help that I'm reading "The Tenth Circle" by Jodi Picoult which is about a teenage girl getting raped - shudddder). If it was a boy, it means no paying for extravagant weddings. But if it was a boy...that means we have to think of boy names. NOT the easiest process the first time around.

Our little one was bouncing around my belly all during the ultrasound, making the tech's job a little on the difficult side to get all the views that she needed. After what seemed like a million measurements of bones and organs and the brain and the heart, she finally said "Okay, let's see if this baby will show us the important bits." She pushed the wand across my belly, and got a view of the bottom, with the legs tightly closed. "Baby is being shy," she said. At that moment, our little son opened his legs wide to reveal his bits. Looks like we've got a flasher on our hands. We couldn't be more excited.

Rabbit, rabbit

2009-06-01T11:21:00.000-07:00

In one of my high school classes (I believe it was Botany, in which I learned absolutely nothing) the teacher told us some myth about that at the beginning of each month, you should wake up and look up at the ceiling and have the first words out of your mouth be "rabbit, rabbit". And that this will guarantee you splendid good luck the rest of the month. Despite hearing this some 11 years ago, I still think about it almost every month. Usually mid morning on the 1st of the month or first thing on the 2nd. But I've never managed to actually do it.

This morning, however....I woke up, looked at the ceiling, and (despite feeling a tad bit silly) said "rabbit, rabbit" and I went back to sleep. I'm thinking good things are coming my way. And, on that note - I find out the gender of our growing little kiddo tomorrow morning.

On Mothers Day this year, I planted flowers with my boys. I also did two little strawberry plants. Don't let me fool you - I don't know anything about gardening. I buy enough flowers every year to go in my fake terra cotta pots and happily throw them all away in September. But I gotta tell you, these little guys make me happy.

Grow, baby grow....

Don't even get me started about ranch dressing

2009-05-29T14:36:00.000-07:00

I'm picky. I know this about myself. I'd rather just state up front what I want and what my expectations are so that way I can know in advance if they aren't going to be met. Perfect example: I love iced tea with a half of a sweet & low packet. Not Equal. Not Splenda. Not raw sugar. When I go to a restaurant that doesn't keep their sugars on the table, I asked if they have the pink packets before I order my iced tea. If they don't carry it, I order water. Nothing lost, nothing gained. If I go out to eat with someone new and they hear me ask this, I inevitably hear the "wow, you are picky" statement. But here is my argument -would it be better for me to order iced tea and then have them bring it to me and then when they don't have the sugar I want, send it back? No! I ask for what I want in advance. This is very logical to me.

My husband, kiddo and I stayed at my dad's house for 3 nights in Nashville last weekend. We went to spend memorial day with him, my stepmom and 16 year old half brother and my dad and did a sprint triathlon on Monday. I'm not sure exactly when this happened, but it was blatantly clear during the whole trip how accustomed I've become to the way I do things at home. Here are all the things I mentally complained about:
- The A/C was set to 78. Like, they SET it to not get cooler than that. In humid Nashville. Ugh. My house is a blissful 72 degrees in non humid Colorado, with ceiling fans aplenty.
- They don't have filtered water. I'm not like some germ freak by any means, I just like my cold Brita filtered water. And my glasses are perfect. They have weirdly thick insulated ones that don't quite hold enough liquid and the bottom edges are kinda rounded or something and I always feel like they are going to fall off the table.
- We slept on my little brothers full sized bed. The pillows were just....not right. The sheets are flannel (remember: A/C set to 78). And our kiddo was in a pack in play at the foot of our bed. Our bed at home is king sized with the softest sheets ever and a down comforter that always feel cool to the touch. I have a Snoogle pillow which supports and snuggles every little bit of my weird pregnant body. So there I was, laying on top of the sheets, hogging about 7/8 of the bed, trying not to move too much so we wouldn't wake up Finn, unsuccessfully tucking pillows in awkward positions.
- Everything creaked - the floorboards, the bed, the chairs. (remember: kiddo at the foot of our bed).

I do not remember ever staying away from home and wishing I was home so badly EVER. And not that the trip and the company wasn't lovely - I love hanging out with my dad and his crew. But I just longed for my shit. I have to imagine that this was only exacerbated by my expanding belly and my toddlers general crankiness the last day and half of the trip. But I can only assume that this gets worse as you get older. At the ripe 'ol age of 28, I think this may be a problem.

Markings

2009-05-18T20:29:00.000-07:00

The other day while giving Finn a bath, I noticed that he got his FIRST FRECKLE!

This blew my mind because it solidifies that he's like, a real person. A person who's not only going to get freckles, but also body hair and cavities and a girlfriend and a tattoo and OH EM GEE mah baby is growing up! Wait, deep breath, he's only 2. Calming down now.

Coincidentally, I also got a new freckle in a weird place - my thumb.

I don't know what this means, but I feel like it means something. Like, something to do with palmistry. But seeing as how little I know about that subject, I'm just going to theorize that it means that I am pregnant with the second coming of Einstein.

And something else that I'd like to talk about (that will NOT have an accompanying photograph) is the fact that my chest is currently expanding at an insane rate. I don't recall this happening last time until towards the end of the pregnancy. I'm busting out of all my bras and although Jake is NOT minding this "development" (heh, heh, heh) but I'm a little perturbed. Because if THIS is how they are NOW...well, then how are they going to be come October? I'm worried for the well being of my bras and also my husband, who won't be allowed to touch them for the entire time I'm breastfeeding. And seeing how they are looking so AWESOME these days, I feel kinda sorry for him.

In other CrAzY-town news, I was just asked to be in a wedding for my husband's best friend. I'm not super close to the girl, but we are both really close to the guy. And when is their wedding, you ask? Why, about 1 month before I'll have the baby. Because you know what's cute? An 8 month pregnant chick in a bridesmaid dress. Uh huh, SUPER CUTE. At least my rack will look hot.

Evidence

2009-05-15T15:18:00.000-07:00

I'm fairly maniacal about taking pictures - I have some crazy number of photos of my kid that is somewhere in the thousands (yet, he still won't cheese it up for the camera). But for some reason, I did a terrible job of documenting my belly growth with my first pregnancy and I'm not showing any drive towards doing a better job with this one. I will blame this 100% on my husband because he never has the inclination to pick up the camera, putting me in the position of awkward self portraits. Well, if that's how it's gotta be.....here's me at the 16 week mark:

I think my belly looks huge-ish for 16 weeks. And also weirdly pointy.

I had my appt this afternoon and felt some weird sense of satisfaction that I've only gained 6 lbs so far. I'm being sorta gloaty about it. Example: Towards the end of my appointment today, my doc is like "Any more questions?" and I'm all "Is my weight gain okay for this stage?" Even though I know damn well it's just fine, I just wanted to hear her say it. She looks at my chart and is like "Oh yes, it's quite good!" and I look at my husband with some smug look, as if he gives a shit whether I've gained 6 pounds or 12 pounds. Ahh, the things I take joy in...

Speaking of taking joy in things, here is my kid playing with the stirrups at the docs office. Classic.

Wordy

2009-05-13T08:33:00.000-07:00

Found a cute little tool today that created a word cloud out of your tweets - I already knew about Wordle, which rocks and I've given as a cool gift, even if they don't really "get" word clouds. So, here's my cloud from my twitter account:

Here is how it works - the more you have a word written, the larger the word becomes on the cloud. It's no surprise that nausea is among the biggest, and I'm happy to say that it's mostly behind me now. Still twinges in the evenings, but all in all, I'm feeling very very close to normal.

I'm also so excited that I'm starting to feel the baby move, which is such an interesting feeling. As cool as it is (and don't get me wrong, it's awesome) it is also incredibly strange. Also, since the babe is like the size of an avocado, but my belly is more the size of like a half volleyball already, I just wonder how it manages to get such a running start that I actually feel it.

As much as I wasn't really interested before, I'm all of a sudden DYING to know what the sex of the baby is. Our appt. is on June 2, and it can't come fast enough. I ask Finn every couple of days if it's a baby girl or a baby boy, and his answer changes all the time, although it's been a girl the last few days. When we had Finn, we had a short list of names in mind, but didn't actually pick until we had him. I wonder if this time we'd be more inclined to pick a name so that he could start calling the baby something. Just as we were the first of all of our friends to have a kiddo, we are obviously the first to have the second, so I have no idea what types of things will make the transition easier for Finn, something that is VERY important for me. I guess I need to pick up a book or something on the subject, because I really want Finn to still feel super important and loved and payed attention to. I guess it all works out, right? People do this all the time :)

Neither here nor there

2009-05-06T14:56:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought I had the cold that would NEVER EVER end, I got my 15 week email from Babycenter.com and they informed me that there is a reason that I've been blowing my nose every 5 minutes. Well thank god, because it made it so I could go see my new friend's baby at the hospital today without feeling like I was bringing along a bucket of germs. He's all brand new and squishy, full of the cutest squeaky-est little sounds and THANK GOD I'm pregnant, or I'd be breakin' out the moves tonight while simultaneously flushing birth control pills down the toilet.

I can't believe I'm 15 weeks already, firmly in the 2nd trimester. I'm feeling fab, finally, and now wondering when I'm going to start doing all those things I said I'd do when I started feeling better (i.e. exercise, cook dinner, put away laundry and all those other mundane useless tasks that I found to be quite easy to ignore the last 2+ months). I'm doing a triathlon in exactly 3 weeks and DAMN if I didn't get winded walking up the stairs to my 3rd floor office today. I'm kinda screwed, but going to do my best working out the next several days so I don't fully embarrass myself.

I'm feeling much better today than I was when I wrote my previous post on the woes of being me with my crazy family. I'm back to my zen state of being in which I realize I can only control me, blah blah blah. Although I did read a fairly beautiful post today in which the blogger described my ideal family situation. I couldn't help but have one of those "if my family could only be like THAT" moments, but ya know, it's not - and that has to be okay. Moving on now!

Random share of the day: I totally believe in Love and Sex and Magic now. Girl you are FLEXIBLE! It's kinda skanky but totally hot all at the same. I can't help but wonder what their significant others think when they see this video? I mean, I guess Jessica puts up with all of Justin's weird new heavy framed glasses, so she can deal with a little fondle here and there.

I'm off to go buy a used co-sleeper that I found miraculously for only $45, which is about half as much as I've ever seen used, I'm totally stoked. Three cheers for perfectly good used baby garb!

Deep breaths

2009-05-04T09:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, Internets, I'm just going to say it - I think the worst of my nausea is over. I realize that putting this out there could be my undoing - my unborn child will check his/her little fetal iPhone to check out my blog and somehow turn up the hormones, but I'm just going to take that risk, because HALLE-fucking-LUYAH, I feel like a normal human being. I'm only about 5 days in, but after you've spent 10 consecutive weeks of 24 hour nausea, 5 days seems like a pretty incredible reprieve. There have been several moments of sickness in the last few days, but it seems like no big deal comparatively.

I'd only gained about 3 pounds as of last week, and I just stepped on the scale this morning and was up to 7.5 pounds! Yikes, how did that happen?

I've been reflecting on how this pregnancy has compared to the last. Some of the notable similarities include craving chocolate milk, chocolate ice cream and Chipotle barbacoa burritos, puking every morning and being sick for 10 weeks exactly. However, those 10 weeks were from 10-20 weeks with Finn and 4-14 with this one. And I know it's easy to forget things that suck, but I swear it was worse this time.

Also something that I've been overwhelmed with this time is the inability to precisely control my emotions, something that I am generally VERY good at. I've been dealing with some pretty obnoxious family issues the last couple of weeks and I'm just not handling it well. I don't want to use the pregnancy card, but I just want to be like "PLEASE can we freeze the freakin drama for like a year or so??" I'd sorta like to just float along in a idyllic existance for the next few months and ignore *certain* family members who frequently act as if the rules of reality don't apply to them.

Here's the fact of the matter - I simply want to live an honest and happy life. And I feel like most of my life is like that. But then I've got these dark clouds looming over that just want to rain all over my good shit. Normally I can aptly ignore these clouds, but being pregnant and emotional and a little loony is making it harder - and not only does it make me sad, but it makes me angry. I am a lot of things, but an angry person isn't one of them, so this is an emotion I have a hard time navigating.

I've talked at length about this with the husband and he's trying to help me come up with some good coping strategies, which makes me feel a bit like a mental patient. I've just got this voice in my head that is telling me "ESCAPE! ESCAPE!" and then the other day Mike sent me a link to real estate in Guam, and I couldn't help thinking....I hear the Mongmong area is beautiful this time of year....

And so it goes

2009-04-28T11:24:00.000-07:00

I'm peeking over the corner at week 14 of this pregnancy and beginning to see moments of brilliant non-puked-on light peeking through. Now, I'm not going to get all "OMG, 2nd trimester is amazing" already, but OMG, PLEASE 2nd trimester, come through for me, baby!!

My belly is seriously out there and I'm really loving some of the new (consignment) stuff that I've gotten over the last couple of weeks. My body type really is suited very well for pregnancy. Although I have a pretty even distribution of extra uhhhh....love! Yeah, let's call it love!.....I do carry quite a bit in my tummy. My legs are slim, my ass is small and then my tummy kinda takes over. So my bottom is like a size 8 and my tummy is more like a 12. So maternity pants are kind of my best friend. I can fit nicely into a size medium jeans with that nice beautifully stretchy waistband.

I scheduled the ultrasound on June 2 which will tell us the sex of the baby. I truly don't care, which is strange for me. We really wanted a girl with a first, but Finn is like the best thing that ever happened to me - so I figure whatever I get is exactly what I'm supposed to have. It would be pretty incredible to experience what having a girl is like, but also pretty cool to have little boys, potentially brother buddies.

Mike and I also sat down and had the "how much do we need to save for maternity leave" conversation last night. This is depressing, since I am the one that brings in the larger salary of the two of us. I REALLY wanted to try to take 12 weeks this time (I did 9 with Finn) and there is just no way to make it happen. We aren't barely scraping by, but our idea of a luxurious night out is Qdoba and a rental movie. We don't exactly have a whole lot of places we can cut back on. We talked about various things in the house we could possibly sell, but we don't keep a whole lot of extra shit, so this isn't too much of a money source. We both work full time, he also goes to school full time, which leaves me with the kiddo alone in the evenings a couple of nights per week. The likelihood of either of us finding extra work right now is pretty low. How do couples do this?? And furthermore, how do couples manage to actually have one parent stay at home full time? It just doesn't add up for us.

Also, something slightly random - I wasn't necessarily keeping this blog a secret from my husband, but I just didn't tell him about it. He'd be fine with me doing whatever...I just wanted it to be my private little venting/sharing/emoting/sappy/whatever place. However, the other day, he joined twitter and I accidentally followed him on my Belly account instead of my public account....therefore, revealing my website to him. So once I realized I did this, I told him about the blog right away instead of letting him find it. And so check this out - he hasn't even looked at it. This just proves that opposites attract, because LET ME TELL YOU, if I found out he had a private blog where he was sharing his thoughts on WHATEVER, I would be lapping that shit up in like 2.2 seconds. Maybe it's because I never shut the hell up, so he is probably thinking "what in the world could she be talking about that I don't already know." Good point.

On being wanted

2009-04-23T10:34:00.000-07:00

Last week was particularly rough for me. Drama with my mom - and if I've learned one things from stories of the internet, I won't be airing that kind of dirty laundry. But let me just tell you that it's ongoing, it's exhausting and I'm far too busy growing a human over here to want a big family mess to clean up.

Jake had a random day off last week and came into my neck of the woods to meet me for lunch.
He was already there when I got to the restaurant, sitting in a booth in the front next to the windows. I walked up to the table, he stood up with his arms open. As soon as his arms closed around me, I started sobbing. My body shook and I dug my face into his chest. He held me tight even though the waiter was awkwardly trying to pass behind us at that very moment. It wasn't so much that I was upset about this specific issue that was going on - just a million different little emotions that are always rudely awakened anytime something happens with my mom. We finally sat down and he covered my hands with his.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so emotional," I said, as another fresh wave of tears fell down my face. You know what it's like when they won't turn off by sheer will.

"It's okay baby, I'm emotional too," he said earnestly.

This made me smile a little. My man doesn't get emotional. "Why aren't you crying, then?" I asked a little coyly.

"No, I'm serious. I was watching you walk inside from the car and..." - he put his hand in a fist over his heart - "I just feel so lucky to have you, that you are mine."

Now, first of all, let me tell you that I was wearing this nasty grey hoodie that our old dog chewed all these holes in and I was actually wearing the hood because it was raining. I have to say, I look REALLY bad in a hood, I'm not sure what it is. But they'll never cast me in the next Lord of the Rings movie where everyone is wearing those hooded capes. Secondly, Jake is a really sweet, communicative guy. He tells me he loves me, he kisses me in public, he holds my hand, he swats my ass any chance he gets. But he doesn't generally express himself verbally too much. He's a shower, not a talker.

On a recent Oprah, there was this gal talking about what woman really want - what gets our libido rockin', what makes us feel fantastic. She explained that it was being desired by the one who we desire. Man, this couldn't be more true. To feel really wanted, needed, loved, desired by the one whom you feel all those same emotions for. It is a truly powerful feeling and I think that after you've been married for several years, you start forgetting to make the other person aware that they are still the person that you CHOOSE. That you aren't sharing your life with them because of your mortgage and your marraige license and your kids and your religion and whatever else.

I realized in that moment in the restaurant that the parts of my life that truly affect me every day - my husband, my son, my work, my friends....that they are solid and truly fantastic (ok, my job isn't really FANTASTIC, but I am gainfully employed without risk of losing my job). I can't control every single relationship in my life (or so my therapist keeps trying to tell me). But what I can control is making sure that the ones in my life know more than that I love them - but instead, that I want them in my life. Not by obligation, but by choice.

3 times the insanity

2009-04-20T11:11:00.000-07:00

I was looking at my Google calendar this morning and realized that the triathlon that I signed up for is in under 5 weeks. I'm somehow planning to still do it even though I haven't ran in about 8 weeks. Everyone thinks I'm crazy - and I really don't have anything to prove. Well, maybe that's not entirely true. This will be my second tri - the first was in June of last year and was my driving factor for the hours I spent at the gym last spring, resulting in lots of splendid weight loss. The event was great - I did it with a friend and we stayed with each other the whole time. I would have smoked her on the swim, she could have killed me on the bike, but we slowed down so we wouldn't lose each other. The run was pretty much equal for both of us, as our legs were such jello by then, we just alternated running and walking until we crossed the finish line. This time, I'm doing the race with my dad. He was so impressed that I did the tri, he signed up for one in his state and started training right away. He's in the best shape of any 60+ year old I've ever personally known and I have no doubt he is going to kick my pregnant ass on this race. Not that it's a competition - but I was sorta looking forward to beating him. This was before my 2 month hiatus from the gym. Now, I'm just hoping that I'll be able to finish without the help of a stretcher. My hope is that everyone will be SO IMPRESSED that I'm doing the race pregnant that even if I'm dead last, I'll still get kudos. The very next weekend after I fly out to do the race with my dad is the tri that I participated in last year here at home - and I'm planning on doing that one too. So, 2 races in 6 days. Hmm. Am I insane?

I am going to force myself to resume my lunch hour gym visits, starting today. There's a pretty good chance you'll find me napping on a weight bench or sitting on a treadmill watching HGTV on one of the television sets in the cardio room, but BY GOD, I'll be at the gym.

Foot, meet mouth

2009-04-15T11:12:00.000-07:00

So it turns out that those brief 3 days last week of relief was a mere temporary tease. Easter weekend was probably the two worst days of nausea I've experienced yet, made even worse by the fact that I truly thought I was on the upswing.

My sweet, sweet husband came home last night with an arsenal of nausea-combating goodies - teas, suckers and candies meant to "ease morning sickness." He is so wonderful, even though I know his true motivation is that I start feeling good we can begin having sex again. Although he has been incredibly understanding, he did read me off the stats of the number of times we've had sex in the past 8 1/2 weeks and he seemed quite depressed by the number. I know, babe. Me too. And after this nausea and the big belly and the birth and the breastfeeding and the vasectomy is all over, we'll start doing that again - see ya in mid 2010. Smooches.

We went to a child's birthday party and Finn wore his truly adorable Uggs. Let me be clear - I would never ever ever ever pay $100 for a pair of toddler shoes. I don't even spend that much on shoes for me, am I seriously going to drop a bill on shoes for my 2 years old that he will outgrow in 3 months? Negative.

We are the proud recipients of hand me downs via about 4 different sources. One of which happens to be a very well off couple whose 2 year old is growing so fast and so big and so tall that we often get their brand new, super nice clothes that have labels on them that can only be purchased in those high end boutiques I would never set my Target-footwear-clad feet in.

I always get compliments on his shoes, because - duh that are so f-ing cute (and like crocs, Uggs always look WAY cuter on kids than they do on adults). At this birthday party, the host was raving about Finn's shoes. Like the high class gal that I am, I scoffed "they are so cute, but I would never pay a hundred bones on a pair of kids shoes, thank god for hand me downs!" She nodded vaguely and we went on to other topics.

As we were leaving, I grabbed my coat from the closet and what did I see on the floor of the closet? Oh come on, you can guess. Not one. Not two. THREE pairs of infant Uggs for her little girl, all lined up as beautiful little pieces of art. Well, ugh. As if I didn't feel bad enough.

And another thing

2009-04-09T19:34:00.000-07:00

Amazingly after my ridiculous rant a couple of nights ago, there has been a marked improvement in my nausea. I have felt closer to normal yesterday and today than I have in nearly 2 months. I am excited to actually start enjoying this pregnancy.

I read this excerpt from the Halle Berry interview in the May Harper's Bazaar:
"My pregnancy was amazing. I was happy that whole time, I felt good, I had energy, I was like Superwoman. I wish I could feel like that for the rest of my life, that's how fantastic it was."

First of all - I hate this new Wonderwall thing that msn.com has going on - on all their articles, you have to either click "next" 10 times or scroll horizontally to read the article. So lame. I get that they are trying to be all different or emo or something, but it's all too overdone and obvious.

Anyway, back to my point - when I read this, I thought that one of two things were going on. Either she did what I did a few months back and remembered only the fabulous things about being pregnant....OR....she's some kind of mutant who didn't experience nausea, back pain, sleeplessness, etc etc etc. And hey, I am one of those people who wishes others the best, so I certainly hope it's the latter. But this just makes me insanely jealous. Why is it that celebrities have such a way of pretending like their lives are all glitter and rainbows? Give me a break.

Now that my morning sickness seems to be passing, I started to think about some of the other things that I have to look forward to. One of those things, I'm determined not to experience again - stretch marks. I got my fair share with my first pregnancy, and I'd like to do whatever I can to make those the last ones I get. To be fair, I had started to get them before I even got pregnant because I had gained so much weight in the years before. This combined with the fact that my mom has terrible stretch marks had me prepared that it was going to be bad. However, I wasn't expecting them to be on my hips and on my thighs and so high on my belly....and so low on my belly. People would say "use this product" or "try this lotion" but I was all "it's my fate, I'm not going to bother with that stuff." Well, HA, I really showed them, didn't I?? Ha! Ha! Ha...oh wait. Cue cutting nose, spiting face. SO this time, I'm all up in all the lotions and creams and oils and whatever else I can slather on this belly of mine. My marks remain silvery and deep...and I'd like them to just stay how they are so hopefully they can cut them all away when I can afford my tummy tuck in 5 years. I do not subscribe to that theory that my marks are like the roadmark of my journey to bring my child into the world. My child is enough of a testament to that. Why do I also need to look at these ugly marks every day too? Seriously, if you can look at yours and smile, you are a more content person that I. And if you don't have any...well, I'm freakin jealous.

When I started writing this post, I was determined to end on a postive note since my last one was so incredibly in the dumps. So - let me take this moment to say I'm really looking forward to the 2nd trimester. No nausea. beautiful round belly emerging, the kicks and movement starting, the glow, the kindness of strangers, the smiles from random people and my cute new maternity shirts. Bring it on :)

It's about time

2009-04-07T19:41:00.000-07:00

Where do I begin? I have so much to say and yet so little patience and energy to express myself. The past 3 weeks have been difficult and ... I'm beginning to feel like a toddler who is going to throw myself on the grocery store floor, arms and legs flailing. I'm so sick of feeling sick. The nausea began right around 4 weeks. This hit me a bit by surprise since I didn't get sick until about 10 weeks with Finn. However, I was almost relieved in some way because I thought maybe it would end sooner - and it still might (and for god's sake, please let that be the case) but the last 7 weeks have been miserable.

Here's the thing - when I was trying to get pregnant, I made this proclamation to myself: When I got pregnant, I would embrace my pregnancy symptoms. Yes, I actually thought this. I truly believed that I would be so thrilled to be pregnant that anything that came at me would just roll off my back with ease. I mean, this is just totally ridiculous and makes me feel even more foolish as this nausea is making me mentally fall to my knees.

My reaction to wanting to throw up nearly 24 hours a day has been to mentally retract. I've become virtually nonexistent on all the social networking sites that used to rule my world (facebook, twitter, etc). I have stopped returning phone calls and my weekends have become long stretches of time at home. I do the bare minimum at work to not call attention to myself and the bare amount at home to not make my husband feel like there is a vagrant living in the house who is unable to do dishes or pick up their shit. I give as much energy as possible to Finn and then go to the sleep at 8pm. Not because I'm tired - because I just don't want to be awake feeling like I do.

"How do you feel today?" is the question that I'm asked about 25 times per day. I know these people mean well, but how many ways can I say that I'm always about 2 deep breaths away from puking into the trashcan under my desk?

As may be obvious now - I'm knee deep in a pity party for one...and let me just tell you, it's one hell of a rager.

Stream

2009-03-20T19:29:00.000-07:00

Things I'd like to comment on:

Holy shit, Ali Wentworth has the craziest bags under her eyes.
I bet the Oprah show is saving a million dollars this year by Skyping with all their guest instead of flying them in.
I wish the clothes in the dryer would fold themselves.
If you are trying to talk about music from India, is it called Indian music? What about Indians? What is their music called? This confuses me.

Things I'd like to bitch about:

I just bought a pair of shorts at a maternity consignment store and put them on for the first time today and there is a huge hole in the crotch. I realize they are used, but that's just annoying.
My DVR somehow skipped recording Survivor this week
When Mike has something in the closet he wants to throw away (like a pair of 4 year old work socks with 16 holes in the sole) he just puts them on the closet floor. And leaves them there. Until they "disappear" (aka until I throw them away). Because he usually doesn't expect me to clean up after him, this annoys the shit out of me.
The cheese slice that Wendy's puts on their burgers tastes like orange chalk.
I hate that it's always my responsibility to write the thank you notes.
Why am I not allowed to bitch about work right now? Yes, I realize that the economy is in the toilet, I realize people are getting laid off - but my boss certainly isn't taking a break from being a dick, so why do I have to be grateful?
Although I'm sorta happy that my previous maternity wardrobe is way too big for me, I'm not looking forward to purchasing another wardrobe I'll never wear again.

Things I'm happy about:

Mike never minds sitting with Finn for up to 45 minutes while he plays in the bathtub (one thing I have just no patience for).
Every person who has been voted out on American Idol has been a-ok with me.
Telling Mike's family tomorrow that I'm pregnant.

The diff

2009-03-19T08:45:00.001-07:00

Wow, the last week has been....long. I was not expecting my nausea to take such a turn for the worse. As I was getting used to my 2-3 hour breaks from feeling like i needed to puke, all of a sudden on Monday, it's been a 24 hour deal, with no relief whatsoever. AND, I went from morning dry heaves with the occasional water puking to full on 2-3 times a day praying to the ceramic bowl. Yesterday as I started to cook dinner for my little one, I started throwing up in the sink. Okay, I can deal with that. But then it got kinda intense and I peed my pants, people. Like, full on wet spot across the entire front of my pants. So can I curl up in a ball and feel sorry for myself? Nope! Took off my jeans, turned on the disposal and pre-heated the oven for dinner. It's just such a reminder to how different this time around is from last time. 2 1/2 years ago, I was couch lounging, sleeping late and day dreaming. This time, Finn is begging me to build lego towers at 5:30am and proclaiming "Mommy stinky!" as I pass another bout of pregnancy gas.

The only thing that is keeping me going was hearing that little babe's heartbeat on Monday. Our appointment and first ultrasound went great. I'm 8 weeks today and on track for a October 28 due date. Not sure why, but that sounds SOON! Maybe because Finn was born in February and so during the pregnancy, it was always "next year" for the due date.

Isn't this the cutest little fuzzy fetus you ever did see?

My OB is freakin great, we love her. She's really laid back and friendly, the kind of person that I really just want to be friends with...but you know, the relationship she has with my vagina keeps me from asking her to coffee. She gave us a big bag of free prenatals and I loved the graphic on this one:

I guess this woman took this brand of prenatals and her kid popped out a college graduate. Wow, potent shit.

This morning when I went to get dressed, I had a serious problem - my "big" jeans are no longer big enough. My one pair of super subtle maternity jeans are residing in the washing machine after my little pee party last night. My low rise jeans are doable, but I just don't have a shirt that will mask the belly well enough. I ended up going with a skirt even though it's been a week since I've shaved my legs and a thick black hoodie. Needless to say, I'm looking really hot. Thank god we are spilling the beans to the famillies this weekend so I can tell my coworkers and start wearing some clothes that actually fit. Here's the one thing though - my belly is really big for being only 2 months along. My OB did laugh when I complained about how far out my belly is already and said "It's funny how first time moms complain that they don't show until the 4th month and 2nd time moms are pissed that they look 4 months only 8 weeks in". I'm just not sure I'm ready for the first stranger to ask how far along I am, and then getting 'that look' when i say "10 weeks!" and they were expecting me to say I was 5 months or something. Oh well - screw 'em?

What I got

2009-03-11T18:58:00.000-07:00

There are many things I'm looking forward to with the birth of my second child. Aspects of which I'm sure that I will express in excruciatingly sappy and endless detail over the next several months. But for now, I'd like to take a moment to give a shout out to my current situation and everything about it that I really really dig:

- The ability to run into the store for one or two things without having to get a cart
- Our spare bedroom
- It's only slightly painful to pay the daycare bill
- Getting 8 hours of sleep pretty much every night
- Being able to lock the kiddo in the bathroom with me with a couple of toys and take a shower
- My current level of stretch marks (seriously, God of Skin, you really did a little number on me with the first one, let's just call it good, k?)
- Being able to take my bra off at night
- Not getting awkward looks from my coworkers when I have to close my door to pump
- Setting food on the highchair tray and having my child feed himself and eating my dinner while it's still hot.
- Never using the phrase "This would sure be easier if we had a minivan"
- Not having 32 bottle pieces and pump parts to wash every night
- Being able to focus solely on my one little man, catering to his every whim, catching every little new thing he says and learns, being there for those moments when he wants to bury his head in my chest and murmur "I love you mommy"

View from the top

2009-03-10T10:00:00.001-07:00

My first OB appointment isn't until next Monday, but I'm pretty sure that I'm right around 7 weeks. Someone needs to tell this to my belly, who seems to be under the sad and untrue impression that I am 4 months pregnant. Now, I will admit - I have been eating more and exercising less than normal, but not to extreme my-pants-no-longer-fit levels. This poses a problem for a couple of reasons:
#1 - It does NOT help my extreme nausea to have my pants pushing up against my belly.
#2 - I cannot start wearing maternity pants yet since the vast majority of the people that I see daily don't know I'm pregnant...and I'm pretty sure that would be a pretty big tell.

I bought a Be Band (Target purchased rip-off of the way more expensive Belly Band) thinking that I could wear my pants unbuttoned with it, but I can't figure out how to wear it so that it doesn't look like a pregnancy waistband in the back. I think it will be fab little item once I'm out and proud, but until then, I'm just wearing my low rise jeans EXTRA low and wearing bulkier shirts/sweaters so my belly is not bouncing around.

All joking aside, this really is SUCH an awkward time. I'm sick, tired, bloated, emotional, dazed, dizzy and just a little bit weird right now. My belly is getting bigger, but only in the fat way, not in the cute pregnant way. No one is doing me any extra special favors - they are just wondering why I forgot about that deadline, and wow, you are looking a little on the chubs side, eh?

Here are a couple of awkward and blurry "before" pics...

Top 10

2009-03-03T08:10:00.000-08:00

Just the other day I was lamenting on twitter how I don't have any of the symptoms on the lists you see called "Top 10 signs You May Be Pregnant". Well, I must have forgotten to knock on a nearby tree, because that is no longer the case.

10. Tender, swollen breasts
I've got the tender thing going on, but not so much swollen, which sort of irritates me, because one of the things I'm looking forward to is inflating my post-breastfeeding (but once high and mighty) chest to it's former glory.

9. Fatigue
I am so f-ing tired. Not like "yawwwwn, it would sure be nice to get another 30 minutes of sleep" tired....like, I am now a narcoleptic tired. I fear falling asleep at my desk or in meetings or in my car or while making dinner. I remember during my first pregnancy taking naps in my car during my lunch break and basically sleeping 18 hours a day on the weekend. My active toddler isn't a big fan of lying on the couch for hours at a time, so I'm just blearily making it through my days.

8. Implantation bleeding
Seriously, has this ever happened to anyone?

7. Nausea or vomiting
OMG. I forgot the hell that is pregnancy nausea. Thankfully, it takes straight up salmonella to get me to barf, but let the dry heaves begin. It started 4 days ago - waves of nausea that would pass over me like the smell of raw chicken that's been sitting in the trash too long. So far, I can't figure out the rythym to it, but it comes in for 2 hours, then goes for 45 minutes, back for 3 hours, gone for 15 minutes, etc. During my work day, I try to get things done like a madman during those precious minutes when my stomach isn't turning inside out. During the other minutes (hours) I am catching up on my Facebook, and People.com and whatever other websites that don't require thought or brainpower whatsoever. Needless to say, my work is suffering. I need to stock up on saltines and preggy pops or whatever else I can pretend is working.

6. Increased sensitivity to odors
My husband uses this Burt's Bees Honey lotion stuff. I've never really been in love with the smell of it, but I told him the other day he better put that stuff in a vault before I throw it away. When I was unpacking from my Vegas trip, I nearly blew my cookies when I opened my suitcase and the smell of smoke drifted out. And the other day, as I was eating my Qdoba burrito (which, just by the way, pales in comparison to Chipotle), I couldn't finish the last bites because the smell of green chili was so strong.

5. Abdominal bloating
More like "feels like I've gained 10 pounds". I got on the scale at the gym yesterday and was shocked that I haven't gained any weight. I'm fine first thing in the morning - my pants fit. But after my morning toast, it's like I'm 3 months pregnant. I'm literally contemplating going out and starting to purchase maternity clothes. I do have a fairly decent stack of clothes in the basement, but since I was 40 pounds heavier last time around, I doubt it will fit (at least not in the covert way I'm looking for right now).

4. Frequent urination
I can't tell if this is due to the pregnancy or due to the insane amount of water I'm drinking every time I feel like I'm going to yarf.

3. A missed period
Duh.

2. Your basal body temperature stays high
I never checked this....

1. The proof: A positive home pregnancy test
Check!

So, here is the thing that is NOT on the list, which totally shocks me: Absolute lack of ability to control emotions. I'm not talking about the standard crying-at-nothing-in-particular nonsense (like sobbing when that red haired girl performed "Alone" on American Idol, what was THAT all about??). I'm talking about my sense-of-decency filter that my fetus has somehow blocked. Every year in Vegas we coordinate a poker tournament for our clients at a yearly conference. This year was a great turnout, about 45 people came. I somehow made it to the final table and on one hand, I was convinced that I lost. And instead of politely pushing my chips toward the nice lady with a stiff lipped smile, I screamed "Jesus Christ Mother Fucker!" at the top of my lungs. Surrounding by clients. And coworkers. And both of my bosses. Totally beyond inappropriate (and I have the write-up in my file to prove it). Of course, no one knows that I'm pregnant at my office, so I couldn't blame it on that. But I have to lament - I would NEVER have done something like that normally. But I'm beyond normal now.

Also, I wanted to mention that when I was desperate to be pregnant, I told myself that when I experienced these symptoms, that I would embrace them and the process of the first trimester with glee. What the hell was I thinking?

Doubt

2009-02-18T09:57:00.000-08:00

This morning as I was running late for work, my husband asked me if I took a test this morning. "A pregnancy test?" I asked, confused. He certainly couldn't mean anything that has to do with school or learning, because he knows that I think that kind of crap is for the birds. "Yes" he said simply, like duh, of course you need to take ANOTHER pregnancy test because the first four may or may not have actually been positive. "Are you doubting the accuracy of the other tests?" He shrugged, like 'forget I said anything', but even though I was already going to be 10 minutes late for work and had already peed twice so far, I am nothing if not stubborn. I grabbed the cup and one of the handy-dandy bulk preggo tests I bought and went to town. I managed to test the 2 drops of urine I was able to procure before they evaporated and proudly wagged the distinctly two-lined test in his face. He smiled and hugged me, as if we were finding out for the first time. Does he not realize I've already sent out a press release and had "big brother" shirts printed for Finn? I'm starting to think he's going to be a disbeliever until I'm actually giving birth, at which time he will begin freaking out, asking me why I hadn't told him sooner.

As an aside, are these not the cutest tippy-toes you ever did see?

And now for 4 weeks of silence...

2009-02-17T14:36:00.000-08:00

I'm pregnant. And I'm fucking stoked.

(In other news, Blogger is dumb and keeps flipping this horizontal picture vertically...but you get the gist.)

So besides being achingly tired, I am so so so excited about being pregnant. I am really REALLY going to try to enjoy every minute of the pregnancy because I feel like my time carrying Finn was such a blur of nerves and anxiousness. There are 6 people who knew that we were trying to get pregnant and I'm planning on telling them that the deed is done. Besides that, Mike wants to wait until after our first doctor appointment on March 16. I'll be nearly 9 weeks then. I never really understood the deal about waiting to tell people until you were in your 13th week - I mean, I GET it....but if I were to lose the baby, am I really not going to tell my close friends or family about it? Maybe there are people have miscarriages, shrug their shoulders and keep quiet, but I am NOT one of them.

Next week I'm on a business trip in Las Vegas with a good portion of the team that I work with. This will be our 4th year there for this particular conference and the past 3 years we've gotten pretty consistently rowdy. It will be fairly interesting to figure out how I'm going to pull off the whole "I'm partying without alcohol" thing without bringing attention to myself. My plan is to have a drink (non alcoholic, natch) in my hand at all times and act slightly obnoxious. No one wants to give more alcohol to the obnoxious girl.

If BabyCenter.com has their dates right, my due date will be at the end of October, my little boo baby. I find this to be pretty perfect to have my leave over the holidays when things generally get a bit slower for me at work. This will also mean I'll be able to take all the trips I was scheduled for on our 2009 travel docket, which will cause far less waves for my boss. I guess things happen when they are supposed to, eh?*

*This is much easier to say now that I am actually pregnant, but I hate when people say this when I'm waiting for something that I want right now. But now that I'm all zen and pregnant and shit, I'm totally allowed to say this.

Inconclusive

2009-02-15T11:54:00.000-08:00

As already established, I have taken this getting-pregnant-thing to a level that I didn't know that I had in me. Whether it be desire or just good old fashioned impatience I found myself deciding to start testing on Friday, 5 days before my period was due to start. OH - and something else that I should mention that will further solidify my status as a total weirdo - I decided that I want Mike to be the one that sees the positive test so he can tell me that we are pregnant. Silly, yes, I realize this. Okay, moving on....

Friday morning I jumped up and tested right away. I placed the test on the lip of the sink and jumped back in bed and proceeded to stare at Mike until he opened his eyes. He mumbled 'morning' and tried to pretend he didn't realize why I was smirking and wiggling around with excitement. He finally got out of bed (when i pushed him) and ducked into the bathroom. A minute later, he popped his hand around the door with 1 finger extended. 1 line. Damn. I jumped up, needing to examine it myself. After staring a hole in it, I said to Mike "Look at this line, there is definitely a line here!" He takes it from me and busts out laughing. "Mike! Don't laugh at me! I see a line!" He says "That isn't a line." Sigh. (I swear it was there! I admit it was barely there, but it was there)

Saturday morning, Mike crawled back into bed with me after checking out the test and said "Inconclusive." "What does that mean?" "Another 'barely there' line." I went into the bathroom to see for myself and the line was indeed faint, but not quite as practically invisible as it was yesterday. "This is WAY darker than yesterday!" I said to him. "Inconclusive," he repeated.

This morning, I woke up at 4am with a serious need to pee, but since the tests always say that your levels are strongest in the morning, I didn't want to waste all that hormone-full urine, so I convinced myself to go back to bed. Cue 5 am. I simply couldn't wait, so I decided to pee into my cup and then just wait until a little later to test. It was while I was putting the bowl of pee onto the counter and going back to bed that I realized "Wow. I really am being weird about this whole thing." Mike had to be at work at 7 this morning, so I woke up again while he was in the shower and I got up, dipped the strip, put it on the sink and went back to bed. A couple of minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom and I sat straight up. "Inconclusive," he said. I layed back down. After he got dressed, he climbed next to me in bed and said, "It's a little bit darker than yesterday, but still light. What do you think?" I smiled and said "I think a line is line and that means I'm pregnant." "I'm not convinced," he said. Ahh, my typical disbelieving husband. He wants a neon sign to pop out from the test that proclaims, "YOU, ma'am, are indeed PREGNANT! And Mike is the father of the fine speciman! Congratulations!" and then a bunch of streamers to pop out.

After he went to work, I checked out the site where I bought the tests and the site agreed with me - a line means pregnant, no matter how faint. However, Mike's cautious optimism is definitely rubbing off on me (although he's certainly more of the cautious scale and I'm more on the 'let's send out birth announcements' side).

In my shoes

2009-02-06T09:45:00.000-08:00

For some reason I felt that it was necessary to take another ovulation test on Wednesday after Tuesday's positive result, just to see what would happen. Well, it was another positive test. Off to Google I went, and found that it was perfectly normal to get a couple of days of positives. Just to see what would happen, I took another test last night and it was negative, which was relieving to me for some reason. I think all the talk about ovulation tests is giving Mike performance anxiety, which totally sucks. I didn't want it all to turn into this, for that very reason.

I'm finding that no one really wants to talk about all of this. Especially people who aren't trying to get pregnant or haven't had kids yet. Mike has recently given me permission to tell a couple more people we are trying (although expressly forbidding me to tell family, which is fine by me) and I really haven't had anyone who I feel like I relate to completely, even the friend who has been trying for nearly a year. I tried to talk to a childless (and not trying) friend about it earlier in the week and here is our IM conversation:

**********

Me: so i'm kinda a freak now, i went to one of those sites that sells the bulk pregnancy test strips and ovulation kits

Her: lord

Me: so i've been taking these ovulation predictor tests every night since saturday

Her: honey. you're 28?

Me: (shut it)

Her: slow down

Me: (now)

Her: just try for 6 months without all this craziness

Me: it's not crazy!

Her: ugh

Her: can you scroll back and read your crazy please

Me: it's using modern science to aid in getting pregnant - i'm not standing on my head and doing voodoo. i'm like "hey, I don't want to have sex 9 days in a row, so just tell me when i need to have sex"

Her: no, i get it...i just think it's a weird route to go when you're so young and you've only been trying a little while. this seems like step 2 to me

Me: i know, i'm impatient, i don’t deny that. i'm busy and i'm tired and having sex for 10 days straight is honestly not my idea of fun...so i'm just taking some of the guesswork out :)

Her: okok

Me: i know it sounds crazy to you

Her: it does for your age. i've seen my friends do all this mess, but they are all 35, it just seem ludicrous to do it so young.

Me: but when you are (finally) like "I WANT BABIES" you'll know what it feels like b/c you want them NOWNOWNOW

Her: ok - i guess i'll just take your word for it

**********

So I guess this is like any other thing, you don't understand it until you are there.

Insurance sex

2009-02-04T08:33:00.000-08:00

So yesterday after all my bitching about potentially faulty ovulation tests and freaking out about the timing of my cycle, I came home and got a positive ovulation test. You'd have thought it was a pregnancy test I was so damn excited.
Okay, so for those of you who aren't familiar with these tests, you've come to the right place b/c I'm basically an ovulation expert now (if you can be an expert by doing 57 google searches). Basically you get this surge of a hormone called LH which is what prompts your body to release the egg. So these tests are basically telling you that your egg is going to the singles bar in search of some sperm, so those swimmers better gel their hair and bring money for drinks pronto.

So after I got this positive test, I really didn't know what to do exactly because the instructions that came with the test were pretty vague. So began my Google quest and I came across one site that said that you should have sex the day of your surge and 2 days after. And then, a line that made me laugh out loud: "Also consider "insurance" sex for one more day in case you ovulate late." I'm not sure why this struck me so funny. Another thing the site said was that in a perfect world, you will have had sex the day before your surge too - which we happened to do, so I'm pretty stoked. I know what's coming next, though...I basically feel like I'm becoming this personal little baby maker and insuring that it will happen b/c...shit - i know for certain that I did ovulate, we had sex on all the right days, i'm doing all the right things. I have to remember it's not up to me, even though I want so badly to be able to control this. I guess we'll see....

+14?

2009-02-03T14:11:00.000-08:00

So now that I am officially a crazy lady in the possession of bulk ovulation and pregnancy test strips, I am trying to figure out all of this ov stuff. My period started on Jan. 21, which puts me at day 14 now. I've been doing these ovulation test strips since day 10 and they are all coming out negative. I never used to try to figure this out before - I went to babycenter.com, put in the first day of my period, and it told me which days to get busy, so I busied myself the best I could. This is a new realm for me, turning baby making into a science experiment. It's funny to stand in front of the cabinet and decide which bowl I will pee in. Should I choose in the small bowl that I usually put salsa in? Or should I test my urine in the little dish in which I serve Finn's goldfish snacks? And when I'm done peeing in this bowl, should I keep in the bathroom for tomorrow or should I wash it? And should I throw it away once I get pregnant? I mean, the dishwasher should get it pretty much back to normal....right?

Mike isn't upset that I've turned our bathroom into a small laboratory. He's just confused. "Babe, it's going to happen, don't get all crazy." Seriously, boys just don't understand. We made the decision to get pregnant, I want a baby in my belly pronto! And thanks a gal named Shannon who commented on my blog (OMG SOMEONE IS READING THIS BLOG!!!) I was able to buy all these tests at a site for super cheap, so it seems like really, I'm saving us money because we all know my feelings on how expensive those stupid tests are at the grocery store.

Anyway, my point is that I'm afraid that my ov time has already come and gone b/c my period was so late this month, and if that's the case does everything DEFINITELY get pushed back with it? Or is there a chance that I'll get my period right on schedule this month? I know, I know, this is NOT a perfect science but I'm only 4 months in and I'm kinda going crazy!

A Simple Question

2009-01-29T15:57:00.000-08:00

On Monday night I was laying in bed with Jake and I asked him "How are you feeling about all this baby making business". Silence. Then, "What do you mean?" ... "Just, how do you feel about having another baby" because you know, that was ambiguous and all of a sudden I wondered what he was going to say. He replied something along the lines of "I'm mostly into having another child. Some days more than others. But I'm mostly there." I was surprised by this answer because I was more referring to the process of getting pregnant, not really if he was excited about the outcome of having a baby. I can't say it was a huge surprise to hear him say it - I mean, this was the guy that was nervous about having one and now we are venturing into that land where we will no longer outnumber the children. And since I want him to feel safe to share his feelings (until I'm pregnant, at which point corporal punishment will be handed down if any doubts are shared) I told him I felt the same on some days. I rolled onto my back and let my mind wander a bit, wondering why I want another kiddo. Briefly the sore nipples, sleepless nights and spit up shirts crossed my mind. But then my brain was flooded with the memories of Theo smiling at me for the first time, snuggling against me with complete trust while breastfeeding and watching him learn about the world. I have no doubts. I want this.

Blow by blow

2009-01-26T19:00:00.001-08:00

Back from vacation. Here's the highlights:

Day one (Saturday): This is the day my period should have started, but nothing all day. Two planes rides and we were in Florida and then on the cruise ship heading for the Carribean. Theo was great for the entire 12 hours of traveling from beginning to end, our luggage arrived intact, all is well with the world.

Day two: No period. Confirmed with Jake that we were waiting until Tuesday to test. Was hoping he'd budge, but no luck. Weather was glorious, Theo was sleeping/napping well, pool was awesome.

Day three: No period. Starting to get excited, but saying nothing outloud so as not to jinx anything (because really, it's possible that if I was pregnant that it would magically negate itself if I talked about it)...Jake did a diving trip, Theo got braver at the pool....and managed to slip twice and hit his head. Felt like a super duper mom as he wailed for all to hear. Could barely get to sleep this night because I was so excited about testing.

Day four: TEST DAY! I woke up and went into the bathroom. Peed on the stick, capped it and turned it upside down. Slowly washed my face, brushed my teeth, put on lotion.....grabbed the test and brought it back out to the dark room and put it on the bedside table. "So?" asked Jake. "I didn't look at it, I want you to." He got up, grabbed the test and brought it to the balcony door. He cracked the drapes apart and studied the test in the sliver of light. And shook his head. DAMNIT. I jumped up and grabbed the test from him and shoved it into the light, willing the faintest line to appear. Nothing. I took a deep breath and remembered it took several days with Theo to get a positive. Enjoyed a day of snorkling with my mom and fed squid to stingrays. No period in sight.

Day five: I knew I had gotten my period the moment I woke up, but didn't truly believe it until I went to the bathroom. I took a deep breath and went back into the bedroom and told Jake. Ever positive, he said "Well, another month of trying!" I got up and sulked to the balcony, stared out into the ocean, feeling sorry for myself. And feeling bad for feeling sorry for myself. And feeling mad that I wasn't pregnant and feeling like I was somehow ripped off. How dare my period be so late, getting my hopes up. Jake came out and asked me if I was okay, and I told him I was sad. He said something optimistic and I snarked back something like "can't I just be disappointed for 10 minutes? I'll be positive later, but right now, just let me feel this." And then, I felt bad for making him feel bad for trying to cheer me up. Fuck, only 3 months in and I'm already being a crazy person! Get it together! Several deeps breaths later, I came back into the room, whispered an "I love you" into Jake's ear and proceded to enjoy the rest of my vacation.

Day six, seven: Blah blah who cares...(not really, it was fab....really).

And now I'm back, and to the ovulation calendar I go. But now the conundrum - how long is my cycle now? Do I calculate from when the first date of my period really was or do I calculate from when my start date should have been? I plugged numbers in all kinds of ways and basically came to the conclusion that it's mandatory sex for like 12 days beginning Feb. 1.

And in the meantime, I am going to get in high gear with the weight losing. I managed to only gain 1 pound, which is a serious vacation record for me. Something about my son who will only tolerate 30 minutes of restaurant time made it impossible to get seconds of anything....so, I'm going to make the goal of working out EVERY day until my next would-be period. And even though it's 8:30pm and I'm totally exhausted, I'm going to start today, just to make a point. The ONE thing that goes through my mind around the time I wonder if I'm pregnant is "Damnit, I wish I had dropped a few more pounds beforehand" ... So I'm going to get to it. So the working out will consist of either 30 minutes of cardio or 30 minutes of weights/abs. I figure this can't be THAT hard - usually I work out over my lunch hour with a coworker and if that doesn't happen for some reason, I can easily jump on my exercise bike at home while watching one of my mindless TV shows. So off I go, to watch the DVR'ed season premiere of Lost and do the exercise bike until my butt goes numb.

Unlikely

2009-01-15T08:11:00.001-08:00

A coworker and I have morphed into having identical cycles, which is a little creepy. As we were stretching before our lunchtime workout yesterday she was complaining about being bloated and then she's all "Oh crap, you're going to be on your period during your cruise!" It was at that time that I realized that I wasn't having my typical pre-period tells...namely the sore boobs and lone pimple on some crazy obvious part of my face. It was then that I thought - wow, maybe I actually am pregnant. I quashed the urge to get excited last night and didn't pull my husband into the "am I or aren't I" conversation that he so loathes. Then, this morning I woke up with my boobs aching and a huge zit fighting it's way out of my forehead. So I'm pretty much coming to terms that it's not gonna be this month. I don't quite have the gusto to ring the optimism bell right now, but I'm sure I'll get over it.

Antsy....to say the least

2009-01-14T15:01:00.000-08:00

3 days until would-be period. Twiddling thumbs. Distracting myself with pulling lint off of my shirt. NOT taking pregnancy tests. Speaking of which, why the hell are pregnancy tests so damn expensive? This is 2009, people. I'm sure that this isn't some insane technology that is involved in the making of a pregnancy test. I'm no scientist, but my guess is that there is some chemical in a plus sign shape that reacts to hCG. Why does this cost me $14? It's a stick that I pee on. I mean, I've bought a watch for $10 and that thing works for years. All I'm saying is that pregnancy tests are a huge peace of mind for pregnant wanna-be's everywhere and it would sure be helpful if they were a little cheaper. Now, of course this won't happen because preggo wanna-be's everyone are willing to pay $14 to pee on a stick and they'll buy as many as they want, so test makers sure aren't going to be lowering the price anytime soon. But if the tests were only $7 I'd probably buy twice as many! But this makes my husband very cranky when we "waste" a pregnancy test by testing too early. It took about 6 tests until I got a positive result with Theo (I was 12 days late before I got a positive result! And one of the tests was actually at the docs!) and he was really annoyed that I kept wanting to take tests. I have a test just sitting in our linen closet upstairs...but I'm going to pack it in my suitcase and bring it on vacation with us and not test until Wednesday. Okay, let's face it, there is no way in hell I'm going to be able to hold out until then. But I will try to wait until Monday.

....and really, I'm probably not pregnant since my sperm donor errr husband was sick during most of my ovulation time. And really......late October would be more convenient time to deliver with my fall travel schedule at work. And...like usual, another month to get skinny would be nice. And...um, that's all the reasons I can come up with.

No, not me

2009-01-12T13:58:00.000-08:00

Is it possible to be trying to get pregnant without reading into every little freakin 'symptom'? I mean, we've only been trying since November and I am having an extraordinarily hard time just taking on the "whatever will be will be" mentality. I'm still not ready to start buying ovulation kits or anything, but for the last 3 months, this week before my period may/may not start has turned me into this weird pregnancy wanting hypocondriac. I read this stupid "top ten signs of pregnancy" every month and wonder if my random twinges and urges and other perceived unusualities mean I'm pregnant. This past week I have 2 main things that are tripping my pregnancy alarm: #1 - I'm freaking starving. #2 - I'm freaking tired. Now...come on, this isn't really that unusual. I'm the mom of an impossibly energetic 2 year old and I'm pretty much always hungry anyway. Other interesting things are that I'm craving some foods that I wouldn't normally eat and I'm peeing a ton. I thought this was a symptom until I read a little closer on that top 10 list and they said that the frequent peeing doesn't start until about week 6. Uhh. Okay, so scratch that from the "might be pregnant" column and insert it into the "you are a freak" column. Sigh.

Waiting game

2009-01-08T08:12:00.000-08:00

Last night, Jake and I were in bed and I asked him for the prediction - am I knocked up? "No" he said simply. I was a little surprised at how sure he seemed. I guess we'll see.

In other news, I went shopping yesterday to try to get a few things to bring on vacation. I am still surprised when so many things fit me. When you are used to shopping in the big girl stores for so long, it feel strange to fit in a Target size large. I realized yesterday as I had a huge pile of things I was going to bring to the checkout lane, I didn't even really decide if I truly liked anything. My mentality has always been "if it fits, buy it"....and I don't think I've made the switch that I have the luxury of deciding if I like it.

However, I'm still in a really awkward place with my size. I am fitting into size 12's, but really only have one pair of jeans that look good on me. I know if I could drop another 10 pounds, I would fit nicely into a HUGE stack of 10's that were given to me by a friend. She gave me no less than 15 pairs, so I need to drop this weight so I have some choices! (This is me looking forward to things other than being pregnant, how am I doing here?)

Why aren't they called Old Husband Tales?

2009-01-05T14:04:00.000-08:00

I went to coffee with an old friend yesterday and she told me that she's been trying to conceive for 9 months with no luck. Just recently a coworker told her to try Robitussin - take a dose 3 times per day the 5 days leading into ovulation. Sounded kinda bunk, but I actually looked it up and it appears to be legit! I guess even fertility docs suggest it to their patients. Verrrrry interesting. Hopefully I won't need it, but you better believe I'll be picking some up if this isn't the month for me! Is that crazy?

Jake and I are going on a cruise with Theo and my mom in 2 weeks. If I do start my period, it will be on the first day of the cruise. Just one more reason I hope I'm pregnant. Jake told me awhile ago that maybe I haven't gotten pregnant until now b/c I would have been sick on the trip. I'm sure hoping he's right.

Is anyone else out there trying to get pregnant and using any unusual methods to increase the odds?

The OC

2009-01-03T18:45:00.000-08:00

I'm totally obsessed with ovulation calculators. I'm most interested in how each one tells me something different. Take this one for example - it says I'm most likely to get pregnant from the 30th - 4th. This one says the 31st - 5th. And this one says the 30th - 9th. How can this differ that much? I mean, I totally get the span of time being different for each person, but why aren't these sites in agreement? Unfortunately it hasn't mattered much the last few days because Jake has been sick and although I've tried to be patient, I'm not doing the most stellar job. He went to bed at 6pm tonight and my only thought as I was giving him a good night kiss was "DAMNIT, I could be ovulating!!" I don't want to start buying those ovulation predictor kits, but I can understand the urge. Wanting to get pregnant is a weird thing because of all the uncertainty.

I was able to go workout a couple of days ago with a friend who is also trying to get pregnant. She is my oldest friend and we talk about how much fun it would be to get pregnant together. She is 4 days late as of today with a couple of negative pregnancy tests under her belt. Since Jake only allowed me to talk about us trying with one person, I chose her because I figured she'd be able to sympathize the most. However, since she's been trying for 8 months and she knows how quickly we got pregnant the first time, she actually told me that she hopes it takes us a little bit so I can know how it feels! Harsh!

I am very glad for the most part that we haven't told anyone else we are trying. It would make this so much harder to have all my friends wondering if I have "news" every time I call them with excitement in my voice. Not that I blame them - I'm tempted to do the same to my friend...and in fact, I literally texted her "what's the update with your uterus" yesterday.

So, I know I just need to chill the eff out. I keep staring at my NoHoHon, which, according to the manufacturer "relax your senses and invite you into a calming world". I think I need a couple...

Getting little to get big

2009-01-02T06:40:00.000-08:00

The #1 thing that I tell myself when I don't get pregnant is "this will be one more month to lose weight and get my body in better shape." When I get my period, I think - "Ok Chloe, let's lose 8 pounds this month - 2 lbs per week until the next time I'm supposed to get my period." However, this theory hasn't worked. The week I'm on my period I never seem to be able to go to the gym as much and then....who knows, I just seem to stay the same or maybe lose 1 pound the rest of the month. Here's the thing: I've got the exercise DOWN. I go on my lunch break with a coworker Mon-Thurs. I just haven't been able to keep the food stuff under control since about Thanksgiving. Thankfully, the exercise has kept my weight static (between 160-162).

I'm stoked about the weight I've lost so far but I think I've become a little complacent in a way. I got to 157 the weekend of my 10 year reunion in July....and I haven't lost a pound since then. It still excites me when I see myself in a picture and actually like the way I look, and I run into people all the time who remind me "You look SO good"....of course, they are remembering me when I was 40-60 pounds heavier, so of course they think I look good. And then I have the other little victories, like the fact that my thighs are starting to not come together all the way. This is big news for a big girl, let me tell you people!!!

A note about this picture: I was laying in bed with Jake, and lifted my legs up and noted that my thighs are getting thinner. I stared at them for about 5 minutes and then finally decided to go downstairs and grab my camera. I snapped a couple of pictures and that was that. Not sure what the hell I was going to do with it, but it seemed like the right thing to do. The next day, I cohosted a cookie making party at a friend's house for a bunch of kiddos, and I was taking tons of photos. And, of course, I left my camera there. Maybe I'm a nosy bastard, but if my friend left their digital camera at my house I would totally look through their pictures (okay, I'm definitely a nosy bastard). And of course, my friend is a skinny as a rail size 2. I'm sure she looked at those thighs and thanked her lucky stars they weren't hers. Ah well.

Anyway, Jake and I are both totally done with all the holiday indulgence, so it's back to the exercise and diet grind for me. It would be fab to take off another few pounds before this baby takes up residence in my belly. Speaking of which, off to the gym....

Year in Review

2008-12-29T12:57:00.000-08:00

So I read this sweet blog called All & Sundry and I find the author totally fab. She posts her candid adventures almost daily. Today she asked that people fill out the year end survey. Here goes....
1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?
A triathlon! I came in last. Seriously, dead last among both men and women. I did it with a friend and I let her go first across the finish line. Damnit.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I cannot remember if I made one. But it was probably to lose weight, because that's what it is every year, and in that case, YES I DID.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No, unfortunately not.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No, fortunately not.

5. What countries did you visit?
US only, but plans for others in 2009

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
VACATION

7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Our fab summer party because I love throwing parties and getting all our eclectic friends in one place, Finn's first birthday because he was so HAPPY.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Joining a gym and going regularly

9. What was your biggest failure?
I cannot seem to manage to get pictures framed and up in my house. This really bothers me.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
The usual colds, but nothing else. Never broken a bone, ever.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Running shoes.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My husband for starting school and being the most motivated and dedicated I've ever seen him.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
My crazy mom.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Bills - mostly mortgage with credit cards coming up as a close second.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Planning a vacation for January!

16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
John Mayer's live album...and Coldplay "Viva La Vida"

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier
b) thinner or fatter? Thinner
c) richer or poorer? Richer (slightly)

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Days at the pool

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Watched TV

20. How did you spend Christmas?
With my husband, baby boy and (seriously) lovely in-laws.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008?
More every day with my husband (again, seriously, he's a hell of a man)

22. What was your favorite TV program?
Survivor and Lost (same diff, right?)

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
I really try to avoid hate, but I am desperately and on a daily basis annoyed with a coworker

24. What was the best book you read?
Love Walked In by Marisa de los Santos
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Regina Spektor

26. What did you want and get?
A remote control for my camera

27. What did you want and not get?
Puma sneakers

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Paris je Taime

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Birthday 28 - Wow, I seriously cannot remember. What is wrong with me?

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
If I had gotten into size 10 pants

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
All my clothes are old and baggy. I deserve to be nominated for "What Not to Wear". Please nominate me!!

32. What kept you sane?
My husband, always.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I usually don't - but Brad Pitt in Benjamin Button is hotttttttttttttttttttttt
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Obama is my hero

35. Who did you miss?
My BFF who lives in Cali

36. Who was the best new person you met?
I didn't meet anyone new, but I did connect with an existing coworker who is now my best workout buddy.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008.
You can only control your own behavior. Don't waste time trying to change other people or wonder why people act the way they do.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again

Regina Spektor, 'On the Radio'

Certainty

2008-12-29T12:35:00.000-08:00

So I kinda officially suck at blogging - 3 posts in and I already took a 3 week sabbatical. That's pretty lame. It's funny because when I'm having my private thoughts about pregnancy, I often think about what I want to write, but then actually going in and writing it down doesn't quite happen. So I'll just post as if I haven't actually been away for 3 weeks:

So....I felt pregnant. SERIOUSLY. Like, I was certain. Boobs sore? Check. Slightly nauseous in the morning? Check. Emotional as hell? Check, check, check. But more than anything, I FELT it. Now, this was interesting for me, because besides the symptoms with Finn, I never actually felt pregnant until I could see the belly popping out and I felt him moving inside of me. And the month before last when I was reallyreallyreally wanting to be pregnant, I didn't feel it either. So I thought "THIS IS IT!" I was so certain, at one point I said to Mike "I know I'm pregnant, I just want confirmation." I was beyond cocky. I was CERTAIN. On Thursday night (3 days before I was supposed to get my period) I couldn't wait any longer, I tested. Mike and I were laying in bed and I whined "I want to knowwwww, I want to take a test" and (I swear, that man is just as excited for me to get pregnant, even though he doesn't squeal as much as me) he said "Do it!".....so I jumped up, ripped open the package and proceeded to pee on that $9 stick with excitement. I capped it, and ran back to the bed. 3 minutes later Mike got up and checked it....and I watched him, with his back to me. "What am I looking for?" "A plus sign!"...and he shook his head. Oh well, I thought....it's still 3 days before my period and Mike read me the statistics on the side of the box saying that only 54% of woman get a positive result 3 days prior to period. So I shrugged, because HEY - I was certain!

On Saturday morning, I sat down to pee and I had started my period. It was super light, so I managed to convince myself it was that "implantation bleeding" that I always read about. Although - come on, that wouldn't make sense, my period was basically right on schedule and that always happens early. So then, the next day, when it was undeniable that this was my period, I was baffled. I could seriously NOT believe it. I was pregnant, I just knew it. But of course, I was wrong. I called Mike at work to tell him and he was upbeat - "that's fine, another month of trying will be fun" he said with a smile in his voice. I felt foolish because I had been SO sure.

Later that night, I told him how surprised I was, and he just kept saying "no big deal, it'll happen".....but that wasn't the point. How could I be so convinced it was real? I felt like I was literally mourning the death of a tale that I'd spun in my head. What was wrong with me? Was I really becoming that girl? The girl so anxious to get pregnant that I convince myself that I am?

Well, I don't want to be that girl. So, as I enter another month of trying, I will do all that I can to enjoy the trying. It's all about the journey, right?

Bellyness

2008-12-08T14:31:00.000-08:00

When I got pregnant the first time with Finn, I was overweight. I'm 5'4" if I reaaalllly sit up straight when they measure me, and I was about 197 lbs when I found out I was pregnant. I'm a total "apple" - holding all my weight in the middle. It wasn't until I was about 6 months pregnant that strangers began commenting on my pregnancy, which leads me to believe that people just thought I was super fat until then. Somehow I didn't feel that big through my pregnancy - but when I look back at pictures, I cringe a little. I only gained 27 pounds, which is about perfect when you are *yikes* obese.

I don't know if it was the breastfeeding that did it, but somehow the weight just literally started falling off of me. I lost 40 lbs in the first 6 months - all the pregnancy weight and then a little more. Then, around Finn's first birthday, I decided to do a triathlon with a friend. It was an excuse to join a gym and start getting serious. I've lost another 20ish pounds since then, so I'm currently at a svelte 160. Of course, my BMI still says I'm that terrible "O" word, but I'm feeling pretty darn cute these days.

Unfortunately with all this weight loss, I'm left with a less than attractive hanging skin thing going on. Combined with the stretch marks, I'm not a huge fan of taking off my shirt these days. I know all those people say "oh, but come on, isn't it worth it"...well, i guess so, but can't I have a great kid and a decent after-pregnancy belly too?

Mike and I just had our ovulation sex-athon week.

Mike: Wow, you really know how to get me in the mood.
So now, I'm waiting to see what the outcome was. As I mentioned, we got pregnant SO FAST last time, I didn't even have time to look up information on ovulation, fertile periods, etc. I'm making up for it this time, I think I've looked at every conception calculator on the internet. Fingers crossed for getting pregnant quickly - I already feel totally obsessed with it.

Number two

2008-12-05T14:42:00.000-08:00

It's very interesting how much different trying for baby number 2 feels than trying for the first one. Mike and I both came from very small families, were the first to reproduce among our siblings and are ahead of most of our friends - and not because we are young (I'm in my late 20's, he's early 30's)..so basically we had not been around kids very much at all. We waited 5 years after we got married to start trying....I finished my degree, got a job, we bought a house. All set. Then, we sold the house and bought another house. Super set. Then, we waited some more. THEN, we started trying. Mike was always the kind of guy that was like "I could do without having kids"....but he knew that was on my agenda, and since he wanted to be on my agenda too, he was on board with the kid idea. However, I did my very best to not push the idea until he became more comfortable and excited about actually starting to try. It was early summer, right around my birthday and we were laying on the couch and he mentioned something about seeing a baby at the store and having his first urge to have one of his own. I nearly fell off the couch in excitement and eased into the idea of getting off the pill. He was game, so I stopped taking it. I was pregnant literally days later. It took FOREVER for the pregnancy tests to be positive - I was 12 days late before getting a positive result. It happened so quickly, we were both in shock....I think I was a little more excited than he was, as I don't believe that he thought it would be in action quite so soon. And so it was.....

The pregnancy was interesting. Mike tried to get excited, but I think he was mostly just putting on a pretty good show. He just simply didn't know what to expect and he's not the kind of guy to pretend he's stoked about something he doesn't know about. But - he did a pretty good job anyway. He painted the room with gusto, put together furniture, pretended to care about which bedding set we registered for, etc. But there was just something missing, although I didn't fully realize it at the time.

We decided to get my IUD removed last month, the day Obama was elected. And the way my period fell, I would have had to get pregnant basically THAT DAY. And damn those PMS symptoms, I seriously thought that I did get pregnant right away. Sore boobs, crazy hungry, nauseous, etc. There was a moment that I was in my living room, dancing with my little boy. He was really sleepy, and he had his head laying on chest and I was dancing around the room, singing. The song was that Leona Lewis "Bleeding Love" song...not really significant for any reason or poignant, even. But I was swinging around the room, feeling very motherly and beautiful....wondering if there was a baby growing in my belly...I felt like it could have been a scene in a movie. Then, I glanced up at a picture hanging on the wall that I could see my reflection. I saw how frizzy my hair looked and the red spot on my face where I picked that zit earlier and my holey pajama shirt and brought myself back to reality. My period started later that day.

A few days later, Mike and I were talking about the book that he tried to read Finn when he was in my belly. It was a short classic novel, and I usually fell asleep while he read. He never finished the book. This was mostly due to him working lots of late nights, but I think it was also because he felt a little silly, although he never actually said that. Mike said that he wouldn't have any problem finishing the book for the next baby. "I actually knows how to talk to a baby now" he said. What an interesting statement. I let it rattle around in my brain and smiled at him. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about that comment since then. I love trying for baby number two. I'm not scared of the unknown - I know it can get rough, but I also know how ridiculously incredible it is. And I can't wait.

Belly Aches

2008-12-04T13:03:00.000-08:00

*Big sigh* Finally, a 'private' blog, a place to share my thoughts without all my friends and family and coworkers knowing my every thought. I'm way too connected - twitter, facebook, myspace, blog for my kid, blog for my extended family. Every time I sneeze online, someone hands me a Kleenex. Now, sometimes this is totally fab. I post Halloween pics of my cute kiddo, and 10 people validate how totally adorable he is. Heart swells, all is well. However, this system seems flawed when I want to talk about what a huge dick my boss is, I have no where to vent because his assistant is on my Facebook, he's on Twitter, and his wife checks my kids blog (not that I would really say my boss sucks on my childs blog, come on now). Okay, so there are two possibilities at this point - either you are nodding your head in agreement, because you have the same problem. OR, you are shaking your head, thinking that this really isn't that big of a problem. I mean, come on now (says the naysayer).....do you REALLY need a forum to bitch? Do you really need strangers to read your stories? Well, NO, of course I don't. But I WANT one. Whhhhhy? (whines the naysayer)....

Welllllll.......because I'm trying to get pregnant and no one is supposed to know about it! Well, let me correct myself....my husband knows. Of course. I think. No, just kidding, he definitely knows. And it's like, the best thing ever, this exciting time of trying to conceive. And I can't talk about it with ANYONE! SO frustrating. So, the other day, I was thinking in my head of all the things I want to talk about - so I'm just going to talk about them outloud|online….in private|publicly.

So here I am world. Are you ready to hear my Belly Story?