That's MRS. Elliottpreciouspants to you!!

more pics..

2007-08-01T15:24:00.000-05:00

He's awake! Sitting on my lap. Awwww:)

He's so good. Hope you like the pics! I start nursing school soon!

I'm back!

2007-08-01T14:47:00.000-05:00

Welcome back to me! We have internet now! In celebration, I would like to show you a picture of Isaac enjoying the 4th of July fireworks:
Oops, yes, he is breastfeeding. Yeah, that's me breastfeeding a baby on the internet. That's how he enjoyed most of the 4th of July.

I'll put up some more pics another time--but I just heard him fussing, so he's up from his nap.

In case you have never seen someone breastfeed a baby--this is what it looks like. And there is nothing wrong with it. It's normal human behavior. *end PSA*

I missed you girls:)

You've got to see him in his swim diaper!

OMG, I'm back sort of!

2007-07-05T16:32:00.000-05:00

For MONTHS I have not been able to log in to this account, it suddenly worked! Woohooo!

Will try to post some new pics of the sweetie pie (who bites and walks by the way, he's 9 months old)

Oh, here's some. Sorry one is not upright. I didn't know how to change it. And I have to go nurse the baby.

Much love!

Isaacpants

2007-02-20T14:59:00.000-05:00

Hey folks!

I am at the library for a few, and they have the interweb. So I am trying to put up a few more pics of the adorablepants. He is almost 5 months old, and he weighed 15 lbs 12 oz at his 4 month visit, and was 27 inches long--long and skinny! 75th% for weight, 97th% for height. He has two teeth, he smiles and laughs all the time, and he mimics sounds now too--like, he fake coughs when I cough, and he responds to his name. He loves my mom's dogs, and he's a blessing constantly. I can't imagine like without him....although, if I tried, it would involve sleeping through the night. Yeah. Still working on it, but not very hard because it doesn't really bother me to have him sleep in my arms all night long--I kind of like it. When he's not there, I miss him.

I hope this works! I miss you all!

Happy Halloween!

2006-11-03T10:38:00.000-05:00

Well, you can see that he wasn't such a happy boy in his Halloween gear. Lots of it was 0-3 months, and just plain too small. There was one of him in a Halloween sleeper that fit him well and he liked that, but, when I tried to post it Blogger said ok it's posted but it wasn't. I tried twice. Sorry.

The one of him in his seat in the sleeper was taken Wednesday morning, and the one of him in the yellow cow outfit was yesterday.

At his monday Dr. appointment, he was 11 pounds 5 ounces, and 24 inches long. In the 95th percentile for his size! Two nights ago he almost slept through the night (sleeping for 6 hours is considered 'sleeping through the night', even if it's 8 pm to 2 am). He slept from 8 pm to 1:30am--he's getting there. Then he ate like a horse instead of a boy.

Last night wasn't that good, he was up every 2 hours or so, and he just wanted you to rock him in a chair while he slept. Once you stopped--he woke up.

He's too big for his Infantino baby sling I got at the baby shower, and so I bought this thing called a Moby Wrap. It's cool, and it's popular among NINO babywearing groups (NINO= nine in, nine out, they believe that after the nine months you carry them inside your body, you should then 'wear' them on the outside of your body for several hours a day in a sling or wrap for nine months, it's part of the attachment parenting theory, it's interesting but I don't have much time to tell you about it, you'll have to look it up to find out more, sorry) and he LOVES that. He's in that a lot.

And I am down 32 pounds! I gained 23 during my pregnancy, and now I am down 32 so far. Just from getting up with him all night, breastfeeding, and walking around carrying or 'wearing' him all day long. I'm telling you, having a baby = best weight loss secret EVER.

For your viewing pleasure!

2006-10-23T07:43:00.000-05:00

He weighed in the other day at 10 lb 11 ounces! His hair is red, the pic of him in the blue shirt sitting in the blue chair was yesterday, and yes, his other blue shirt does in fact say 'ladies man'.

I think he's adorable!

Pictures

2006-10-13T13:07:00.000-05:00

I tried to include these below, but blogger wouldn't do it for some reason. These were all taken the night he was born or morning after.

The birth of Isaac James

2006-10-13T12:15:00.000-05:00

Hello! Sorry I've been so out of contact--I had a baby, you see :):). And I hear that gives me a free pass for a while to eat whatever I want and be out of touch. My mom was here for a while, and Kevin was off work, and now--mom is back home, and Kevin is back at work (he was actually only able to take a few days off). The baby is sleeping, so I have a few minutes.

It's amazing how busy you get after you have a baby. And how your whole life revolves around whether he's hungry or crying or sleepy or needs a clean diaper....

Anyhow, Mr. Pants was born Friday night, September 29th. I went into labor that morning at 12:30 am, and he was born at 9:37 pm. It was the hardest thing I ever did, but the most awesome.

I did not have a euphoric labor and orgasmic childbirth. And even though I read Ina May Gaskin's guide to childbirth, and took Hypnobirthing and read that book and practiced frequently, my labor was also not painless.

My due date was Tuesday, September 26th. I woke up really sick that day with some sort of cold or 24 hour flu thing. My mom got here the next night. Thursday the 28th, we watched the price is right, went to the mall, and went to the birth center for a class and an appointment. At the mall, we walked around and a bunch of people asked when I was due and if I was having twins. We ran into a woman at a booth that was selling rocks and minerals and meteors and stuff, and she had one there called moldivite that is supposed to be a meteor that makes your cervix dilate. So of course, my mom bought it for me, and had it made into a necklace and I wore it all day. we picked Kevin up from work, went to the birth center, and had my exam. They said I was a stretchy 1 cm dilated, 90% effaced, and that my water bag was bulging. The midwife said I was really close, and maybe I should think about taking some castor oil to get things going. I went to my class, and of course everyone there was like "Oh my god! You didn't have the baby yet?" No. Not yet. They were telling birth stories in the class, and one girl was saying that she took castor oil and it made her go into labor. Hmmm.

The midwife gave me some castor oil, and that night while I watched the Office, I drank 2 ounces of it. It was nasty and hard to drink, because I kept gagging. But I got it down.

Mom and I watched ER, and I went to bed after that.

At 12:30, I got up, beause my back was having some sort of spasm. It went away after a couple minutes, but then, it came back. It kept doing that, and I had to keep getting up to go to the bathroom (remember, I did drink 2 ounces of castor oil). At one time when I stood up, I felt something warm trickle down the inside of my leg. I wondered "Hmm, is my water breaking? Or is that my imagination?" I didn't feel anything else like it, and I couldn't tell if it was really wet because I was so hot and sweaty that honestly, al of my clothes felt damp, so, whatever.

I decided to start timing my back spasms, just in case they were contractions. They were about 5 minutes apart. So I woke Kevin up (at about 2:30) and told him "Hey, I think I could be in labor, but I'm not sure". He started timing the back spasms, and decided they were in fact about 5 minutes apart. We woke my mom up, and she said, go back to sleep. If you can sleep through them, they aren't contractions. But I hadn't been able to sleep since 12:30 because they hurt like a son of a bitch, so after trying to go back to sleep, I gave up and sat in a rocking chair in the living room. I was worried though that I hadn't felt that big gush you are supposed to feel when your water breaks, and I didn't know if I was having contractions or not because I didn't know they were supposed to feel like a really severe back spasm.

Kevin went back to bed. At 4, I got him up again, and he timed the contractions, and they were 3 minutes apart, and lasting about 2 minutes each. We got my mom up again, who decided I should call the midwife. I called the midwife, she told me that if I was in labor, I would probably be in labor a long time, and should just try and get rest and if I am still having contractions later in the day, then I should come in. But I couldn't rest, and my mom and Kevin were both up timing every contraction and getting more excited with every second. I called the midwife back about 5:30, and told her I didn't want to wait until later in the day, I couldn't rest, because they were too painful and too close together, and I wanted to be checked sooner. Like before rush hour, so I wouldn't get stuck in traffic with a bunch of painful contractions. So she agreed to have the other midwife that would be on call at 7 am meet me at the birth center.

Kevin called work, and told them that I might be in labor, and if I was, he wasn't coming in. If I wasn't, he would be there late.

We got to the birth center, they did an exam, and said my water had broken, I was totally effaced, and dilated to 5 cm. So I stayed, and they knew I was in active labor, and i would have the baby that day (you have to have the baby after a certain amount of time once your water breaks, or they have to take you to the hospital for a c-section).

Well, things are a blur after that. He was in the wrong position, and not coming down. So they had me doing all sorts of things to get him to turn the right way so he could come down easier. I walked up and down flights of steps sideways. I labored on my side, in a rocking chair, on a birth ball, with one leg on the bed and one leg down on the floor, laying on the bed with my huge belly hanging off the side-nothing brought him around. By 10 am, I was 7 cm, and my 1pm, I was 9 cm--almost the full 10. They said I would get an urge to push, but, I never did. And then I tried pushing, but I didn't know what the hell I was doing. He still wasn't coming down.

I laid on the floor on a blanket and they tried to shake me to get him in the right position. My contractions were a minute and 45 seconds apart, and lasted for a minute and 30 seconds. It was like that for several hours. I asked if me or the baby was going to die, because I couldn't imagine that we would both live through this. Then I told them that I hoped the next baby was in the right position--and thought I must be insane to be planning the next one at a time like this. But I seriously thought I might die.

At 6 pm, they gave me 2 choices. I could go to the hospital, or they could give me an IV for some fluids and something to relax me called stadol (might be spelled wrong) so I could get some rest, get rehydrated, and hopefully just push him out. If I couldn't though, I had to go to the hospital. I took the IV.

At 7, they got me up, I went to the bathroom, I laid on my side on the bed, and I was like ,"I'm f-ing pushing him out. He's coming out now.

I pushed for a couple hours, and I pushued him all the way down and all the way out. Once i could feel his head, I was like, "You've been in there long enough!" And I just pushed all the rest of him out. And he was bornat 9:37 pm. And he was perfect. And I didn't have an episiotomy, but I did tear a little bit near my labia (they said it was a very weird place for a tear). I have 5 stitches.

He had the biggest conehead I've ever seen! And he shrieked like crazy! And he breastfed right away. And he weighed 8 pounds 14.5 ounces, and was 21 inches long. I've never loved someone so much. Girls, when you have your baby, it's the absolte most intense feeling of love you ever felt.

We named him Isaac James. He's everything.

Dreaming of baby part deux--symbolic birth dreams

2006-09-21T05:29:00.000-05:00

Last night I dreamt that my mom was in an ice cream store, and I was trying to get to her. In order to get into the ice cream store, I had to crawl through this big long dark tunnel. The tunnel was totall darked, and filled with coats and blankets that I had to crawl around to get inside, and it was really long--it went around half the store before you could actually get in. I kept thinking "What a stupid way to make an entrance to your store--who would do this? This sucks! I can't believe my MOM got in this way!"

But then I got in, and I saw my mom, and she was buying a carton of superman ice cream. (Incidentally, last weekend, I had a mad craving for superman ice cream, but they don't have it in this part of the country apparently, and I couldn't even find anyone who had ever heard of it. I did not get any:(.) When I saw her, we were both so happy, and I was happy to see her and to eat some superman ice cream.

OK, here's where it gets weird (yeah, as if that first part is all totally not weird.....whatever....bear with me here)

While we were talking about purchasing the ice cream, and I was telling her how hard it is to find that kind here, a woman came up to the counter and asked if we wanted a dessert called oreo madness. I immediately thought of the dessert called that from TGI Friday's (although they discontinued it---I think they will probably go out of businss now, that was the only reason I ever went there) and said yes, I want one, let's get one.

Mom was like ok, as long as you share it with me. So the lady went away, and then came back and said I'm sorry, I can't make oreo madness for you, because we don't have anymore rum raisin ice cream. I said I didn't like rum raisin anyhow, and couldn't she just make it with vanilla or chocolate? Then she said "Oh! I'm sorry, how long have you worked here?" and I told her I didn't work there. She got really mad and said "I know! But I have worked here my whole life! And I KNOW that you can't make oreo madness without rum raisin ice cream! So NO! I will NOT make your oreo madness with chocolate or vanilla."

But I didn't really care, because mom and I were buying the superman anyhow.

I woke up then, before getting some ice cream, and that was quite disappointing because I will have to wait until I am in Michigan again to have superman ice cream I guess, and by that time, there is no guarantee I will have a taste for it.

No pants yet.....five more days until my due date!

Dreaming of Baby

2006-09-20T12:27:00.000-05:00

He's not here yet, but he only has 6 days left on his lease, so.....almost time to come out. Anytime now, still.

I keep dreaming about him, which is awkward, because I can never sleep. I have terrible insomnia, and it got really weird the other day when I didn't sleep almost at all at night, and then felt fine all day when I expected to feel like crap. Weird.

But I've dreamt about him being here, a lot. In two dreams, he's playing with my Grandpa's bird, Rosie. Rosie is a double yellow headed amazon, and does NOT have a friendly temperament. If anything, she's evil. But she's beautiful, and she's smart, and she talks a lot, and very well. She's fascinating, and she loves Grandpa something fierce. Just as fiercly as she hates all others. But anyhow.

In two dreams, that I have had several times each, I am either introducing him to Rosie and he loves her, or I am letting him play on the floor and Rosie runs up to him and cuddles him--and I am relieved because I am afraid she will bite him. He laughs and smiles through both dreams, although in one he has red hair, and in another he has very dark hair. And Rosie climbs on him and cuddles with him, and he loves her.

Which is weird, because like I said, it's Grandpa's bird. My mom has birds too, why am I not dreaming of them? Because I must be a freak.

Last night I dreamt that I was taking him somewhere, and I was deciding what he should wear. I was getting him dressed, and he was so cute and smiley that I kept talking to him and kissing his chubby little cheeks and telling him how much everyone loved him--me, his dad, the bunnies-and he just cooed at me and looked adorable. But he was fat and bald in that dream.

I also dreamt that I lost my mucus plug. Now, normally I warn people about gross things, so, notice that I did not. Here is what happened: I was sweeping the kitchen in my dream, when I found three of those wires for the video cables for your TV--you know, the red yellow and white wires that plug in to the back? They were all wound together. I was like what's this? I thought for a minute, and then I was like !! It's my mucus plug! I must have lost it! Now the baby should come any day for sure! It occurred to me that it was odd that I never noticed it come out, especially since it was three wires wrapped in rubber, and it also occurred to me that it was odd that I found it on the kitchen floor.

emotional control is for pussies

2006-09-19T15:10:00.000-05:00

Things that have made me cry over the past few days:

1. My brother called me, and we got into a fight, because he thinks I should circumcise the baby, and we don't plan to. He got pretty nasty about it, and I told him that it basically wasn't any of his business, and he had two kids already that he got to make all his own choices for. I pointed out that I never stepped in and told him how he should parent his children, and I would like the same kind of respect from him because I deserve that. He replied that of course I never 'stepped in' for him, because he never planned to something life ruining to his children the way I am planning to ruin our baby's life by not circumcising him. Obviously we have a difference of opinion, and he's never even looked into the not circumcising-debate, he just thinks he's right for no reason, and he should just get to say what he thinks. Personally, I think, that he's just upset because if I don't do everything the way he did it, then that might cause him to question the things he did, and therefore could potentially show that maybe he didn't do everything perfect, and there is another way to do things. Maybe.

2. My mom. She's overwhelmed, and she's busy, and she's sad. And that makes me cry.

3. My brother supports Notre Dame. I cried about this a little while we were watching Michigan annihilate Notre Dame on Saturday.

4. Some teacher on the news, was having a really hard time reaching her middle school students. She really idolized her first grade teacher, and at the end of the program, they brought her first grade teacher out to see her. At first, the younger teacher didn't recognize her first grade teacher, but when she did, she was so happy to see her that she cried. And so did I.

5. On Meerkat Manor, Youssarian took Mozart's babies out of the burrow to attempt a burrow-move, but since he's crazy, it didn't work out, and one of Mozart's babies was left out to die alone in the desert in Africa. I cried.

6. In the next episode of Meerkat Manor, Flower realized her family was getting too big, and she kicked Mozart out because she had babies. They had a big fight, and none of the other meerkats will groom Mozart, and she has fleas and ticks all over her. And her babies stay with the Whiskers family. I cried again.

7. On Meerkat manor, Courageous little Shakespeare is injured because of a snake bite. And he's not healing well, and then he got into a fight with the Lazuli family.....and he was all hurt and bloody. Poor Shakespeare. I cried still.

8. Why the F am I watching Meerkat Manor, when each half hour episode makes me cry several times? I'm pretty sure that I hate that show.

9. Lloyd Carr was so happy when we beat Notre Dame:). I'm so sad I wasn't able to be there, and more sad that my brother WAS there, at the game, supporting Notre Dame. Traitor. He's not even a catholic, why does he like them?? I cried again thinking about this later.

10. The pool at our gym closes at 3:30 sundays. I didn't know, and I got there too late to swim. You would think that's not something to cry about, but....

11. I was driving home from the grocery store yesterday, and was stopped at an intersection. Suddenly, a bird fell from the sky onto the road. About six people then ran it over. I still can't talk about it.

12. Saturday evening, at church, they played a song called Beautiful Savior, and I think it's like the worst hymn I've ever heard. The name shows potential, but the music sounds all pounded-out with no melody or tune. It made me try and leave church before I started crying.

13. A girl at church was wearing flip flops, and she had DEFORMED TOES. All I could think, was, what did your mom do while she was pregnant that made part of your body deformed? Then I thought about Mr. Pants being teased all his life for some deformity, and it broke my heart. I hope I haven't done anything awful to him unwittingly. I can't wait until he comes out so I can look him over and make sure he's ok.

14. My parents' anniversary was yesterday (30 years! Wow!) and I stopped into Red Lobster to get them a gift card to go in their anniversary card (which is getting to them late, I know). They love Red Lobster though, so, they'll like it. But I saw all the lobsters in the tank, and I felt the tears rise in my throat, and thought "not this again!"

So I think, like my title says, emotional control is for pussies. I think it takes a whole lot more bravery to let yourself wail like a blubbering fool for no reason in a room full of people than it does to hold the tears back and cry on your own time, over only crying-appropriate things. You have to have some serious balls to just cry for nothing, in front of anyone, all the time. Yeah.

U/S update

2006-09-15T14:33:00.000-05:00

As I expected, he's normal, but big. Not even that big--they estimated he is 8 pounds 8 ounces now. There is only one of him, as expected. Some interesting comments they made:

His penis is very large (and they took a picture) but not abnormally so. It's just extremely prominent.

His legs and arms are very long--all came up as 'out of range'. I asked what that meant, and she said it meant they were measuring longer than 42 weeks.

For his size, they are estimating him to be 39 weeks 2 days, and september 20th to be the due date. But they did say that the due date according to LMP is the most accurate, which we all know is Sept. 26th.

According to the measurements of his head and abdomen and stuff, he is in the 87th percentile for size.

His heart rate was normal, in the 150's most of the time.

He responded a lot when she was using the u/s wand thing on him. He moved a lot when she pushed on him. I couldn't feel most of it though, but we could see it on the outside.

His spine is extremely long. It starts down obviously at his head, which is down in the -1 position of my pelvic bone, and his back curves all the way up the bottom and side of my stomache, under my right boob, with his butt being in the very center of my chest under my heart. Those hard things I feel on the left side of my body are his arms and legs kicking and punching around.

At first, she said he didn't seem to have a lot of room left to move, but later she decided he was actually moving a lot. Which is exciting still:).

He is laying right on top of my placenta. Still! I remember from one of my early u/ss that he was really placenta-happy, always laying on it like a pillow, punching it and kicking it and cuddling it....now he has it laying near his spine. Awww. He's going to miss it when we throw it away in the biohazard waste.

Of course, none of this stopped me from calling Kevin and my mom and telling them both that we needed to go to babies R us TONIGHT for a second car seat....ha! Kevin, who couldn't make it to this u/s, freaked out and then I told him I was kidding, and my mom freaked out too, but just for a second. She said I almost gave her a little meltdown. Hee hee:)

The midwife was really relieved, and said that was great, and if he was really tall that explained a lot of what she was feeling in my belly, and that anytime in the next week or two she figures we're going to have him!

In the meantime, I will continue to have a lot of sex and eat spicy food. Kevin won't mind:) (so long as I am having it with him....*wink*)

Another Ultra-Sound

2006-09-15T09:15:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I went to the midwife again. Every week now. Everything was normal. My blood pressure, I was up 1/2 a pound, I am now 70% efffaced, and dilated a little over 1 cm. He is still in the -1 head position. His heartbeat was normal.

BUT then....when she was trying to feel him for position and size...she started having a really tough time. She said "He's really big....here's his back....oh, no, here's his back....or is this is leg? If this is his leg, it's awfully big in order to be mistaken for his back....and it can't be his back, because I can definitely feel his head when I feel your cervix....Oh Julie, I don't know. Would you be opposed to going to another ultra sound? I just....I just want to make sure he's not, well, two. And I want to make sure he's not 14 pounds or something. If the u/s says he's about 9 pounds, and that there's only one of him, that will be really reassuring. If there's two, and we just haven't caught it yet, or if he's 14 pounds, well then we'll have to talk."

I reminded her that I've had 3 ultra sounds already, and there has always only been one.

She said she suspects all of those ultra sounds are accurate, but, she just wants to double check.

I don't really know what I think about that. I highly doubt it's two. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be horribly shocked if he were 12 or 14 pounds or something. And I don't even care. I just want him out now. And if he's huge like that, well then, I get some serious kudos for carrying around and birthing a giant baby, right? No problem. He shouldn't be big though--no reason for him to be THAT big. I don't have gestational diabetes, I mean they tested me twice! And I haven't gained a ton of weight, only 21 pounds. Oh wait, 21 and a half. Still, that's nothing crazy for a pregnant woman.

My u/s is at one. I guess I just have to wait and see.

A guy I work for, his daughter in law HAD the same due date as me. Joe came in today and told me he has a new baby granddaughter, 6.5 pounds, born this morning. I'm such a jerk, because I should be happy for her. But honestly, my back hurts, my lower abdomen hurts, I'm so uncomfortable. I can't even sit all the way through a movie anymore because things start hurting and I need to get up and walk around. My legs hurt. I'm tired. I am trying to feel so happy for her that she had her baby, but it's really tough because I just feel jealousy and/ or envy.

I'll bet he's perfectly normal--maybe 9 or 10 pounds--but just laying in an awkward position that made it tough for her to feel his size.

Sareet should have a baby.

2006-09-14T06:21:00.000-05:00

My pal Sareet is McFuddled. If you read her blog, she's having a tough time deciding some life goals. So I thought I would post something on my blog--beause I know she'll read it eventually--to help her out.

Sareet, you should get knocked up!

Think about it, in a few weeks, I am going to have a baby! And you could potentially be pregnant too! Look at what I went through--didn't it look like fun?? And then our babies could be close in age, and maybe you would have a girl and I could have a boy and they could get married someday--and look how much we would love our in laws! It's perfect!

Plus, it would give you and opportunity to make some goals. You could be like, OK, this is how the baby will fit into my life- and then just fit everything else around it. You could make your life goals things like:

1. Finding the perfect car seat.
2. Finding the perfect car seat for when it gets bigger.
3. Where you want to live--have to consider school districts now.
4. To breastfeed or not to breastfeed--remember, breast is best, but mothers who don't breastfeed can certainly bond with their child over a bottle and love it just as much (yes, that came directly from one of the many classes I took)
5. Choosing a stroller--a deluxe travel system, a jogging stroller for if you are on a health kick, or a lightweight convenience stroller---doesn't have all the bells and whistles of the deluxe travel system, but you can lift it in and out of the truck for quick trips to the mall.
6. Have to stop swearing.
7. Have to stop drinking, at least for 9 months. Longer if you plan to breastfeed (unless you are going to drink, then 'pump and dump'--ha! more lingo from my classes--see what I have learned!)
8. What are you going to name her? Her moniker will be forever, don't choose something embarrassing or dumb that she'll hate when she's a teenager, which of course you can't predict. (No need to think of boy names or even circumcision--we already decided you are having a girl, I am having a boy, and they are getting married).

See all the things I could think of in only a few minutes? life goals, learning new things! Doesn't it sound fabulous, and like the solution to your problem?:)

So quick, go home, use needles to put holes through all your condoms or replace your BC pills with vitamins (oh no! Max doesn't read MY blog, does he?? I hope not, we don't want him to be onto your plan--it's best if this is a, uh, 'surprise' for him, don't you think?). You could be knocked up in no time!

Oh, and from a pregnant mom who's been there? Those lotions and creams to prevent stretch marks--yeah. I don't think they actually really work on all people. It depends mostly on your skin I guess. Good luck with that.

Pig could have a human sister!!

The best part about this post, is that I'm on eastern time, Sareet is on Pacific time, and it's about 7:30 am EST. This will be up for HOURS before she even wakes up, let alone before she even reads it!

I love you, Sareet:) I hope your soul starts feeling better soon, and I hope this made you laugh:). It was meant to. If you are mad, whatever you do, just don't wish me pregnant longer--I can't wait for the kid to COME OUT!!!:):)

Speaking of friends--Kari, where are you?

The circumcision debate

2006-09-12T13:13:00.000-05:00

For the past few, well, months, Kevin and I have been 'discussing' (I'll not say arguing) about whether or not we should circumcise Mr. Pants. The American Academy of Pediatrics says it's cosmetic surgery, and rate of infection is determined by cleanliness, and if the kid is taught to clean it right, they won't have infections. It used to be believed that circumcision was a necessarily evil to prevent infection.

We even talked to a pediatrician, who said it was really a personal choice, because it was purely cosmetic.

I even read an article in a Playboy magazine about the effects of circumcision on men's sex lives.

I read another article about how circumcision can prevent the spread of HIV in Africa.

I even talked to the guy from Scotland that I work with, who is not circumcised, and is from a country where pretty much no one aside from the Jewish community are circumcised.

So, I tentatively decided I didn't want to do it.

And Kevin decided he wanted to.

We talked about why--my reason was, it's not neccessarily, and it hurts.

His reason was, he wants the baby to 'look like him'.

I asked if he planned to set aside an hour a week or so for him and the baby to check out each other's things, because if they don't do that, well then, it's not worth it to have the surgery just so they look like each other.

He argued that I was sick, and he would never do that, and that he knows I wouldn't hang out comparing my vagina to our daughter's if we had one, and that why should he do something sick like that?

I told him that I also didn't plan to cut our daughter's vagina up when she was an infant.

We've been at a standstill. I've basically been begging him for a reason that convinces me to do it--that I want us to be in agreement on whatever we decide, but that I need something better than "I'm macho, and want my son to look like me inside his pants". Whatever.

We went saturday morning to a mother/ infant assessment class required by the birth center. It was pretty boring, but Kevin and I are pretty birth-classed out. They talked about baby poop, caring for stitches after the birth, taking temperatures, watching for jaundice, etc. Then they showed some slides of what the babies look like when they come out, pictures of the placenta and umbilical cord, and all that stuff so that you knew what to expect. At the end, they had slides of a little boy being circumcised.

Before she showed them, she told us all that if we wanted to leave beforehand, we could. Kevin and I, since he wanted to do a circumcision, and since I was probably going to go along with it against my will, decided to stay and see what it looked like.

We saw slides of a little baby's legs strapped down to a plastic board, and then a sheet with a little hole for the tiny baby penis attached, and then a little tool that pulled the foreskin overtop of it, and they someone cutting it. Then some stitches afterward, and the sheet was all soaked with blood. Then we got to ask some questions.

I, personally, wanted to cry. I thought it was horrifying. Another girl that had opted to stay, actually did cry. The nurse teaching the class suggested that the parents should be there with the baby when he has it done, because they are usually pretty upset because it's painful, and for pan relief they usually give them a bottle of sugar water. They can give them shots to numb it, but the shots in the tip of the penis are just about as painful as the procedure, so, it doesn't matter either way.

One person asked if the baby cries.

The nurse said she had only seen the procedure once.

The person asked if the baby she saw cried.

The nurse said yes, it did.

The person asked if it cried a lot.

The nurse said it screamed the whole time.

So, I started collecting my things and picking up my stuff. I had to leave before I became the embarrassing girl who was crying in a room full of people.

Kevin followed me out, and we got into the car, and I started to cry a little and mentioned how I was so happy that at least I was able to hold off the tears until we left.

Kevin was pretty quiet for a few minutes, and then he said "Honestly, after seeing that, I don't want to do it anymore."

I was like "OK, you know I don't want to do it, but, how was that shocking? What did you think it looked like?"

He was like "I don't know--but I didn't think it looked like that. I don't want to do that to our kid, just so that he can look like me--it's not worth that."

Then he reached over and patted my stomach and said "It's ok Pants, you can come out now--don't be scared, we aren't going to do THAT to you!"

*sigh of relief*

I'm so glad. And we are both on board. Thank you.

Did you know that nationally, 60% of baby boys are currently NOT circumcised? Our midwife told us that.

How terrible would it be?

2006-09-12T09:39:00.000-05:00

OK, so after some negotiation, the name Elliott James is back on the table.

Marcus James, Theodore James, and Elliott James.

And actually, last night, I dreamt up two more names--Elias James and Isaac James, but I haven't asked Kevin about them yet.

But I like them a lot.

Now, not EVERYONE knows this, but you all know this--I had a pet named Elliott. He was a gray and white bunny, and like Evita, he died before his time. He was only two, and he had some intestinal problems and he died. And it broke my heart because I loved him so fiercly (I think you can only understand if you have had pets that you truly love).

I suggested Elliott earlier, and Kevin said no way, because evidently he thought it was just after my bunny, and he didn't want to name our kid after my pet. I didn't really feel it was after my pet--I mean ok, I had a pet named Elliott, but, I still really love the name and think it's adorable. If I never had a pet named Elliott, I would still want to use the name.

After more discussion with Kevin, he understands that I don't want to name him Elliott AFTER the bunny--I just truly love the name. But we have decided to keep this to ourselves for the time being. Most of our family and friends know about Elliott the bunny, at least most on my side, and might make the connection. My parents and brothers would IMMEDIATELY make the connection, and would be very critical.

But through his life, friends and strangers that he meets would have no idea that I had a pet named Elliott, too.

He might hear it someday from a family member, something like "You know, before you were born, your mom had a pet rabbit named Elliott, too".

So, my question is--is that terrible to do to a kid? I mean, he's going to way outlive the rabbit, and the rabbit's memory will fade, right? And the fact that our son shares a name with a passed on pet will eventually fade, too, and the name will become only our son's name.

Would it be wrong or cruel for a child to share a name with a beloved pet? Provided of course the name is human appropriate (Sareet, I don't think you should name your future daughter Pig, after your dog. Just FYI!:)).

What do you think? Am I crazy? And if you read this and have contact with either of our families, don't tell them we are considering the name. His family might not know about/ remember about the bunny Elliott. My family will SURELY know about it, and they would really give me hell and tell me I'm a nutcase.

Are they right?

Happy Memories for a Happy Friday

2006-09-08T11:55:00.000-05:00

I am so happy it's friday! I am so ready for a break! Again!

Went to the midwife yesterday, and they determined that he's still in there, and everything is normal. So sweet. They still think he's big. This midwife guessed about 8 pounds now, which is in line with last week's guess of 7.5 pounds. His heart rate was normal, I was normal, and she said:

"Now, we're just playing the waiting game...."

They didn't check my cervix or anything this time. The midwife I had yesterday, Alisa, thinks it's silly to check it everytime, so she said no, it doesn't even matter if you aren't in labor, and she doesn't want me to have anything else to worry about. That's fine. I don't need anything to worry about more than I already have.

By the way, I am putting my Halloween decorations up this weekend. Might be early, but, I've got a lot of really cute Halloween stuff, and I'm not going to be stupid and wait for a closer time to Halloween. I might not have time after Pants gets here, and, I don't want his first Halloween to be less than wonderfully festive. I don't want him to miss out because I'm being a wuss and can't feed him 8-10 times a day, change his diapers, sleep, take care of myself, and make the house awesomely Halloween-ey.

I scheduled his baptism today, for November 19th, 11 am mass. Father Dale, the guy that was the priest at my parish growing up, is doing the ceremony, and I feel so great about that!

It makes me feel a little sad that he's going to be baptized so soon--my little man is growing up already, and he's not even out of my uterus yet. Oh, he's going to be so precious!

The other day, Kevin and I were leaving the birth center, which isn't in an awesome part of Wilmington. We usually see tons of people walking the streets, and if I am alone, the men usually will approach my car and try talking to me through my windows when I stop at stop signs. So I don't like to go alone. But when Kevin is with me, no one tries to talk to me. A lot of times we see scantily clad girls with huge heels and ass shorts walking down the street, and I try to start up a version of a game I played with my brothers, and I ask "See that girl? What's your guess--is she a hooker, or is she just an oversexed 15 year old?"

Kevin knows this game, and he refuses to play. "That's mean! I'm not playing your stupid game!"

EPP: "Aww, come on! It'll be fun! It's a fun game!"

Kevin: "No, it's not, it's just mean, and I'm not playing. You always take it too far!"

The game dates back to my childhood. My brothers and I used to get really bored during car rides, and it seems we did a lot of car rides since we had a cabin up north and a cottage in the east for vacationing, and we visited them frequently. The game has no name, it's a conversational 'this or that' game, where you take turns asking questions of the other person. When we were younger it went like this:

EPP: "Would you rather eat an ice cream that fell on the ground, or fried liver?"

Big Brother (Big B): "Hmm....an ice cream cone that fell on the ground. Would you rather smell dad's fart, or stick your finger with a pin?"

EPP: "Hmmm, could I stick the pin in my finger really fast?"

Big B: "Ummm, ok, yeah, really fast, and it's a sharp one"

EPP: "*considering options* Well, how long would I be exposed to the fart smell?"

Big B: "Let's say you are locked in a room without windows or doors with it for 5 minutes"

EPP: "The pin. I would rather stick myself with the pin. OK, would you rather...."

Get the gist of the game? As we got older, it evolved into 'older' topics, who would you want to go on a date with, would you rather get caught cheating on a test, etc. As we got even older, well...

The thing about my family, one of the things I love about it, is that there aren't any lines really. My parents are not easily offended, and I guess we all have a somewhat sick sense of humor on some level. At the point where Kevin entered my life, the game had evolved into just plain wrong. Continuous, too--even months or years apart, as one of us thinks of something equally horrifying for the other to answer, we ask the questions. I occasionally get calls like this:

*WARNING--I'm not kidding, the following isn't nice. It's gross.*

Big B: "OK, I have to ask you something"

EPP: "Yeah?"

Big B: " Who would you rather have sex with--"

EPP: "I f-ing hate you. I hate the who would you rather have sex with ones, I don't even want to hear it"

Big B: "Dude! No! You HAVE to hear it! I just thought of it and it's so nasty, you have to hear it! I already started to ask! You know you want to hear it!"

EPP: "OK, fine, who?"

Big B: "OK, who would you rather have sex with, Rosie O'Donnell, or Grandpa?"

EPP: "OH MY GOD! I'm not answering that one!"

Big B: "Ha! Isn't that nasty! It's the nastiest one I've ever thought of! If you pick grandpa, it's gross because he's old, and well, he's grandpa, but you are at least getting to do it with a man. If you pick Rosie, that's gross too, AND you are playing your lesbian card....."

EPP: "Neither. I choose neither"

Big B: "Shut up, you know you have to choose."

EPP: "Fine. Rosie. But only because she's not grandpa."

Big B: "God, you would rather do it with a woman?"

EPP: "Yeah, geez, I guess I would."

Big B: *laughing his butt off* "OK, it's your turn"

EPP: "I am totally getting you back, that's so nasty, I am going to think of one that's going to make you throw up or something"

Big B: "Sweet. Hehe. Call me when you think of one. Later."

So see, this is where we were when Kevin entered the picture, and found out the hard way about the game. But Kevin has gotten really fantastic at thinking of horrifying nasty things for me to suggest my brother has to choose between. Kevin can't believe that my parents occasionally play, too. If they overhear the game, they laugh, and then they offer their choices, and occasionally suggest something ridiculously awful to choose between, too.

Either way, it always leaves everyone laughing. So wrong. Why is that so funny though? It always makes me laugh inside and at least smile when I think of some of the horrible things we have forced each other to choose between. Can't often remember the choices people made....but....the fun part is hearing what nasty things the other one can come up with, anyhow.

I need to call my brother, and see who he would rather see make out (or better yet--have sex! That'll really make him gag!) my mom and dad, or Kevin's mom and dad. Hehe.

I miss my family. A lot.

Midwife news

2006-09-01T08:38:00.000-05:00

Went to the midwife yesterday, everything is fine. I've gained 20 pounds, which isn't crazy. My blood pressure was 116/64, which is good. They did a group B strep test, which I don't have results for yet.

BUT.....

It got a little more exciting than all that.

During the group B strep test, they do an exam to see the angles or your uterus and if the baby's head is down (apparently they can feel it through the cervix), and some results said:

1. The baby's head is down. In fact, it's at the -1 position, which means it is inside the pelvis just about engaged in the birth canal.

2. My cervix is 50% effaced (it thins out and goes away before you give birth, they call that being effaced).

3. I am dilated 1 cm.

!!! Kevin I were very excited by all this, and the midwife seemed very surprised! I don't know how common all this is, I tried to ask, but the midwife just said "It's normal for some people". That doesn't really tell me much.

She did say that I could still go the four weeks to my due date (ok, 3 weeks, 4 days) but she doesn't think I will go that long.

!!!

She also said that while she was feeling his head, he kept moving it around as she touched it, like "What is that? Something's touching me! What's happening??" :) hee hee. Silly Pants.

If you want more details, you will have to look them up (about effacement and dilation and stuff) because unfortunately, I just told you everything I know.

:) Shouldn't be too long now....worst case scenario--5 weeks 4 days. They'll only let me go two weeks over.

Oh! And I made her guess the weight based on feeling him, and she told me she he isn't small, she thinks he's about 7 and a half pounds right now! Wouldn't that be something?

Did it work?

2006-08-31T05:58:00.000-05:00

I put a pregnant picture up for my profile...did it change?

36 weeks today--4 weeks to go (tomorrow will be 39 weeks, 6 days...)

2006-08-29T15:53:00.000-05:00

Surprise! A work baby shower?!?

2006-08-25T09:28:00.000-05:00

My coworkers threw me a surprise baby shower yesterday afternoon--it was really nice, and I was really surprised!

I surprised them too--because they told me there was a meeting upstairs, and it was NOW, and I was on the phone and had to finish up my phone call. I finished, and then sprinted upstairs to the conference room. I went up the back steps--and then I snuck in the back door for the meeting, because I was late and I didn't want everyone to know I came in late.

When I came in, there were a bunch of people talking and hanging out, and I was like "What the heck? I thought there was a meeting?" So I asked the guy next to me "What's this emergency meeting about??" He looked at me, and then said "uh, Surprise!" Then everyone turned and looked at us and said "Surprise!"

And I said, "Who's the surprise for??? I thought it was a meeting!"

And, as it turns out, it was a surprise for ME. But they were all surprised, because I snuck in the back door, and they were all watching the front door for me. Ooops. I thought I was late!

Here are some pics they took from the party of me opening some presents and being all surprised--I hope this tides some of you over til I get the courage to post some grotesque pregnant pictures.

(By the way, my last appointment was last thursday, and I had gained EIGHT POUNDS in two weeks. I was totally horrified, despite the fact that the midwife told me not to worry, and it was normal. Last night, we were at the birth center again for a class, and I 'cheated' and weighed myself there last night, hoping to avoid the shock and horror of my next appointment in a week. And I was DOWN 2 and a half pounds. I'm sorry, but all I can feel is thank God. Total weight gain: 17 pounds. Well, 16.5. We'll see how I make out next week--she said since I had spiked up, that I might go down a few, so, no worries!)

OKay, I have tried several times now to post all five pictures, but blogger will only allow me two, despite the fact tht it says that the picture will be posted when I choose 'done'.

Sorry guys. Only two. What am I doing wrong with the pictures? Why don't they show when I post them? I had this problem a while back, and never figured out the problem.

"Please, please, try to understand this before one of us dies!"

2006-08-23T15:52:00.000-05:00

That's what my boss's boss said to me in conversation today, when he was all flustered and confused about something that wasn't remotely our problem, and trying to tell me why he thought it was obvious that it IS our problem.

It's not though. Do we live in Europe? No. Do we ship things from Europe? No. Then not our problem. Our European colleagues--yes. Their problem. Not ours. Not even our business, really.

But he was getting frustrated because I failed to see how it was our problem. And thus, made the statement above.

Jerk.

BREAKING NEWS! HPV Linked to Cervical Cancer!!!

2006-08-21T08:25:00.000-05:00

This really bugs me. Have you all seen that commercial with the women that are finding out that cervical cancer can be caused by 'a virus called HPV'? The moms are like 'I'll have her checked for HPV before she goes back to school!' and all that stuff?

OK. I cannot begin to tell you how many levels this commercial bothers me on. For one thing, haven't we known for friggin' YEARS that HPV is linked to cervical cancer? I can't be the only one who knew that, they were talking about it in my women's studies class at Michigan, my grandma had cervical cancer and died, when I was 10 years old, and it was linked to HPV THEN. It was linked 10 years ago. WHY are they making a commercial about this and acting like it's a big surprise, or it's something that's been uncovered by new research or something??

And number two--HPV is not some new virus that's popped up causing cervical cancer in women--it's the Human Papillomavirus, otherwise known as genital warts. That's been around for years.

The third thing that bugs me about this--is that they fail to mention the most important thing (at least in my mind), and that is, you can't prevent HPV unless you don't have sex. Even if you use a condom, you can still get HPV. Instead of the mom saying to the daughter "I'm going to have your doctor check for HPV before you go back to school, because I love you" or whatever, mom should be saying "HPV is linked to cervical cancer, and that can kill you. HPV is a disease that there is no cure for, but will oftentimes go away on it's own. But instead, it could linger, and give you cancer, and you could die. If you don't have sex, you won't get it, but if you do, you might get it. Even if you use a condom. So be careful, and choose your sex partners carefully--make sure he's worth the risk." Something like that.

Because everyone knows HPV can lead to cervical cancer. To me, the scary part, is that you are at risk for getting it every time you have sex--even protected sex.

I guess it's good that they are telling people. Maybe they should make more commercials that tell you smoking can cause cancer, too. Maybe people don't know that yet, either.

No one told me when I took this job, that it would be on the 'front lines' of the war on crime!

2006-08-17T05:56:00.000-05:00

I am so not a morning person. As far as I am concerned, anytime before 7 may as well not exist. But I have an appointment with the midwife today, and Kevin wants to go, and he gets to work at 6:30. *sigh* Fine. So I come in with him sometimes. Getting out of work at 3 is super fun, but getting to work at 6:30 super sucks.

Early mornings are just wrong. Bad things happen in the morning, much like bad things that happen in the middle of the night. When you get down to it, 3 am, which was described in the Exorcism of Emily Rose as the witching hour, is not much different than say, 5:30 am. 5:30 am is just the time of day that all those rotten things that happen at 3 am get discovered and cleaned up. By the time I stroll into work between 8:30 and 9, well, it's pretty much daytime then, so, phew. Good.

But this morning, when we turned the corner to get to work, there was a tow truck stopped in the middle of the street. The driver was standing next to an old man laying on the ground by a building. I may not have noticed him laying there at all, and if I did notice him, upon first glance I would have driven past assuming he's just a homeless guy. There's a lot of those on the east coast.

Anyhow, when we turned the corner, good samaritan tow truck driver rushed over to our car, and I rolled down the window, and he said "This guy's hurt! I'm calling 911--what street are we on?"

Neither Kevin or I knew the actual street name (it was two down from the street we work on, but since there are a lot of one ways, you always have to take a round about way to get to work). A bunch more cars past us, the good samaritan talked to the 911 operator, and the guy just laid there, bloody and oblivious. And he was old. Lots of gray hair. And he appeared to be wearing an old fashioned suit. Kevin went to check what street it was, told the guy, and then said "OK, let's go".

I was torn. Part of me wanted to stay and help. Part of me knew I had to go to work. Part of me would prefer to stay and help than go to work. Part of me knew that if the guy was severely beaten or hurt or dead, there was no way I could handle that. I asked Kevin if he thought we should stay to help, and he said that he definitely couldn't, and there was no way that he thought I should.

Because a hysterical crying pregnant girl who doesn't even know the guy, is probably the last thing the ambulance workers need when they arrive, right?

So we went to work.

But I keep wondering if he's ok. And what the heck was he doing down here? Everyone knows that this place is a blatant f-ing ghetto. Why would some old guy--homeless or not--come down here? Maybe he has alzheimers and wandered away from his family, and came here, where some stupid punks beat the crap out of him for his aarp card? Nice. But that's the kind of stuff that happens here.

A few months ago, someone dumped a body outside a masonic temple right next to where this guy was. Some girl was raped and strangled and left dead in the middle of the night outside the masonic temple. They found her body of course, the next morning. That was the talk of work that day. Maybe it was the Illuminati! Aren't they the evil group associated with the masons?:) I read Angels & Demons.

See?? Mornings. Yuck.

Oh, and where I work, yuck, too.

God, please don't let that guy be dead. Or severely hurt. Hopefully he's just an alzheimers patient, who wandered off, got a nosebleed, and laid down to take a nap. And he's just hard to wake up. Yeah. Please let that be it.

Question

2006-08-15T14:17:00.000-05:00

I woke up this morning and decided I wanted to steam clean the carpet in the apartment, especially a spot that the rabbits have decided to, um, well, 'mark'.

So I bought a steam cleaner.

But Kevin is concerned that fumes from the cleaning solutions are unsafe for me beause I am pregnant. The bottles say no such thing.

Does anyone know if it's OK for me to steam clean the carpet while 34 weeks knocked up?

Just a quick question...

2006-08-08T09:18:00.000-05:00

Is it normal for me, at this point in my pregnancy, to be so stinkin' tired? And not always be able to sleep?

But even when I do sleep, to still be so tired?

adorable Ben's adorable baby sister

2006-08-01T15:26:00.000-05:00

Mom sent me pictures of the princess baby the other day, and she continues to be one of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen. As does Ben. Sheesh! My brother and his wife sure do make them ridiculously cute!

She is 10 months old. I wish I had a new picture of Ben to put up, too, but my mom only sent pics of the baby. I love those kids so much! Since neither of my parents had any sisters, and my dad had only two brothers that he wasn't very close with, the only aunts and uncles I really knew were great aunts and uncles. My brother and I weren't even super close growing up--we fought like all kids do I think. Maybe more, I don't know. But I never knew going in how much I was going to love my brother's children.

8 weeks, 4 days to go.....

2006-07-28T15:15:00.000-05:00

Doesn't sound very long, does it?

Things are changing. Work is getting more stressful, but I've only got a few more weeks to tough it out. I finished my technical writing class that my boss made me take last night. The teacher, who was a guy a year younger than me, and jealous that I went to Michigan while he went to Penn State (he never said that, but I could tell. People who attend other Big Ten universities usually seem quite jealous when they find out you went to Michigan) kept asking me why I was taking the class, because he thought my writing skills were fantastic and I could teach the class. But I think my boss wanted me to go, because he's British, and he spells things differently than they are spelled in America, and I think he was trying to tell me he thinks my American spelling is bad. Well, I'm actually a good speller, you live in America now, so get over it. But anyhow, the class was done with last night. I turned in my paper, and the grades are due Monday. It's a little disturbing that he has 30 papers to grade, each 20-25 pages, by Monday, but, alas, I don't make the rules. He kept telling me he's ripping my paper apart when he gets it and he can't wait, because he hasn't taken a single point off anything I've done so far. We'll see what happens. I probably will lose some points, because there are some parts that aren't that good, I could have worked harder on them to make them better, but I didn't care enough to try. If I'm going to lose points, that's where it's going to be. But, that was the theme of the entire semester--"I don't feel like doing this, so let me slap together a few paragraphs and pages and turn it in" and I never lost a point, so, we'll see what happens. I still wonder what he'll get, and if he's really going to 'rip it apart'. We'll see.

The other thing that's different, is the crying thing seems to have let up for the past couple weeks. Now I'm not saying I haven't cried at all in the past few weeks--let's not get crazy here- but I haven't cried every day for about the past month- maybe only 3 times a week or so. Not normal, but much more manageable than before. That's nice.

Eating and shortness of breath are becoming a problem sometimes. I find that I can feel extraordinarily hungry, go to IHOP, order some pancakes, and eat one. And feel full. And when I am nervous, and talking really fast, and in a hot room (Like I was last night giving my presentation to the class), I started feeling a little short of breath, which got better when I sat back down, by the air conditioner, and quit talking.

Sleeping is also a problem, as it's very uncomfortable and I have to pee a lot. But only 8 weeks 4 days left.

We are starting to speculate, just for fun, when he'll come. My mom is guessing September 28th. I am guessing October 6th. Kevin is guessing September 23rd.

Want to join in the fun? Take a guess, it'll be fun to see who's right at the end.

I went shopping at lunch today. They built a new wal-mart next to my work, so I decided to go there and check out the diaper situation. I have a wal-mart gift card from back home (I returned some newborn disposable diapers before I left, geez, I received so many newborn disposables) and had like $42 on there. My mom has been freaking out a little about the cloth diaper thing, because I haven't been able to find any 'plastic pants'. Admittedly, I haven't been looking that hard, because I kinda want to use the fancy-schmancy snappy-velcro-ey diaper covers of today, but my mom is convinced that those things won't work. So I started looking for some so that she would quit freaking out--and haven't been able to find any. Anywhere.

I did buy some from an ebay auction used, and relatively cheap. I say 'relatively' because they were friggin' USED, and I only paid a couple dollars a piece under full price for new. But I still saved, so, whatever. I've heard a lot of good things about this type (they are Bummis whisper wraps) and there was a lot of 28. So I got them. I don't know. I'll try them out.

But anyhow, at Wal-mart today, I decided to pick up some prefold cloth diapers with my gift card, and maybe some pins. And low and behold, next to the prefolds, there was some GERBER VINYL PANTS. Either super girly ones, or super masculine ones. I got the super masculine ones. And limited sized ,they only had 3-9 months and 12 months. Oh, and a 3 T. But I don't want to have to use diapers when he's 3, so, I didn't buy those. But no other sizes. I asked the girl who worked in the baby department about more, and she said they almost NEVER get more of those, because they sell almost NONE of them.

They were a pack of 6 for 2 bucks each. 4 bucks got me 12 pairs of vinyl pants.

*whew*. My mom can finally rest easy.

They were actually much nicer than I thought they were going to be. I thought they would be scratchy and rough and all that, but, they were sort of soft really, and they didn't seem like the rubber I imagined from my mom's description.

I called her when I left, and she was ridiculously relieved. She was like "Oh thank GOD! I was getting so nervous that you weren't going to be able to find them!" It seemed such a strong reaction. It was kinda funny.

Will I use them? I don't know. Will I use the ones I bought from ebay? I don't know. I'm going to have to see how these bad boys work out. Now, since my mom used the cloth diapers and 'plastic pants' for all of us, I don't really have any qualms about using them for the baby--I just thought the other things seemed nicer. But the other things also seem bulkier, so, we'll see how it goes. Thank God though, my mom isn't worried anymore. Like I needed to give my mom more things to be all upset about:).

***WARNING: Next part might be too gross for you, I don't know, consider yourself duly warned****

Had a weird dream last night. I dreamt that I was at my grandma and grandpa's house, with my grandma and my grandpa, with my mom and dad, and Kevin, and my grandpa's wife was there too. (I know, weird that his wife would be there with my grandma, but, whatever). I dreamt that I had gone to the bathroom only to discover that I was leaking pink colored amniotic fluid all over my white capri pants. I came out of the bathroom, and told them that I think something was wrong, because I think my water was breaking, but I was not even 32 weeks yet, so it was too soon. My grandma told me not to worry, that it was just because I had an incompetent cervix.

(Incidentally, a girl in my class told me last night that when she was pregnant, she was put on bedrest because she had an incompetent cervix, and was leaking amniotic fluid, and her son was born a month early).

I told my grandma that I thought an incompetent cervix was actually something to worry about, and I better call and tell my midwife. My mom agreed. Then Kevin suggested that maybe I would just have the baby at about 32 weeks. I told him it was way too early, and he told me that his newphew was born at 32 weeks, and is fine (which is true, she had a c-section at 32 weeks because of pre-eclampsia). I told him that I really didn't want to have the baby at 32 weeks anyhow, I wanted to wait until it was born.

Grandpa's wife suggested that I have my cervix sown shut then, because she heard that people do that now. Then she started washing dishes. Like a mountain of dishes.

My dad said that we had to leave, because we were late for church. So we started leaving the house to walk to a church, and Kevin's mom joined us while walking. Kevin told her I was in labor. I told her I wasn't in labor, I just had an incompetent cervix, and needed to have it sown closed. She told me I should just have the baby now instead. I told her it was way too early. Kevin mentioned again that his nephew was born at 32 weeks, and is fine. Kevin's mom said "No, he wasn't born at 32 weeks, he was born at 36 weeks." We both argued with her that it was actually 32 weeks, not 36 weeks, and while we argued, a man presumably also walking to church in front of us, wearing a ladies' turquoise hat, started waving his arms at a bird that was trying to land on his hat.

The bird had a friend, and the two birds (incidentally, a blue jay and a cardinal) stole the hat from the man's head, and carried it really high in the air with their beaks. I was commenting to Kevin on how totally freakin' crazy that was, when these two golden retrievers came running towards all of us (now a big huge crowd of people walking to church) and running through our legs and around us and getting their hair and slobber everywhere.

My mom shouted "No!" at the dogs, and they stopped in their tracks and looked at her, and wagged their tails. Then she told the dogs to "let it go", and one of them started heaving, and it threw up a baby wearing a clown halloween costume. The baby looked happy and unharmed though, like the whole charade had been good fun.

End of dream.

Uh, yeah.

And before I went to bed last night, I ate french fries from McDonald's because I had really had a taste for them all week, and some Tropical Punch sugar free Kool-aid, which I don't like, but seem to really have a craving for over the past few weeks.

Well, have a nice weekend everyone!

The Violent Dream

2006-07-24T13:33:00.000-05:00

Last night, I had a dream. I was in a dressing room at a store, and I was about to try on a skirt with a shirt and a jacket, when a man I didn't know just walked in my dressing room. I asked what he was doing there, and he didn't answer. He shut the door, and pushed the button on the handle to lock it. I said "Let me out", and he laughed and said "You aren't getting out of here".

So I lunged at him, kicked him in the balls, grabbed his head, and started smashing his head into the wall. Repeatedly. And kneeing him, and kicking him, and generally beating the living crap out of him until I saw blood, and gray brain matter. Then I went around him, opened the door of the dressing room, pulled him out and onto the floor, where I told someone to call the police, and then started pounding his already destroyed head into the ground.

And I was so scared. All I could feel was this almighty fear, that I had to protect myself.

My mom was there, and she said "What did he do?"

And I said "He wouldn't let me out of my dressing room, and I was really really afraid"

And she said "Well, you've done the right thing then"

Then I stopped pounding his head into the ground, and woke up.

Holy crap, that's pretty violent, what's wrong with me? I don't think of myself as a violent person, and I don't think other people see me that way either. What the? I can't seem to forget it today though.

Note to self: never do that.

2006-07-19T15:28:00.000-05:00

As far as I was concerned, the shower festivities were really starting the Friday morning before the shower. Mom, my Aunt Dee, and I (as well as whoever else wanted to partake of the fun) were getting together to make petite fours. For the shower. Now, if you've never made (or eaten) a petite four, let me tell you--FUN. Petite fours are these tiny little bite size cakes, and you make them in pans that are like mini tart pans. You flip them upside down, and then you make this delicious glaze that you pour like a waterfall over each one. It's really fun. Then you make a little flower on the top, with some little green leaves around it--and wa-la. We planned to make 12 dozen, but we were afraid it wouldn't be enough. We ended up making more, and we had enough. We made chocolate, white, and rainbow confetti. All were covered with white almond icing, and blue flowers. A delicacy!

But Friday morning didn't go as I had envisioned (me, mom, my aunt, smiling, laughing, spending our day chatting and decorating tiny bite sized cakes, while I occasionally videotaped so that the Pants can someday when his grandma and great aunt dee are old and dead how they worked to make his shower special). My mom asked me to run an errand for her, and go to the mall. So I did. And when I came home, something happened. I don't know what, but she was all pissed off. Ridiculously so. Moaning about how the house was a mess, aunt Dee was coming over before she could clean the house, and she hadn't showered yet, and she had more than 12 dozen petite fours to make and there were never going to be enough and she never has any help with anything and she's never going to get these pain in the ass petite fours done, and she wished no one was helping because she didn't want anyone to see her crazy messy house (which, by the way, is never really crazy messy...but whatever).

Immediately I feel guilty, because clearly the stress of having a shower for me and making petite fours is too much for her to handle, and she's mad about it. But that sucks, because I never asked for a shower, and I certainly never expected petite fours, because they are a lot of work. But I still feel guilty, because it's for me, and look how miserable she is.

Oh, and she has to call and give the number of people coming to the lady at the restaurant where the shower is taking place that morning, and she doesn't have a count yet, because Kevin's mom hasn't given her a count, and some people haven't RSVP'd, and she has no idea who's coming, or how many, and therefore she doesn't even know how many stinkin' petite fours to make.

Totally, not how I envisioned this in my head. Why are things never the way they appear in your head?

So we start making petite fours, her and I. She mixes them and puts them in the gazillion pans, and I get out the cooling racks and when they are baked, dump them gently onto a towel and set them up upside down style on the cooling racks, while she prepares more. Aunt Dee gets there, and we start decorating. She seems to be less crazy when Aunt Dee gets there, and I start thinking "OK, catastrophe avoided", but it's not quite because them Aunt Dee asks where my dad is, and mom says something like "Oh, probably outside avoiding me, because he knows if I see him I'll ask him to do something". Hmm.

So I get out the video camera, and say "Hey, look at all these petite fours, this is really cool, I want to get a little footage of Grandma and Great Aunt Dee working on Mr. Baby's baby shower" I turn it on, tell them to say hello, but my mom wigs out because she hasn't had a chance to do her hair, and hasn't brushed her teeth that day yet.

!?! So what? How many easter and christmas mornings do we have video of all of us in our pajamas, opening gifts, looking for easter baskets, obviously not dressed or teeth brushed---not to mention, who would know from a video that she hadn't yet brushed her teeth? So I felt pretty bad that she refused, because I really wanted some kind of nice memory immortalized. But she recently lost like 25 pounds, and since then, she only prefers it when people see her wearing glitter jeans and a rhinestone studded tank top, so, maybe that's part of it, I don't know. Either way, that kinda hurt. I felt like I had put up with a lot all morning, was being punished for having a kid so that she HAD to throw a baby shower--and the short video refusal was the end. Especially since the reasons behind the refusal were so unwarranted.

So making petite fours is no longer the fun, happy experience I used to have stored in my memory. Now it reminds me of the super crappy morning before my baby shower.

Aunt Dee left, and mom asked me to call the restaurant and tell them 55 people were coming. So I called, and the lady said we couldn't get in to set up until 11. Now I knew my mom was planning on being there at 10:30, and that the shower was starting at 11:30. So I asked the lady, if that was a change, because my mom was planning to arrive earlier than that. She said no, they can only open an hour early to let people in. !?! An hour early? They open at noon, and the shower starts at 11:30?? Yes, she verified that they open at noon.

That sounds pretty major, so I hung up, went in the kitchen and told my mom, "Hey, I don't know what can be done about this, but they just told me you can't get in until 11, and they open at noon! Doesn't the shower start at 11:30?" She was like, "What?? Why can't we get in until 11? Oh well." I said "More importantly, they said they open at noon! What about people who will get there at 11:30, when it's supposed to start? Are they going to have to wait outside, or do you think they will let them in, since we will be in there decorating anyhow?" Then mom freaks out and starts yelling at me that she just cant take this anymore, runs to her bedroom and slams the door.

So what's a daughter who's baby shower is apparently ruining her mother's life to do? I went into the other room to cry for a while, of course. My mom comes in and asks why I'm crying, she's the one who's having the awful day--and I tell her that I'm obviously upset about the petite fours, that it was supposed to be fun, but wasn't, and that I felt bad that she was throwing me this shower and making the petite fours when she so unquestionably didn't want to. And that I was sorry about the questions about the shower and them letting people in, I just didn't know if whoever I got on the phone that time was telling me the same stuff that they had told her, and I didn't want her to get there tomorrow and be all surprised that things weren't as planned.

She told me that she wasn't at all upset about the shower or the petite fours, she obviously wanted to do those things, or else she wouldn't have. Then she told me that while I had run to the mall to get her a watch battery, my dad, who's been laid off from work, was called back to work for the next week, and she was mad about it because apparently they had some agreement that when his cell phone rang, he wouldn't answer it or something so as not to get called back to work, because they were in the middle of remodelling the kitchen, living room, bedrooms, dining room, and formal living room, and had been working their butts off on it but weren't done, and she wanted him around to finish. She thought he had accepted current job to get away from the remodelling, but mostly to get away from her.

Because she has suddenly decided that he doesn't want to be with her, and was NOT sincere when they renewed their vows in December. All because he was called back to work, and accepted.

By the way, DID NOT HELP when I got confused and said "But you knew he would go back to work eventually".

Anyhow, spent the rest of the day listening to how she wanted to fix up the house, and sell it when she divorced my dad, and she would go to live in the cottage (they are remodelling that too right now). Listened to it for hours. Then I started making notes to self--

Note to self: If Kevin and I are having problems, don't tell the kids about it--I know from experience that they don't want to hear it.

Note to self: If I am unhappy with Kevin, and decide I think I want to kill myself, don't threaten the kids with it when you are unhappy. They don't want you to kill yourself, and there's nothing they can do to make your marriage better, there's nothing they can do to help--you'll just upset them.

Note to self: Remember, you can't be perfect all the time, but on the special days, like graduation days, wedding days, the day you get to watch your daughter try on her wedding dress for the first time---preparation day for the baby shower for your grandchild--at least try to suck it up, and leave them with some happy memories of that day. Don't threaten to not go to their wedding because you are mad at Kevin.

Shower prep, not too fun.

The next morning, we went to the restaurant where the shower was--my favorite chinese restaurant. Yes! We got there at 11, we started setting out little decorations and snacks. My mom brought gummi bears, and Kevin's sister in law Allison brought a m&m, mint, and nut mix thing. Grandpa's wife came, and her and I were busy putting three petite fours at each place setting. People started arriving right away, and about 55 people came. There was no extra room. When the restaurant opened at noon, we started eating. They have this great buffet. Now when you think of chinese buffets, at least I usually think of those weird ones where they serve huge amounts of chinese food, and then french fries and chicken nuggest and pizza and soft serve ice cream. But at this place, they have a small buffet, with like 6 items, but they are all chinese food items, and they are all very delicious. And they had egg rolls, which I love. I are really quick, said hello to a few people. A couple of my mom's cousins were being all crazy, saying things like "Don't you just love being pregnant? I loved being pregnant!"

Actually, no. Thanks for making me feel like a failure as a parent already. Honestly, I don't love being pregnant. I am fantastically excited to have a baby, and I LOVE feeling him move, and I LOVE hearing his heartbeat, and I love seeing him in ultrasounds--but honestly, I feel huge, I pee a lot, when those wonderful moments of him moving a lot aren't happening, I worry about whether or not he's ok. I worry about whether or not I'm going to do something awful to hurt him--either in the womb or when he comes out--unintentionally, of course. But will I have too sharp a tongue, and hurt his feelings someday when I'm not being very careful? Will I let him go away to boy scout camp where he'll be molested by some creepy pervert? Will he resent me because his friends all have cell phones, and I won't let him? What if he gets leukemia? What if he gets drafted someday, and ends up in some freakin' third world country, and gets hurt, or worse yet, killed? Or sees things that scar him for life, and he's never OK again?

And you know what--I miss not being huge. I miss things I used to be able to do. I miss drinking diet coke, even though I chose to give it up. Sometimes, I would really like a margarita. Sometimes, when we go out, I wouldn't even mind a beer. And I can't go to step class anymore, which I miss a lot, because the midwives say it's too high impact. And I can't roller blade, in case I fall down, and I can't roller skate, also in case I fall down. I can't jog--they say that's too high impact too. Of course I'll be able to do all those things again, but, during my pregnancy, I can't. So while I am really excited to have this baby, and am already even planning to do this one ore time for another one in a year or so--no. I can't say seriously that I LOVE being pregnant. I LOVE the anticipation of having a sweet little baby--I love thinking about all the wonderful and happy things I am looking forward to. But if I could do it without being gigantic (it's funny--after this, I think I will never consider myself fat again), and without having to change my activities, then I would probably love it. But man, a margarita and a step class sounds like a few really sweet deals right now. And God, I really want to stop crying at everything.

So after I talked to people for a few minutes, I started opening gifts. I received tons of really nice gifts. Lots and lots of blankets! Beautiful handmade blankets--look how much he's loved already:). I got some things from my registry, but most people either made blankets or bought sleepers size 0-3 months. I got a lot of diapers. Disposable ones. I planned to use cloth diapers, but I received so many diapers, maybe I will use both. I got three diaper bags--one was a gorgeous Vera Bradley green and blue baby bag, from my friend Laura. I love it:). It's beautiful. We decided to keep all the diaper bags, because my mom says they wear out. But I will probably want to save my Vera Bradley one for special occasions, because it's so pretty!:)

My friend Jessica made me a baby blanket too, and it's beautiful! She and her husband also got us a jogging stroller. Yes! So I can get back into jogging! I thought I was going to cry though when the midwife told me the other day that I can resume those normal activities after about 6 weeks AFTER I have the baby. I really thought it was immediate. Bummer.

Kevin's mom gave me Kevin's baptism outfit and blanket. Kevin's sister made me a fleece baby blanket with outer space martians on it. It's really cute:). She got me other stuff too, like diapers and stuff.

Now Aunt Dee, was a knitting fool! Er, crocheting fool, maybe. I don't know. But I will have to take some pictures of the things she made, because they were gorgeous. She made me a white blanket with a scalloped edge for the baptism. A blue zig-zag blanket because he's a boy. A pastel multicolored blanket that has these little--hmmm, not a knitter, don't know how to describe it- raised circular bumps in a pattern. Very beautiful. Will get some pics for you. She also made him a mint green cardigan, with matching booties and bonnet with a brim, that tie with green ribbons! And the cardigan has little white bunny shaped buttons! And the bonnet has the little bunny buttons sewn onto the edges of the ribbon for decoration! Soooo cute! That made me cry a little. And she also bought me these spoons and forks, with bunnies on the handles. A little spoon for when he's a baby, then some for when he's a toddler, and then a fork and spoon for when he's just a little kid. So adorable! I loved them!

Kevin's brother got him a piggy bank that had sports stuff all over it, and put some change in it to get him started. That was really cute:) Kevin's god daughter got some little high top sneakers with basketballs on them:).

My mom and Kevin's mom got us a bassinette, (I don't know if I spelled that right), a dresser, and a changing table.

We got tons and tons of stuff. Tons. LOTS of sleepers. Not many actual outfits--I think just 3- one from Ben and Sophia for their cousin, and it is navy and green with cars on it. Another one has ducks, and I can't remember what the other has on it (or if there's another, maybe just two, I don't know for sure). We got 5 bibs I think. We got a lot of books, too.

Kevin taped it, and Tiffany took pictures.

While I opened gifts, my mom handed out prizes as she drew people's names. She made stained glass stuff to give away, and people loved it.

Now, after the shower, Kevin's mom was having a family christmas in July party, and my mom and dad were going to the casino with grandpa and his wife, because it was his birthday, so I knew I had to hurry with the gifts. I did. But when I was done--people literally just got up and left--I mean it was like they formed a line, and all walked out. Didn't get a chance to talk to lots of people. My friends Jessica, Laura, and Vicky waited until everyone left and then talked to me for a couple minutes, and my grandpa had gotten there and him and Kevin loaded all the stuff into the Yukon. Grandpa was in a good mood, and teased me and said there was no room in the Yukon for all the stuff, and we would have to leave some of it at the restaurant. Of course I shook my fist at him, and told him he better find a way to make it fit, and he laughed. I had to pee, and when I came back from peeing, everyone was gone except Kevin and the lady I used to baby sit for, who we were giving a ride home to. I think my mom and dad were still there to help her into the car (she's ill and not doing well). Yes, they were there too--but then, we all left. Dropped off Vikki, Kevin unloaded all the gifts into my parents' formal living room, my little brother Jason got home from work and checked out the goods and said good bye because he was leaving for a paintball tournament and wouldn't see us before we left, and then we went to Kevin's mom's house for the christmas party in July. Which we were an hour and a half late to.

Whew! And that, was the shower. It wasn't very exciting, I hope you weren't bored. If you were bored, don't tell me, because it might make me cry. Just remember, I'm only going to have one of these in my entire life. You only have to hear about it once.

That even occured to me while I watched Kevin unloading gifts--this is it. It's all done for me. I guess I am officially a grown up. I'm married, I had the big wedding shower, I had the huge wedding. And now, the next step--I had the baby shower, and in a few short weeks, I'm having the baby. No more firsts for me, huh? I finished all of my firsts.

Before the trip home, a little e-mail humiliation...

2006-07-14T16:01:00.000-05:00

There's this guy that works in our medical department. Or used to at least, his last day was the day we left for Michigan, because he got a job somewhere else. Anyhow, this guy was like in his 50's, very nice, but in a creepy way, if you know what I mean. Let me explain a little further:

When I first got here, he was nice, professional, did my physical, and I had no reason to not let him at the time. Then, I got on this kick where I was trying to lose weight, but didn't want to look at the scale. I'm sure many of you ladies out there know what that's like. So I decided that the best way to do this, was to stand on a scale backwards, and have someone else read it and write it down and track my progress, but never tell me what the number was. Just if I was up or down, and sometimes if the modd struck me, by how much. The medical guy, well, since he was right here on site, and he's a medical professional and knew how much I weighed anyhow, seemed like the perfect candidate. So I asked him if he minded me stopping in once a month for my stand on the scale backwards weigh in, and he told me no problem. He would track it in my chart.

Now that I've laid the groundwork, let me tell you what a bad bad idea that was.

So everytime I went there, he would weigh me, write it down, not tell me, but then tell me how awesome I looked and that he didn't even think I needed to lose any weight. Nice. Ok. Then he started telling me how hot I was. Inappropriate, but maybe he's just trying to build my self esteem because he knows I am obviously self conscious of my weight, if I don't even want to know what it is. Then he tells me one day, while weighing me, that I smell really really good. But he says it kinda creepy. I'm starting to think it's too far, and I quit making any small talk with him, and make sure that any small talk involves talking about my fiancee (at the time), Kevin.

Unfortunately, this curbs nothing, it only causes him to start telling me how I should reconsider marrying Kevin, basically because he wants to date me. Whatever. Like I'm interested in dating a guy older than my own father. So I quit going over there for my backwards weight loss plan. Which was a shame, because I had dropped like 7 pounds by then, which was pretty nice.

Of course, this doesn't stop me from seeing him occasionally, because I still have to have physicals and drug tests, and he makes a few more comments, one saying that he's going on vacation, and "Oh God, do I ever wish I could take you with me, we would have a great time together". Yuck. Whatever. I try to totally avoid now.

So a couple weeks ago, he sends a site wide e-mail saying that he's leaving for another job.

Then, the day before he leaves, he sends another one reminding us that the next day is his last day. Seems kinda funny. I talk to Kevin, and mention that seems funny that he sent two notices, did he forget he sent the first one? Kevin says "He's probably sending it out again because he didn't get the reaction that he was hoping for before he left."

Awww. That's sad. Poor guy. Not very many people are acknowledging his leaving? That's really sad. I mean ok, so he said a few icky things, but I didn't want him to have hurt feelings. I felt kinda bad for him, and I thought "What's the harm in wishing him well?" This is where my poor judgement comes into play. I sent him an e-mail that said good bye, and good luck at your new job. That was all it said. He wrote back and said you are welcome, I'm happy to have served you. Hmm. Weird. I never thanked him. So I write again--yes, thanks for all your help. Enjoy your new position! He wrote back something much longer this time, that ended with his pager number and a comment that "If only I was a few years younger and you weren't married....mmmmmm.....well, just in case you need me, here's my pager number."

Ha! Creepy again. See what I get for being nice? You must be freakin' joking. Oh well, it's ok, it's actually pretty funny, right? And now that he's leaving, I can laugh about it maybe tell a few people and mabe they can laugh too. Here I am this obese girl trying to lose weight, and am constantly getting hit on. Ha! So I was talking to a guy from another group that afternoon, and told him about the e-mail. He was like man, I always thought that guy was gay. I was like yeah, I heard that, but well, seems like he might not be. So my friend says "I could use a good laugh, can you send it to me?"

Sure. I go back to my computer, and instead of hitting FORWARD, I hit REPLY. But don't notice yet. Then I type in the letter "So after all the 'you smell so good', 'don't marry Kevin', and 'come on vacation with me' comments, I get this...."

Send.

I IMMEDIATELY realized that it was weird that I didn't have to type in the guy's e-mail address--oh crap, what did I do--I REPLIED??????? Sh&t!!!!

My heart started pumping like crazy, I felt a cold sweat, and I actually saw spots. My fingers flew over the keyboard, frantically trying to guess where that Micrsoft 'recall' function is. I find it, I try to recall it, and nothing happens. I try to recall again. Then I freak out, walk away, tell my friend in my group (I don't remember what I've called him in the past, let's call him Scott) that I've done the most horrible thing in the world. He appropriately looks horrified, gasps, and accompanies me back to my computer to see what happened. When we get there--a little note says recall successful. Then one comes in that says recall failed--what the??? Scott told me that's because I tried to recall it twice. We e-mail each other back and forth a few times just to see how that recall function works, you know, make sure it actually really works. Scott reads the letter I sent, and tells me he doesn't think it is that bad, worst case scenario the guy will think I am hitting on him, if the recall didn't work, and he actually saw it. Phew! I would totally rather him think I was coming on to him than to mortify him in some way. I mean ok, he was a little creepy, and wholly inappropriate, but that doesn't mean I want to make him feel like total crap.

I've learned my lesson. No more forwarding e-mails that are 'delicate'. I still don't know for sure if he was able to see it. If he did, he never said anything, and now he doesn't work here.

God it was awful though. My mom got a huge laugh out of it. So did Kevin, who of course, thought the guy deserved to feel like crap because he hated the fact that the guy was always making those comments to me. In fact, I quit telling Kevin about it. At first I told him because I thought it was kinda funny, but Kevin never saw any humor in it, so, I quit telling him. So he thought this was awesome, and I think was secretly hoping the guy got the letter.

I'm not hoping that though. I hope the recall worked.

Sareet is a genius!

2006-07-13T14:19:00.000-05:00

Sareet helped me get my blog back, with the suggestion that I login and republish. Never thought of that. Hmm. And it worked! Here I am!

I will post soon about the baby shower. It was nice. I have tons of blankets and sleepers. Only cried a little. Ate delicious chinese food and petite fours.

Thanks Sareet!!

Am I back??

2006-07-13T14:16:00.000-05:00

What happened? Where did I go? The Bermuda Triangle of cyberspace?

Ode to Dylan

2006-07-11T12:17:00.000-05:00

My friend Jessica was at the baby shower, and she brought me a special gift--a few days before, she had been at a 4th of july festival where she met Dylan McKay (also goes by Luke Perry, I believe, but in my heart he'll always be Dylan).

She got his autograph for me--because she knew how much I loved to watch 90210 when I was younger. And still, if they ever brought back the re-runs.

Thank you, Dylan, for the autograph! I really appreciated it! And by the way, I forgive you for choosing Kelly over Brenda back in high school. And I'm glad you were able to save your little sister from the bad people in Mexico. And I'm really sorry about the death of your wife, Antonia. But, Valerie and Gina? What were you thinking! Thank God it looked like you were getting back with Kelly possibly at the show's finale, where Donna finally married David.

*sigh*

But I forgive you for not sticking it out with Brenda. You two were so cute together:)

Adios, amigas! (-os?)

2006-06-30T05:30:00.000-05:00

Yes, it is 6:28 am, and I am up, showered, dressed, and at work for nearly 15 minutes already. We are leaving for Michigan today for a nice long vacation (well, not that long-only like 10 days, and it's a 12 and a half hour drive while NOT pregnant, so...we'll see how it goes). Baby shower is July 8th. I will probably NOT be posting while on vacation, because well, it's tough enough just to see everyone when we go home. So. I will post when I am back.

Just wanted to let you know, in case you didn't, so you wouldn't be concerned when you saw nothing for days and days and days....

I'll miss you! Think clean rest stop bathroom thoughts for me!

Does Everyone Hate the TV that I love?

2006-06-29T15:17:00.000-05:00

What's up with Television networks never bringing back shows, or cancelling them, or something, that I enjoy? Do I just like crappy TV that everyone else hates? Here's the list:

1. Married to the Kelly's

I don't remember what network it was on, but about a year ago, on Friday nights, I liked to watch Married to the Kelly's. I liked to watch it about 6 times, because that's about how many times it was on before they pulled the plug. The skater guy from Clueless was the main character, which was what attracted me ("Hey, what's this show? Isn't that the guy from Clueless? Oh! It is!!!") A lighthearted little comedy about a tight knit family, and the boy that marries one of the girls. Cute. I liked it. Was corny, was funny, the family loved each other immensely. The creepy little brother had a girlfriend, and I was waiting to see what happened, and then one night they were showing an episode of Home Alone or something, and then--it never came back. Kelly family? Where are you?

2. Book of Daniel

Protestant minister, played by Aidan Quinn, who I love, is high on pain killers and talks to Jesus. Literally, Jesus is a character who shows up. This dude is awesome though--his wife seems to have a stick up her butt like a flagpole, one kid is gay, one kid is adopted and a little mischevious, and the daughter sells drugs and draws anime. And they all love each other, but they are all screwed up. There's an affair too, between some clergy woman at church and another pastor, who's married, but his wife is very ill with alzheimer's. Touching. Sweet. Not a perfect family, which made me love them. Three episodes later.....and they never came back. What happened?

3. American Dreams

Ah, my favorite. You've all heard me talk about this before, I think. American Dreams, I love you, and I want you to come back. Irish catholic family battles the 60's. Older brother goes to Nam. Daughter dances on American Bandstand. Mom doesn't want to get knocked up again, she goes on the pill. Older brother's pregnant fiance comes to live with them. The kids grow up. I got 3 seasons on this one, and at the end of last season (which aired over a year ago), Meg Pryor was hopping on the back of a motorcycle to go CA with her rebel boyfriend to escape the draft with a priest her mom found. Jack tells Meg, "You leave now, don't you ever come back". We don't know if Meg's bf is giving her a ride on his bike back to her house, or if they are taking off for CA--and the next season, never happened. We don't know. Us loyal viewers are left with a tearful good bye between Meg Pryor and Roxanne Bojarski, with scenes panning to the Pryor living room where Helen, Jack, Patti, little "Thrill", JJ, Beth, and Johnny are all pretending to watch TV, while they are really anxiously waiting to see if Meg will walk in the door. That's it, that's where it ended. What a terrible ending! I want to know what happened! Does Meg come home? Does Patti win the campbell's tomato soup scholarship? Does Roxanne marry Luke? Do Beth and JJ buy a house? Does 'Thrill" win his battle with polio? And when are seasons 2 and 3 coming out on DVD?? It's been years, NBC. Everyone has their copies of Friends seasons 1 through a trillion, can't we get a DVD set for American Dreams, seasons 2 and 3? And 4? Can you at least make a #4 available on DVD so we can see what happens??? It's been over a year, I've been so patient. When do I get to see the end?? The closest I get is when a character from American Dreams plays a different character on L&O SVU, which, is not really the same. Still entertaining, but, just having the actor play a different role on a different show doesn't help that much (notice how I said not that much. Sad, isn't it?)

I've done my part though. Whenever something comes out, and it's on NBC, and it's involving JJ Pryor playing another character, like when he was on the show Reunion (I think that was NBC...) I make sure to NOT tune in, trying to force their hand into putting the Pryors back together for more American Dreams. Unfortunately, NBC has not yet noticed my partial boycott of their shows that feature AD actors but are not AD. At least, they haven't acknowledged my boycott.

Sareet, you live in LA, close to H-wood, can't you see if you can pull some strings? I would really appreciate it.

Why do they cancel my shows? Are my TV likes and dislikes that awful? I liked Friends, and it was on forever. I liked the X-files, and I like L&O-- still on.

But I like Desperate Housewives, so it should be scared, because with my track record--it's going to go buh-bye. And I'm really liking this America's Got Talent. I like the judges, they let almost everyone through, and they do way more stuff than just sing. In fact, I get annoyed when people come on there and sing--go on American Idol, freak! This show is for people who train their dogs to run over the backs and through their legs, or tall men dressed like creep angels to balances swords in their mouths. But I am sure, that since I am enjoying it, it will be cancelled soon.

Total Meltdown--EPP style

2006-06-26T14:00:00.000-05:00

Went to the midwife's office for a check up Thursday. I was pretty excited about it, because since I've been feeling the baby move, I have made it the entire month between visits without being insane, so I'm thinking I'm doing pretty f-ing good.

On Thursday, I was 26 weeks and 2 days. They bring out this tape measure thing, and measure my gut. Then she tells me that she's measuring me at 32.5 weeks, which is way too large for how far along I am.

I am like oh. No big deal--in case you haven't noticed, I'm pretty fat. You could have laid me on this table before I ever got knocked up, measured my gut with a tape measure, and you would have had me at 10 weeks or so. That doesn't seem a real accurate way to measure me, since I am overweight, and carry the bulk of that extra weight in my abdomen. Chances are, you are measuring adipose.

She says well, maybe, she guesses, but, she's going to send me for some tests, like an early gestational diabetes test, and an ultra sound, just to check.

I was like well ok, but I am quite sure of my due date, but of course, watching the baby squirm around a while longer in an u/s is going to be fun.

She said well, that way we can see if you have too much amniotic fluid, or if there is some kind of abnormality.

Hmm. OK.

Then she said, as a matter of fact, why don't we do these tests tomorrow? Can you do them tomorrow? If there is a problem like too much amniotic fluid or an abnormality, we would have to transfer your care to a specialist.

Yeah, ok, I can do them tomorrow. Geez. Seems to me like she's overreacting a bit to a little extra flab, but, well, she said the word abnormality, and I wonder what that can mean, you know?

But, my total weight gain is 7 pounds, which is great, and my blood pressure is 116/70, which is also great, and the baby's heartbeat was 144, which also sounds great.

But dude, she said abnormality. And she wants me to have the tests tomorrow, not sometime in the next week or so--tomorrow. She probably wouldn't be concerned if she didn't think there was something wrong, right? And if everything was probably OK, she wouldn't be concerned about be having the tests tomorrow. And specialist? that sounds like something's wrong....

Thus, the meltdown begins.

I call my mom, nonchalantly, and she says well, everyone in our family has big babies, you're probably just going to have a big baby. Plus, we're big people--you can't expect to have average fundal height measurements, can you?

Actually mom, I totally expect to have normal everything. But I can accept a big baby--after all, big babies are cute.

But things are still not OK in my brain.

I remain calm through dinner, and go to class. On my way to class, I call Melissa, and leave her a message, asking what the heck is going on, tell her what the midwife says, and ask her to tell me it's all good.

I get a break during class, and google things like excessive amniotic fluid. I get articles about babies born without jaws and can't swallow, or babies born without kidneys, and can't process the amniotic fluid, so it builds up, no stomachs, no bladders, horrible deformities....

So I call Melissa on another break, because now I'm freaking out. She's not available, but she texted me back saying she's in a meeting, but not to worry, it's all good.

Thanks Melissa, it's awesome knowing someone who works in this field.

I go home, call Kevin on my way to burst into tears and cry about what I looked up on the internet.

Then, I lay awake all night thinking that this is it, the baby doesn't have kidneys or something, because I ate subway and exposed myself to listeria bacteria or something. Or maybe it was that beer I drank at the very beginning of my pregnancy, before I knew I was pregnant. Either way, I obviously f-ed up my perfect little baby.

The meltdown continued the next morning, when I went to the lab for a glucose tolerance test instead of to work. Then I went to work, shipped a few samples to customers, and cried about how I thought my baby would probably not live.

I went to the ultra sound, and things looked up. A lot. The tech was extremely nice, even nicer than the last one, and had been doing u/s on pregnant ladies for about 15 years. Sweet, someone with a lot of experience. She told me that I am carrying a healthy 28 week old male fetus.

I pointed out that I was 26 weeks, not 28.

She pointed out that according to the measurements of the baby, he was 28. She said he could be a 26 week one, but if he was, he was on the extremely high side of normal size. Very big.

But perfect! No problems! Amniotic fluid was perfect, bladder, kidneys, stomach--all perfect. We got a really nice shot of his junk, and he's definitely a BOY. Very cooperative this time. Ha! It was so funny. She said that he weighed 2 pounds and 9 ounces.

!!!

That's a big boy! Especially since I have about 13 weeks to go....he's just going to get bigger!

My relief is intense. I don't know the results of the GTT yet, but, if it's bad, at least it's something wrong with me, not with him. He's perfect!

Oh! And he has gigantic feet. The tech took a picture of his foot, because it was so big, and so perfect. He takes after his mom:)

Now, since I started this post yesterday, there has been updates--I heard from the midwife, and everything is fine!!!

Woohoo!

I just measure big. No big deal.

1. The u/s showed that he's perfect, and they are not changing my due date, because due dates calculated from dates of last menstrual period are more accurate than due dates from u/s.

2. He's probably going to be between 8 and 9 pounds. He's in the 75th percentile for his size at his age.

3. *drumroll please* I DO NOT have gestational diabetes! Woohoo!! My blood sugar was 116, and anything under 140 is considered great. Thank goodness!

for my pal, chunky monkey--I feel the need to tell you, that I feel a little guilty that I don't have it, and you do. Because there is no reason that I should not have it while you do, you eat well, you exercise, you do all the right things--and genetically, with a type 1 brother, and my dad being a type 2, I don't know how I dodged that bullet. Seems weird. But part of me feels sorry that we don't have it together. Of course, another part of me is damn thankful that I don't have it. Somehow, I dodged the bullet. I'm overweight, and have always been, I have polycystic ovarian syndrome, and a family history--but I'm in the clear. Wow. I'm stunned. I asked her if she was sure, and offered to repeat the test, and she told me I was crazy and I was fine and do not have to repeat the test.

4. My hematocrit is 12 (needs to be over 10), and my iron is 35 (needs to be over 30). Sweet.

No problems! Thank God.

Meltdown NOT averted, but, it's over now. Whew!

Three big sighs of relief (me, Kevin, and Mr. Pants, who is finding out that the saying "Momma ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy", is just a tad bit too true.)

From Grandpa, to Mom, to Dad, and back to Mom....memoirs of labor and delivery through the ages

2006-06-20T08:34:00.000-05:00

Last night, on the phone with Grandpa:

EPP: Do you remember when mom was born?

GPA: Your mom? Oh yes.

EPP: Wasn't it the most exciting thing to ever happen to you?

GPA: Oh yes, The most exciting thing to ever happen to me, yes it was.

EPP: Do you remember when Grandma was in labor?

GPA: Yes.

EPP: Was she in labor for a long time? How long did it take for mom to be born?

GPA: Oh geez.....forever. It took a really really long time. We went to the hospital a few days before Christmas, she was born on Christmas, and then we came home a few days later.

EPP: Grandma was in labor for a few days???

GPA: Yes. Maybe 40 hours. No, maybe 24 or 27 hours. Something like that. That's when she found out she had muscular dystrophy.

EPP: Oh my god. She was in labor for that long??? Jesus. You know, I was asking because I've been reading some things that suggest that labor is hereditary, and that my labor will most likely be like my mom's and grandma's. That's why I was asking. Hmm, maybe her labor and delivery took so long because she had muscular dystrophy?

GPA: Yeah. It did. That's why it took so long. Because of that.

EPP: Oh. That really sucks.

GPA: It was a really long time before your mom was born.

This morning, on the phone with my mom:

EPP: I talked to grandpa last night. He told me about when Grandma had you.

MOM: Oh really? What did he say about it.

EPP: He told me how grandma was in labor for like 24-27 hours. At first he couldn't remember, and he told me she was in labor for like 40 hours, but then he remembered that it was more like 24-27.

MOM: 24-27 hours?

EPP: Yeah. You know, it took longer because of the muscular dystrophy. She said that she went to the hospital a few days before Christmas, and then came out a few days later, and that she obviously had you Christmas morning.

MOM: Oh. That's what he told you??

EPP: Yeah.

MOM: Do you want to hear the real story?

EPP: That's not the real story??

MOM: Um, no.

EPP: Well yeah I want to hear the real story!

MOM: OK, on Christmas eve night, they were out in the driveway putting presents in the trunk of the car, because they were heading to great grandma and grandpa's to have a drink and open some presents. While they were standing in the driveway, putting the presents in, Grandma's water broke. They went to the hospital. Between 11 and midnight, she started having contractions, and I was born at 5am.

EPP: What?? That's totally different than what grandpa told me!

MOM: He doesn't remember. Grandma told me the story several times. Men just don't remember.

EPP: But grandpa said it took longer because of the muscular dystrophy.

MOM: No, it didn't. They did find out after I was born that she had muscular dystrophy, but only because the nurses noticed she was having trouble getting out of bed.

EPP: Oh my god, your story sounds SO MUCH BETTER than grandpa's.

MOM: I'm telling you, men just don't remember. They remember for a few days, and then they remember but it starts to get fuzzy after a few weeks, but they just forget. Kevin might remember more, because he seems really involved--although your dad was really involved, why don't you call him and ask him how long I was in labor for the three of you? You know, don't you?

EPP: I've heard stories, I can't remember.

MOM: I was in labor for you for 8 hours, my water broke two hours before my contractions started. For your brother, C, my water broke and my contractions strated immediately, and I had him ijn 4 hours. For brother J, I was two weeks late. The doctor told me that if I didn't go into labor overnight, to meet him at the hospital the next morning. I met him there at 7:30, he broke my water, I started having contractions immediately, and he was born four hours later. So of the three of you, they were 8 hours, 4 hours, and 4 hours. And grandma was the same.

EPP: That sounds so much better that what grandpa told me.

MOM: It's the truth. Genetically, there is no reason for you to have a long one. Grandma had an easy labor and delivery as well. Men just can't remember. Call your dad, and ask him how long I was in labor for you guys. Some women's water doesn't break. Although, if it really does have something to do with genetics, then you should watch for that, because grandma's water broke, and so did mine, all before we had any contractions. Yours might too.

Later this morning, on the phone with my dad,

EPP: Hey dad, do you know how long mom was in labor when she had us?

DAD: (irritated) Why are you asking me this? I don't know.

EPP: Well, I've been reading some things that say ease of labor has a hereditary component.

DAD: I've never heard that before, I think that's a lie.

EPP: Well, I just wondered if you knew.

DAD: Well, it doesn't matter, because there's nothing you can do to control it.

EPP: Yeah, I know that. I guess it would just make me feel better to know that mom wasn't in labor for days or anything stupid like that, because then I can get myself all psyched up about it not being so long and awful.

DAD: I don't remember exactly how long your mom was in labor for you guys, but oh, it WAS long and awful. She was in labor for a really really long time.

EPP: Really?? A really long time?

DAD: Yeah. I don't know exactly how long, but a super long time, and it was a lot of painful hard work. She was in labor a lot longer than she wanted to be, I can remember that. She was in labor a lot longer than I wanted her to be, too, because I was really excited for you guys to be born.

EPP: That sucks.

DAD: Yeah, it sucks, and there's nothing you can do to control it, so, you're just going to have to suck it up, and accept the fact that it's going to be long and tough. But it'll be worth it. It was worth it for the three of you!

After hanging up from Dad, and back on the phone to mom,

EPP: He didn't remember. He had no idea.

MOM: I told you. What did he say?

EPP: First, he got irritated.

MOM: You should have told him you were testing him. He was just irritated because he can't remember.

EPP: Then he told me you were in labor for a very very long time, and it was awful and painful.

MOM: !! That's not true! See! I told you he had no idea!

EPP: He said he didn't know for sure, but he knew it was a long time, and that you were definitely in labor a lot longer than you wanted to be.

MOM: See! See! Men just don't remember these things! I told you he'd have no idea! Kevin will be the same way. They just forget. Moms never forget though.

Am I some sort of abusive wife?

2006-06-19T11:42:00.000-05:00

I just had lunch in our lunch room upstairs. There was no one especially scary up there, and inf act most of the people I like very much.

We were talking about airports and luggage and weight requirements. One person mentioned how they lowered the weight limits, and he and his wife had to pay a lot of money to get their things home for Christmas. I mentioned that we also had more weight than was acceptable, but we rearranged some things and carried some more on as carry on items.

I had been shopping with my mom, and bought these cute three bunnies that were made of fiberglass. They were the see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil bunnies. To get down to the weight limit, we took them out of the suitcase, put them in a plastic shopping bag, and Kevin carried them on. I already had a carry on and my purse, so he carried the bag with the bunnies around the airport.

One guy mentioned how nice my husband is. I agreed that he is very nice, that he's very laid back, and does things like that for me very frequently.

But then, the conversation took a turn for the ugly. Then it started to get into the 'Your husband is only going to tolerate being treated that way for so long, he's only going to stay laid back for so long, and you are very lucky that he tolerates you the way that he does.'

!!

This wasn't from just one person, it came from several directions.

I said that yes, Kevin's ability to be so laid back was probably a huge reason that we got along so well, but, his ability to go with the flow was something I thought he inherited long before he met me, because his family was extremely difficult, and therefore it was just part of his nature to be laid back, as a way of dealing with his family as a child. And now, that worked well for me, because he's still much more relaxed and laid back than I am, so it still works out well.

I thought it was pretty understanding of me to be able to admit that: A. I'm not always a ray of friggin' sunshine to deal with, and yes, Kevin and I are a good match and B. I talked about how great Kevin was.

But it wasn't enough, because then I hear things like, "You are always mentioning the nice things your husband does for you, and you never seem like you appreciate it much, you should consider yourself lucky that he puts up with you the way he does" and "It'll be interesting to see how tolerant he remains of you after you have this baby!"

I mention it sometimes when Kevin does nice things for me, because I am happy and appreciative when he does nice things for me. I mentioned that he carried my bunnies through the airport, because I am so appreciative of the fact that he does things like that for me.

And the thing is, they don't know the half of it. Kevin does stuff like that all the time. Melissa, remember when he toted our wedding pictures all over NYC because I wanted to bring them with me to show you? Did I make him do that?? No. Of course I didn't. I offered to carry them several times.

And in talking to the people at work, why would I make a point of telling them about the nice things I do for Kevin? I tell them things because I want them to know how awesome of a husband I have, not because I am trying to tell them how awesome I am. Clearly you all know that our relationship isn't a situation where Kevin does everything while I sit at home on my butt and watch TV and eat chocolates....give me a break! I guess I always thought of it as a partnership. I remember to send his mom a card on her birthday, he carries stuff for me sometimes. I make lasagna for dinner because it's his favorite- he empties the trash. I make the grocery list, and put the groceries away--he carries most of them in the house from the car.

So, my question to you is this: Is it husband abuse if we are out somewhere, like say the mall, and he offers to carry some of my shopping bags, and I let him? Is that not ok? If I am trying something on, and ask him to keep all the bags with him while he's sitting in the store's 'man chair', is that bad too? What if I ask him to keep my purse with him, because sometimes I do that too? Am I going too far, am I taking too much advantage of the situation?

Whenever we go somewhere and he holds a door or carries my bags, I always think of it as chivalrous or something, something he does because he cares about me and wants to let me know. I never considered that it's just me taking advantage of him or manipulating him in some way. Now that I am pregnant, he insists on cleaning the bathrooms, too, because he doesn't want me breathing the fumes of the cleaning stuff while carrying our child--is that ok? Is that wrong? Am I doing something mean or bad or wrong that he wants to do that? I usually let him clean the bathrooms, because if I start to he gets all mad at me, (actually, he's not that good at bathroom cleaning, and in the mornings when he's gone to work, I spruce things up a bit and he doesn't know) because he doesn't want the baby exposed to the fumes. I personally think women clean bathrooms while pregnant every single day, and it's no big deal, but since he thinks it's a big deal, I just let it go.

Am I really a jerk for letting my husband do things like that for me? Is letting him carry my bags and put gas in my car really mistreating him?

He's moving, thank God.

2006-06-16T14:44:00.000-05:00

Mr. Pants has been moving quite a bit for the past few weeks. While we were in NYC, he moved while we were in ESPN zone, and Toys R Us. Now he moves everyday, several times. One time, he kicked hard enough that Kevin felt it! He must be very strong. I'll bet he is strong, because Kevin and I are pretty tough ourselves.

Was talking with some co-workers that I don't dislike the other day, about the possibility of Mr. Pants playing football someday. I think that's a terrible idea, because he could get hurt playing football--I've seen the movie Any Given Sunday, and I was a spectator at the Big House when Michigan players (and opponents) were 'shaken' on a play, and it looked like they might have been killed.

Seriously, Kevin would love it though. He would love it if the boy played football.

Although I did concede that, he will probably be big enough to play football. I mean after all, my mom is the 'shrimp' of our family at about 5 foot 6, and Kevin's mom is the 'shrimp' of his family at around 5 foot 8. None of us have little family members--all are of the tall, large variety. Genetically, Mr. Pants will probably not be little.

But he's moving now, Thank God. He's moving when I lay down in bed, he's moving when I sit at my desk. He was just moving a minute ago. Yesterday, I was poking my finger against the side of my gigantic swelling uterus, and when I took my finger away, he moved. We did that for a few minutes--me poking him, him moving--it was either a fun game, or a cool coincidence. Although I haven't been able to get him to do it again, so, who knows.

People are saying a lot of things like, "Wow! You are starting to really pop!" and "I can't believe you are 25 weeks--that's about six months! You certainly don't LOOK big enough to be six months pregnant!" But I am feeling it. I am feeling pretty big. I am reminded of the bulge at my gut whenever I try to bend over to reach something--and then I think about, how it's only going to get bigger....

It's amazing. He's growing so much. He's fully formed now--isn't that weird? He's just getting fatter, so he's going to be this plump perfect little baby when he's done.

We put the crib up. And I decorated it with the chamois lambie bedding I bought. (the crib is the free one the guy I mentioned before from work was giving me). I put something stupid on my baby registry that if someone buys it for me, I will certainly cry--and I hella don't want to cry in front of the 80 people our moms invited to the shower. Jesus! I am already a whimpering weepy ball of sobbing cries all the time (thanks hormones) and I just don't think it's wise to tell people I want things that will make me bawl. So tonight, when I leave work, I am going to go buy it. And then I am going to take it off my registry.

BTW, the guy from work gave me that crib, and the breast pump, and a pack-n-play, and a high chair. So I went online the other night and took some things off the registry that I didn't need anymore--and found out that people have been buying things from it already! What the?!? The invites aren't even out. I have to go get the thing that will make me cry, and quick take it off before someone buys it.

It's a green wall sign, that says I'm a dream come true.

Don't any of you dare buy it. I love you, but don't make me cry. I am going to buy it tonight, hopefully, I am doing it in time. Before someone else buys it.

I'll keep it on if our babies r us doesn't have it anymore. I still want it, even if it will reduce me to a blubbering sobbing fool.

You know what sorta sucks though? The shower is at noon, and Kevin's family is having a family christmas in July party that evening after the shower. It sucks, because it's going to be a really long day. The last time I went to the annual christmas in July party was when we lived in Michigan, and I had mono. I went to the party (I didn't know I had mono yet, I thought it was just strep throat and I had taken the week's worth of antibiotics, it had to improve..) and it was hot and it was at his aunt's house, and they played some game that only the married couples could play, all the others, the 'kids' had to sit outside and wait. Outside. In the sun. In the driveway. I asked his aunt if I could take a folding chair out with me to sit on, because I wasn't feeling well, and she told me no.

Not terribly fond of that one, I'm not....

Anyhow, shortly after that, Kevin and I left because I felt like total crap and thought I was going to die. I went home and crashed.

But we are getting to do that again this year. His mom is in charge of it this year though, so she's holding it when we will be home, on the same day as the shower so that her family that will be in town for the christmas party will also be able to attend the shower earlier in the day. I think that's a little better, because if we get kicked out in the driveway so the grown-ups can play a game (maybe this time, people who haven't actually birthed their babies yet will have to sit outside for the hour long game, who knows??) I will just take a chair with me. 7 months pregnant in the sunny hot driveway in July to just stand around for an hour? No thanks. I'll take a chair this time. I won't ask this time, either. F-that.

I think Mr. Pants is very excited to go home to Michigan.

Oh, I forgot the mention, the breast pump the guy gave me is a Medela Pump in Style. According to the directions, you can sanitize it by putting all the pieces in boiling water for ten minutes or something, so I am good to go. Sweet.

I am going to buy some more maternity pants this weekend. I need a few more pairs, especially some khaki's.

I have to pick out a dresser/changing table for the baby now.

And I want some raspberries.

Mmmmm.

And some pineapple. Oh, I have some, think I will eat some right now........

you all have a good weekend. I will try not to eat the entire pineapple this time.

Can you believe I am going to have a kid in 14 weeks and 4 days??

Oh, and by the way, evidently after making fun of my weight, my boss went home and over the weekend got some kind of severe sunburn. He missed wednesday, half of yesterday, and all of today trying to recover from his severe sunburn.

I'm definitely NOT saying 'Good, I'm glad' or anything like that, but, this would cause one to consider that maybe God DOES punish people when they do mean and hurtful things to others. Awfully coincidental that at about the same time he did something awful and mean, something bad happened to him...

Oh, and another BTW, our priest is leaving our church this weekend. And I really really like him. He's so nice. And I'm irrationally sad that he is leaving to go to another parish. Last week, he said good bye, and I started crying in church when he said good bye--it was downright embarrassing. Cried so much I needed a tissue. Cried so much that I had to rush out of church without saying good bye or wishing him well. They are having a reception for him Sunday, and I am thinking I will not go, but that I will send him a card telling him how much Kevin and I have enjoyed knowing him, that he's made an impact on our lives, and unfortunately, I can't see him or talk to him because my nutty irrational pregnancy hormones won't let me do it without making a crying fool out of myself. This is NOT something to sob over. No one killed my dog, you know? He's just a priest who happened to be nice going to a parish a few towns away. Kevin even pointed while I was all crying that we could go to the church he's going to a few times if we wanted to, to say hello and see how he's doing. No, no no, it's not that--it's not that I am all that attached to him--it's just that I can't have a normal emotional response to things right now. For example, after church, I went home and collected myself, and then Kevin and I went to Red Lobster for dinner, and while waiting for a table, I watched all the lobsters in the lobster tank. Suddenly, I realized that they were going to die, imminently, because people were going to eat them. They were in a holding tank while all of these unsympathetic humans just watched them be carried away to the kitchen to be boiled alive in water and then dipped in butter. I wondered if they were missing their families, or if some of their family members were in the same tank, but separated by the plastic sheets with the holes in them, crying out desperately to their children or spouses or parents on the other sides of the plastic sheets-like the mothers calling out to their children at a Nazi concentration camp at separation time or something. Smelling the smell of lobster being cooked and served. I tried to remind myself that lobster is delicious, and I enjoy eating it myself. A lot. It didn't help--I ended up crying in the waiting area at Red Lobster, for the lobsters' plight. I'm not a vegetarian. I like eating meat. Those feelings were not normal feelings for me. I understand if people who are vegetarians feel that way, but, me??? Weird. Weirder yet, I still tear up thinking about it.

How pathetic. How insane. I'm not going to be like this forever, right?????

pineapple--friend or foe?

2006-06-13T10:10:00.000-05:00

I love pineapple--now that I am pregnant. NOT canned pineapple--now that I am pregnant--only fresh pineapple. I bought a little corer and slicer for the pineapple thing, because I wanted it to be really as fresh as I could get it.

Since being pregnant, I have maybe gone 3-4 days at the most without pineapple. It's so sweet, and so delicious, and smells so wonderful, and tastes so fantastic--it must be very high in sugar, and therefore very high in calories.

So, therefore, how bad is it that I just ate an entire pineapple in one sitting? I don't even feel that satisfied--I just feel like I desperately want/need more pineapple.

It was so great. *sigh*. Will have to go to the grocery store and get more soon.

Snippet of a conversation with my boss

2006-06-08T11:58:00.000-05:00

boss: How is your class going?

epp: fine, I had to write a resume and cover letter last night, and he wants us to 'pretend' apply for a job.

boss: Did they go over the interviewing skills portion yet?

epp: yeah, last week.

boss: anything good?

epp: not really, sorta disappointing. They only said things that everyone knows, like, "Don't wear jeans to an interview" and stuff like that. Everyone knows that.

boss: You didn't wear jeans to your interview when you came here, you wore a little black suit.

epp: Yeah, I wore a black suit.

boss: I'll bet that suit doesn't fit you anymore.

epp: none of my clothes fit me anymore, I'm 24 weeks pregnant. That's almost six months.

boss: Yeah, but I'll bet it hasn't fit you for a while.

epp: I wore it in January when I went on a customer visit.

boss: It must have been really snug.

epp: no, actually, it wasn't.

boss: Really? Are you sure? I can't believe it.

epp: believe it.

*Epp exits, scene ends*

?? What the? Is it my pregnant hormones working here, or does anyone else also think my boss is trying tell me I'm a hell of a lot fatter now than I was when I first started working here??

And if that's true, what business is it of his??? If I gain a hundred pounds, does that make it OK for him to comment on that?

It sucks here

2006-05-26T08:53:00.000-05:00

I'm so sick of the weather here. It's so hot. And it's so humid. And summer is just getting started.

I hate summers here. The humidity is so thick you could cut it with a knife. The sky so monotone grayish/white--I hate it. I miss seeing clouds, and blue skies. Day after day of some weak sunlight that somehow scorches the earth here, humidity to make you think you might be in a rain forest, and then bland colorless skies. Air that smells like smoke or propane. I hate it.

I miss home. I miss home so much. Mom says it's raining there today--but you know it's going to be beautiful after it rains. And it's a comfortable 70 degrees. She said it's humid right now though, because of the rain. It'll get better though. They are going to the cottage for the holiday weekend, and my brother is coming with his two kids too. I don't think the kids have ever been to the cottage--they are going to have a blast.

I am so jealous. So so jealous.

I guess, sometimes, he's an active little bugger!

2006-05-24T08:25:00.000-05:00

Literally, something is living inside me. I felt it move once last week--a little, tap, tap, tap. And then, yesterday afternoon, it rolled over or something.

But last night, at bedtime---

Kevin and I had just gone to bed. Kevin was talking, and all of a sudden--he moved. I don't know what he did--wave his arms, kick his legs--but, he moved.

I as like "shhh!!! He's moving! He's definitely, definitely moving!"

So Kevin shuts up immediately,, rolls over, and puts his hands on my stomach, hoping he can feel something.

Of course, he can't--I mean, I just started feeling it on the inside.

So then, he stops. Kevin starts talking again--and he moves, again!

Repeat above process---" Shhh!! Kevin! He's MOVING again!" Kevin stops talking--he stops moving. Ha. We wait a few minutes, but baby is done again.

Kevin goes back to talking (what the heck was he talking about?? I don't know, I was wondering if I would feel it move again, and I think at this point Kevin was just trying to see if the baby was actually moving to his voice).

When Kevin talks again, the baby --you guessed it--MOVES again!

For the next ten minutes or so, whenever Kevin spoke--the baby moved. Whenever Kevin stopped talking--the baby stopped moving. Isn't that funny??

Then it quit working. All of a sudden, Kevin would say stuff, and the baby was like, ok, that was fun, but now the game's over, I'm bored, so I'm just going to lay here again.

It was soooo cool.

My mom called (yes, after we were both in bed about asleep!) and I told her about the baby moving when Kevin talked--she said "Tell him that this will probably be the only time the baby responds to his voice--once he comes out, and starts to grow up, kevin can say whatever he wants to him and he'll just ignore him like all other kids--watch tv, talk on the phone, play a video game--" We got a good laugh out of that:)

Sorry, Chunky Monkey....but this might make you jealous.....

2006-05-18T12:41:00.000-05:00

I hate mashed potatoes. I have always disliked them. They are fluffy, and smooth, and white, and bland, and hot, and, worst of all---ewww--sometimes creamy. And when I eat them, they make me gag. So I never do.

Until about two days ago, when I had the most overwhelming urge to eat mashed potatoes. It was weird. I tried to ignore it--I mean seriously, mashed potatoes? uck. How about cookies? Cookies are good....

But not as good as mashed potatoes, this voice I have never heard before whispered in my head.

But I ignored it still.

Then, today, I made a presentation to a customer at work. Then i stayed and ate lunch. and they served--mashed potatoes!

And I ate them. And then, I ate some more. I ate a ton of mashed potatoes, because they were delicious. The most delicious mashed potatoes I have ever eaten. With chunks. And garlic. And I think butter. Mmmm. Apparently Mr. Pants LOVES mashed potatoes, because God knows I don't.

Sorry C.M. The part that will make you jealous now is over.

Let's talk about pee.

So the day of the u/s, it was at 3:30. They told me to drink 32 ounces of water between 2 and 2:30, and then, not use the bathroom, because my bladder is supposed to be very full.

I did as I was told. And at about 2:40, I really had to pee.

Kevin and I headed to the place where the u/s was going to be, and we got stuck in a traffic jam behind an accident. Kevin did a U-turn OVER a median, and I thought I was going to burst. I had to pee so bad at this point, that I hurt. So we get there, and I tell them, I'm really desperate, and I'm not sure I can hold it (I actually walked in doubled over). They were like, yeah yeah, whatever, you have to, so, suck it up. I get in, I lay down, she puts the jelly stuff on my belly, and starts pressing on it with the thing.

Then she's like, "Whoa! You're bladder, is really really full." I was like yeah, I know you, I told you that when I came in, I don't know how much longer I can hold it. She was like no, seriously, it's so full, that I can't see anything....

Point is, she actually let me empty 16 ounces of fluid from my bladder. It was the greatest thing ever. I came back in for the u/s, and she was like "well, jesus, it's still really full--but at least I can see. "

Ha. I told them all I was in pain and they made me drink too much water. Jerks. Didn't believe me. Why in the heck would they make you drink that much water? So I talked to some other people, and I found out, that apparently, no one really does that. My sister in law was like yeah, whatever, I used to drink one glass and then figure that was good enough. 32 ounces--they can kiss my ass. A girl at work said, "They told me 32 ounces, and I figured they were crazy, soI didn't drink much at all--no one complained. You just tell them that you drank the water--they don't know the difference."

What the?? Everyone knows this but me? They must need it for some reason, or else, why would they ask that? Weird. They must know the difference.

OK, yesterday after I posted the pictures of the u/s and myself, I can't post anymore pictures. I go to the icon, browse for the pic in the file I am keeping it in, and then upload the image. it says it is uploading the image, then I click done--but there is no picture there. Can anyone tell me what I am doing wrong?

Thanks!

oops, I forgot--

2006-05-17T12:12:00.000-05:00

They said he weighs about a pound. According to the u/s, I was 21 weeks 3 days yesterday, and due date is September 23. So, they initially told me September 26, right on schedule.

Oh boy!

2006-05-17T09:37:00.000-05:00

Allow me to present to you: Mr. Babypants!

Look how cute! Can you make out any body parts? well, to the right, is his head. It's a side view. You can see his ear, and his nose, and then you can see one arm, his left arm, and his right hand sticking up, because he apparently likes to punch me constantly but I can't feel it. Ha!

There he is! I hope you guys can see this, scanning the pic made it too dark, so I took a picture of it with my digital camera. Here is another picture for you to enjoy, so you can see how fat I am getting:

I know, I know. I look like a freakin' cow. Don't forget though-I had an ample gut to start with. So it's not all Mr. Babypants.

While I'm showing some pics though, let's go all out--here's some more of Mr. Preciousbabypants:

Here, if you can see above the flash from the camera, is his spine. Cool. The arms, legs, skull, ribs, and spine were really easy to pick out. She showed us all sorts of organs and other body parts that looked like blurry blobs.

Have you noticed yet that I keep saying 'he'? !!!

I know! I can't believe it's a boy either!!!!! We all thought girl! So much for mother's and father's intuition!

I know we weren't going to find out, but, we went in, and we were like, if you can see it, tell us. if you can't, well, then we'll be surprised when he's born.

But he had a scrotum and a penis (well, she said he did...it looked like gray and black blobs to me) so she said she's 99% sure he's a boy.

Here's a picture of Kevin on his 30th birthday being all happy. This is kinda how he looked in the ultra sound room when she said it was a boy:

OK, never mind. I keep trying to upload it, but well, it's not working my way, so....that one doesn't get on here. But trust me, he was really happy.

That's all the news for right now. We're having a boy!

Talk to you later!

I want to know what ya'll think.

2006-05-16T10:05:00.000-05:00

What do you think--what's your vote???

Is it going to be a boy? Is it going to be a girl? How much do you think it will weigh? What day do you think it will be born?

Let me know. We'll keep the guesses, and see who's closest:)

Let me know asap--the ultra sound is today, and well, sometimes, I understand you can tell even if you don't want to know what it's going to be:)

21 Weeks...

2006-05-16T06:10:00.000-05:00

It's that time again--Tuesday. Tuesday marks the beginning of another week. Here's the stats I've read so far:

Americanbaby.com says:
Babypants is about 7 inches long and weighs a pound. It can hear a lot now. My womb is as noisy as an airport runway during take off.

Babycenter.com says:
Babypants is 10.5 inches long, and weighs 3/4 of a pound.

Babycenter also says I can certainly feel it move. It actually uses those words. Certainly feel it move.

But, I can't. I'm assuming that's ok.

So there's the stats! I'll let you know how the ultrasound goes!!

Libra

2006-05-15T15:13:00.000-05:00

If the Babypants is born according to schedule, it will be a Libra.

According to Yahoo! Astrology, this is today's horoscope for Babypants. Considering my most recent post and Melissa's comments about me being human and having my own life, it's a little funny:

Quickie:People may try to distract you today, but they're not doing it on purpose. Focus!

Overview:Your loved ones feel like you're putting them to the test -- and handing out scores before all the answers are in. Lighten up just a tad. While it doesn't hurt to have high standards, you need to let them be human.

Ha! Maybe I am so paranoid because something inside me is sensing that the Babypants has extremely high standards, and I am afraid of not measuring up.

I can't help but find this amusing!:)

What if I ruin you?

2006-05-15T12:32:00.000-05:00

Oops, I went crazy again, and decided that the baby might not be alive anymore. Someone suggested that I read the What to expect when you are expecting book, and even though I told them it really made me more scared. They assured me if I kept reading, it would calm my fears. So last night, when my fears that the piece of chocolate cake I shared with kevin's sister friday night for his birthday, and well, the frequent yay you are 30 birthday sex (sorry for the tmi--I'm just being honest with my fears here, girls, and Roberto), had in effect killed the baby, I opened What to Expect When You're Expecting, and read an article about how to deal with the grief if your baby dies in utero.

Yes, I know. I have no reason to think there is something wrong. Cake once in a while is all right, I haven't gained a lot of weight, I eat my fruits and veggies and drink my water and avoid caffeine--and sex is supposed to be good, right? But the cake was really delicious, and I hadn't counted on it being that good, so I knew it just might put the baby in a coma or something. And yes, sex is good, right? But well, after having little to no sex drive for so many months, and suddenly it came back--well, could we have done it too much??

And still, I haven't felt it move.....

So I called the midwife, came in, and heard the heartbeat. It's doing fine. And tomorrow, we are having the ultra sound, so, we will get to SEE the baby. So that'll be good.

But then, the midwife, who is so nice, started asking me some really tough questions, like, why exactly are you so worried that something is going to happen to the baby? She wanted me to blurt out five reasons that I am so scared, because she thought that would be the 'real' reasons behind my paranoia. I told her about the cake. I told her it was extremely good, so probably the excess sugar could hurt the baby. It was better than five cookies. That's why I shared it with Kevin's sister. I told her about the lots of sex. So told me both things were not a problem, and asked again why I was so worried.

But, I can't answer that, because it's so many things, but nothing, all at the same time. It's as simple as being aware that while there's no reason the baby should be dead, there's also no reason it should be alive. And that made me cry. And the truth is, it's such a miracle, that I don't feel deserving of it. The fact that I actually conceived feels so precarious, that at any minute it could be taken away, and that's the kind of grief I couldn't bear. I can hardly bear to consider it. Can't she understand that? I'm just an average person--why would I deserve something so wonderful to happen to me? I don't. I just feel like--God made a mistake, and I'm thankful for it, but one day he's going to notice his mistake, and take it away. It's only a matter of time. Sometimes I feel like I just can't afford to get too attached, to get too excited about this, because I could lose it, sometimes I'm just not sure yet that it's real.

How can I depend on my failure of a body to grow and protect this baby. My body has never done anything but let me down--I've always been too tall, too overweight, my feet too long--no matter what I have ever done, my body has fought me on it. OK, OK, I know that stuff doesn't matter, but still. I've always had a crappy immune system, too. I've had chicken pox and then in college, shingles. I had mono a couple years ago. I get classical migraines. I have polycystic ovarian syndrome. My body is working against me. Why would it keep my baby alive?

My midwife suggested I see a counselor. I told her I was already seeing one for anxiety. She thinks I have some issues not being able to love myself. Self esteem issues. She wants me to talk to my counselor to work on that.

I'll talk to my counselor about this, but, I don't think I really have any self esteem issues. It's just the truth. Selt esteem issues would be a problem if I believed things about myself that were negative and untrue. But everything I believe is true.

If the baby survives God trying to take it back and my body working against it, what if I ruin it? What if I do something horrible to the baby that scars it for the rest of it's life, and it hates me? I would never do it on purpose, but, what if I screw up? What if I let it go for a weekend with it's grandparents, and the grandparents are horrible to it, and the baby has a horrible time, and then never forgives me because I was supposed to protect it? I'm the mom, I'm supposed to protect it. What if the baby likes dogs, and so I get it a dog, but then one day the dog bites the baby for some reason, and the baby is afraid of dogs forever, and hates me because I let it have a dog that bit it??

We saw the Chronicles of Narnia this weekend, and I didn't really like it. What if I let the baby watch a movie like that, and then the scene where they do the creepy satanic ritual sacrifice scares the baby, and it has nightmares?

What if I protect the baby too much from the world, and then it's too trusting, and some unscrupulous human hurts it somehow later on when it grows up?

You know, I'm not a stupid girl. Why did I never think of any of this before? And why am I thinking about it all now? How can I make this stop, because it's nonsense. Right?

It's going to be fine, really.

The midwife called after I stopped in, to make sure I was seeing my counselor at least weekly.

*sigh*

I can't help it though. I just don't feel like I have the ability to control anything--not even my thoughts. Does someone know the secret, to making this all better?

It's a miracle any of us were ever born at all.

20 weeks, and I rock out at microbiology....

2006-05-09T16:19:00.000-05:00

I am offically half pregnant today. One half of my pregnancy is complete, and I only have one have to go. The baby better start getting to work developing and stuff, because it only has 20 weeks left before it's appointment to be out of my uterus, and into my arms. My arms first, Kevin's arms 2nd.

I really think I should get to hold it first.

We have an ultra sound one week from today. I decided that I want to find out what it is. Kevin decided that he still doesn't want to know what it is. So. We aren't going to find out what it is. If I knew and he didn't, well then, what purpose would that serve? If it's a girl, and he doesn't want to know, I can't start stocking up on cute girl stuff, because that would give it away. I can't quit considering one sex's names, because that would give it away--so there's really no point of me finding out, if I can't tell him. But next tuesday, I will get to see it. If I can't find out the gender, I at least want to find out if it has two arms and two legs, and a brain inside it's skull, and hopefully any other obvious things that the ultra sound can show.

20 weeks. Wow. I haven't felt it move yet. I am feeling something though. I mentioned it before--kinda like a tightening, like a slight stomach growl, but not really a stomach growl.... I don't know. Everyone says that's not the baby, because the baby feels like flutters. I haven't felt flutters. What if I never feel it move? Does that ever happen? I asked my mom, and she was just like "trust me, you will feel it move." But what if I don't. What if my uterus is so huge, that the baby never grows big enough to touch the sides, and just floats around in the middle of this pool of amniotic fluid and I never feel it move. Is that possible? Does that ever happen to people? I guess the baby would be very comfortable if that were the case. Lots of wiggle room.

I'm just about in maternity clothes now. Seriously. A large amount of my clothes don't fit anymore, and maternity clothes have started to become more important. Mostly just the pants. Shirts are still pretty all right, but things have gotten tighter in the tummy recently. Actually starting friday. Since Friday morning, I have worn ONLY elastic-waisted baggy pants, or maternity pants. Well, maternity capris actually--it was nice this weekend. And with my capris I wore a cute maternity shirt, that looked way too big on me. But, when people saw me, they thought I looked very pregnant. Sweet! I'm starting to look the part, all I have to do now is feel it move. Start to feel the part, you know? And not the hormonal crazy part, and not the worried new mom part--I have those parts of the role down.

I still like to think of it as a mischevious miniature baby, swimming around in the fluid to the beat of the Beach Boys CD I keep playing for it. People have said to play classical music, but seriously, I prefer the Beach Boys. And probably the baby does too. Specifically the song I picked out as our favorite one, called Shut Down.

Tach it up, tach it up, buddy gonna shut you down....

It happened on the strip where the road is wide
two cool sharps standing side by side
Yeah, my fuel injected stingray and a four-thirteen
We're revvin' up our engines and it sounds real mean...

Tach it up, tach it up, buddy gonna shut you down....

Declinin' numbers at an even rate
at the count of one we both accelerate
my stingray is light, the slicks are startin' to spin!
But the four-thirteen's really diggin' in!

Gotta be cool now, power shift here we go....

Haha. You get the idea. Those are just the first two verses. What the hell does all that mean? I dont' know. But it sounds cool, and it's a catchy tune. And maybe if we sing it to the baby a lot (as I have been), it will like cars, and know something about cars. Like my dad. or my friend Ron.

Ron knows a lot about cars. He and I used to go to the Woodward dream cruise, and he would point out cars to me that the Beach Boys sing about in their songs. Fuel injected stingrays, 413's, Little duece coops, T-birds, 409's. It was fun.

He knows a little too much though--it really ruined the fantasy about fuel injected stingrays when he told me that all cars are fuel injected now. Made the Beach Boys triumph over the 413 a little less exciting--

He's hot with ram induction but it's understood--
I got a fuel injected engine sitting under my hood.

Shut it off, shut it off, buddy now I shut you down!

I think that ram induction (whatever the hell that is) sounds just as impressive as fuel injection.

Anyhow, Babypants is -20 weeks old now (because at birth it will be 0 years, so now is -20 weeks), likes the Beach Boys (I am sure), and hasn't moved yet. Or at least hasn't allowed me to feel it move.

So I took my microbiology final last night. I don't know exactly what I got on the exam, but he handed out slips of paper with the grades in the class on them, and I got an A. Sweet. I would like to know what the exam grade was. I asked him, and he told me to just go home and forget about it and enjoy my A. OK. Whatever. I enjoy.

The final was quite fun actually. There were no stupid hard questions that made me think, it was all easy stuff, but had a pretty good sampling of the things he went over in the class. I think, I didn't go to all the classes....sometimes I was working late, sometimes I was feeling nauseated due to BP, and sometimes I was puking (also due to BP). But I went to a lot of the classes, and I went to every lab except one. I had a 100% on every single lab quiz (they gave us lab quizzes each week, and we never did a single lab report). Community colleges are excellent. So much leniency. They let you get away with practically murder. At the end of the class, he wished me luck with my life's journey (yes, he said that) and then told me that he enjoyed having me in class, because I worked really hard.

That made me feel kinda like a scumbag. He seems like such a nice guy--was he being sarcastic? I missed almost half of the classes, and I studied for only one test for more than an hour (the final). I didn't work hard, I barely did anything. I was so preoccupied with my pregnancy, that I toyed with the idea of dropping the class altogether because I didn't feel like going. But then I was too lazy to actually walk all the way over to the registrar's office and drop it (which is funny, because I'm actually really physically active. It was just the hassle I think that awaited me when I got there to drop the class), so I just decided to take the class, do as little as possible, and see what happens. And I got an A. Sweet. But I felt weird thinking that he thought I worked hard. Did I trick him somehow? He's such a sweet little greek man, like a grandpa-type or something. Did I hoodwink him into thinking that I worked hard during his class? I feel a little guilty, because I don't think he was being sarcastic. I think he's just really nice. I feel guilty that I didn't give his class a little more effort, and show up to it more often or study. I mean he put so much effort into all those powerpoint slides......

Yeah, maybe I'm a tad on the sensitive side these days.

So Kevin turns 30 Friday. And his mom and sister are coming here to surprise him for his birthday. I know that's a really nice thing, and I am so happy they are doing it, because I know it will mean so much to have his family acknowledge this milestone birthday.

Plus, I am really really excited to spend some quality time with my mother in law.

(I'll log off now, and leave you all to ponder that puzzling comment....)

By the way, Sex and the City is not funny. It's sad. sad sad sad, sad sad.

Shhh! Don't tell Kevin!

2006-05-04T19:24:00.000-05:00

Babypants found the PERFECT gift for it's daddy for his 30th birthday! Check this out!

http://cgi.ebay.com/DETROIT-LIONS-QUILTED-DIAPER-BAG-Baby-NEW_W0QQitemZ7727210521QQcategoryZ15558QQssPageNameZWD1VQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem

Sweet!

Baby Shower Q's

2006-05-02T11:03:00.000-05:00

Ladies (and Roberto)-

The baby shower is July 8th, at noon, at China Palace in Midland. (Yes! I get to eat at China Palace! My favorite chinese restaurant!! Yes! Oh how I miss you CP, with your delicious crispy sesame chicken and your beef and pork egg rolls...all for $4.75 at lunchtime.)

So what's the deal with this. If I am having a baby, what do I seriously need? I know the obvious ones, like crib, stroller, car seat, etc. But besides those glaring big things, what do I need?

And who should I invite? My mom wants me to register and make a list of friends I want to invite--she's got family. Who wants to call me and discuss my guest list? Is it OK to invite out of town friends, even though you know they won't be able to come, but just because you are so excited that you are having a baby and want to send them an invitation just to say, "Look! I'm really having a baby! Here's a shower invitation for proof!" and they have been buddies with you throughout the pregnancy, like Melissa? Or Kari, who will be in the Czech Republic during the shower (kari--is that the right place?). I don't know.

And can I seriously not invite Ron? Or Roberto? Or Andy (well, Andy's tucked away in Switzerland, as most of you know, poor Andy all the way over in Switzerland when he could be here watching me unwrap baby clothes and eating wonderful chinese food...). If it's friends, well, some of those friends don't have vaginas, but I love them still. I went through that with the wedding shower--only women. But the wedding had my male friends at it too, and it was a freakin' blast, so, why no men at the shower?

Suddenly, a 'grown-up'

2006-05-02T06:04:00.000-05:00

I feel more like a grown up on some days, more than I do others. In fact, the number of days I DON'T feel like a grown up is significantly higher than the days I feel like a grown up. In fact, I would have to say it goes like this:

Number of days feeling like a grown up: maybe 0.5
Number of days not feeling like one: all the rest.

Do you think I have Peter Pan Syndrome?

Anyhow, the reason for feeling a little more grown up today, is that after work, we are meeting with our financial advisor for grown up stuff. Life insurance. Retirement savings. College savings plan for the baby.

We met with him one time before, and we thought "What a great guy--he sure knows a lot, and he could really help us a lot when the time comes...." and then we made another appointment, but missed it because Kevin's grandma died. Then christmas came. Then we were pregnant. And the other day, I decided that now that I am going to be giving birth to this baby, I want Kevin insured. And I want to be insured for him too. Of course, his being insured first is most important, because if he dies now, but I don't, I'll still be a single mother raising our child. Even if something horrible happens before the baby is born. On the other hand, if I were to die tragically now, most likely, at 19 weeks, he would lose both of us. Therefore, he would not have a child to raise alone. Yet.

In a few weeks, that will change, because the baby will be developed enough that it can live outside me, and in a few more weeks, it will be born, and I could be driving to the grocery store while he watches the baby (and football) one sunday afternoon and be killed by a semi, then he would be a single dad. It would be nice if he had a big chunk of change to help offset the costs of not having my income.

Seems kind of morbid, but it's the way it is.

We are going to work on retirement, too. We've discovered over the past few months that if we try, we are remarkably good at saving money. Sweet. So, we need to start working on retirement. At 28 and a few days shy of 30, I personally feel like , damn, why did we wait so long?? On the otherhand, Kevin feels like, damn, we are so young, that if we start saving for our retirement now, we are going to be able to retire so stinking early! By the time we are 65 or 70, we will be resting easy! Of course, then I say, damn, I might have to work until I am 65 or 70? Jesus, I was hoping for a retirement of maybe age 50 or 55. I guess that'll never happen. People shouldn't work into their 60's. There are people here that old, Kevin's parents are that old, and whenever I have interaction with those people I think, dang they are so old and still working, that sucks, Kevin and I have to plan better than that.

OK, and the next thing on the agenda: a college savings plan for Babypants. Neither Kevin's parents or my parents had one for either of us, and we want to be able to have one for each of our kids.

Having to plan this stuff, and face this kind of stuff, really makes me feel like a grown up.

Sheesh.

We'll see how it goes.

I need to get to the grocery store....

2006-04-28T13:39:00.000-05:00

OK folks, so I'm knocked up (I mean that lovingly) and the past few days, I've been friggin hungry. I've gained no weight so far, and I don't know what's going on, but now, I sudenly feel famished most of the time. I've eaten us out of house and home just about. So here's how the day is breaking down:

Breakfast: Orange juice. Sesame bagel from dunkin donuts. With egg (or polyester substitute, it didn't taste like egg) and cheese.

Lunch: water. Mall chinese food (fried rice and orange chicken, one egg roll).

Lunch dessert: (here's where I KNOW I'm being really bad....) purchased 4 Mrs. Field's cookies for $5. Intended to share with Kevin and others. Instead, ate 2 and a half.

delicious.

4 and one half months = 18 weeks

2006-04-25T09:31:00.000-05:00

I saw the midwife yesterday, and Kevin came with to hear the heartbeat. Tyrannosaurus rex baby is doing just fine, although the midwife had trouble measuring the heartrate since Tyrannosaurus rex baby's mom kept giggling and causing her to lose the heartbeat. Giggling is so much better than crying. She tried to take a few times, and finally settled on, 161, 162, or 163 beats per minute.

I couldn't help it--she couldn't find the heartbeat at first, then she found it, and then she lost it, but immediately found it again all the way over on the other side of my stomach. So she made a joke about the baby swimming around in my amniotic fluid, so active that we can't catch it long enough to take the heartbeat, and it made me laugh. All evening. And today too. It's just so comical to imagine that there's this miniature human literally swimming around my uterus. That's funny. Like maybe it can tell from the pressure of the doppler that she's trying to measure it, and it giggles and swims away, just to be mischevious.

Mischevious little baby :)

Kevin liked hearing the heartbeat, and he's coming back with me to the next appointment at the end of May. We have a lab slip for an u/s, which we can go get anytime in the next three weeks. I think I will wait for maybe the thrid week, when I might be feeling insane again.

So here's the stats:
me: as we know, no gestational diabetes yet. Yes!
weight gain= none
BP= 118/72
Heartrate= 73
nuttiness factor= extremely high.

Baby: AFP came back normal, as reported previously to ya'll. Yes! Probably no neural tube defects or Down's syndrome
heart rate= low 160's
mischevious factor= probably high!
more heartbeat= strong, and loud.
gender guessing= still 85% chance of girl.
weight= according to your week by week pregnancy= 5.25 oz
- according to babycenter.com= 7 oz
- according to americanbaby.com= no weight report, they just said the baby will be able to start hearing voices soon.

I dreamt last night that I was huge, and I could feel it move. And Kevin's sister in law was pregnant too. And I was eating a chinese buffet breakfast full of all my favorites chinese foods. And I got to work and we all had letters from the evil dictator in charge that he was leaving for another company, called the Truman Candle Company, and he would miss us all.

The baby can probably hear my voice. I hope I'm not freaking it out--dude, can you imagine how freaky that would be? To live in a totally silent world your whole life, and all of a sudden, these unseen voices start up all around you? That would be weird. Especially if you didn't understand them. I wonder if the baby understands English. Maybe another language, but no one knows that because babies can't talk, and then as they grow up they forget what it was like to have all these people speaking strange things around them?

Maybe they like it though, maybe the baby's lonely in there with not even voices to hear.

I will play it the beach boys. What lovely sounds to hear first.

Just hanging out, waiting for it to move....

2006-04-21T12:36:00.000-05:00

I keep waiting for the baby to move. Little mr. or mrs. tyrannosaurus rex with the 156 beat/minute heartbeat move.

It's weird, because I can feel it now. Obviously I don't mean I can feel movement, but I can feel that it's there. My stomach is starting to stick out a little, and get hard. Suddenly (actually, at about 6:30 monday evening), I felt like I had pod attached to the front of me. Like a fanny pack on my waist almost, but I couldn't get rid of it. And that feeling hasn't gone away. It must be the baby.

It's so weird, because seriously, up until monday night, it so far has felt like--nothing. I knew it was there when I was sick, or when my boobs hurt, but other than that, my body felt no different--I didn't feel pregnant at all. Something weird happened, and now I suddenly FEEL pregnant. I can't describe it. Does anyone know what I am talking about?

So my belly sticks out a little now, and it's sorta hard to the touch. When Kevin hugs me, I can feel my hard solid feeling gut push against him.

Dude, seriously, isn't that weird???? That's f-ing weird!! Come on, you know it is.

So here I am, waiting for it to move. It seems like it could move at any time. Anything could prompt it to move, so I could feel it anytime. That's going to be so weird.

And I will be able to feel it soon I'll bet, because it's probably very big and strong.

Today I thought I might have felt it move, but I'm not sure. I felt like a 'tightening' sort of. Hmmm. I don't know. I might just have been hungry--it was almost lunchtime.

I will start feeling it (and knowing it!) for sure soon!

Chunky monkey--when did you say your u/s is? Are you finding out the sex then??

Phewww!

2006-04-18T15:44:00.000-05:00

I talked to my nurse midwife to see if I may have killed the baby when I was working out a few weeks ago and accidentally let my heart rate get too high, she told me no, and then I told her that I thought I might have killed it because I couldn't think of a reason that I didn't kill it.

Seems like anything and everything could kill it.

Of course, this was before chunky monkey's reassuring comment earlier. It was too late. I had already been crazy to the nurse midwife at the birth center.

So she said, why don't you just stop in and we'll listen to the heartbeat. You'll feel better then.

Awww. What a sweet offer. And if I wasn't crazy, I would have just thanked her and said I would just see her monday when my appointment is.

But since I AM crazy, I said that would be awesome, I will be there this afternoon.

So I went, and the found the heartbeat right away, and it was 156 beats per minute, and it was very loud and strong. And easy to find.

And I would be resting so easy now, if I hadn't sat in the midwife's office and sobbed about how relieved I was that the baby wasn't dead.

Kevin would be so disappointed if I accidentally killed our baby. And so would I, but, I would at least deserve the disappointment because I was the dumbass who screwed up and caused something to go horribly wrong with the baby. He would just be the dumbass who procreated with me.

The midwife must think I am insane. And she offered for me to sign up for some early pregnancy classes. And she told me I could come back every single day to listen to the heartbeat if I wanted to, if it would ease my fears. There's no possible way that she will think I am not insane. Maybe she's figuring that she will have to call child protective services to take the baby when it's born because I'm so crazy.

You don't think she would do that, do you??

Isn't that nice that she offered everyday heartbeat monitoring? Midwives rule.

And she guessed that it's a girl. She said with a heartbeat of 156, there's an 85% chance that it's a girl.

I love these fun guessing games!

17 weeks and counting...

2006-04-18T07:48:00.000-05:00

17 weeks today, rock on. More than 4 months. Sweet.

Next monday I meet with my nurse midwife again, but next tuesday--I'll be 18 weeks. Sweet.

americanbaby.com says the baby is 7 ounces now, babycenter.com says 5 ounces. One thing I read says it's the size of a large onion, another thing I read says it's the size of a hand with fingers fully spread out. My hand with the fingers fully spread out is much larger than a large onion, it's more like the size of a melon. Maybe they should specify, someone with a small hand, all spread out. Yeah.

I'm actually not feeling so excited right now--honestly, mostly nervous. I was talking to kevin last night about it, and I think I was making him mad. All I can think about is, what if the baby's dead? How do I know? I don't know. I don't feel anything. It seems like any number of things could go wrong, and maybe I will go monday for my next appointment, and they won't hear the heartbeat, and I'll find out the baby stopped growing three weeks ago and is dead.

Kevin was all like, "Stop talking like that! Think positive!"

But I'm scared. I can stop talking like that I guess, but, I can't stop thinking it.

They say I am supposed to feel the baby move soon, so, hopefully that happens right away, and I can stop worrying. I will feel better then. I will feel better after they hear the heartbeat at my next appointment.

Is there something wrong with me that I am worried about this stuff? Please tell me I'm not a freak, and that other people worry about this too. I know it's probably all right, but....it might not be. Things happen. I'm so afraid that it might not be all right.

Gestational Diabetes Test, Alpha-feto protein test, and death threats

2006-04-17T08:08:00.000-05:00

I have the results of my glucose tolerance test (GTT, gestational diabetes test, I could call it any of these things--) and my alphafetoprotein test (test for genetic abnormalities), and I do NOT have gestational diabetes at this time, and my alphafetoprotein test came out negative (Which is good, it means that none of the genetic illness markers that they test for are there, but it does not test for ALL chromosomal problems, it's just supposed to be reassuring that it came out negative). My GTT level or whatever was 114, which is great, because I guess that highest it can be without going for further testing is 140. So I am well below 140. I have to have another one at 28 weeks, we will see how that one goes!!! What a relief all the way around.

I got a death threat this weekend. I don't know who is threatening me, but someone says they know where I live, have a gun, and are going to shoot me in the head. Kevin and I were leaving the easter vigil at our church saturday night, and it was about 11:50. We got to the car, and Kevin said "You had your cell phone off, right? Did we miss any calls?" So I looked, and we did miss a call, from a restricted number, and they left a voicemail. So I checked the voicemail, and a man left me a message that went like this "So what's up bitch? I know where you live, and I've got a gun, and I'm going to point it between your eyes, and shoot you. Boom!"

We called the police, they called us back several hours, and decided to do nothing and let me know later in the week if they found anything out.

Thing is, I don't really feel like being shot right now. Especially in the head.

Probably a wrong number. Poor 'bitch' who doesn't know someone knows where she lives, and is going to shoot her.

Makin' the preggers lady sad...

2006-04-12T13:06:00.000-05:00

But you still all need to hear it, because I need to share it.

Bob from work is a PhD chemist, so he's like all PhD chemists you know--socially kinda funny, but usually very sweet and nice. Bob has a 5 year old daughter that he hasn't seen in 4 and a half years. Bob had a wife, and she was from Mexico, and one day, she took their daughter, and moved back to Mexico, and won't tell Bob where she is because she doesn't want to come back, and doesn't want to share her daughter. Bob has spent a fortune trying to get his daughter back, but, has been unable to. It's really sad, because he talks about her frequently, but hasn't seen her for year. His ex wife sometimes sends pictures.

Bob has been very interested in my pregnancy. He's very excited for me, as are most people around here (no one has been pregnant around here in several years). One day a couple of weeks ago, Bob stopped me in the hallway, and he said "Hey, are you going to breastfeed?"

(When you think, hmm, that seems sort of inappropriate to ask, please keep in mind that I already told you, PhD chemist).

I told him I was, and then he told me that he had a state of the art breast pump that was his ex wife's, that she barely used, cost him a fortune, and was in very excellent condition, etc. Then he said I could have it.

Now, never having had a kid, and honestly not having qualms about taking free used stuff if it's nice and in nice shape, but still, it's a breast pump of a lady's I never knew, I wasn't sure. Is that wrong? Is that nasty? Can they be cleaned and sterilized? I don't know. Plus, my sister in law offered me all of her baby stuff, and she had a breast pump. Doesn't seem as weird coming from a sister in law as the ex wife from a guy at work. So I told him no, that I was getting my sister in law's, and thanks.

He said no problem, and to let him know if I changed my mind.

My mom is here visiting now, and I told her about the nice offer, and asked her if it's weird. And she said hell no it's not weird, and they can be sterilized, and they are damn expensive. As a matter of fact, several people rent them, so to have one of your own, it's fantastic and I should take it. I reminded her that my sister in law said I could have all her baby stuff, and she told me that SIL rented her breast pump. Oh. I did no know that.

So I came in to work today, asked Bob if the state of the art breast pump offer was still on the table, and he said yes, he will bring it in for me.

I was like awesome. He was like, is there anything else you need for the baby? I was like well, since I've never had a baby before, I don't have anything. He said "I have everything. I have strollers, high chairs--I even have a crib. It's all in my attic. Do you need any of that stuff?"

I said well of course, I could use some of those things, and I would love to see his crib, but is he sure he wants to give all this stuff away, and can I at least offer to pay him something for all this stuff?

He told me no, he doesn't want any money. He told me that he misses his daughter everyday, and that he kept all of these things hoping he would have her again some day, and when he recently moved and was moving all of this baby furniture, he realized that even if he got her back, she was way too old to use all of this stuff. But he moved it anyway. He told me that it's a constant heartache to have all that baby stuff, and it would mean much more to him than money if I would just take it all away. He told me that giving me his baby stuff would be a favor to him.

I said well, I'm really sorry about what happened to you, and I appreciate anything you give me very much. He told me that he appreciated giving what he could to me, because he would rather give it to someone he knows than just to donate it all or sell it to strangers. Or to hang on to it longer. So he's making a trip up to his attic, to make a list of all the baby things he has from his daughter, and then he will show me the list and I can have whatever I want.

SO nice of him.

So sad. I'm torn, because I feel guilt at taking all this stuff for free, but it's weird because he just seems desperate to give it to me. I think I will get him a gift certificate to Barnes and Noble or something when I thank him.

We'll see how this turns out. I have just felt sorry for this guy since I knew his story.....

He told me that he doesn't pay any child support, because evidently since his wife won't tell him where she's living and he is allowed no contact with his child, the court says he doesn't have to. But he is putting away like $2000 a month into a bank account for her to use for college, and his ex wife sent him a picture a few years ago, and he carries it around in his wallet all the time.

Isn't that sad? He's a really nice guy, I hope things work out for him.

Happy fill in the blank holiday, Grandpa and 'special friend'

2006-04-11T11:54:00.000-05:00

Why doesn't Hallmark make special cards that read "Merry Christmas, Grandpa and his wife!" or "Happy Valentine's day, Grandpa! You and your special friend mean a lot to me".

They make "For a special daughter and 'son' on Easter...", quotations marks and all because he's not REALLY my mom and dad's son, or "For a special daughter and son in law on Christmas...." cards. Those are nice, and true.

Just because she's suddenly married to my grandpa, does NOT make her my grandma. I had a grandma, and she died. Grandpa's new wife is certainly not my grandma. She's just his wife. Yes, I know she cleans his house now and sometimes cooks for him when they aren't grabbing burgers at the indian reservation casino, but still. None of those things make her my grandma.

Why is it so hard to find cards that acknowledge that. I think I would even settle for, "Thinking of you Grandpa and "Grandma" on this lovely new year". That would kind of mean like, no, you're not my grandma, but I'm not retarded and I know you are married to my grandpa, and grandma goes with grandpa, so, ok, I accept that, and I know you are someone's grandma because you have grandchildren that aren't related to me, and I accept you. Something like, "Happy Easter Grandpa, and his wife that's not my Grandma but I still like just fine!" would be super.

Shout out to the one who's lurking....

2006-04-11T09:40:00.000-05:00

I talked to my friend Roberto last night, and he already knew I was pregnant because he had been reading my blog! And he also couldn't believe Kevin didn't want to name the baby Elliott.

But Roberto hasn't left comments, so, I didn't know he was there. So I wanted to give him a little shout out.

Hey Roberto! I promise I will keep in touch better!

4 months knocked up

2006-04-11T09:31:00.000-05:00

Today is 16 weeks, or 4 months, which, as chunky monkey and I agree on, sounds much longer than 16 weeks. F-O-U-R M-O-N-T-H-S. Sounds like forever. Sounds like almost halfway.

I feel pretty good, except that work is a hotbed of stress and anxiety.

I had my glucose tolerance test this morning. I had class last night, from 6:30 to 8, so the last thing I had to eat was at 6. And then, this morning, I got to the lab at about 7:45. They opened at 7:30. There was just me and one other woman there, so I thought, hey, awesome. But apparently the other woman who got there first had some crazy paperwork that took both of the women who worked there to figure out, and no one called me up to start my paperwork until 8:30. Then, by the time they did my paperwork, took my blood for my alpha fetoprotein test, and then made me drink 10 oz. of Hawaiian punch syrup, it was 8:50. So I had to sit there and wait an hour. Didn't get out of there until 10. Made a mad rush to McDonald's, because well, if I didn't get real food in me soon, I was going to hurl.

The test was ok. No one told me I was supposed to bring a movie. Evidently, they like it when they put you in a dim-lighted room and you watch a movie for an hour, instead of go for a walk or read a book. I don't think I could have walked anyhow after chugging 10 oz. of Hawaiian punch syrup. I guess you lower your blood sugar when you expend energy, and they don't want you to do that, and watching dvd's is the lowest amount of energy you can expend apparently. They had a few there to borrow, so I watched Only You with Marisa Tomei. Of course, I watched the first hour of it is all....

But now, back to the grind.

They said I won't get my results of my GTT for a whole week, and results of my alpha feto protein is two weeks. that seems awful long for 2006.

15 weeks!

2006-04-04T09:44:00.000-05:00

I am 15 weeks today! One week shy of 4 months! Isn't that insane?? It seems like the time has flown by.

In case you are curious, the Babypants is 4 inches long, and according to babycenter.com, is 2.5 ounces, while according to americanbaby.com, is just under 2 ounces.

I am leaning more towards 2.5 ounces, because a baby made from me and Kevin's genes is likely to be bigger. That's my guess.

Babycenter says I've probably gained 5 pounds by now. But I gained one. It also says not to worry if your gain is more or less than 5 pounds, because all women gain at different rates.

The birth center visit

2006-04-03T15:06:00.000-05:00

First off, I have to get the facts right out there:

1. My uterus is huge. The week by week pregnancy book says it's beginning to poke up above my pubic bone. But, in reality, the nurse midwife helped me feel it, so I know where is it, and, it's way huger than above my pubic bone. It's about 3 inches lower than my BELLY BUTTON. I know. I am all uterus. All I can do now, all day long, is press on my stomach, through the fat layer (which I decided to consider is just an extra layer of protection) and touch my uterus, and poke at it, and feel it (which actually starts to hurt a little after a while because of the protective fat layer over my gut). Kevin says to stop torturing the baby, but, I don't think I am torturing it--it's more like a gentle massage probably.

2. Total pregnancy weight gain: 1 pound

3. Baby's heartbeat (which I heard!): 160 beats/minute.

4. My blood pressure is fine, actually it was a little on the lower side, at 118/64 I think she said. The bottom number was 60 somthing. Might have been 62. Either way, a little on the lower end, which she said is fine.

So there's the bare bones. Now for more details:

Nurse midwives seem to be pretty awesome, and I transferred my care to the birth center. The midwife I met Thursday was named Alissa (but she pronounced it Ay-leesa) and has been a labor and delivery nurse for 5 years before becoming a midwife. And she is a vegetarian. But I digress. She was very nice. And she gave me a book full of useful non-scary information. And there were diagrams of pregnant women in the exam room, and when I told her I had been having pain and showed her wear it was, she showed me a diagram of how much these ligaments called round ligaments stretch to accomodate your uterus. That looks like what it is. Much more informative than my OB telling me that it's not a problem if the pain isn't continuous and there's no bleeding.

The thing about the birth center that is also cool, well, there's a lot of things. For one, you have the baby right there. For two, a midwife is with you the entire time, and they call the nurse in for an extra set of hands right when you are about to deliver. For three, when you get there, you sign in, and then you go to this back room and weight YOURSELF, and pee in a cup and test your own urine with these urine test strips. That's awesome. When you meet with the midwife, you report the results to her.

She also told me that she does not care how much weight I gain, or don't gain, but that she DOES care that I am eating a healthy balanced diet.

Did I mention that you weigh yourself??? I think that's the most awesome thing ever. No wonder my blood pressure was low. Getting your name called and then having the nurse tell you to step on the scale, and then have her give you that disapproving look before she writes down your weight, is the most stressful thing I can think of. THEN, after putting you through that, they take your blood pressure. Now while some of my thinner friends can't relate, I know some of you out there must be able to. So anyway, I get to wight myself, which is much better. And then to have them not care if I gain or not? Fabulous. The pressure is off. I like having the pressure off.

They work with doctors. If I become high risk, they have a doctor who takes over my care. That's good. I like that idea. And since I don't have warm fuzzies for my current OB, well, then who cares about possibly losing her?

We talked about labor, and the birth. Did you know there are stools and chairs you can give birth in too? They have all kinds of cool stuff there. And of course, since it looks like a regular house, I asked them the important questions like, after someone births in a room, how do you get it all nice and clean and sanitary again for the next person? Or is birth not the blood bath I've begun to imagine it as? They assured me it's not a blood bath, and that they use the same cleaning techniques as they use in hospitals, and in fact have never in their 20 years + had someone get an infection from being there.

They also told me that when the baby is born, it's up to me whether or not I want erythromyacin in it's eyes or a vitamin K shot, that it's not standard. Hmm. Well, since I didn't know they did EITHER of those things or why they would, I got to find out. I guess in the hospital it's standard that babies get erythromyacin in the eyes to kill any infections, but that the infections are caused by gonnorhea and/or chlamydia (I think, it was two std's, if you know, please correct me) and since I don't have any of those, I don't technically have to have the erythromyacin in the baby's eyes. And vitamin K is some kind of immune system booster or something, I think, maybe a blood clotting thing (again, anyone know for sure?) and it's standard in the hospital too, but at the birth center, it's up to you. Hmm.

Then she told me about some possible links between vaccines and autism or other horrible diseases, and well, I'm not sure I buy into all that, but wow, look at all the info.

I liked it.

Incidentally, I started writing this yesterday, but didn't finish. And yesterday afternoon, I think I may have felt the baby move for the first time. I don't know. Maybe it was just gas. But it felt weird. I was at work, talking on the phone, and then in the right side of my belly I felt this, well, wave. Or maybe a little ripple. Briefly. It might have been the baby. I don't know. Wouldn't that be sweet if it was??

Who thinks the baby should be named Elliott?

2006-03-31T13:11:00.000-05:00

I had a conversation with Kevin last night, suggesting we name the baby after my dear friend, Elliott, who died long before his time. I thought it's a beautiful name, and would be a nice way to remember one I held so close to my heart, and sincerely miss.

Many of you knew Elliott. Kevin didn't even know Elliott, and insists that we absolutely will NOT name the baby Elliott.

Hmmm. I think it's nice.

And it sounds good with our last name.

And it's cute.

:)

I've been tagged!

2006-03-31T12:45:00.000-05:00

I've been tagged by Joanne!

Best get to it....

5 Restaurants you never get tired of:

Don Pablos.
China Palace
Oscar's
Kukurukoo Express
Pizza House (Ann Arbor!)

5 places you've lived:

Bay City, Michigan
Ann Arbor, Michigan
Indianapolis, Indiana
Belleville, Michigan
Bear, Delaware

5 movies you could watch over and over again:

Evita
Dirty Dancing
Legends of the Fall
Harry Potter- any of them
South Park

5 books on your nightstand:

What to Expect When You're Expecting
Your Week-By-Week Pregnancy
Breastfeeding Guidelines of the La Leche League
Out of This Furnace
The Namesake

5 Websites you visit daily:

www.google.com
www.babycenter.com
www.rabbitsarepeopletoo.blogspot.com
www.hotmail.com
www.ebay.com

5 places you like to shop:

Pottery Barn Kids
Baby Gap
Gymboree
Lane Bryant
Borders

5 People you would have over for dinner:

Harry Potter (they didn't have to be real, right?)
my mom (I really miss her)
Barry Sanders (for my husband)
Aidan Quinn (for me!:)
Jennifer Anniston (because I think the union of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie that results in a child must be a sign of the approaching apocolypse. Can we hear the horsemen drawing near?)

5 jobs you've had:

Nanny
Patient Attendant
Dorm front desk clerk
Bookseller (at Barnes and Noble)
Chemist

5 Things you would do with a million dollars:

move back home.
invest the majority of it.
pay off my car
Pay off my house in Bay City
Buy another new vehicle for my husband

5 things you would rather be doing than what you are supposed to be doing right now:

Having sex with my hubby.
Watching re-runs of ER
decorating the baby's room, and making hubby help.
making cut out cookies
Go to step class

If you've not been tagged, consider yourself tagged. I'm not going to name names here, you know who you are! (ahem, one of them starts with M and ends with -issa, you have a blog, and come in, it's fun!)

My baby(pants) takes the morning train... (not!)

2006-03-28T12:49:00.000-05:00

Good afternoon, friends:)

Well, Babypants is 14 weeks today, or maybe in human years it is -0.5 years. Isn't that fantastic? Your week by week pregnancy tells me Babypants is 0.9 ounces today, about the size of a lemon. Babycenter.com tells me Babypants is 1.5 ounces today. Who to believe? Who to trust? I'm going with 1.5 ounces, because well, Kevin and I aren't little people, and we come from big families. Genetically, Babypants isn't going to be any wimpy human.

I still sometimes think it would be cool if Babypants was a dinosaur. haha. Babysaurus Rex.

Anyhow, there are a lot of things that have been on my mind lately. About Babypants. I grew up in a family where both parents worked, albeit my mom worked part time, and had wednesdays and weekends off. Kevin's mom did not work when he was young. I don't think a parent who works vs. a parent who does not work makes much difference as far as how your children turn out, what kind of people they grow up to be, or how loved they feel. I've talked about Kevin's childhood and my own quite a bit, and I think we can all agree, that despite the fact that my mom worked, there's definitely no obvious insinuations that Kevin was better cared for/more loved/ well adjusted than I was, so, there.

I talked to Kevin about this. He agrees. Although he would like me to stay home. Although he realizes that financially, that's not feasible right now.

But I've been thinking a lot about child care. A lot. Like just about all the time. And I think about how I never did day care. And neither did Kevin. Which doesn't make it bad, but, neither of us really know what it's like. Here are the things I know about day care:

1. It's freakin' expensive. We can kiss good bye almost $800 per month on daycare. We could pay another mortgage for that.

2. It's strangers. Probably nice strangers, but still, strangers. That may or may not love my baby. And they are going to spend a lot of time with the baby. Kevin and I worked it out that if I drop the baby off at 9 am at day care, and he picks it up when he gets out of work at 3 (maybe 3:15), well, then it's only 6 hours a day. But 6 hours a day seems so long for the baby to be with strangers.

3. It's not my mom.

4. It's not even my aunt Dee.

5. It's not even my sister in law.

6. The other kids are NOT my nieces and nephews.

7. Ultimately, I said the most important one already, it's not my mom. I think the fact that my mom does not work at any day care here in Delaware is key. More bothersome than 800 bucks a month, more bothersome than strangers, is that it's not my mom.

Don't you understand? This has always been the plan. Since the day I was a little girl pulling on my leotard for dance class while my mom impatiently hurried me a long, and I said "When I have five little girls of my own, will you take them all to dance class too?" and she agreed to it. So that's the plan. She reminded me of it long after I had grown up and forgotten it, of course jokingly, but, deep inside, that's what I want.

So Kevin and I talked about it, and we agreed, we do not want to put Babypants into day care. And not only do we not want to, we plan NOT to. No DC for BP (Or Babysaurus Rex, whichever you prefer).

One more thing--does anyone know if Charlotte on Sex and the City gets pregnant? I don't have HBO, but have been watching some of the reruns on TBS and stuff, and well, this morning when I was watching the one where she found out that none of her eggs were viable, and she was sitting on the park bench holding the older lady's dog and crying about how sad she was, it broke my heart, and I cried all morning for her. Tell me she gets pregnant. Does anyone know?

Today's Dilemma

2006-03-27T10:12:00.000-05:00

My only friend here at work has put me in a tough situation, by no fault of his own. Let's call him Scotty.

Scotty is great. He has made it worth my while to come to work everyday. We are close to the same age, he rocks, and his wife is awesome, too. And we have become pretty good friends while we have been here.

Now working here makes you crazy and depressed.

The last day Scotty came to work was February 10th. He had been previously diagnosed with bipolar disorder, had some suicidal idealogies, and they committed him for a week to a mental hospital.

Now a few days went by of him just at home sick before this happened, and then his awesome wife e-mailed me and told me what the situation was, but that Scotty didn't want ANYONE else to know, because he was embarrassed about it.

I've been in touch with Scotty, and because Scotty is so likeable, lots and lots of people have noticed he is gone, and have asked about him. Since everyone knows we are friends, they come to me all the time and ask me. All I can say is, I don't know. All I know is that he's out sick.

Well, as you can see, that's been for weeks. I don't like lying to people, I talk to Scotty once in a while, and tell him that everyone is very concerned, and he is usually like "Well, isn't that nice that they are all concerned. Frankly, I wish they would mind their own business".

I understand. People here should mind their own business. But, despite the fact that he and I may think most of these people are crazy a-holes, he's been gone a long time now, and obviously people are going to start asking questions.

Of course, EVERYONE thinks I know more than I am saying. And they tell me that. And they are right, I do. But I am trying to fend off questions, trying to not be a jerk about it, and try and protect my friend's privacy as best I can. Even when I say things like, "Obviously, it's a private matter or else we would all know" people don't get the hint. One guy in particular, who worked very closely with Scotty (we'll call him Mr. PH for Potato Head) asks me every single day if I talked to him, if I heard from him, if I heard any news about him, and so forth. I'm always like "no" or "I talked to him (or his wife) and he's still sick, but no he's not dying." I don't know. I ask Scotty what he wants me to tell people, and he says things like "Tell them to mind their own damn business" or "Don't lie, but don't tell them anything" and "I have no idea what I am going to tell people when I get back." It's tough to tell people nothing without lying. It's tough to tell people to mind their own business, when they are just asking out of concern.

So Mr. PH came in today, asked me if I heard anything about Scotty, and when I said no, he asked if I knew Scotty's address so he can send a card. He wants to send Scotty a card because he's been gone for so long, without explanation. I do know Scotty's address, but only because I just asked his wife for it on Friday to invite her to a jewelry party. But I don't know. Scotty told me that his therapist and he have decided that one of the triggers for his illness is work, so I don't know how much interaction he wants with people from work. So a card doesn't sound so bad, but, it's not really my place to give out his address to the nut jobs we work with, is it? And in all honesty, while I have been to his house several times before, I don't know his address, and only have it by chance. So when I told Mr. PH that I don't have it, and suggested he ask our boss for it (let our boss handle this. He knows I know what's going on, he knows what's going on, and while people come to be constantly and ask, no one ever goes to him). Mr. PH flat our accuses me of lying. Which I am. BUT ONLY because I just got the address, and because of the circumstances. Then he asks me for his home e-mail. Honestly, I don't know that. Whenever I talk to him, I just call him. He accuses me of lying then too, saying that I must know if because I correspond with his wife over e-mail. I point out that he is right, but that I e-mail her at work. Not at home. So he asks if I will send her an e-mail asking for their address so he can send Scotty a card.

Jeez. Does this guy ever give up? Yes, I know, he's trying to be nice. But damn, ever heard of www.411.com? Or maybe a phone book?

So I e-mail awesome wife. Tell her Mr. PH wants to send a card, wants address, should I give it to him. I offer to call her husband at home and ask him directly if she prefers I do that, but, honestly, I hate to bother him with work stuff.

Does anyone have any suggestions on how I can continue answering the concerned/nosy questions at work, still be polite, not lie, but not give up anything private for my friend? I figure 'He's sick' is true, but I've used that a lot, and now people are starting to say things like "Jesus, he's been gone almost 7 weeks, what's wrong with him?" "Is it serious?" "Is he dying?" I want to answer in a way that won't freak people out, offend them, or tell them anything. And make them stop asking me.

What should I do?

Uh-oh, Grandma's crazy.

2006-03-22T13:58:00.000-05:00

My great grandma (grandpa's step-mother, but since his biological mom died super young, she's the only grandma we ever knew on that side of the family) is really old. Like 93 I think. Maybe 92. Either way, really old.

Since I've been pregnant, I guess I am now finally part of the 'grown-up's club', so grandma calls to talk to me once in a while, and I guess now because I'm a 'grown up' she says the f word in front of me a lot, which doesn't offend me, but is really weird because I've never heard her say it before, and honestly, I wouldn't have imagined that she knew any swear words, because it seems like they would have all been invented after she was already old.

Anyhow, she left me a voicemail today, and it went like this:

"Hi Honey. I just wanted to let you know, that I'm not going to be able to get my nails done, because I have company coming. I will talk to you again soon. Love you! "

Hmmm. Just a mis-dialed number, and she loves the women who do her nails at the nail place? Or grandma's losing it.

Because a call to great grandma guarantees a 45 minute phone call, I called my mom to get her take. The consensus: she's losing it.

But I will call her later, when I am out of work, to let her know I got her message. And I love her too. And that I'm sorry to hear about her nails, but happy that she is having company. And hope she called the nail salon if she had a nail appointment to cancel. Something like that.

Sometimes, it must suck to get old, other times, it must be pure bliss.

Hahahahahaha!

2006-03-22T09:41:00.000-05:00

What a fantastic mood I am in today! Here's the facts:

1. Over the weekend, my friend Christie came over and showed me the video of her very easy and fantastic vaginal delivery of her son being born. It was fantastic, not scary, and actually a little amusing at times, as she told me it would be. What a wonderful thing for nervous mothers to be. I think she should sell it to us nervous folks.

2. I dreamt last night that we had a girl. She was perfect and little and I'm pretty sure born wearing a little pink dress with flowers and matching panties that fit right over her diaper that had ruffles on the butt. She had kind of a lot of really dark hair, and she opened her eyes a lot and had brown eyes (which is an extremely good possibility, since both Kevin and I have brown eyes). We named her Natasha.

3. I talked to my mom today, and she told me that she dreamt last night that my Grandma (who died a few years ago) and her were driving down to see me because I was having the baby. Grandma had a flyer from Kohl's, and they were selling baby blankets with lambs on them, and Grandma was insistent that they could absolutely go no further until they got to a Kohl's, and bought said advertised lamb covered baby blanket for the baby.

Isn't that fantastic? I'm pretty sure my Grandma knows I am pregnant. Actually, since she's in heaven and probably has an in with God, she probably knows what it is:)

4. My mom wants to know what crib we want, because she wants to buy it. It starts to feel a little more real everyday.

5. I'm starting to have a lot of weird sensations in my lower abdomen. A little cramping, which I think is due to my uterus growing, which my OB said would happen a lot during trimester 2, and a lot of pressure around my pubic bone sometimes. Nothing serious or painful, no bleeding, just mild menstrual like cramps, and a little pressure, like something's pushing down a bit by my pubic bone.

Anyone think that sounds normal so I don't have to call my OB? I think it's normal, like I said--no bleeding, and not persistent pain or anything. Slightly concerned, but just trying to tell myself it's the baby's way of making sure I know it's there, since I can't feel it move yet.

Calling Switzerland?

2006-03-21T15:11:00.000-05:00

I need to call Switzerland, because one of my dear dear friends lives there. And I need to tell him I'm knocked up, because I love him and I know he would be excited for me!

I just don't know the cheapest way to call Switzerland. Anyone regularly call other countries? I don't. I would take your advice.

Ahhh, that's better!

2006-03-17T16:54:00.000-05:00

Doesn't this look like a nice place for Babypants to be born?

Reading about this place eases my mind and spirit a lot. It sounds so much less scary.

I called and made an appointment for an orientation.

Check it out!
http://www.thebirthcenter.com/

Chunky monkey--I saw several comments from you! Welcome to my blog, and thank you for your kind comments! I really appreciate your advice.

Incidentally

2006-03-16T15:41:00.000-05:00

I went home at lunch today, and my National League of Nursing (NLN) Nursing entrance exam test score was back--I got a 98%! Woohoo!

Surely, you must be joking.....no, I'm not, and stop calling me Shirley.

2006-03-15T14:54:00.000-05:00

For the first time today, I felt something new regarding my impending baby delivery--it was excitement, it wasn't exhaustion, it wasn't glee--it was fear.

Amazingly, I haven't been too worried about the actual giving birth. I figure hundreds of thousands of women around the world do it everyday, and if they can all do it, why shouldn't I be able to do it?

But then I read this thing, where these women told horror stories about birth-giving, words I didn't know before or fully understand like back labor, labor down, and descriptions of pain I never considered before, including pain so horrific that women lost control of their bodily functions and pooped all over the delivery room floor.

Now come on people, that's a lot of pain. I've never felt pain so bad that I actually lost control of my bodily functions. That's a whole new level of pain. I didn't know it was that bad.

I used to think that a vaginal delivery was what I wanted, and that it was better for everyone involved. But now, I don't know. My mom spent a long time on the phone convincing me to ignore the scary stuff, stop reading it, and that a vaginal delivery was STILL better, for both mom and baby, and that vaginal deliveries encourage your milk to come in, and they encourage the baby to start breathing on their own, and that you heal a lot faster from a vaginal delivery.

Incidentally, one woman said that she stood for days after her vaginal birth, because her tearing and swollen genital area made it too painful to sit down.

Then my mom assured me that I would be fine, and that she was fine, and that she had back labor, and it was no big deal. She said she just had my dad push on her back during the contractions to help with the pain, and then it was all over with and she had a baby. And not to worry about the tearing and the awfulness, because if I have an episiotomy, it'll be fine, I won't tear. Then she told me that I had nothing to worry about really, because people like her and like me, we were BORN to give birth, nice big bone structures, and high tolerances for pain, and she knows I have a high pain tolerance, so she suspects that even if there is pain, I'll do just fine. She also suggested that there's not a lot of pain, just mostly really strong pressure.

Yeah, really strong pressure that results in loss of control of bodily functions. Awesome.

I asked her why she never mentioned back labor before--and she told me that it just wasn't even worth mentioning, because it was no big deal. Then she told me that if possible, unless there is something wrong with the baby, I should not have a c-section. She told me that if everything is progressing well, it's just taking a long time, then the best thing to do is just wait. If there is something wrong and I have to have a c-section, then that's what will have to happen. But honestly, she says vaginal delivery is really the best.

There were no scary stories about c-sections, fyi. At least not any so horrifying that they are burned into my mind. Not yet, anyhow.

Then she told me that because I work out a lot, that my labor will probably be a piece of cake, because she heard that women who exercise or are in really good shape have really easy labor and deliveries.

I read in another book that that doesn't make a difference, but ok.

Anyhow, just to get her to stop talking about it, I told her she convinced me and I feel better, thanks.

But I really just feel scared. I guess it's good that I know now, right? Does anyone have any words of advice that aren't scary, or refute any of the scariness I mentioned? I would love someone to say "It's all lies! All that bad stuff, all lies!"

My mom didn't actually say it was all lies.

Just can't get enough

2006-03-08T10:56:00.000-05:00

I feel great. I have felt great for the past three days. Three solid days of feeling great. Rock on!

I would feel even greater if I could quench this craving for fresh pineapple and kiwi fruit.

Now I read that if you crave citrus fruits, you are having a girl, and if you crave meats, you are having a boy. Do fresh pineapple and kiwi constitute citrus fruits? Not canned pineapple, because now that my super-powered tastebuds are working to their full effect, I can taste the metal in the can. In fact, I can taste the metal in the can from canned chicken soup, canned vegetables--actually, anything that comes in a can, I taste metal. And fried fast food all tastes like fish. Except McDonald's french fries, they still taste like awesome deliciousness. I seem to have developed food aversions to chicken and broccoli, I wish I could develop one to McDonald's french fries.

At least I'm not craving them.

It's probably OK that I'm craving pineapple and kiwi. There are a lot of worse things out there to crave.

I talked to my mom the other day, and I told her how I am craving these things. She said "Boy, I think I'm having sympathy cravings for you!" Haha. Isn't that funny? While we both got a good laugh out of it, and neither of us think that's really possible, she told me how she has craved oranges in the worst way for the past couple of weeks, in a way that she hasn't craved them since she was pregnant. I guess through all her pregnancies, she craved oranges. Then it slowly evolved into a craving for oranges and pickles together. I guess while pregnant she actually ate those things together sometimes. But now the thought of it makes her feel ill. Isn't that funny?

Anyway, she's in Michigan, downing oranges like there is no tomorrow, and here in Delaware, pineapple and kiwi make up a lot of my snacks and components of many meals. Haha.

I read something that sometimes pregnant women crave things that aren't food--like chalk, or laundry detergent. What the? Melissa, do you know anything about that?

Also Melissa, I tried to e-mail you, I used your first, middle, and last inital, the numbers you gave, but I guess I kept getting the university wrong. I even looked up university hospitals in NYC, and couldn't find one I didn't try. Hmm.

I'll call you with my address.

Hope everyone is well:) Anyone know the deal with cravings?

Let's take a poll, does anyone else think this blows?

2006-03-06T10:36:00.000-05:00

I talked to my friend Terry from back home. Just for like 2 minutes. His wife e-mailed him, and told him that Kevin's ex-girlfriend (some of you saw her at the wedding, Debbie--and yes, I know, my husband's ex-girlfriend was at our wedding, I am a freaking saint and allowed her to come because she's the best friend of my sister in law, and she desperately wanted her to come) heard he is coming home Thursday night-alone, I am staying here- and is trying to organize a little group night out to welcome Kevin back for the weekend.

Kevin is trying to get a job back home, and he made it to the next rounds, which is a test. He has to take a test. It's Friday morning, and so we are shelling out the bucks for him to go home Thursday night to take this test Friday morning. Cross your fingers for him, say a prayer, whatever, please, I miss my family and want them to be a part of the baby's life.

My friend Jessica and her husband Jeff made plans to come visit this weekend, and then just at the end of last week, we found out that Kevin made it to the next round and has to take this test this Friday. I am staying here to hang out with Jessica and Jeff. Kevin is flying back here Saturday night.

So apparently, because Kevin is coming home alone, his ex girlfriend Debbie is trying to put together a little 'thing' for him, and wants to include the people renting his house (my sister's in law sister and her husband), my sister in law Alison and Kevin's brother Matt, and Terry and his wife.

When I am home, they NEVER do stuff like this. The last time they did something like this, was the night before Thanksgiving, 2003, when I had first moved out here and Kevin was supposed to pick me up at DTW Thanksgiving morning, and his ex-girlfriend threw him a going away party because after Thanksgiving, he was flying back to Delaware with me. They got him so drunk, that he couldn't come pick me up the next morning, his dad had to do it. Kevin came with him, but he was hung over all day and miserable. And that was the first time I saw him in like 3 weeks.

The thing is, Debbie and him aren't friends. They never talk to each other. The only time she wants to hang out with him is when I'm not around. But I expect this from her. She is crazy I guess, and desperately wants him back. I am angry at everyone else. I am angry at my sister in law and brother in law. I am angry at Terry's wife. Terry said he's not going, and he told his wife that he doesn't think it's right that Debbie plan this party type thing for him when I'm not there, that it's just weird.

I realize that Debbie is their friend. But she's not his friend, and she's not my friend. And even though they are probably closer to her than to me, I can't help but them encouraging this type of weird behavior is disrespectful to our marriage. OK, so she is their friend--but you know what, I have never been anything but nice to them. I have tried to be their friend, even when they have crapped all over me and treated me like dirt. I have been an aunt to Matt and Alison's child--never forgetting a birthday, and always making an effort to do special things for him. We have let Alison's sister and her husband live in the house we have in Bay City and not pay rent for months because we know they don't have jobs. I have remembered anniversaries. I have been kind, I have been a 'good' member of the family, but most of all, I have been married to Kevin for over a year, and with him now for 3 years. Clearly, we love each other and take care of each other. Clearly, he is happy being with me. So even if I weren't to expect some level of respect on behalf of myself because I have been a decent human being, I would most definitely expect some respect on Kevin's behalf, because he is their family, he is their friend, and it's his marriage they aren't respecting as well. Out of respect for Kevin, I think they should say "Debbie, I don't think that's such a great idea. I mean if we want to get together and do something like that, why don't we wait till Elliottpreciouspants is here. Maybe we should just let the guys have a guys night out this time." Or better yet, "You know, Kevin's married now, and he seems like he's happily married, and they are even expecting a child. I know that you really cared about him, but, maybe it's time to let that go."

I'm not worried about Kevin cheating on me. He doesn't even like her, in fact, truth be told, he never really did. He used her for sex a few times. That's about it. But I feel hurt that all of his family and friends (or at least so many of them) are so comfortable disregarding our relationship.

Do I have any support here?

Oh, and by the way, with my current unhappiness of the situation, the list of people not allowed to hold the baby continues to grow...

Feeling better today....except for the gagging.

2006-03-02T09:55:00.000-05:00

Hi ladies,

Man, am I ever not feeling so crabby today! Woo! It' pouring outsides, but I feel like for me, the cloud has lifted. I went to the pool last night, took a test, went to bed, and boy, do I ever feel better.

I dreamt about buying cute little baby clothes at Gymboree, that were all on sale.

Melissa, I need to ask you something. I use Rhinocort AQ for my sinuses. It's a nasal spray. My primary care dr and my ob-gyn dr both say it's ok for me to continue using it through my pregnancy. I would feel a lot better if I heard from YOU though that I could still use it through my pregnancy....

What do you guys think of the name Susanna? Or maybe Suzanna? I don't know the spelling, I just think the name Susanna Mae would sound really nice on a baby girl wearing a sundress and a bonnet. Really girly. Really cute, but not gross stripper name cute, like Cookie or something. I guess that's not actually cute then, if it's a gross stripper name. I don't know. Kevin seems to not know what names are the ones that will destine our daughter for stripper-dom.

What do you guys think? Before I suggest it to Kevin? After all, I did tell him I was never naming the baby again.....I'll bet he'll let me off the hook on that one.

I also want to give a shout out to Kari, who I haven't heard from in a long time. What up yo?

A special kind of bitchy

2006-02-27T16:21:00.000-05:00

That's what I'm feeling right now. On the cusp of entering my tenth week (tomorrow morning begins week 10), I am feeling a exceptionally crabby. I've heard some pregnant women say that they have grown increasingly frustrated with their husbands while pregnant, and well, I feel them. Don't get me wrong, I love Kevin, and seriously, overall he's been pretty awesome. But sometimes.....well, this weekend hasn't been particularily awesome. Especially because I spent most of it feeling like I was going to puke. All I can tell you, is that babypants is on MY side. I know this. I know it to the very depths of my soul. I know that when the baby is actually born, that babies don't choose sides. But considering my very blood is providing life for babypants right now, right now, it sides with me. Let me tell you what makes us angry at the unsuspecting daddy.

1. I suggested a name for the baby, and he made fun of it. He thought he was being cute. He wasn't, he just made us cry. So now I am never naming the baby again, or at least I'm not telling him what the name will be (yes, I know, I will give this up in a day or so, but right now, just let me say I'm never naming babypants again, because it makes me feel better)

2. Well, we aren't exactly where we would like to be financially. We keep saying once the house in Michigan sells, and we aren't making that extra $745 a month payment, in addition to our $940 a month rent, things will get better. But it's been two years. Yes, we have renters, but they don't always feel like paying us money, and they are family 'friends', so, it's a tough situation (that babypants and I never wanted to get into to start with, for the record). So since we took such a huge loss when my house sold, we ended up getting a lot of money back for taxes. Sweet. I don't get paid maternity leave, and we got enough to cover my salary for 3 months. I can take 3 months off when the baby is born, thank you taxes. Kevin and I agreed on this, and then he was thinking of other ways to spend the money! Stop doing that!

3. We argued about baby furniture. My brother and my sister in law have offered me all their baby stuff from my niece and nephew. I graciously accepted whatever they would like to give. So Kevin tells me that his mom told him, that she is buying us a dresser/changing tables, because my mom is buying a crib, because that's what they ALWAYS do in their family. I was like wow that's really nice of her. A few problems: 1. If brother and his wife are giving us all their stuff, and that includes crib and changing table, we are taking that, because it's free, and his mom is free to get us anything else she would like that we need, if she so wishes. 2. What the--? My mom is buying us a crib?? First I've heard of that. 3. What's this 'ALWAYS' crap? His mom always buys dressers or changing tables for everyone she's ever known that has had a baby?

The answer to that is no, that is just what she 'usually' gets for her children when they have babies. So that means, considering that two of her sons have already had babies, that she has purchased a dresser/changing table 2 times. Not 50. Not 100. 2 times. Does that seriously constitute 'always' or 'usually'? Apparently she bought that, and her daughter in law's mothers bought cribs, so Kevin's mom decided that this would work in our situation as well, because that's what she 'usually' and 'always' does.

This went down a bad road.

Anytime you get anywhere close to suggesting Kevin's mom might not be doing something perfectly, he gets upset. My suggesting that we may not need a dresser, implies that his mom isn't right about getting a dresser, therefore upsetting him A LOT. After a few years together, I think I have this figured out, but that never stops me from walking into this mess. I guess I am a glutton for punishment, or retarded, I don't know. I should just learn to let things go when it comes to his mom, and let her constantly do what she wants, but you all know that's just not me. No matter how politely I suggest an alternative course of action, he's upset. I think the reason for this is that Kevin's life has been a constant attempt to win his parent's love and approval, and those are things they have never given to him. He sees his siblings get it all the time, even his sisters in law, but he never does. So he doesn't want to rock the boat, because if his love and his approval might finally be coming, then he doesn't want to miss it.

Look at how much parents screw up their kids!!

Anyhow, enough about my frustrations with the man I love. We can all see who my real frustrations are with.

OK, last time I tried to post, I lost everything. Let me try now.

I cried at Red Lobster this weekend....and other pregnant hormonal moments.

2006-02-13T16:33:00.000-05:00

Oh my God, I just wrote the longest post ever, for about the past hour, and it's not here......

Everybody loves you when you're pregnant-

2006-02-08T11:56:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, I wake up, feel angry because I am tired, and think I'm going to puke.

I lay in bed, and wish I had asked Kevin to grab a sleeve of saltines and leave them by the bed before he left an hour earlier.

I think about maybe if I can get up and eat something, anything, I'll feel better. Get some breakfast on my stomache. That's what they all say, it's the empty stomache that makes you feel like you are going to puke....

but the thought of just about everything makes me feel like I'm going to lose it any second. So I try to think about eating breakfast, but NOT think about any food.

After I manage to get up, I go into the kitchen to see what I can eat that will prevent my vomitting. Unfortunately, I then discover that the smell of everything also makes me want to vomit.

So sometimes, being knocked up isn't as awesome as I thought it was going to be. People make you think that it's all looking adorable in maternity clothes and feeling the baby kick, and getting ultrasounds and then finding out you are having twins or something cool like that!

But it actually involves a lot of feeling sick, tired, and kinda grumpy. I haven't even gotten to experience all the cool stuff yet. But our first ultra sound is tonight, so, yippee skippy! We are hoping they give us a picture. Well, I am hoping also that not only do we get a picture, but that everything is all right, too. How devastated would I be if we go to the ultra sound, all excited, and they are like "Sorry, there is no heartbeat." I don't think I could deal with that, so it probably won't happen. But still. I can't help but worry.

NOT that I would trade it for the world.....I guess I just thought that the whole nausea and morning sickness thing wasn't going to happen to me.

Oh, and your boobs, they really, really hurt. A lot. A lot a lot. But sleeping with a bra on helps.

And then when you are actually feeling good--like when your boobs don't hurt, and you feel feelings of hunger instead of nausea, and you aren't so tired you could pass out at any given moment, you think "God, is something wrong? Why do I feel so good? Is something wrong with the baby???"

I feel pretty fantastic today. Remarkably fantastic. I hope everything goes well at the ultra sound tonight.

Anyhow. The awesome truth is, everyone loves you when you are pregnant. Since finding out I am pregnant, I have received phone calls or congratulations and how are you feeling? I have received cards. I have received a few gifts. Word has slowly filtered out here at work. Apparently I am the first person here to have a child in 14 or 17 years or something, so people are very excited about it. When I walk in the door, people are like "Hey! How are you feeling today? Wow, you look good! " or, "How are the two of you today?" or "How's Mr. or Mrs. Babypants?" Some of my coworkers have even picked up things for the baby. One of them junk-picked a carseat from her neighbor that her neighbor was apparently throwing away. Seriously, it's the thought that counts. I am also getting lots of advice, like "You should be careful around xylenes!" And "Why are you still working in the lab? You shouldn't be working in the lab?" and "Oh wow, you are eating mexican? Doesn't that bother the baby?" and "You should be careful to avoid stress, because I read that babies that are exposed to stress while in the womb grow up to be transexuals."

I think that the people that I work with feel like it's not just my baby, or Kevin's baby, it's theirs, too. I never knew I was so well liked here, it's got to be because I am pregnant.

And on top of it all, my hormones are going totally nutso.

On the flip side, I haven't had a single migraine since getting pregnant. I used to suffer from then regularly, at LEAST one a week. And since being pregnant, none. That's awesome.

This is my life right now. I am so thankful to get to experience all this. While not all of it is awesome, I am still loving every minute. Even those that I feel like I am going to puke. Can you believe that I am actually growing a human being inside my body? That's so science fiction.

Babypants in the house!

2006-02-02T13:46:00.000-05:00

Hello all!

I had my first prenatal appointment yesterday. I thought it might be scary and the doctor might yell at me for being too fat and pregnant. But she didn't. She actually wasn't even the doctor. She was the nurse practitioner.

So maybe the doctor will yell at me when I see her for my next appointment March 9th.....

But anyhow, I digress. There was nothing scary there! She is testing me for a bunch of std's and stuff (which I guess is standard she says...) and took some little smear from my cervix, looked at it for infection, and found none. She asked me a bunch of questions that I don't know how they were even important to this topic, like, what religion are you, and what religion is your husband. She asked if Mr. Babypants would want to be circumcised, and she asked if I was going to nurse. She FELT my uterus, and determined that the baby is most likely 6 weeks along, as I expected. She felt my boobs too, which sucked a little because they were really sore.

My due date is September 26th. So far.

My first ultrasound is scheduled for Wednesday! Yeah!

She gave me a bag full of parenting magazines and prenatal vitamin samples, and all these pamphlets that I haven't looked at. And she gave me a book called "While Waiting" or something like that. She told me that if I'm going to read a book, please let it be this one. Hmm.

Either way, it was fun and exciting and so far, everything is fine!

I stopped home after my appointment because I wanted to get a sweater (and a sandwich, it was lunchtime...) and there was a package at my door from my mom! I opened it, and there were a bunch of books in there from when she was pregnant, that she is giving to me! Name books, week by week 1970's diary books, and, THE SAME BOOK THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE GAVE ME!

Isn't that crazy? I guess giving birth can't have changed so much, huh? They are doing it the same as they were before, I guess. Of course, my book is a 3rd edition and mom's is a first....

But the BEST part--she sent presents! Wrapped in baby paper! Babypants was so excited about it's first gifts! There were two of them, with a card for me and my baby's daddy.

The card was so nice:) Babypants grandma and grandpa are so excited for it to be born. I opened the presents for Babypants (remember, Babypants just has 'paddle buds', not arms or legs yet) and they were baby clothes! An outfit for a baby boy, and an outfit for a baby girl!

Awww!

Isn't this exciting?:) A baby! Babypants can't wait to be born, either! But we don't want it to rush it....no coming out until it's done.

Did you know....

2006-01-31T13:57:00.000-05:00

At 6 weeks, a baby is the size of a lentil bean? You can see dark spots on it's huge head where eyes and a nose would be, and little indentations on the sides of the head where ears will form?

And that the heart is beating around 100-130 beats per minute? Did you know that limbs are forming, and even though they just look like stubs with paddles, they are starting to move around now, and fingers and toes will form soon?

Isn't that awesome?

Right now, the baby would be referred to as something generic--like "Babypants"--because we wouldn't know if it was a boy or girl, but it would definitely be a baby and after it's born it will definitely sometimes wear pants, whether it's a girl or a boy.

But either way, it's going to be so darn cute.

I have a joke for you:

me: knock-knock
you: who's there?
me: I'm pregnant!
you: What?
me: I'm pregnant!!
you: Yeah! That's wonderful! Congratulations!

I didn't plan to tell you yet. I planned to wait the 3 months they tell you that you are supposed to wait. And it's only 6 weeks. But come on, I've held out for 2 weeks! That's pretty good. Do you know how hard it was to wait? Super hard.

I'm not proving that I am very good at waiting, because I've told almost everyone....

So cross your fingers, say a prayer, whatever it is that you do--please do it, and hope that everything is all right.

I have my first prenatal appointment tomorrow and find out how far along I am. I am very nervous, and very excited.

I have been reading some awful books that have me pretty nervous, one is called my plus sized pregnancy, and one is called what to expect when you're expecting, and well, both of them have caused me to be afraid of things that I never thought to be afraid of before, and that's it.

Plus, I've been having nutso dreams. I dreamt the other night that the rabbits turned into other animals, and I couldn't tell, and then I dreamt that my mother in law sold me to human traffickers in Switzerland.

I think it's the hormones.

What do you think?

Either way, Babypants and I are doing fine so far. We've been a little nauseated, and a little tired, but mostly just ecstatic that I am pregnant. Kevin is ecstatic too. Although he's a little worried that he won't get to hold Babypants when it's born. Well, he will, but I get to hold Babypants more, because I threw up the other night a few times, and barely slept because I was so nauseated. I win.

Side Ponytail

2006-01-16T08:04:00.000-05:00

Went to a group meeting at work last week, where a girl wore a SIDE PONYTAIL. Not ok. Even as socially dysfunctional chemists, we should know that. EVERYONE should know that.

Happy Christmas= Merry Christmas, but in Scottish.

2005-12-22T06:57:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas everyone! And Happy New Year when we get to it, too!

Don't worry about too much to drink, don't worry about too many Christmas cookies, don't worry about people liking your gifts/forgetting your gift, whatever.

The thing is, is that it's about togetherness. You have the rest of the year to not order the extra margarita, the rest of the year to turn away your great aunt's famous cookies.

Life is short, and this time of year, it's about being together. It's about surrounding yourselves with the people that you love and that love you, and celebrating that togetherness and that love. And for those Christian readers out there, yes, of course, it celebrates the birth of Jesus. But what better way to celebrate that than to reach out to the people you love, and enjoy their company while you are both on earth to enjoy it!

Live it up. Like I said, life is short, and you probably in all reality are only going to live to be 80-90 already, giving you really only 80-90 christmases in your whole lifetime. That's less than 100, people! And if you are my age, you only have around 50-60 of them left....

And the people you love (mom, grandpa, etc)--well, you have even less christmases to be with them.....

(Oh crap, now I'm going to make myself all sad and cry. Look at how our best intentions fail!)

The point is, don't let anything silly get in the way of your holiday. I know it's hectic, I know you are probably worrying about getting from place to place for all the festivities, but instead of the mindset of "wow, I'm frazzled and this sucks. I'm cold, I'm sick of eggnog, I'm tired, and I'd love to just go and sit and watch TV and rest for a while", change it so that you don't dread the holiday chaos, but welcome it. You only have a few more times to do it.

I remember once, when I was young. I don't remember how old I was, but sometime under age 9. My parents used to take us to bed and tuck us in each night. We thought it was a special treat when my Dad tucked us in, because he worked out of town a lot and wasn't home all the time. So when he was home, he would tuck us in, and it was great. Well he tucked us in one Christmas night, and he used to make a big show of tucking all our covers around our bodies so we couldn't move our arms and legs and would holler "No! Dad! No! I can't move!" and we would of course be laughing, and he would say "Well you told me to tuck you in..."

anyways, I digress.....

Christmas night one year, he tucked me in. And then he kneeled down at the end of my bed, propped his chin up under his elbows, and asked me "Well, did you have the perfect Christmas? Was there anything that you wanted that Santa didn't bring?" I told him yes, my Christmas was perfect, and no, Santa remembered EVERYTHING.

I think about that moment a lot, especially at Christmas, when I see people crowding into toy stores, buying cart loads of dolls and legos and video games. Families aren't perfect. Parents aren't perfect. But it's examples like that, memories like that, that remind us that the point is, look how much they love us. Not because they buy a gazillion toys, not because they spend thousands of dollars, but look how hard they try to make us happy!! It really is the thought that counts. I think the fact that I told my dad that year that my Christmas was perfect--I think that made HIS Christmas perfect, too.

Enjoy it people, it won't be here forever. Merry Christmas. And to my loyal lady readers--I love you gals:) I hope you all have wonderful, spectacular, supercalafragilistic-expialadoshes holidays.

Let's take a peek at Chloe!

2005-12-06T00:07:00.000-05:00

Hmm, let's try this again...

Hey! One worked! OK, let's try another one....

OK sweet. Two worked. Whew!

Isn't she a pretty girl? And now for good measure: a picture of my very first home-made pie crust. Made my first pie without my mom's help for Thanksgiving this year. Raspberry! It looked so pretty, I had to take a picture!

Have a good night folks:) Hope you enjoy the pictures!

What Sareet wants, she gets!

Meet the bunnies....

2005-12-05T23:48:00.000-05:00

Here they are! I took some pictures so you can get to know them a little better....

First up is Cocoa.

Isn't she a gorgeous girl? She refused to come out of her cage for her photo op, because she fears absolutely everything. I did manage to get two of her though:

Next I will introduce you to my little troublemaker, Mr. Bandit.

Bandit was feeling especially photogenic, so I have a few of him:

So there he is. See? He most certainly does NOT look posessed by the devil. I told you that was crazy-talk.

I took a few pictures of Chloe as well, who was also feeling outgoing and photogenic.

Hmm. Ok. Blogger seems to not want to let me post the pictures of Chloe. Maybe I will publish this post, and try another with pictures of her in it. But there are plenty of cute pictures for you to look at here, that's for sure:)

A post about the bunnies

2005-12-02T13:45:00.000-05:00

Bandit loves me. Oh does he ever love me. When I lay on the floor in our living room, he comes over to me and rubs his head against my head, my hands--anything he can. Until I pet him on his head, which he loves. He loves me. When I sit on the couch and watch TV or study, he hops up next to me and chews up my syllabus, or my notes, whatever I leave there, into tiny shreds. I know I should stop him, but, he seems really happy while he's destroying my stuff, so, I let him. And it won't hurt him to shred up some paper. At least it's giving the carpet a break.

And Cocoa--she fears me. It's so strange how my hand reaching into their cage to refill their food dish appears to Bandit to be the hand of a loving and benevolent god, whereas my hand appears to Cocoa as that of a fierce angry god who might kill her just for the pleasure of watching her die a slow painful death.

So when I put my hand in their cage, Bandit runs to me to put his paws up on my wrist and pull my hand in deeper so he can nuzzle it, and Cocoa runs to the corner, afraid for her life. Acting like I make a habit of hurting her or something. It must really suck to be a rabbit sometimes, and needlessly fear your owner for years on end.

Chloe, the third, is a different story altogether. Her first love: Kevin. Her dad. She loves him. She likes to just lay really still by his feet, and hope he will notice her there and rub her head with his toes. If he doesn't notice her and he moves away, them she will follow him and stop right by his feet again. Her second love: laying on top of newspapers and magazines. She will even go as far as to pull them down from the coffee table onto the floor, spread them out, shred them a little at the edges, and then lay on them. She loves to do that. She's crazy.

They are all crazy. Rascally rabbits. What would I do without them? I love those bunnies.

Think on this for a while.

2005-11-22T11:32:00.000-05:00

So I know this girl that I like very much. Her and her husband are in the process of a divorce. She is involved with a man now who is much older than her (Tom Cruise Katie Holmes style), who, in my mind, was sort of waiting in the wings for her marriage to fail. They were good 'friends', and then hooked up one time, and well, since her marriage wasn't that awesome, she decided to leave her husband, but NOT because she wanted to persue a relationship with the older guy--that's what she says, at least. So anyhow. Older guy, is a little less divorced than she is, but is actually beginning the process now. Older guy has been married to wife for like 16 years, has a 15 yo daughter with wife, and wife has a college aged daughter that he has been a father to the entire time they have been together. So there's some background.

Had a conversation with my friend today, because she's angry at old guy's wife. Old guy's wife is being a real pain about the divorce, doesn't want to get a divorce, being really mean and angry about it. And allowing daughters to be angry at their father too, instead of telling them not to be.

Well duh.

Of course, my friend claims that their marriage has been over for a long time, and can't figure out why she's fighting the divorce. She says the kids are very angry at their dad (old guy) for leaving their mom. Mom gave advice to college age daughter that she should still be nice to old guy, because after all, old guy is paying for her college still. But daughters are angry at him.

My friend thinks that's awful. I think that's just the way the cookie crumbles. Mom is right--daughter should be nice to father, and treat him with respect, if she wants him to keep paying the tuition. It sucks, but it's reality. She reads old guy's e-mail, and daughter told him in an e-mail that she is so angry with him for leaving her mom, that she wants to punch him in the face.

My friend thinks that's just terrible, and that one should never ever say something like that or feel that way about their father.

I told her that obviously I don't know any of them, but, it seems to me that his daughters are just angry about the breakup, and that they are taking their anger out on their dad because he's the one initiating the divorce. Looks pretty obvious to me, right?

My friend thinks that it's still wrong, and they should be angry at their mom too, because she did things that made him want a divorce, like make him take the trash out and spend his money. They should also be angry at mom because she's already posted her profile online with thoughts of dating again, which is worse, because their dad isn't dating anyone else yet. And, mom has threatened suicide.

Well, I pointed out, that technically, if she is sleeping with their dad, and dating their dad, their dad is technically cheating on their mom. And mom probably suspects this, and it's not uncommon for jilted wives to threaten suicide. At least not in my experience.

She thinks that doesn't count, because they apparently don't know that old guy is seeing my friend. But I think that still counts.

Personally, I question whether or not that's true. Through my experiences, I think the wife always has an inkling when the husband is cheating, and I'll bet they know more than my friend thinks. But that's just my guess. And it seems to me, like kid always know the score. Me and my brothers always did.

This frustrates me. Because my friend is part of the homewrecker team. And I like her very much. But what she is doing--is just wrong. I'm not saying she is totally to blame, because obviously, the old guy is more to blame. It's his family that he is screwing up, he should be the one concerned with making it work out, not my friend. But since I have felt intense anger at both of my parents for things they have done during my dad's affair and stuff--and have told them some awful things I have felt and thought about them (ok, really, mostly just my dad)--I feel like I can understand where the daughters are coming from. So one told him she is so angry she wants to punch him in the face. Big deal. I told my dad, that I was so angry, and that he hadn't just lied to my mom and betrayed her, he had betrayed all of us, and lied to all of us, and ruined our family. I told him things like, "I love you dad, but basically, I don't believe anything you say". And meant it. And even though I love my dad still, and I really do feel like I have forgiven him--sometimes, when I talk to him, and he pays me a compliment or tells me he loves me, I think to myself "Right. You loved mom too, and you had sex with another woman. You loved my mom the way I love Kevin, and yet, you had sex with someone else, and you lied to all of us. How can I possibly know that you really mean what you say, when you could so easily lie to the person you are supposed to love, honor, and cherish forever?"

And then I instantly feel guilty. Because he's my dad. And I love him. And I forgive him. So where did all those awful thoughts come from??

Point is--if the old guy's daughters are angry with him for leaving their mom, they are allowed to be angry, and to say a few crappy things, because what he is doing is affecting their lives in a miserable way, and they can't do anything about it. And the truth is--let's just call a spade a spade- their dad's a cheater. If they are making him feel bad, that's good, because he should be feeling bad. He deserves to feel bad, because this is mostly his fault. I'm not saying he should stay with his wife if he's not happy, but deciding to leave your wife after you start nailing a girl 26 years younger than you, well, that's not the right way. He's changing the lives of his wife and daughters forever, and it can never be undone. I'm not saying it won't be OK again, but some things, you can never take back.

OK, am I right, or am I just jaded? I suspect I am mostly just jaded, because ever since my dad's affair, and watching it destroy my mom and hurt our whole family, well, I just seem to see things differently. Thoughts?

I think Kari was right....

2005-11-17T12:15:00.000-05:00

Just so you all know, I found a website the other day verifying what Kari said earlier--that American Dreams has in fact been cancelled.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!

How devastating! Especially since I have no idea what happened to Meg and Chris.....They rode off on a motorcycle together, and then, they were going to show us next season what happened.....Jack told her that if she leaves with that boy, to never come back, and then we saw her drive away.....so did he really take her with him, or did he just drop her back off at her house before going out to CA? What happened?

Jonathon Prince, you can't leave me this way! Evidently, Mr. Prince (I guess he's the guy who created the series) said in some interview that they are going to be showing one final episode that he taped at the end because he suspected it might get cancelled, that takes place three years later, wrapping up the series.

Well, that's all good, but....I just don't want it to end! Especially when I saw ads for a show called the Poseidon adventure or something--something about a big cruise ship that gets flipped upside down under the water??? What the?? Are they friggin kidding? They took American Dreams off, and this joke made it onto TV?

Jesus, NBC, can we say, WTF? OK so you lost Friends. And you put Donald Trump on for another retarded season. Did you really feel like you could afford to lose American Dreams?? And you know, I feel bad saying it, but heck, someone's got to, we all feel this way: so no more sparing your feelings--Joey's just not cutting it. So there. I said it. Did I hurt your feelings? Good. It's time for some tough love.

Bring back American Dreams. I even signed an online petition. SO there.

Shout out to Kari or Sareet....

2005-11-15T16:01:00.000-05:00

I need your help!

My mom is turning 50 this year, and we are throwing her a surprise party. Dad suggested "entertainment", and of course we all enthusiastically agreed. Do you guys know who you called to provide the "entertainment" for my bachelorette party last year??

And I'm not talking about Barb.....

I would like to use the same organization you went through last year, just because they were good and we don't know who else to call.

Doesn't my family rock??

Thanks!

F-ing scary, part deux

2005-11-09T09:26:00.000-05:00

You know when you really think about it, there's a lot of really scary things in this world. Some are really obvious, like horror movies and the like (see previous post), but others, well they are just those things that make you nervous. You know, the things that kind of jar your sense of what's right and wrong, and make you realize that yes, there really are people out there like that.

My brother in law and his wife came to visit this weekend, with their daughter. They have a 19 mo daughter, and she is adorable. Now the thing that's cool about family coming to visit you is that you get to have this one on one time to really get to know them. When you are in a big family situation, you don't always get that chance because there are so many people around. Now I knew that my new family in law was on the religious side, but I got to know a couple of them, and can we say, extremists?

It made me downright nervous. It's probably like fleas, you know? You see one flea on your dog, and that's supposed to mean that there are at least 25 that you don't see for every flea you do see. So that means, if you see one religious extremist, there are probably 25 of them holed up in a crazy church somewhere that you don't see.

Maybe that's not a very friendly analogy, but it's the only one I could think of that describes my feelings in the right way. When you are exposed to one way of thinking for a long time and not someone else's way of thinking, you forget that there are other thoughts and ideas than those that you know. So when you hear them, it startles you. Like for example, silly me, I guess I forgot that there are still people out there that think homosexuals are going to hell, and we need to warn them about that all the time. Oh. I didn't realize people still thought that. I guess I didn't realize that some people still think it's their god-given right to judge and harrass other people about their beliefs. OK, well, you might argue that the point of organized religion is to do just that. I would argue that it's not. So therefore, it surprises me to meet people that feel it is.

I think I have decided on my own personal definition of extremist. I think an extremist is one who fails to understand that other people have world views that don't neccessarily jive with their own, and that those world views may or may not be correct.

It must be such a relief to always just know in your head that you are right. I think all the time about the things I mull over. Here I am, always trying to guess the correct course of action, the thing that is right for me, for other people, and is just the right thing to do. I don't have all those answers--I don't always know the right answer. But my brother in law's wife does, and that must make her life so much easier, to always know what's right, and never have any self doubt. That must take an incredible burden off of your shoulders.

It makes me a little nervous though, to see an example of basically a colony of people who just 'know' they are right. It would be pretty f-ing scary if everyone started thinking that way. Can you even begin to imagine?

F-ing scary, that's what that is!

2005-10-31T15:07:00.000-05:00

So, Saturday night, Kevin and I were channel surfing (because we are old and married now, and that's what old and married people do on Saturday nights--ok ok, actually I was studying because I have a test) and we happened upon a TV show on E! called the 100 scariest movies. We saw the last 50.

I haven't slept well in days now, mind you. How terrifying! And they were just clips! Now growing up, I enjoyed my share of horror movies--for some unknown reason. I can't seem to remember why. But I did. When I was much younger (9-12 years) I used to BEG my dad to rent scary movies for me. One night, he came home with The Hills Have Eyes. I slept on my parents' bedroom floor for at least a week.

Then about a year ago, Kevin really really wanted to rent the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The new one. Well, I lost a few days of sleep there too, and I left the room for the scary gruesome parts.

I thought that the 100 scariest movies countdown would be okay, I really did. I was half studying, half watching, but some of those clips--I just can't get them out of my head, and they are terrifying me to no end--still. Let me tell you the ones that I can't make go away.

There are three that were especially horrifying. One was called The Wicker Man. It was about a cult of people on some island off of Scottland, that were reportedly going to do some human sacrifice, and some girl was missing. A cop goes there to find the girl, and we find out that there was never a missing girl, it was all a ruse to get this cop there, because he's in fact the sacrifice. So they build this huge man of wood (ie a wicker man) and put the cop in a cage in the man's chest, set it on fire, and then they all dance and sing around the burning thing while the guys burns up there to death, while he's shouting to God for help. Creepy.

OK, it gets even more creep, with one called The Last House on the Left. A group of bad guys rape and kill some girls. The clip they showed was a group of people holding a girl up in the woods while someone stabbed her so severely she was basically disembowelled. Ugh.

The the creepiest one that I can't make the images go away from, was one called The Audition. Ok, what I could gather was, guy is auditioning girls, hot girl comes to audition, somehow he ends up dating her and mutilated but alive in a sack on her floor, where she takes him out and brutally tortures him with big needles in his eyes and all over his body and stuff. Jesus. That was ranked #3.

Incidentally, Jaws was #1. I've never seen that.

But holy crap. These look like scary movies that I never want to see. Ever. I'm sorry I watched the clip show. Things like Nightmare on Elm street and stuff--those don't really scare me, because they are FAKE. Kevin keeps saying "They're just movies". But they COULD HAPPEN. Which makes them REALLY SCARY. People are sick. And these things COULD HAPPEN. I mean, someone thought of it--they made a movie about it, right?? How do I make this go away?
I'm tired.

Obsessed with my own blog

2005-10-28T15:02:00.000-05:00

I maybe shouldn't have put all those pictures of my new baby niece up, because now, every few minutes, I keep logging in to look at how cute she is. Very distracting. I love the one of her with her eyes open when she's looking at you like "Quit making me pose for these pictures". And I love the one where she is looking RIGHT at you, like she's thinking "Hi, I'm Sophia! I can't wait to meet you, Aunt Elliottpreciouspants!". And then I love the one where she's hanging out with her brother, and he's looking all disgusted at the prospect of sharing his dad with this girl. Oh! And I like the one where she is bonding with her mom. Awww. And the ones where she is bonding with her Uncle Cha-chi, and her grandma and her grandpa. Awww. And I love the one where Ben is counting her toes!!! Oh! How precious!

*sigh*. I should probably do my expense report. I really want to get it done before I leave today. My toe is feeling pretty good, and I plan to hit the gym before I go home. My super awesome step teacher, Mark, is teaching a power hour class at 6, and I plan to attend it. If it hurts my toe, well, then I will just lift weights. Really the only place the toe hurts is where he gave me the shots. Those needle stick sites are really black and blue and a little swollen.

I think I will talk Kevin into coming to the gym with me. He'll probably whine, but you know--it's good for him. I want to keep him around for a few years, and with his love of watching football on TV, drinking beer, eating hot wings from hooters, and also eating reese's peanut butter cups and doritos by the pound, he needs more than sex to keep him in shape.

By the way, sex doesn't burn the calories that everyone claims it does. I have the bodybugg thing now, and I see how many calories sex burns. Honestly, unless other people are having sex while jogging on treadmills or something--I was unpleasantly surprised at how many calories sex burns. You burn more cleaning the bathtub.

She sees you!

2005-10-27T13:40:00.000-05:00

She sees you, cause her eyes are open!

What an adorable little princess...

2005-10-27T13:30:00.000-05:00

Ben's counting Sophia's toes!!! Aww! That's all I can say when I see these pics, is awww, and I wish I was there to share the joy.

I think this is one of my favorite pictures of Ben. Look at that face! Clearly the face of a boy who thinks girls are very yucky. Awww, he is so cute. Oh, and the other guy--that's my brother, Ben and Sophia's dad:)

Proud Grandpa with his new granddaughter!!

Sophia with her mom! And Uncle Cha-chi!

2005-10-27T13:09:00.000-05:00

Aww, Uncle Cha-chi holding the new precious princess baby!

There's the proud mommy! She looks tired too. I guess it's a lot of work carrying a child for 9 months, and then birthing it.

Sophia and her Grandma!

2005-10-27T13:02:00.000-05:00