Wednesday, May 28, 2008

32 Weeks

32 Weeks, things are moving along. Me, I am mostly waddling along at this point. I fear that this is going to be a big baby indeed. I'm usually a fairly small preggo person, but with this one it seems like all hell is breaking loose. My weight gain is basically on track, and I measure normally, if anything its on the low end of normal, but still my stomach seems like it could not get much bigger. I'm feeling pretty good, though. A little tired here and there but overally pretty OK. I was at the doctor on Monday and it was good. The baby is still sideways, so she said if doesn't move by my next appointment then we'll talk about what the implications are. I think it will move, though. I've never had problems like that before, so I think it'll be a breeze like last time. When Payton was born it just seemed crazy that you could have a baby and feel 100% before, during and after labor! The labor was just so textbook. I woke up at three a.m, gripped by pain. I shook Geoff awake "it's time to go to the hospital," just like in the movies! By the time we got there I was a cool 4cm, so they put in the epidural straight away. After that it was all smooth sailing, popsicles, ginger ale and Jello.
Well, I'm still aways away from that point, but I have one month left of work, and I am starting to try to slowly organize things a bit for my departure. It is weird that is coming so fast. At first I thought I might miss this place, but now I think I'll be like "so long, suckers!"
Things at home are fairly swell. The van is having some more issues, and is in the shop once again. Hopefully the repairs will not be expensive this time nor take too long. It's hard to say. I've definately been cursed. Whenever we have some cash on hand, things go awry. We have some extra cash now and what happens: first Geoff gets a traffic ticket (don't ask, he's a dumb ass), and then the cat goes in heat so we have to get her fixed, and then the van starts overheating. This is exactly what happened before when we happened upon some extra money when I got my retro pay. The muffler fell off my van and then the damn dog starting vomiting bile and landed up in the vet for three days on IV and needing exploratory surgery. Damn dog. All she does is lay around and yap.
Spring is in the air, and the weather is finally getting better. I don't have the garden in yet, mostly because I don't have a garden, so that seems to be a problem. I do have a flower bed, though, and am thinking of planting some flowers maybe this weekend. Last year I had some good success with petunias and snapdragons. So I shall try that again. I guess I really am getting old because I'm starting to enjoy stuff like that more. Also, I notice that the young folk are different these days. Today, a patient comes into see the doc wearing a shirt that says "Free Breathalizer. Blow Below" and it had an arrow pointing down to-- well, I'll let you guess which body part, but let me say that it was in rather poor taste. Why one would wear such a shirt at all is beyond me, and further more, to a place of business! Give your head a shake buddy. I might have thought that was cool when I was 14. And he wasn't a teenager. He was a grown man. Honestly. Some people just never grow up.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

On Being an Adult

Well, being an adult sucks. This I have realized. When I was a kid I had this glorious vision of being grown up, driving around in some really cool vehicle, staying up as late as I want, no rules, no curfews. And here I am. Driving a 94 mini van (how much more uncool can you be??). The cruel irony is that now that I am of an age to stay up as late as I want, I am usually in bed I before my kids are. And now that I am of an age to party as late as I want or with whomover I want, I find that the things that I want are totally domestic boring stuff- like say, watching Robots with the kids. My major excitement for the month is going to see Walking with the Dinosaurs: A BBC documentary. I guess I turned out to be pretty lame, and the child me would be disapointed to see the adult that I have become. I spent my childhood and youth wishing I would hurry up and grow up, and now that I'm grown up, I wish for some of that youthful exuberance I once had. Well, in reality my teenage years were not necessarily always so exuberant. From what I recall I believe I slept until three on most days. These days if I sleep until nine I'm shocked. Today Payto was up at 5:30. The joys of parenthood. But another irony is that I have often found that as I parent, it is my children who give me insight and strength, rather than the other way around.
For example, this weekend I drove out to the lake and back by myself. I have always been able to fanangle a ride with someone else, but this time, there was no one else. So there I was, loading up the vehicle at seven a.m, dragging my sleepy, pajama laden children out into the vehicle, trying to mask my nervousness and anxiety for the kids sake. I feigned enthusiasm as I pulled out of the garage "Let's hit the highway!" I said to the kids, but basically I thought I might vomit. "Fake it til you make it" is a saying that sometimes come to mind. Sometimes you have to pretend to be stronger than you are for the sake of the kids, and then somewhere along the way, you realize that you actually are stronger than you thought! Anyways, my first highway experience turned out to be all right. It is a good feeling to know that I can do it.
And as if conquering that fear wasn't enough, I had to face another one soon upon returning home: The dentist, AKA sadistic, drill wielding mother f'ers. I hate going to the dentist. Even if they don't even do anything. It's just their scrapers and their pickers and pokers and the way gauze feels and tastes in your mouth and the coppery taste of blood in your own mouth. Argh. It makes me uneasy just to think about it. But it was really my children who taught me a lesson. Last month I took the kids to the dentist, and of course, they had cavities, how could they not with the amount of junk food they eat. The ratio is probably something like for every thirty pounds of sugar they ingest, they spend thirty seconds brushing thier teeth. And then I was so nervous for them to have thier cavities filled. Seeing them in the big dentist chair with the overlight glaring into their faces just about broke my heart. I was thinking they were going to cry, scream, try to writhe free. But they didn't. They just sat there. Perfectly calm. And I realized I was the only one who wasn't calm. I was projecting my own fears onto them. So that caused me to think about how irrational my own fears are then, if a three year old can sit there for half an hour and have her teeth worked on with nary a complaint. So this time when I went to the dentist, it was really the image of my kids that kept me in the dentist chair. If they can do it, then so can I. And besides, I got a free toothbrush out of the deal, so it was pretty good. It's a pretty nice toothbrush, and so far it has been working out well, thought I'm not sure about the long run.
Other than that, things are going well with the pregnancy. I am getting bigger, and it hard to imagine that I still have two more months of growing ahead of me. Yikes. But it's all good. I try not to complain about being pregnant. I remember once when I was in Superstore about three days after Payton was born. This chic ahead of my was hugely pregnant and complaining to her friend that "I just can't wait until this baby is born so I can finally get some sleep!" I almost choked and fell to the floor. I just thought "Man. I would switch places with you right now in a heartbeat. Maybe you are sleeping poorly now, but poorly is better than not at all, which is pretty much what you're going to get once that little sucker is born and it's round the clock feeding, burping and diapering." There I was buying Motrin and Tylenol, chocolate and caffeine, trying to keep my poor body going despite seventy two hours of very fragmented amounts of sleep. So, as I said, I try not to complain. The miracle of having a newborn is truly a miracle, but at the same time, I won't overglorify it. At times, it can plain out suck. Well, on that note. I have to be going now.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Thirty Weeks

Well, today I turn 30. Last time I turned 30 I was sad, distraught, suicidal, contemplating whether or not to turn my back on it all, buy a houseboat and live my life on the open sea, endlessly adrift in my middle ageness. But this time I'm happy to be turning thirty, because it is only weeks that I'm talking about and not years, so that makes a big difference. So now things are going well. I'm feeling pretty OK, I get a little tired sometimes, finding it hard to stay up past nine o'clock most days. But I don't mind getting the extra sleep now. Soon enough sleep will be a distant memory. I have an online baby pool, which some people have participated in (and some people have participated in twice, which, technically, is not really allowed, I might add, hint hint, mom.) I must say that I'm surprised that many people are guessing the weight quite low, like in the 7's. I have to say that I would be very surprised if the baby was anything less that 8ish, because statistics say that each baby gets bigger. Gage was 7-13, Payton was 8-4, so if the pattern continues (which it should, barring of course, that I take up a heroin addiction, which I probably won't on account of the fact that I'm scared of needles. I still haven't gotten that Tetanus shot I was supposed to get back in the fall of '07. If you need your memory refreshed, its all there in "So thats what letter openers are for") it could be close to nine pounds. My guess is 8-11. I think that seems about right.
Last night I did something which I thought I might never do, which is to go and see Tina Fey the idea stealing wench in her movie which was blatantly stolen from me and now she is capatilizing on it and I have now contributed to her further success by giving my seveny three dollars or whatever ridiculous price they are charging now for admission. But it had to be done in the name of market research/recon. It was actually a very good movie, two thumbs up. Actually four, because the baby was enjoying it as well, moving around a lot. But that could have just been the sixteen ounces of pop I drank. But in any case, it was good. And it was actually quite different than my book, so I feel better knowing that.
Other than that, not much new with me. The cat is still not speaking to me after I tried to establish communication with her last week. I'm pretty sure that she's angry with me, and I realize that the nuances of feline speech are perhaps more intricate than I thought. Meowing seems simple, but it's apparently a complex language. So I've aborted my mission for now. I will need to do some background research first, but unfortunately, this is slow going because there isn't a wealth of information available online about cat communication.
As for me and my writing, well, things haven't been going well. I've been sending out query letters to agents since November, but haven't really gained any ground. I've gotten only rejection letters so far, some replies are still pending, but it's hard to be really hopeful. It's discouraging, but there are still avenues to persue and I believe that persistence and patience will maybe some day pay off. If not, I continue to write and work at another book. I have decided that ultimately, I am a writer whether or not the greater publishing community thinks so or not. Maybe it is all a pipe dream, but I once heard the words from a very wise source "you can take a stand or just compromise, you can work real hard or just fantasize". OK. So it was KISS that sang that in "God gave rock and roll to you", but still. You can't argue thier success. You simply can't.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Twenty Nine Weeks

Day one of cat communication log:
May 6, 1800h: I have tried initiating communication with the cat. Said a few sentences to her. She maintained good eye contact throughout, but did not meow back. After approximately thirty seconds, she twinkled her nose, and then departed. I am not sure if the nose twinkling is significant or not. Perhaps it is a non verbal cat gesture. Perhaps her nose was itchy. At this point so early in my research, it is hard to say. I am also not sure if her hasty retreat from the conversation is indicitive of A)her inability to understand my primitive meows or B)that I may have inadvertently said something to offend her. I am a little discouraged by my lack of progress with her, but feel that with some patience and persistence, the endeavor is worth persuing. I am contemplating immersing myself more fully into the cat culture, though this may be difficult for me because of A)my inability to lick myself "down there" (have tried sereral times, but unfortunately, my species lacks the agility of the cat species.) and B) the logistics of using a cat box due to both the size and position of the litter box. At any rate, I will have to reevaluate my tactics and try again to initiate contact at a later date.
As for other aspects of my life, things seem to be on track. Twenty nine weeks now and things are going quite well. I am getting fairly big, am expecting a big baby. High eight's, I would assume, hopefully not much bigger. I want a baby that still looks like a baby, after all, and not a six month old crammed into a onesie and jammed into a bassinette, although I suppose at this point, such a baby would indeed suffice, though I would prefer a somewhat sleeker model, more aerodynamic like. But I do go on... the point is, I'm getting big. This morning I changed my shirt five times because the first four made me look too big, but then finally at the fifth, I was like "well, OK. I guess I am actually big, and I guess it's not just the clothes." So I'll have to learn to deal. Interestingly, this fear of getting big and having a big baby does not really stop me from doing things that could lead to further bigness, on my part or the baby's. For example, today after lunch I wanted to try the new Brownie Ice Cap they have at Tims. Tim's is about two blocks away from work, so I was thinking, it could be a nice walk. But then I was like "who am I kidding. I don't want to walk. What's the point of having such a flashy vehicle if all I'm going to do is walk everywhere I go??" So I drove. And then today, I got this bag of fudge from Wal Mart. I was going to just eat a piece or two. But then I actually ate several. But anyways, I believe that that should be OK because there is no trans fat in them, so it's practically health food anyways.
And speaking of food, I have recently heard some news which rather disturbs me. The pickle industry is diversifying into the frozen food business. I have learned of a new product called "The Picklesicle" which is precisely what is sounds like it would be: frozen pickle juice on a stick. I don't know what kind of a person came up with this, or better yet: who looked at the business plan and was like "Yeah, this sounds like a sure thing. I want to sink all my money into this." What is this world coming to? I mean why stop at pickle juice? Surely gravy would make a nice frozen treat as well!
But back to me and my pregnancy. Here's the rundown: lots of hearburn, a moderate degree of back ache, some irritability (though I'm sure this is not due to the pregnancy, it's just my nature), names are more or less finalized: Olivia Jacqueline for a girl (the Jacqueline, of course, is after Jackie O., my idol. Well, actually I don't really know who she is. I think she was married to some politician or something, though, so that sounds good). For a boy Hunter something something. The middle name we don't really know at this point. Geoff wants it to be Geoffrey, which I think is a little nervy on his part since it is ME who is carrying this baby and will be pushing it out into the world. But whatever. I guess I may end up letting him have his wish, because technically I'm supposed to be married to him and care about what he wants, or some such thing like that, according to my wedding vows and so on and so forth. Should have read the fine print when I signed on for that, let me tell you. Anyways, as for the birth, Lorrie has generously agreed to do the fluting, but I'm a little ambivalent about that seeing as she doesn't actually own a flute, so I'm not convinced that she really practices or even knows any songs for that matter. So I am compiling a list of songs which have special meaning to me, or are just songs that I've always liked. I only hope that the CD players on L&D will play burned CD's, because some CD players don't. Anyways, lots of time to worry about that. But the thing is: time is going SOOO fast. It makes me a little nervous for some reason. I'm already at the point of biweekly dr appointments, which is actually good because I do enjoy seeing the doctor, which is strange because I work in a doctors office and am around doctors all day every day. But, anyways. I think I shall go now, as I am getting tuckered. It's not easy drinking ice caps all day and eating fudge. Very tiring. Very much. Will report later on developments with the cat. Have a good night.