Ari's movie: from EPT to birthday

38 weeks + 1 day: Happy Birthday Ari Beckett! (Part One)

So there was an earthquake on Tuesday.  I gave birth on Friday.  And a hurricane Irene came through on Saturday.

It's been a very cool week, man...

Let me sum up a birth story:

Wednesday (at 37 weeks 6 days) I had attended my doc appointment and was measuring 3cm and 75% effaced. The same as the week before.  The lady parts doc had guestimated that she'd see me next week for my 39 week appointment.  I waddled out of that office disappointed.  I felt for sure I'd be giving birth this week. I felt huge, achy, and READY!

The next day, Thursday, I head up to the commisary at the local Air Force base with my trusty grocery store list.  I had bought a copy of the latest Rachael Ray mag and was all inspired to make a month's worth of meals in 1 day.  We were also expecting hurricane Irene to come through the area.  So I'm throwing several gallons of water, 10lbs of pork and chicken, pull-ups, and ice cream into the cart.  I'm going to be well-fed and prepared if I have to stay holed up at home with the fam!

Of course, while I was there I was inspired to use the ladies room and take this picture:

Approximately 26 hours before giving birth

 

Later that night I got a smooch from some handsome guy who was giving our son a bath:

It's like I knew this was my last full day of being pregnant.  Let me take as many pics...

10pm came along and the husb and I decided to call it a night.  I had briefly debated if I wanted to stay up to watch the latest Jersey Shore, but decided I could handle a rerun the next day. Mama was tired...

I woke up around 4am, which was nothing unusual.  Went pee and crawled/scooted back into bed.  I started feeling achy in the hips.  Like hips are pulling apart kind of achy.  I had been feeling this off/on for weeks.  No biggie.  Then the ache came back 10 minutes later.  Then 10 minutes later.  Then again.  I got up again and peed.

This time I came back into the room and dropped to my knees and leaned against the bed.  Justin sits up.

"Are you okay?"

"My hips are just really hurting."

"Should I call the doctor?"

"Let's just see what happens."

I didn't know if this was a pattern.  A truly active-in-labor pattern.  Justin pulls out my phone and starts timing the contractions with my nifty phone app.  Periodically, I walk around the room and then drop down again to hum out the pain.  Next thing I know it's around 530am and I was convinced this was the
Real McCoy of Labor.  I get up brush my teeth and start putting my toiletries in my hospital bag that had been packed for a couple of weeks now.

"We gotta get outta here."

I call the doctor and leave a message that I was having contractions for over an hour, 5 minutes apart and lasting from 45 seconds to 1.5 minutes.

Within a few minutes someone from the doc's office calls me back, gets more info, and let's me know that she'll notify my doctor.

Meanwhile Justin wakes up Milo gets him dressed and tells him, "Mommy and I have go to the hospital.  Your baby brother is going to be here soon!"

"Oh, baby brother!"

Milo doesn't have daycare on Fridays and I was feeling the need to go-go-go to the hospital.  Since my mom lives an hour away I had decided to take my friend up on her offer to "Call me if you need anything" and I called.  At 6am she answers her phone and graciously allows us to drop off Milo.  I call my mom and let her know what's happening. 

By 630am we're barrolling down the road.  40 minutes to the hospital...

I'm breathing, I'm moaning and reminding myself that my water hasn't broken yet and these pains were not the worst to come.  I can handle this.  My body was made just for this. Every song on the radio seemed to be a direct message to me.  From Bob Marley (Could you be loved, and be loved...) to Katie Perry (Do it all again/this Friday night/do it all again...)
The sun coming up over the horizon seemed to be welcoming this new life like a new day.  Every cloud, every bird...(focus/focal points)

Every contraction seemed to take me deeper into more pain.  I tried to remain focused and fully breathe into them.  3 years ago I was so terrified of each contraction.  Each one like Thunder on the Mountain.  I fought them and resisted them and my anxiety seemed to take over making it a thoroughly scary experience.

I didn't want this to be another scary experience.

What seemed to help this go-round was to welcome the contraction, breathe it in and out and when it subsided thank it and send it back to the universe.

"You can have that back"

There something about labor, preparing your body for birth, that brings you into your self, God, mother nature -no matter your spirituality, religion, energy, light, sage burning chanting enlightenment -these moments really make one reach outside yourself as well as deep within yourself- for strength, to be absent of fear, to embrace.

And as soon as the contraction was gone I felt normal, relaxed.  And then it would come back. 

Ebb/Flow, Ebb/Flow, Ebb/Flow

"I can't believe we're doing this.  Today."

 I felt emotional, numb, excited, scared, focused, but mostly thankful that I had my husband next to me and that Milo was safely cared for.

I could focus on my labor.  My husband could focus on me.  And Milo wouldn't have to be scared/confused over what was going on...

We park and head up to Labor and Delivery shortly after 7am.  After a brief check-in and several contractions later I'm hooked up in the triage room.

I'm 5cm and 75% effaced.

"What's your plan for pain management?"

"Lots of it."

"You plan for lots of pain?"

(laughing) "No, I'd like lots of meds to manage my pain..."

I'm still in mild disbelief that this is all happening but also relieved that they don't tell me to "Go walk the halls" to help my labor along.  I was dilated and had a consistent contraction pattern.  I'll be admitted to room 202 thankyouverymuch!

Since cocktail Epidural was on my menu front and center they start the IV.  After my veins had gurgled a full bag of fluids I was able to get the feel-good doctor to come into my room and poke at my spine.

At around 8am the very nice lady from Anesthesia wheels in her magic.  I had an Epi with Milo so I felt confident in the experience.  However, it was a tad more painful than 3 years ago.  The electric shock that resonated on the right side of my body scared the shit out of me.  Ms. Anesthesia guided me through everything she was doing and explained it all.  Apparently, every doc does their own thing when administrating the juice.



Moments after The Great Epidural.  God bless modern medicene!



And then it was chill time (in between texting and calling various family and friends, of course)

 For the next hour I was itching like a crack addict.  She said this is normal and is a side effect from another med that she gives in order to get more immediate relief.  So for an hour I feel The Warm Numb paired with The Annoying Itch.

Soon after, the doc comes in and I can't help myself...

"You were wrong!"

"I told you things can change quickly!"

"Well, you didn't hurt my feelings, I'm glad to be here!"

"You got your epidural...? (notices the wires and such)...oh, yes you did..."

She checks out my cervix and I'm 8cm!

"Let's go ahead and break your water."

"Yeah, might as well...since you're already down there..."

I'm nothing if not classy...

"Damn, flood the room, girl!"

And my doctor is nothing but professional...:)

But after the bag of water was broken...that's when things started going downhill...



waiting...



38 weeks

Knowing every public restroom in a 50 mile radius from my home has been my privilege

Stats of the week:

Still to go:
14 days  ANY FLIPPIN' DAY NOW PLEASE

Total weight gain:
22.5 lbs

Blood pressure:
100/50

Measuring at:
39 weeks

As of yesterday's appointment I'm holding strong at 3cm and 75% effaced.  Baby is at -2 station.

My doc thinks she'll see me next week at the 39 week appointment but in the same breath says, "But things can change quickly!  Call me if you have 5 strong contractions within one hour or your water breaks."

Dear Water,
You've broken before on your own.  I know you can do this again.  Now be a good bag of water and POP GODDAMIT!  Preferably in the privacy of my home and when I'm standing on hard wood floor.
Very Respectively,
MME

Dear Contractions,
Although I've been feeling you on/off for a weeks now, you're really not giving me all you got.  I know you can do better.  Remember 3 years ago when you had me doubled over the nurse's station in Labor and Delivery and I was punching my husband in the chest/stomach/arms and yelling "This Fucking SUCKS!" and the triage nurse thought I was saying "NO Fucking SEX!" ? Now *those* we're some bad-ass contractions.  Even though I had to numb you down with a big fat needle, you did a great job getting everything ready for the birth of my darling Milo. 

Now let's revisit the good 'ol days, shall we?  And then we can put all this pregnancy business behind us.
V/R,
MME

The baby boy who is enjoying my uterus way too much and ignoring all eviction notices I have posted
is still plenty active.  Fierce kicks are easily and frequently felt in the ribs.  He hiccups daily and it usually begins just as I'm lying down for the night.

It used to be cute, but things have changed.

Labor dust fairies...please sprinkle your magic upon me...

Don't let the "I'm not amused" look fool you...I've got *plenty*of humor left in me.  Sort of.

My little drag queen
"Hey, mama!  Let's turn on some Madonna and VOGUE!"

As I was in the bathroom for the 3,405th time, Milo spontaneously loops one of my bras around himself and says, "Look at me, mama, look at ME!"

Thank you, Milo, for reminding me to not take myself so seriously.  You da bests!

Oh, hello, 37 weeks, pleased to meet you! (on the otherside of pre-term)

37 weeks was my goal, and here it is!  In all its big 'ol belly-heartburn-stomach acid in the mouth-up 27 times a night-sore pelvis-achy back-feet in ribs GLORY!!

The positive side?  Still without a stretch mark, clear skin, thick hair and more than acceptable weight gain.  And, of course, the healthy baby boy evolving in there...

Man, it feels good to be on the other side of "pre-term!"

One glorious body memory I will take with me is the living, the evolution of this impressive baby growing business.  Each week a milestone in Life: pregnancy, childhood, marriage...

The sigh of relief to meet a new day, to check off another week, each doc appointment met with "normal" results, to greet my husband home after each trip (and still pregnant!), witnessing my son lift up his shirt, stick out his bare belly and say, "Oh, baby brother!"

The good stuff ain't always the easy and fun stuff, but what makes it good is that process and the processing through it...

I dig on gratitude when I'm sitting/walking/standing/lying down in an ever-increasing awkward state.  Because, really...there's a life doing the same thing in my body.  Awkwardly twisting to find the most optimal comfort.

There's a LIFE.

The weeks and days before Milo arrived I didn't spend much time on thinking about how life would change. I just assumed he would fit neatly into our lives. 

He may have come barrelling down the turnpike at breakneck speed, smoking cigarettes and blaring The White Stripes just to drop his baggage off in the foyer and then prop his feet up on my couch and sing merrily, "Hi, I'm here. What's for dinner? TAKE CARE OF ME NOW"

And I would stand with confusion staring at all the accessories I felt was necessary to acquire in order to fully parent and think, "Now what?

What child is this?  And when is your real mother coming to take you home?!"

Motherhood, the first time around certainly did not (and never will) define me. But motherhood, most certainly invited me, encouraged me, demanded of me to define myself and to open my consciousness and accept that LOVE doesn't come from one particular party.

And I've had alot of party...

There was a time when carseats, cheeto cheesed-out fingers smeared on the windows, and a $100 worth of diapers (pull-ups and newborns!) in the trunk of my car would have seriously cramped my swagger...

Now?  It's a new kind of party...the party that actually loves me back...

The next task for me as I enter the Grand Finale is to continue to "let go."  Somehow I've come this far in my life (as a mother, wife, woman).  I made up this saying when I was 23 that went something like this, "I didn't drive 2,550 miles on good looks and charm."  I came this far just fine.  More than fine, actually...

I need to continue to let go and continue trusting in the process, in the unfolding...This baby will arrive in his time, at the right time.  He already belongs to this family.  Always enough love...

37 weeks

Still to go: 3 weeks-ish

which is:
21 days-ish

the baby is as big as a:
watermelon (19 to 22 in, 6.5 lbs) estimated

total weight gain:
22 lbs

measuring at:
38 weeks

Group B Strep test is:
NEGATIVE!

AND HOLY SHIZ, YA'LL....

I'm 3cm dilated and 75% effaced!!

36 weeks (9 months!)





30 weeks ago...



 (blink)



today



Still to go:

4 weeks

Which is:

28 days

The babe is as big as:

Large cantaloupe (19 to 20 in, 6lbs) estimated 

With the countdown on for the reuniting and the meeting of the Eason Four, I'm forcing myself to sit.  This isn't always the easiest of tasks when my nature is to moveit-moveit.  But, in order to keep the labor fairies at bay, I must just simply, sit.  And stay hydrated.  A sort of self-prescribed bed-rest.  Though I'm not moving furniture (my favorite past time), it's been enough just running laundry up and down 2 flights of stairs.  Whosever idea it was to put the master bedroom on the top floor and the laundry in the basement was a dingbat.  And an asshole. And, apparently, has never lived with a pregnant woman.

On-line shopping was never really my thing, but I've been enjoying the "window shopping" of amazon and etsy, among other, manymany other, websites that advertise ease, awesomeness and feng shui into my world.

Since we're having a baby boy Dos, I haven't had to invest in much to prepare for his arrival.  However, it's amazing all the new SHIT out there for babys and parents.  And though I'm not tempted by most of it, I have allowed myself a few new items that will -hopefully- make things a tad easier this go-round.   The newborn rock 'n play seems to be a big hit with not only on-line reviewers, but also with a few friends o' mine.  I like how compact it is.  With Milo, the husb would assemble and then disassemble EVERYDAY the pack and play.  Bringing it upstairs to our bedroom at night, and then shlep it downstairs to the living room during the day. 

Total painintheass.

I also purchased the moby wrap.  Though we already have 2 other baby carriers, this one seems perfect for newborns, and, hopefully, more comfortable for marathon wearing.  If this baby is like his older brother, he will be a much happier baby in mama's (or daddy's!) arms.  Milo most certainly knew the difference between being held by human arms and being cradled by a swing or bouncy seat.  He is/was not a fan of "artificial" cuddling.  Plus, I just simply love the style of the moby, very hippy chic.

Though I plan on exclusively breastfeeding, I've purchased some new nipples for the bottles I've saved.  Whether for pumped breast milk, formula, or a combination of the two, it's nice to have a bottle back up.

Something *new* we will be trying this go-round is cloth diapering!  Lately, I've had to prioritize some expeditures (new tires for both cars, new brakes, new clutch, tree removal, yadayada had to come first) so I haven't yet bought my stash of diapers and the cleaning accessories it requires, but I am all-out excited to try them on!  I do, however, have a nice little treasure of disposable diapers on hand just in case baby dos arrives before my CD shipment...

I just said I'm all-out excited to try cloth diapering.

Huh...?!

35 weeks +4 days: 1cm dilated!

This morning was the much anticipated (not really) Group B Strep testing.

"We'll call you if you're positive."

Right on...

I also requested the much anticipated, "can you check to see if I'm dilated?"

"Okay, just scoot yourself back down...."

"1cm dilated and thick!"

(that's what he said.  What?!)

"Which is totally normal for a woman who has already had a child."

Baby Doc also ultrasounded me and confirmed the baby head is DOWN!  I'm measuring at 37 weeks...

That circus ain't too far away folks...

Other facts for prosperity:

Total weight gain: 21.5
blood pressure: 100/54

35 weeks (bottom of the 8th)

How to keep a 3 year old busy when you are (essentially) a single parent,  nearly 9 months pregnant and all you want to do is sit, feet propped, and watch House Hunters marathons while eatting oreos interchanged with cheese doodles.

Ah, the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants life of a navy princess wife...

  AND it's god-awful flippin' hot outside.  Like 115 degree heat index stupid crazy hot humidity ridiculouness.

We play with staplers.



We watch Sponge Bob.



We build towers.



We play horsey. 
It's a mommy sandwich!  Get it?  Baby in front, baby in back...



We compare bellies.



I eat cake at my baby shower at work!  Coincidentally, my last day of work (for awhile at least...)!!



Let's hope the babe doesn't drop his landing gear until daddy gets back...Stay in your parachute!

Meanwhile the statistics:

Still to go:

5 weeks

Which is:

35 days

The baby is as big as a:

Large cantaloupe (19 to 22 in, 5.5lbs) estimated

The mama is as big as a:

Wholly canoli. 5 weeks left?  That can't be right...

Day 238 (34 weeks)



Day 237:  Are we there yet?

 If this baybee is like Milo, he'll be here in 2 weeks.
If this baybee wants to be labeled "full term," he'll be here in 3 weeks.
If this baybee wants to be in line with my due date, he'll be here in 6 weeks.

If this baybee wants to be an inconsiderate, stubborn punk, he'll be here in 8 weeks.

At my  453 34 week appointment, the doc confirms with me my due date.  I, of course, try to negotiate/compromise/lie/black mail her into changing the date.

Because, you know, that works...

I tell the doc, "I don't think I'm going all the way to 40 weeks.  My hips are incredibly achy, I'm waddling like a drunken duck on the shores of Key West.  The pressure is so HEAVY that my vagina is crumbling under the weight of this child's head, and yesterday I discovered colustrum already leaking from my boobs!!"

She just laughed and said "Girl you are CRAZY!  You know, some women leak colustrum at 10 WEEKS!"

Inotherwords,  she's totally not on board with my birthplan.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to have this baby a moment sooner than full term, or a moment sooner than when he is ready to vacate,  I just...you know... as they say, am in the home stretch...

Statistics for the number crunchers:

Still to go:
6 weeks (dot, dot, dot)

Which is:
42 days

Time passed since the first day of my last menstrual period aka the only definitive number in this countdown game:
34 weeks (238 days)


34 week Doc Appointment revelations:

Blood pressure:
102/58

total weight gain:
19.5 lbs

fundal height:
measuring at 35 weeks



Oy vey



Pregnant and in overalls: I must have been high. Off life, and stuff.

While we were on our mini-vacation at le beach Rehobeth, the husb and I had a sort of "date day."  Whenever we're together and there isn't a child within 2 feet of us (not counting the "inner child") and do "adult" things like finish sentences, it feels like a "date."

My idea and standards of what is romantical drastically changed when I became mom-ified.  You don't necessarily need to go all white linen, expensive perfume wearing, $60 botttle of chardonney, red lipstick and jazz to be considered a "date."

You just need grandma or some other responsible adult to show up and watch the kid.

Here's what the math looks like:
me plus husb minus Milo equals date squared cosign and stuff.

I know, you might need a Texas Instrument to make sense of this one.

We had gotten  full-body, 1 hour massages.  Which, I highly recomend no matter-no time-any place!  Even though I can't lie belly down, there are some WON-DER-FUL techniques to rub out the tension that a prego lady carries in her back and hips (and shoulders and head and neck and legs and feet amen). 

Ooh -lala, health insurance should cover pregnancy massages...

In all honesty, if I wasn't pregnant, I'm sure we would have found the nearest sushi and wine joint and vegged out for 3 hours.  Sigh, maybe next month year...

After lunch, we stopped in at one of my favorite shops, Sunshine Octopus.  They totally fullfill my inner hippy child to no end.  I just love all the skirts and tops and tapestries and bongs jewelery.  One of the sales girls approaches me in all her dreaded hair and patchouli glory and starts chatting me up about these "awesome overalls"  that "you have GOT to try on!"

"You would look SO CUTE!"

Me: "uh, no."

She pulls out the brown corduroy number.

Me: " Oh, nonononono."

But then again, I've had a massage, I'm relaxed, I'm well-fed, there isn't a 3 year old in sight, and the Jimmy Hendrix playing in the store is really groovin' on me, man....I can't help myself...



Pregnant, self-respecting women do not belong in overalls.
This is my truth.

 A date with me= you never know whose pants I may be trying on.... ;)

33 weeks (and 2 days)

Still to go:
6 weeks and 5 days

Which is:
47 days

Time passed:
33 weeks and 2 days

The babe is as big as a:
Honeydew (19in, 4.5 lbs, estimated)

My educated/blind guess is that this baby is already a good 25 inches. Some moments I feel his little feet grazing around my waist, stretching to my back.  Other days I'm pushing him out from under my rib cage...He is by FAR more active than Milo ever was whilst in utero.  He is quite a roly poly bump nudge jiggle kind of a guy.  No matter what I eat/drink or sitting/standing,  he enjoys himself some calisthenic exercises!  I can only guess that his head is down from the amount of pressure and ache I've been experiencing in the good 'ol pelvis.  My doc doesn't check for position o' the baby until week 36.  Here's hoping!

And TMI and so gross, but I woke myself up the other night choking on stomach acid.  It's become a very necessary thing to pop a couple of Tums before I lay down.  Because as soon as I'm past the 45 degree angle, here comes a taste in my mouth and a burn in my chest that just shouldn't be experienced by a nice girl like me.  Oh, holiness...

32 weeks (8 months!)



circle in the sand
'round and 'round



The Milo-Cam



Objects in mirror are larger than they appear



8 months pregnant, mid-July, at a kids amusement park.
It's pretty much a magical thing...

time left:
8 weeks (possibly-ish)

weight gained:
15.5 lbs (feels like 30)

measuring:
34 weeks  (still 2 weeks ahead)



I can ridz the painted ponies! Wee!
The only ride that can handle alla this baby!



nesting and a clutch blowout. true story.

It's interesting to me how nesting energy levels can swell and then recoil. I have days where I look at all the toys on the floor and just hope that I don't trip on anything.

Other days, I see the toys on the floor and the skid marks from the tricycle and the nicks on the wall and dust and the dirt and the brown bananas and the shitty-ass caulk work around the kitchen sink. 

And the cluttered bookcase.  And the plant that isn't getting enough light.  And the...

You get it right?

The husb, after 6 years of marriage, has finally taken a step back.  Whether the Mrs. is prego or not, he no longer interferes or comments about my need to clean, rearrange, or organize.  He just lets me roar and burn 'till the fire dims and the everything is "just so."

So, since I already have a natural proclivity to "nesting," imagine how I get when it's "3rd trimester nesting." 

Oh, it's a little bit of the crazy pants time.

And NOTHING is good enough.  Or done enough.

For example, Saturday morning.  It should be a time of pancakes, coffee (tea for me!) and pajamas until noon.  But somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain, I take a look around the kitchen and feel a great need, a pure biological urge if you will, to change out -not only all the face plates to the electrical outlets- but the actual electric sockets as well. 

The only thing I'm willing to "make do" with at this time, is just doing the electrical outlets on the main floor.  All 18 of them.  We'll deal with the basement and upstairs later.

(crazy pants)

And when I say "we" I mean the husb.

I also feel it's a good time to get new brakes for the car. 

(crazy pants but also necessary)

So we drop off the car at the car repair shop and then go to the nearest hardware store.

After 3 trips to the hardware store, we finally get all the parts and accessories to ROCK OUT some very necessary "we gotta do it today" socket replacement.  Fuck yeah.

By this time the car is done (yay for new brakes!).  We drive to pick up the car and as we're pulling out, the other car (the one where the tree fell on top of it) suddenly decides it doesn't want to go into first gear.

Guess what car, after 170,000 miles, needs a new clutch?  Of course, Milo and I were all the way home before I checked my phone (I had turned off the blue tooth and the ringer was on low) to hear the exasperated voice messages of my husband telling me to turn around and come get him because he had been stranded by the clutch blowing out.  What's funny is that Milo, during the whole car ride, kept asking, "Where's daddy?  Where daddy go?"  I lied and kept saying, "Daddy is right behind us.  I see him. He's right there."  Of course, I just assumed he was several cars back.  When I had pulled into our driveway and still no daddy, I had assumed he swung by the liquor store for a well-deserved 80 proof.

I know...it's getting hard for me to keep up with all this myself...

The next day?  Sunday?


I'm nesting my ass in some sand.  Rock on with my brand new maternity bathing suit! 



No electrical outlets in sight!  I think I'm safe here (and my poor husband) from any nesting instincts!

 And what am I doing on Monday?  Why restaining the back deck, of course...

31 weeks and then the bathroom mirror shattered at 5am

So I took this picture 7 hours before the mirror crashed out:

the psychotic asshole I'm in a bad mood

I'd love to blame the hormones but seriously, it's not me, IT'S EVERYONE ELSE!

I think, for fun and to keep myself from increasing my stabby atittude, I'm going to start lying.  If I have to answer one more freakin' question about the elephant in the room (MOI) I'm going to start throwing cat feces in faces.

I've got plenty to spare YA'LL!

I'm totally over the whole "if you're pregnant than your body and your life are up for detailed conversations with strangers."

And then, at 5am, this happened:



My 5am alarm clock
HOLY.  SHIT.  That was LOUD!

So, to recap, our tree fell down and now the mirror.  Is someone trying to tell me something?!

And can I just say one thing...for some reason WAY WAY beyond me, my son tends to wake up at about 6am...but only on the weekends. 

This particular morning I HAD to be up early (6:30ish) so I was anticipating Milo being my alarm clock to make sure I was up and about.

And then the mirror happened.  At 5am.  It was some kind of spontaneous, spur-of-the-random-thing that just. happened. 

Yes, the bathroom mirror just FELL OFF THE FUCKING WALL.

Thankfully, the husb was still home to help to clean up the mess.  He was, in fact, 2 floors down shaving when he heard the huge crash and my scream-like-a-girl scream.

And Milo did not wake up.

And then the vacuuming.

And Milo is still sleeping soundly.  In fact, I had to wake him up at 7am to make sure we were getting out the door on time.

Over the weekend I remember thinking, "What does it take to get this kid to sleep IN?!"

Apparently a shattering mirror and a good old fashioned vacuum cleaning does the trick...

go figure...



and goodbye mirror



so does this means I can now tear down that tacky-ass wallpaper, get a cool new mirror from Home Goods AND repaint?!

Woo-HOO! Let the nesting begin NEVER END!



Me: 31 weeks and wondering what next week will bring...



Stats:

Still to go before I'm a rational human being again:
8 weeks 6 days

Which is:
62 days

Time passed since I've lost all contact with reason:
31 weeks and 1 day

Milo's brother is as big as a:
head of lettuce (estimated at 18 in, 3.2 lbs)

Song in my head:
ring around the rosey, pocket full of posey, ashes, ashes, WE ALL FALL DOWN!

Charlie and a pair of rose colored glasses

The calf kink is something that prevailed in the 3rd trimester of my last prego-nancy.  It would typically occur at dawn's early light when there was nothing but peace and tranquility streaming through our water and vinegar'd bedroom windows.

Now, at 30 weeks and 1 day, Charlie has decided to revisit the likes of me.

I've been feeling the sore calves, sore thighs, sore vagina (tmi, sorry) for a few weeks now (thank you Relaxin hormone!) but the Charlie Horsey brings it to a whole new acute level of crazypain.

My life partner, a light sleeper to a fault, thinks this girl is in labor as I bolt up in pain, moaning and groaning while I massage and flex my poor calf for several minutes.

The night before I says to my life partner, "I think I'm officially done with being pregnant."

Life Partner replies, "Well, you were feeling that way alot sooner last time.  You're hips don't
hurt do they?"

"No."

The feeling of my hips spreading/expanding started very shortly before my water broke w/ Milo.  My concern of an early labor is ever-present, especially with the L.P.'s work schedule.  Chances of my husband being at the birth are a good 50/50.  Maybe 10/90.  Hell if I know...but I'm an eternal optimist and, as I've aged and experienced, I've grown to trust in the universe that things will happen, as they happen , as they should be, as they were meant to.

So I haven't spent much energy on worrying about a birth plan or the "what to do with Milo plan." I even wrote a poem about it:

What will be will be.
That is the philosophy for me.
I think I'll go hug a tree.

For all I know Milo could be holding my left leg telling me to, "push MAMA, PUSH!"

Part of EQ (emotional intelligence) is knowing what you can control and knowing what you can't. 

As I emerge deeper into the 3rd trimester, closer to the day where I meet my new little boy, feeling the typical aches and pains and fatigue and the oh-em-gee there is going to be a baby up in this house again, I'm not worrying.

Even when a bolt of lightening splits a tree in our front yard and it'll cost lotso money to cut the tree down.
Even when my car needs new brakes and a tire rotation.  And a new windsheild.
I'm not worrying.
Even when my husband will be on "sea duty" for the next 2 years.
I'm not worrying.
Even when my mom plans on moving out west in less than a year and all that she has helped us with will not be so readily available.

I AIN'T WORRYING!

Because I prefer the fairy and gnome happy happy hippy life...



I gotta love that man...





Just a minute of your time

Yes I've been known to delude myself
So let me put those rose
Colored glasses to the test

Now is this real enough for you
'cause blondes here don't jump out of cakes
If that never impressed you much

Come board this lunatic express

~tori amos
"almost rosey"



30 weeks and signs that suggests the existence of fact, condition, or quality

Signs you are a parent of a toddler:

1. You have no problem deciphering sentences like, "Ova da smah beez! SMAH BEEZ MAMA!"

2.  You find it endearing when he says, "I tooted!  I tooted again!"

3.  You find yourself counting to three several times a day.  "One.  TWO.  THREE!  Get over here, NOW!"

4.  Upon arriving at the grocery store you go straight to the nearest display of chips and ask your toddler to choose one so that you may shop in (relative) peace and timeliness.  And to keep him in the cart.

5.  And then, upon checkout, forget about the empty bag of doritoes in your pocket and -unintentionally- shoplift (whoops!).

6.  You find yourself *giving in* and letting the child have a popsicle at 7:30 in the morning (peace and quiet, yes?).  And then you wonder why he won't eat his cheerios and banana.  And then, the next morning, wonder why you're dealing with a whiny toddler for 20 minutes because he heard the words, "We don't eat popsicles in the morning.  It's breakfast time! Now eat your Cheerios!"

7.  You have increased upper body strength from "airplaning" a tantruming toddler from the car to the house.  Or from the store to the car.  Or from the playground to the car. Or...

8.  After a time out, you approach the toddler to explain to him why he was in time out and he says, "NO, GO AWAY. YOU STAY BACK!"

9.  You ask the toddler if he would like a piece of granola bar.  He says, "NO, WANT IT!"  Then as you turn away, toddler quickly whines, "GIVE IT TO ME!  I want bar!  I want bar!"

10.  You measure your time in how many hours left until naptime, or bedtime.

11.  You measure your worth by the words, "Mommy, come sit down" as toddler pats the space next to him.


photo curt-sy of this biotch



Signs you are pregnant and you have a toddler:

1.  You find toddler to be oh-so-cute and observant when he says, "Mommy toot!  Mommy toot AGAIN!"

2.  "Mommy burped!  Mommy burped again!"

3.  Toddler says, "Mommy tummy big!  OH, BIG TUMMY!"  As he lifts up your dress or shirt and starts smacking and poking your stomach.

4.  The morning ritual of toddler tip toeing into your room and then loudly exclaiming, "Get up mommy!  Wake UP!"

5. And then he says, "Mommy, where's da pants? Oh, put on your pants..."

6.  You're toddler looks more well rested/well fed and overall more put together than you do.

7.  You find yourself saying to your spouse, "Mommy's going to go potty and then it's naptime."

8.  You look down at your shirt and see traces of toothpaste, peanut butter, and juice.  And you could care less because you're down to a select few fitting and stylish shirts.

9.  You watch the show, "I didn't know I was pregnant" and think, "Who are these dumb bitches who were lucky enough not to have ONE symptom of pregnancy AND they already have a child?!"

10.  You think shaving, wearing make-up, and putting on dangling earrings are for skinny, well-rested bitches who get to drink tequila with people over the age of 2. (at least).  And a "night cap" is 2 Tums chased by a shot of Peptobismal.  At the late hour of 9pm.

11.  You measure your time in weeks.

12.  You many have bouts of forgetfulness but you know EXACTLY how many weeks pregnant you are and how many weeks left.

13.  You measure your self worth by the words, "Mommy, I want big tummy, too!"

Stats of the resident prego:

Still to go:
10 weeks

Which is:
70 days

Time passed:
30 weeks

Weight gain:
13.5lbs

Fundal height:
measuring at 32 weeks.  Which means I'm measuring 2 weeks bigger than I should be.  Doc says this is not cause for changing the due date.    Psshhht. She's no fun...

Blood Pressure:
110/50 (cool as a cucumber)

And, starting this week, "do your kick counts!"  Uh...no problem with that one, doc.  Bytheway, is there such a thing as TOO much movement?  And, no, I'm not fueling myself with power-sugar-energy coffee drinks...that's just the way he is rollin' baby!!  And that baybay is kickin' and punchin' and elbowin' and kneein' EV-VER-RY-WHERE!

I'd also like to welcome back my old friend, Shortofbreath.

"You might get winded easily as your uterus expands beneath your diaphragm, the muscle just below your lungs."

NO SHIT.

In related news, stomach acid does not belong in my throat.  Or my mouth.  Yum.

Fun thought o' the day:
"Did my water just break or is this a bad case of the butt sweats?"

Pregnancy in the summer is FUN FUN!

P.S.  I may be 7.5 months pregnant and uh..not 21years old...but that ain't stopping me from shopping at Forever 21...

Forever Twenty-One: it ain't just for skinny non-pregnant free-livin' bitches...