Cranky Thy Name is Me

I have officially started the "maybe this isn't so much fun" part of my third trimester. Which - is to be followed by the "I hate the world" and then "I am going to reach out and get this kid out myself if it doesn't come soon" part of the third trimester.

First off - I'm pretty sure that my doctor's office has stock in the lab. They sent me to get 6 vials of blood drawn and two urine samples taken in a matter of a week and a half. Even though my glucose test was fine they said that the second draw was one point high so I have to follow the gestational diabetes diet which has me eating seven, yes seven, times a day. And not fun things like cake and hamburgers. String cheese, boiled eggs, etc. I am sick of chewing. On top of that I'm anemic and have to take Iron pills twice a day (on top of all the other prenatals and fish oils) that make me sick.

I have never had trouble sleeping. Ever. If anything I have trouble waking and staying awake. Now even though I'm exhausted I lay there with my eyes wide open. Every time I need to change positions I grunt and exhale as if I were performing a task for the Olympics.

The other night my ankles were so swollen that I had to laugh out loud. I had never seen one of my body parts in such an unknown position. About an inch up my leg was literally rolled over and touching the top of my foot. Not unlike an elephant's foot. Not even cankles. Just thigh - followed directly by swollen toes.

My anger goes from zero to 800 in no time at all. I boil over anything (but mostly nearly everything my husband says or does) I'm pretty sure that he's expecting my head to begin spinning around any time now.

Yes - I'm cranky but I'm also still elated. The baby is moving so much that my whole belly moves. I just lay there and watch her. I get to have my 3d ultrasound on the 6th of September so I get to see her little face. I read that she recognizes my voice (now if it were saying more than just cuss words!) I feel like I know her a little bit and that we share our own secrets. She is so close to me right now and I love it. I drum on my belly for her and sing country songs loudly. I stare at every little girl that I see these days and wonder what mine will be like. It's like I'm cranky outwards but completely dreamy inwards.

Despite being uncomfortable and waddling and breathing heavy I consider myself truly blessed.

Book Reviews

I read a ton of books and have decided to start talking about them on my blog - if not for anything else but for me to keep track of what I read and what I liked or disliked! (gotta love pregnancy brain)

Ignore the Search Inside logos - obviously I stole the cover shots from Amazon.com!

First of all - I love me some T.C. Boyle (or T.Coraghessan Boyle as his friends call him). One of the few authors that I check out the jacket cover picture more than once while reading his book. He looks like a more intense Gene Wilder in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and loves to pose in his vests and disheveled hair. I have read his collection of short stories and Tortilla Curtain. What strikes me as most interesting about his stories is that he points out a million ironies - without making a personal statement. Tortilla Curtain was about illegal Mexican Immigrants but you still wouldn't know if he was for or against border control. Drop City was about a hippie compound and a "mountain man" in Alaska and how their paths meet. He is by far the king of comparison and contrast and his books really make you think.

This book really hit home for me. I'm at a point in my life where I am beginning to think a little less liberal than I once did. I was a self-proclaimed hippie but now realize that it is a title that many hide behind. Like musician. Many musicians aren't musicians, they are people that don't want to work and would like to drink all day and have sex with random girls/guys. Many people (ahem Oakley's mother) claim to be hippies when really they're just lazy and can't handle being held accountable for their actions. They choose not to work at certain places or to live near that mountains for their "energy" when really they need to get their asses out of the woods and into the nearest Denny's to support their free love children. Also, they can't be choosey about where they live. And, even if you are picky about where you live... then why in the hell would you choose not to keep it clean? Isn't clutter bad for your CHI? And - this is the one that really gets me... if you're so anti-establishment how DARE you accept public assistance! The 17-year old Nisha would not have said these things.

The book makes you compare and consider -

- prostitution vs. free love vs. using your body and looks to get what you want

- living off the land vs. ruining the land

- vegetarians vs. meat eaters vs. fur trappers (and killing bugs vs. animals)

- revenge

- using ideals as they were meant vs for your own personal gain

- views of a woman's role in the world

And a whole lot more. And you're not spoon fed, not at all. He is subtle and you are constantly stopping to think.

Augusten Burroughs, how I love thee! I poured over Running with Scissors and Dry but have to admit that I really loved Magical Thinking. There were parts of Running w/ Scissors that made me cringe and perhaps Dry hit a little too close to home and my years of drinking profusely. Magical Thinking was very David Sedaris like (who I adore and would love to have lunch with someday. Picture it: Me, him, Stevie - a buffet! That's heaven right there is what it is). The only difference is he's a tad darker than Sedaris, which is ok by me. I do have to admit to skipping over one of the stories becaue it was about killing a rat thing and it made me too sad. I feel like I can hear the collective groans but I couldn't handle to think of him being sprayed with roach spray, helpless in a bathtub.

I also feel like I need to say that anyone that saw the movie Running with Scissors and based their decision on the book on that monstrosity - please think again. The book is 10x better. I know that everyone says that but I haven't had such a horrible book vs movie comparison since Memoirs of a Geisha, which I turned off after 10 minutes.

Burroughs is so raw and candid. Coming from a person that feels the need to divulge too much of myself to people this is very refreshing.

Also - if you're looking for an afternoon read I suggest My Horizontal Life, Confessions of a One-Night Stand by Chelsea Handler (from girls behaving badly). She is definitely much more of a comedian than a writer but once you get past that it's very enjoyable. Much like Jenny McCarthy Belly Laughs - take it for what it is and it will give back. I laughed out loud quite a few times. The way she described the naked midget jumping down off of the toilet about sent me over the edge. Or the man with the penis so small that it was like a little clitoris... classic! (p.s. can't say I can relate to the midget but the little penis thing - oh yeah). So for any girls that have had a drunken, hotacious period in their life this book is for you. . . and me!

Lab Strut

My glucose test came back just fine and that's a huge relief. Not to say that the test wasn't a pain in the ass. But, like most things - the building up to it was worse. It's like with getting my blood drawn, I hate it and I'm petrified of needles. But the moments leading up to getting my blood drawn are much worse than the action itself. Yes, the prick hurts but it's almost a relief when it finally happens. Speaking of which, my arms look like that of a heroin addict. Well, perhaps not that bad but they are pretty bruised. One woman missed the vein and dug with the needle until she found it. I was very relieved when I didn't get her again for the other three blood draws. The test didn't make me as sick as I thought it would but I was sure stuck on stupid. After not eating and drinking pure sugar I could hardly finish a full sentence. I can't tell you how excited I was to learn that Meagan and I were going to the Pizza Hut buffet afterwards. I walked in there like a champ and was like "let's get this over with" and after my fourth blood draw I'm pretty sure I strutted out of that lab.

My 3d ultrasound is scheduled! September 6, at 10:00. Sooooo excited to see what she looks like. Every time Brian and I get into the conversation of "I hope she has my _____ and your____" we end up offending eachother. He didn't know that I didn't want my children to have his thin lips. I didn't know that he wasn't a huge fan of my button nose!

I had another doctor's appointment yesterday and I am up 8 lbs total for the pregnancy. I am so relieved but know that this trimester is when the real action happens!

I have honestly loved the second trimester. For all my complaining I have had quite a bit of energy and have just been so happy and dreamy. I spend a lot of time in Evelynn's nursery touching all of her stuff and taking stuff out of drawers just to put them back in. Of course, money's a stress - but people do it every day with much less. Lord knows I didn't have a beautiful nursery or a closet full of things. I had young parents that lived in the basement of a friend's hotel. A haunted hotel at that! I can see why God made the third trimester so difficult. You have to be so sick of being pregnant to be ok with labor. If someone told me I was to give birth tomorrow I would not be ok - pregnancy isn't that bad! Sure I have a huge supply of Tums on my dresser, my gums bleed and I'm beginning to waddle. But I can live with this.

Oakley and I are reading Superfudge and that has been a huge help in him accepting the baby. He gets excited to read everynight and understands what he's reading and breaks out in huge belly laughs. Especially when Fudge tries to sell his little sister. He told me last night that he can't wait to see his sister. That's the first time he's said something endearing like that. Up until now he has just requested ear plugs so that he can sleep through the night.

Oh! At the doctor's office I nearly passed out. I was sitting there and broke out into a cold sweat like nothing I've ever experienced and saw spots. I had to lay down with my arms over my head. It took FOREVER for the doctor to come in and when she did I quickly told her that something just wasn't right. She said it was hypoglecemia (or is it hyper) and went to get me some cheese and a juice box. I felt better fairly quickly. Apparently I need to eat more than a bowl of frosted mini wheats in the morning. AND - they think I may have a UTI and I need to go to the lab and give a urine sample. I have put this off. I am so sick of that damn place!

Will give blood for cake

I've probably mentioned before that my future daughter enjoys cake - and her mother enjoys this craving also. For breakfast, lunch a snack - I love me some cake.

When I was only a few months pregnant I had a dream that I was walking through the baby clothes section of a department store, touching everything and crying because I had been diagnosed with gestational diabetes. This became one of my "weekly fears" (which have been everything from SIDS, pooping on the table, autism, downs and the baby loving her dad more than me). I cut down on the sugar a little bit but not all the way.

Fast forward to week 27 of my pregnancy and my 1-hour glucose test. The nurse practioner told me to cut out sugar for two days before it and eat a breakfast with protein beforehand. I thought I had it in the bag. I ate an egg-filled tortilla before the test and forced down the nasty orange concoction. 4 vials of blood and an hour later I was out the door and feeling very woozy. I honestly probably shouldn't have driven home.

On Tuesday my doctor's office called to say that they had test results back. I knew that meant something because they said that they would just go over the test results at my next app't (Monday the 20th) I called the next morning and she said that I am low on Iron and asked if I had been feeling tired. Hhhhhmmmm. Let me think - tired, pregnant - hell yes I'm feeling tired! Then I thought - HOT DAMN! I'm just low on Iron! Nope - not just low on Iron. They want your blood sugar below140 and mine was 152. SO I have to do the three hour test.

This has brought up so many of my irrational thoughts. I'm not good at being pregnant. Other women are better than me. If I weren't overweight, or had willpower to not eat cake then I would be fine. The doctor even told me that 90% of the time the 3-hour tests come out negative. But just that I have to be retested has sent me into a completely irrational spiral. I know that it has a lot to do with horomones and the emotions of pregnancy but I am so upset with myself. I went to bed at 8 last night and couldn't wake up this morning for the life of me. I had dreams that I couldn't remember which foods had protein in them.

Even if I do have gd then it's not the end of the world. I will just have to monitor my diet. I know this. I also know that 2-7% of women get it and that it goes away after pregnancy. I know that I'm lucky to have a healthy baby in me and a healthy pregnancy (as far as I can tell). Perhaps it's the thought of a retest. I wast the girl in Elementary school that NEVER had to retake her spelling test on Friday because I always aced it on Wednesday. Sometimes I did so well that I got to GIVE the Friday spelling test. Oh yes - I was that freakin cool.

Right now I want to cry. I picture the disapproving looks from other mom's with their Eddie Bauer strollers and sweaters perched on their shoulders when I tell them that I failed my one-hour glucose test. They will then tell me that they ate completely organic, met with their personal trainer daily and gave birth completely natural. Irrational? Yes - I know this. But when did a pregnant woman (with or without her Eddie Bauer stroller) ever claim to be rational? That's like claiming to not be tired.

My Baby Shower

My shower was super fantastic.

Heather, Clara and Brandy all did such a great job. It wasn't too cheesey and it was decorated so cute. Pink and Green everywhere.

I thought that with me having a little girl that there would be a lot of little outfits, hats and shoes that she would grow out of quickly but people were extremely practical. Diapers, onsies, wash cloths, etc. And Believe Me - I'm not complaining. Plus, this means I get to buy all the little outfits that she will grow right out of! : )

Enchanted

"I finally get it" said Heather as we glided out of Tim's Toyota Center still under the spell of Stevie Nicks. Over the 6 years that we've known eachother she's listened to me ramble about how she is my absolute favorite. Hell, I wanted to name this baby Rhiannon but that was quickly vetoed by my husband. I know many of the stories behind her songs and cried in my gray Stevi-like dress when I snuck into a Pharmacists convention to see her in San Diego when I was 19. I honestly don't think that anyone can completely grasp the presence that is Ms. Nicks until you see her in concert. The scarves, the shawls, the boots, the spinning it's intoxicating.

My sister was able to put a check next to one of her "to do" items on her life list after Friday night. She danced, she cried, she pissed off the lady in front of her by sloshing a little whiskey. When I say she cried I suppose that's an understatement. During landslide she had a mini-breakdown. I do blame Stevie though, while singing this song she had a slideshow of pictures of her and her father in the background. Poor Clara walked (ok stumbled) out with no mascara on her eyelashes but instead had it strategically wiped all over her eyelids and cheek bones. I sat dry-eyed but remembered dancing to Landslide with my dad at my wedding. I didn't cry all day but suddenly let out a sob as we danced. This was the song that I would listen to when I was in California and realized that I had been a stubbon, dramatic fool. I even taped it and sent it to my dad - whether or not he listened to it I'll never know but that was my way of saying "I screwed up, you were right".

Evelynn wasn't overly active during the concert but I did stand and hold my belly while I danced with her. I imagine this isn't the last time that we will rock to these songs.

Rhiannon was by far my favorite song that she performed. I had goosebumps and a lump in my throat. This was closely followed by Gold Dust Woman and Lanslide.

Call her a witch, call her dried up but I call her amazing. I call her music an escape to poetry and rhaspy throats from belting out lyrics and slamming my hand on the steering wheel. She is and always has been completely enchanting.

27 Candles

I feel like Molly Ringwald today where it seems like nothing right can happen on her birthday. I really hope it ends with a cake and Jake Ryan.

I woke up this morning on the verge of tears - probably left over from being quite butt hurt yesterday when my husband told me that he had scheduled band practice for tonight. He un-scheduled it but the damage is already done. I got to work to find out that a person that I used to be super close to who I got the job here and has been here less time than me was moving into her own office. I then got an email saying that the pay cuts would go into August. At lunch I came home to Buddy having shit on the carpet (I didn't get too mad because I asked Oakley to let him out this morning and I'm not sure if he did - it's not like the dog to do that and he hasn't since he was a puppy). The afternoon is picking up. The carrot cake from the company helped. A regular paycheck would have been better.

Brian is making me dinner tonight and we will all hang out and have a quiet evening together.

Clara and Brandy get here on Friday and this is more needed than I thought it would be. My bday party has turned into a full-fledged pity party. . . and if anyone can snap me out of that it's them.

So - bring on Stevie Nicks and the baby shower. Maybe that's my equivilant to Jake Ryan and a cake.

Transition Day

Any step-parent can recognize and dread the term transition day. This is the day that you get your stepson/daughter and the day that you send them back.

The day that you get them you spend the entire day insisting that all the rules are the same and do, in fact, still exist. This makes for a very awkward day because you are so excited to see them. In cases like mine where my stepson has zero rules at his mom's house this can make for an interesting day.

The worst is the transition day when you have to send them back to their other life. Yes, this is a fact of life for a stepmother, but it's certainly not easy. Never have I been relieved to see him go. Instead I dread what kind of week he will have. What nonsense will be put into his head, what kind of people he will be taken around, where he will be sleeping, etc.

The uneasiness of this day is multiplied by 20 when said mother changes her plans 4-5 times a day. There have been times that Oakley has been patiently waiting on the couch, with his coat on for his mother to come only to get a phone call after 30 minutes of waiting that it won't be until later that afternoon.

Today she was supposed to come and pick him up between 12 and 3. Very ambiguous if you ask me. Of course this was met with the behavior of Who's rules do I follow between now and then? How much can I get away with? What kind of punishment can I get if I'm leaving today anyways? Where exactly do I belong? Is it wrong to be excited to go to my mom's? Is it wrong to be a little sad to leave my dad's? Also, the dreaded "ask your stepmother a million times how much longer until my mom gets here". Which, even the most level-headed person gets a little butt hurt upon hearing. Today she called at 11:30 and talked to Oakley to find out what to pack for Camp Verde. She has been complaining a lot that it's too hard to let him go and that she cries because she misses him so much. Fine. Come get him first thing Sunday morning. Oh no! Instead she calls at 11:30 and says that she'll be here between 3 & 4 (change of plans #2). Then she calls and says that her car doesn't have air conditioning and that she was wondering if we would bring him into town so she doesn't "have to drive all the way to Dewey" (not like I don't do it every morning to take him to his "school".) Change of plans # 3. I was pissed - we don't have a/c in our cars either. Brian has been at work since 4 am. I told her that it was up to Brian and he AGREED to come home from working all day, pick up Oakley, turn back around and drive a half hour and then drive all the way back home.

I find it very hard to believe that a woman that truly misses her child would even take an air conditioner into consideration. My daughter isn't born yet but I would walk to the ends of the earth if I hadn't seen her for a week. She even has the audacity to tell Oakley that she cries while he's gone because she misses him so much. No child should have that kind of burden.

So - today was like many Sundays. A confused little boy not sure how to express his feelings and a pissed off stepmother - angry that she is the more qualified person for the job, but will never equal his mother. I've accepted this. Is it easy? Hell no.

Might have been the Iced Soy Mocha!

She cooperated! She had her feet up and she was playing with her toes. Perfect time to catch a peek. I really hope that her vagina is never on the internet again! But here she is in all of her glory! I'm so excited! Now if I could only win the lottery and begin shopping! (or if only I had a nickel for every freakin' exclamation point - my hell! Sorry! haha.)

I had to whore myself for diapers...

It seems like everyone has a story of falling on hard times while they were pregnant. "we were so young... your father had been laid off... your father had gotten his 2nd DUI (this one is a personal one from my childhood!)... Grandma died... the great depression began", etc.

But not me! I waited until I was married and had my own house, dog, cat and husband. I was "doing it the right way". That is until...

1. My work cut our pay by 20% - which has equalled over $400 a month.
2. My dog tore his claw and the vet bills cost $270 (so far).
3. The air conditioners went out on my car - and Brian's.
4. My state tax refund has yet to arrive
5. Work started doing layoffs - which so far I have avoided
6. Medical bills for prenatal care started rolling in.
7. HOA dues are due.
8. Just to begin and name a few.

I have to shake my head and chuckle a little. Or else I would cry. I waited until I was 27 to start a family. People do it at 16 and make it look easier. They have multiple children. I am petrified of affording one. My dad had two daughters without health insurance. My grandma had her first baby at 15. Surely we can get through this.

Perhaps this is just part of the pregnancy experience. It will give me a chance to gingerly remind my hellion teenager of all that I had to endure while pregnant with her. Of course then I will throw in the birth story (exaggerated of course because my labor will be fairly quick and painless - with absolutely no tearing).

Speaking of vaginas - fingers crossed that the baby flashes hers tomorrow! 80% just isn't good enough for me.

What they don't tell you in Health Class... but should

I have come to the conclusion that in order to scare teenage girls away from becoming pregnant they need to talk to a girl that is currently pregnant. Nearly all teenage girls are completely wrapped up in appearances and trying to be "normal". There is nothing normal about pregnancy. If there was ever a time in your life that you feel more like a freak of science - it's now. Keep in mind - I am only 20 weeks, things will get worse... I realize this (and yet people feel the need to laugh at me and say "just wait" like I'm stupid) I'm not stupid and I am fully prepared to revisit this topic in a few months.

1. You bloat. I'm convinced this happens right after conception. Every bit of fat on your body suddenly swells and sitting, breathing and crossing your legs becomes a chore.

2. Your hair becomes thick and lustrous - ALL your hair. Everywhere. It grows much quicker also. And grooming? Forget about it. Unless you get waxed by a professional all of the unwanted hair is hard to reach and you are tired and cranky. Your husband will be sleeping next to sasquatch.

3. You become stupid. Not cute Jessica Simpson stupid. Literally retarded. You forget in middle of sentences that you were even talking. Once I came home from the store and walked into the house and left my car running.

4. Your china swells. It swells so bad that sometimes when you pee late at night (one of the 8 times you get up to pee) the pee shoots straight to the left because of the swelling. It runs down your hairy legs and you are too tired to care. You also get the same "happy trail" that looks so sexy on men. It does not look sexy on you and becomes longer as you grow bigger.

5. Your farts stink worse than the dogs and you become extremely gassy.

6. You don't have your period but don't throw those pads out! You get discharge, lots of discharge - or twatsnot if you will.

7. Unless your mother and grandmother didn't get them you WILL get stretchmarks! All of the vitamin E, cocoa butter, olive oil, what have you does not help. And slathering yourself up (as Jenny McCarthy so delicately put it in her book Belly Laughs) makes you feel like you are greasing a huge ham.

8. You are either constipated or have diahrrea.

9. You get acne.

10. Your belly gets in the way during sex and you feel more like you are sumo wrestling your husband.

11. Strangers offer you advice as well as their own horror stories.

12. You get more boogers. Tons of boogers, and bloody ones. Just like your cervix becomes more "mucusy" so does your nose. There's a term called Pregnant Rhino-something or another. What this means is that you constantly have your finger in your nose.

13. You smell everything. You give you husband a complex because you can smell the sweat that has not left his body and you ask him daily if he forgot his deoderant.

I am very sure that if the guest speaker at the sex ed class walked in and showed her ungroomed, swollen vagina while letting out the worst fart on earth - covered in Acne, finger in her nose, bloated and adorned in stretch marks... girls might think twice.

*disclaimer - don't get me wrong. I am delighted to be pregnant and so excited to have a baby. Many women feel like if they complain about their pregnancies then they are somehow being ungrateful. This is not meant to come across that way and I would love to type more but I need to change my pad and grease up my ham.

It's a GIRL! (or so we think...)

The ultrasound was yesterday at 9:00 am. We dropped Oakley off at zoo camp and then went to Denny's so that I could eat sugary pancakes and drink some OJ so that the baby would be awake and moving. No such luck - she was sound asleep and wouldn't wake up. She also had her legs crossed the entire time. The tech had me try to go to the restroom (which sometimes wakes them up and was a huge relief because I had to show up with a full bladder - which in pregnancy language means ready to burst, literally) lay on my left side and she even kept wiggling my belly and pressing the ultrasound thingie on it to jar it awake. She must be as stubborn as her parents. We saw many of the organs but I'm measuring a week less than I thought I was (17 weeks and a few days rather than 18) so it was difficult to get great pictures. She knew right away that we would need to come back in a few weeks but was very determined to find out if we had a cheeseburger or a hot dog. Finally - she said "ok - do you want to know what I think?" Well - yeah! She said that she is 80% sure that it is a girl. They look for 3 lines and she saw 2 and no sign of a penis. Also, girls tend to be a little more shy and have their legs closed up.

Brian and I are so excited. I am a little scared that I am going to be in high-girl mode and then have to do a 180 come July 3rd. Brian started making phone calls and wasn't even mentioning the whole 80% chance - he was just like "it's a girl!" This also makes me nervous because I feel like I really need to produce a girl now - as if I have any control at all.

I will hold tight for 3 more weeks but I do have to admit that I have pink visions dancing through my head. I am picturing dance recitals, soccer games and tea parties. I can't wait to see my husband head over heels for a little girl. I have even bid on the cutest bedding set on eBay that is sage green w/ pink roses. In my strange supersticious way I'm convinced that if I win the bid then this is even more of a sign that it's a girl! If not, then thank goodness for returns.

Random

On Wednesday night I told Oakley that he could make his own lunch. If I had been given this opportunity I would have made a peanut butter and honey sandwich and filled it full of junk food. Not Oakley. He decided to make a "wrap" (what 8-year old knows the term wrap and orders balsamic vinegarette at restaurants?) he put refried beans in a tortilla and topped it with cherry tomatoes. He asked if we had any lettuce and I said we only had Spinach. This was actually a good thing to him and he covered that in Spinach leaves. He then put more tomatoes in a ziploc baggie and packed some crackers. I hope that the new baby get these eating habits - however I doubt that we will be that lucky.

When I went home after my doctor's appointment and filled Brian in on my decision not to do the testing on the baby (I would have considered his side if he wanted to do them - but he didn't) and he was like "well - of course we don't have to do genetic testing - I'm the Dad!" Duh hon, not paternity testing!

Brian's best man Chris is in town for his "gig" tonight. This meant that Brian went out and got a blow up mattress and made the bed, set out towels and soap, etc. He was so proud of himself. Oakley loves him some Chris - and don't get me started on Buddy. He wouldn't go back to sleep at 1 this morning when he knew that Chris was out there and may or may not want to pet and wrestle with him.

Oakley came home with an envelope "To Dad, From Oakley" Inside was a picture of our family with my name spelt Necha. All of the stick figures in a row. If you turn it over it has a stick figure laying down with spiked hair and says "the new kid". Apparently this is the new baby in its crib. I am going to keep it for the baby book. It is the cutest thing.

Perhaps I should include a picture of what happens when your husband decides to serve beer that's 9% alcohol and the DJ plays "Baby got Back"

Random post much?

Uncle Traveling Max

As I was replaying my trip to Utah and Nevada in my head I was reminded of Uncle Travling Max on the Fraggles. I loved him.

Thursday 8:00 am - Went to work to hitch a ride to the post office to catch the airport shuttle. Drove for an hour and a half in the back of a van with a driver with a death wish. There were a few times that I literally thought I would get sick. All I could do was hold my stomach and breathe. Arrive at the airport in record time (although I had plenty to spare and would have preferred to use it.) Went through security without a problem only to find out that my terminal didn't have crap to eat as far as morning snacks go. I ordered a kid's meal from Wendy's and sat on the ground and dipped my fries in my frosty. I save the Cheeseburger for later and ate it before we landed. Once in SLC I got my suitcase and waited patiently for my sister - and waited, and waited. We used to have a rule that you would just wait on the sidewalk while the other circled and then picked you up I wasn't sure if we had decided to fall back on this rule or not. I called her on her cell from a pay phone using my credit card. It cost $3.86 - absolutely ridiculous. We then went straight to pick up our friend Cristina - who hasn't changed even a little bit. My favorite trait in someone is their ability to laugh at themself - she has this in abundance. We went to a head shop (sp?) - I wanted a button that said "I promise I don't smoke pot while pregnant" Instead I hung out in the front of the store and tried to pretend to be very interested in the display of Nag Champa. We then went to the party store to pick up some more nautical decor for Lamont's graduation party and then off to see Cristina's new house (totally cute by the way! : )

Next stop - Uncle Jim's house where we had a bbq with all of the cousins and my four second cousins. A visit to this house is like stopping at a Texaco and filling up my soul. I always leave with a huge smile on my face. In a world where so many are trying to appear perfect - they are perfectly real and wonderful. We had a yummy bbq and then went to bed and got up and had coffee with Aunt Jody. Then, off to Elko! After a three hour drive I arrived on Morning Breeze Drive to the house that I have lived in since I was 9. I was greeted by the cat that I got in 7th grade. LaMont's graduation was that night at 7 pm. Clara and I dragged him into the backyard for pictures. He was so handsome and I was so proud. Graduation was hell as they usually are. The same speeches that go on far too long, etc. Afterwards we went out to pizza and then off to bed. LaMont followed suit and didn't go out at all. If I was proud before I was beaming now. I can only hope that this baby is as good as my little brother. Maybe he actually learned from watching Clara and I that partying isn't everything. Or maybe we did enough for all three of us.

Saturday we woke up and went to a casino breakfast with the grandparents. It was such an enjoyable visit. Then we went to set up the graduation party and get ready. Before the party Clara and I had to pick up the sub sandwiches, stop and blow up balloons, hang balloons at all of the turns, etc. This was after we had gone to Walmart and Fashion Bug for nautical tops and shoes. The party was quite a success - but came before we were ready. I was busy stressing myself out over a veggie tray that I somehow convinced myself had to be perfect while Clara and Brandy were running around doing last minute preparations. The food was fantastic and the company was so great. I saw family friends that I've known my whole life. The DVD that I made of LaMont's life in pictures was a hit. My dad and I left at about 7 and I was in bed by 9. The rest of the party stayed up and lit a fire and drank some wine. Compared to some of the parties we've had this was G rated!

Sunday was supposed to be our relaxing day that we didn't have anything planned. Somehow we still managed to run around for most of the day. My dad bbq'd that night and this made 2. We saw Shrek 3 later that night. I think it was the best by far.

Monday morning - back on the road after a couple of stops to say Hi/Bye. Three hours later we arrive in Tooele and stop by Aunt Holly's. LaMont braved the Pequops by himself and was very proud of himself. By the time we were his age we had done the drive from Elko to Tooele a million times by ourselves so this was his rite of passage. By this time Clara has been really tired and her ear has been bothering her for about a day and a half. I drop her off and jump in the car and meet Tracey and Austin at Albertson's. I drag them with me to pick up the ingredients for some artichoke dip and Tylenol for my pounding head. We went had had yummy, overpriced ice cream and then went back to Aunt Holly's to make the dip and visit. We then went to our third bbq. I ate the most at that bbq of the whole weekend. It may have been that they had shrimp salad or that the hot dogs were black on the outside but I think I may have had like three plates. At this bbq I had one grandpa, two uncles, four aunts, and seven cousins (did I mention that I did a little bit of visiting family over the course of 6 days?) I was able to pick my Aunt's brain a little bit because she is a labor and delivery nurse. I, of course, asked her about pooping on the table and all of that fun stuff. But - lately my biggest fear is that I am going to make a complete melodramatic fool out of myself and the nurses and everyone else are going to be irritated with me. I would love to think that I am going to be brave - but I'm pretty sure once the epidural wears off it will be like one of those morning waking up after too much to drink and remembering slowly all of the stupid things you did. This is one of the many reasons that there will not be a camcorder in the room. We then went to visit the grandparents and a couple more Aunts and Cousins. I sat and talked and talked about the pregnancy while Clara sat there. I didn't realize that she was more quiet than usual. Suddenly I looked over and realized that she was beet red. More than any rash that she's ever had. She said she didn't feel very good and got tears in her eyes. My sister never cries, ever - and if she does it's bound to last a few days because it's been building up. Everytime I even see her on the verge I get so nervous. Come to find out she had a 101 degree fever. I felt so bad for not noticing that on the way to take her back to Aunt Holly's I cried right along with her. That night we visited with Aunt Nisha and then went to bed. Clara with a fever and me with my migraine - I puked quite a few times. We were quite the house guests. The next day we had breakfast with LaMont and then they hit the road back to Elko. Clara had a doctor's app't when she got there and had a sinus infection and bronchitis. LaMont drove most of the way home. Aunt Holly drove me to the airport (half hour) and then I got on my flight - but not before eating a small frozen yogurt with oreos and pecans! The flight was shakey and I thought I was going to puke on that too. The shuttle driver back up to Prescott was the worst driver ever! I was so sick and then the air conditioner went out - in Phoenix - in May. I only tipped him a dollar but felt more like smacking him for being such an idiot and needing to talk on his walkie talkie the whole way and almost drive off the road four times.

Then I drove home to my husband and animals. It was so nice to sleep cuddled up with my dog holding Brian's hand again. For all of this talk about needing a vacation - I think that I will be recovering from that one for a while! I am exhausted and think that I may have overdone it. It was worth it though. The biggest high point was strengthening my relatioship with my little brother. I moved out of the house when he was 9 so up to that point it was he and I at eachother's throats. He has always been just a pesky little brother - but I was surprised and delighted to find out that he has turned into a really cool young man. I loved hanging out with him. It's unfortunate that I figure this out right before he goes off to boot camp - but I doubt that I will ever take him for granted. I am such a proud big sister. I am so glad that my baby and Oakley will have a real-life hero to look up to.

16 weeks on Saturday

I had another doctor's appointment this morning and finally met my doctor. She found the heartbeat right away and it sounded very strong. I have decided to opt out of the tests that they run to find out if it has downs syndrome, etc. I feel pretty confident that they would find anything on the measurements that they take during the ultrasound. Also, it wouldn't affect me keeping the baby. I know of a lot of girls that get more scared after these tests. You really learn a lot about yourself when you're in different situations. There are so many things that I thought I would never do or that I would do for sure until I was in that situation.

The big ultrasound is scheduled for June 12th! I'm SO excited. This will let us know whether or not to hose the nursery down in pepto bismol pink or not. I will be happy either way. Oakley however doesn't want to discuss the posibility of a little sister. He wants a little brother SO bad. If we have him I will bring him to the ultrasound, I think it is something that he will always remember.

I am off to Salt Lake and Elko this weekend for my little brother's graduation. I am so excited to see family and go home.

Let the dreaming begin ~

So many women have talked about the crazy, realistic dreams that they have during pregnancy. I noticed fairly early that my dreams seemed to go on all night and it was hard once I woke up to try and figure out what happened the day before and what had been dreamed that night.

The first major dream was hilarious to me. One of my coworkers called me before I had fallen asleep (at about 7:30 pm) and asked me if I could pick her up the next morning because her car was in the shop. I said "no problem" and then layed down and reminded myself over and over to not forget! I dreamt that I was at work and kept gingerly opening my desk drawer and grabbing a black napkin with an extremely rare steak in it. I would then SHOVE the steak into my mouth and chew as blood ran down my mouth and hands. I knew that I hadn't picked up my coworker and was sitting at my desk instead with my eyes rolling back in my head as if I were the Vampire Lestat. I didn't care. I would then wrap up the steak in the black napkin and put it back. Only to do it again, and again. At one point another coworker asked for a bite. Pure fear ripped through my body. I did not want to share.not a little bit.no sharing.no.not for me. The steak melted in my mouth like butter and was seasoned with just the right amount of black peppercorns before being "warmed up" as nothing about this steak was cooked. I woke up just laughing and did end up picking up my coworker. And regaled her with my steak story. I was about 7 weeks along and we decided that the baby needed Iron.

I have had two dreams that I am having a little girl. I am hesitant to mention this in case I am wrong but have decided to so that if I am right then I can act as if the universe told me! Either way me and the universe have a 50/50 chance. The other night I was holding my beautiful little girl and was looking at each feature and trying to decide where she got each of them. Suddenly I recognized her chin! I am lacking a chin - or should I say generations of my family were distracted while the chins were being handed out. She had her daddy's chin! Then, I looked closer and realized that she had her daddy's goatee! I tried to wipe the hair away but it was full blown, thick whisker hair. There was even a gray one in the mix! I did calm down and decided that it would all be ok. But upon waking up and telling Brian he did not seem very impressed.

Speaking of the cosmos and the universe - I am convinced that Ms Stevie Nicks has been booked in the Prescott Valley Ampitheatre as a SIGN. Just as Steve Zahn was cosmically connected to Neil Diamond in Saving Silverman, my baby will be cosmically connected to Ms Stevie through the womb on July 27th. Need more proof? This is two days after my 27th birthday. Also, my sister was able to convince my dad to put the tickets on his mastercard so that all five of us (yes, I rounded up four people from three different cities to go to the concert in 3 hours) could sit together and get good seats. She also convinced him to make my ticket my birthday present. If this isn't proof that everything is aligned and the age of aquarius is upon us then I don't know what is. This coming from the man who when Brian asked for his daughter's hand in marriage said "you're not getting a dime out of me!". And yet I called the ticket office and had this same person charge 5 great seats to see my idol. My husband has decided to remind me that it is not 1973 anymore. I realize this - and in some ways wish that it was. I would have fantastic taste in clothes and hair and would be able to smoke pot to cure morning sickness!

Perhaps I will also convince my husband to name our daughter Rhiannon. So far, it's a no go.

I can say one thing though - this pregnant woman's dream just came true. I get to see Stevie Nicks again (last time I was 19 and cried) with 4 of my most favorite people on earth. I better not wake up.

Vegas Baby!

I went to see my lovely friend Stephanie get hitched in Vegas over the weekend. I didn't cry at my own wedding but hers brought me to tears. It was so sweet. She and her husband are just so great together.

The best part? Everyone went to the World Buffet at the Rio afterwards! Pregnancy + Buffet = very happy me!

I stayed with Brandy so I had a personal chauffer. I think that the worst part of travelling is maps and directions so it was so nice to have someone to cart my ass around! She was so great.

Brian ran the Whiskey Row 10k and it nearly snowed in Prescott that day. He still finished in an hour and five minutes. I am a very proud wife.

It is so nice to get away, but even better to come back home. I had a husband and a dog that missed me very much and that's just the best feeling.

Hwy 69 Dance Party

My 8-year-old stepson's favorite song is Whoomp There It Is - followed closely by C&C Music Factory's Everybody Dance Now.

I have these two songs and others on a mixed CD for him. We listen to it every morning on our 30-minute treck to his "school" in Prescott. And we dance our asses off. He does a killer robot and we both do some serious head bobbing. He is trying to memorize the words to Whoomp There It Is and I'm a little relieved that he is pretty bad at doing so. Isn't this a song about getting laid? Even the title of the song eludes him. For him it is HOOOONT (said from very low in the diaphram) de da diz! HOOOONT! De Da DIZ! HOOOONT! shaka laka shaka laka... I love this time in the morning. We used to try to have serious talks - usually involving the fact that he wished that the whole world were made out of candy and what he would eat first as he stared longingly out of the window. One day I decided to have the "new baby" talk with him. I went on for like 15 minutes about how there is no way that we could ever love the new baby more than him and that he is so important and that he is going to make the best big brother, etc, etc - I about made myself cry. When I was finally done there was a slight pause followed by "Those clouds look weird." I just had to continue driving and cross my fingers that a fraction of what I said may have sunk in, even a little bit. Now all of those mushy talks have been replaced by Oakley and I - shaking our groove thang!

I went to the doctor's yesterday and heard my little bean's heartbeat. Right when she found it I recognized it and this made me feel so maternal. Like perhaps since I can recognize my child's beating heart then I will know what to check for when making sure that it has not died in the middle of the night - or afternoon - or morning. I am sure that there will be a lot of "checking" going on. Hell, I didn't enter Oakley's life until he was in Kindergarten and he thought I was completely loco when I used to sneak in his room to make sure that he was still breathing! When the nurse found the heartbeat she said "Hi mommy, happy early mother's day" and I just teared up. I would love to say that everything came together and seems real now - but all that I can say is that it seems "more real" now. I feel more of a connection to my belly.

After I dropped Oakley off and turned around to make the 30 minute drive back I put in some loud country music and sang my ass off. I drummed on my belly to include the new baby. I hope that one day my bean and I will dance down the highway - it won't have to look far to learn some great moves. No, not me - Oakley.

Welcome - now step directly into a rut....

I think that the most important thing that I have read since becoming pregnant is "There is no right way to do pregnancy". I think that this should be every pregnant woman's mantra. The moment that you find out that you are pregnant and start sharing your news you will find that every person is an expert on how you should be doing things. Like you aren't scared enough after reading a bunch of books and websites suddenly you have strangers telling you how well they did during their pregnancy - that they didn't show until they were 6 months - that they wore heels up until nine months - that they ate only organic products and opted for a natural birth at home - that they worked up until the moment that their water broke. Add all of this to the fact that you are exhausted, scared, sick, on the verge of crazy and you have a very volatile equation!

My first 10 weeks were met by a complete and total rut. One that I'm not completely out of, but doing better. I was in bed by 8 and nothing mattered to me anymore because I was just so tired. I only missed one and a half days of work and I was very proud of that. That being said, I did not look like a model employee. I work in an office that is very casual so we can wear whatever we want. I showed up at work barely out of bed or out of the shower - no make up with pregnancy acne and half asleep. Greasy, unwashed hair or a wet ponytail and stretch pants became my staple look. Add this to a bra with boobs that are spilling out and arm pits that need to be shaved and I am quite the sight to behold!

I started to seriously wonder if I was cut out for pregnancy. I pictured other girls that wouldn't show for months and who were able to wear their professional clothes and keep complete compusure and thought that I was supposed to be like that. (surely they wouldn't throw a wooden spoon covered in taco meat at their husband's head or cry because they sneezed on their arm) I started to wonder if I'm not cut out for pregnancy - then there's no way that I can handle motherhood. One night I turned to Brian and said "I don't want to be pregnant anymore". I didn't mean that I didn't want to have this baby - but I was doubting myself so much and thought that my whole pregnancy would be stuck in this rut. I wanted the nine months to be over.

Now that I am feeling better I am able to look at that time a little more clear headed (a little being the key word). I was seriously handling everything the best that I could and the only way that I knew how. It worked for me. It wasn't fun - I didn't make it look easy or graceful by any means but I did it. The first trimester is a bitch any way you look at it. I know that there will be ups and downs this whole time. I've learned to imagine a woman's plethora of stretch marks as she tells me that she didn't have morning sickness and when they laugh at me because I'm only 11 weeks and say "just wait". I'm not stupid - I know that there is a whole lot ahead of me. I also imagine that these women's vaginas are stretched beyond recognition from their natural births. haha.

My 1st appointment

I realize that this actually took place two days ago - but morning sickness (or all day sickness) has taken full residency and I was in bed for the past day and a half trying not to puke or cry. Sometimes the need to puke would make me cry. It was not a pretty sight. I am feeling a little better today but these food aversions are for the birds... especially coming from a girl that loves to eat and enjoys food. My kitchen makes me sick.

So, now to my appointment. I went in and had to fill out like 80 pages of paperwork. They had me pee in a cup and then wait. The office was a little hard to find and then once I did find it I couldn't find the entrance door! I saw Brian pull up and watched him try to find the door too, it was cracking me up.

We got called back and got my blood pressure taken (Brian stood there holding my purse!) and I got weighed. I have gained 2 pounds. However, I really don't need to be gaining anything. I am petrified of seeing the scale hit numbers that I've never seen before. Then we went into the room and I got into the gown that opens in the front. While I was getting undressed Brian totally averted his eyes! Like he'd never seen me without clothes on! The nurse practitioner came in and went over the family history, etc. She talked about morning sickness and other "complaints". She said that Propel water has been known to help because it has vitamin B6 in it. So then it was time for the Pap and I've never seen my husband want to be somewhere less than at this moment. I slid down on the table and he was like "I'm just going to run across the street and get some of that water you were talking about!" She was like "hold tight and we'll let you hear the heartbeat first!" I really don't see how a man can be more uncomfortable than his wife who is actually getting the pap!

She took the little microphone machine and tried to find the heartbeat. Nothing. I started to panic and she could tell. She told me that my uterus is tilted towards my back and that was probably why. Most doctors would have left it at that. She wheeled in "max" the ultrasound machine (it's an all-woman doctor's office so they named the ultrasound machine Max) and did an "unofficial" ultrasound. I could see the little heartbeat going and felt much better. However, it still doesn't seem "real". I feel like a walking science experiment. I am so sick and tired and gassy - I just don't feel like myself and I definitely find it hard to believe that there is a little person in me. No matter how much research I do.

I can say this: If this nausea lasts for the entire pregnancy then this baby will be an only child!

The Hack Job

This morning I had to be out of the house at 7:30 am to run Oakley to "town" (where his charter "school" is) and be back at work by 8:30. I have been looking forward to my first doctor's app't since I found out I was knocked up. Somehow I still didn't find the time to do the necessary leg shaving and grooming. So this morning I jumped out of bed and grabbed Brian's electric razor and plugged it in. Much to my dismay it didn't reach to the toilet so my first plan to just do my duty over the toilet was foiled.
So, I laid out a plastic bag and tried to hold my belly out of the way and get the job done. Let me preface by saying that my dear husband and I haven't messed around since we found out because he's afraid he will hurt the baby (I will have the doctor nip that in the bud today!) so I was overgrown. And Hello?! Flatter yourself much Brian? haha Anyways, it was more of a job for a machetti than an electric razor. Of course I'm half asleep and the next thing I know I have a bald spot right in the middle and my skin is a strange color because I think that I may have scraped it. In my defense I couldn't really see and was having trouble doing it one handed and making sure that the "clippings" went on to the Safeway bag below.... all while holding my bloated fat to the right. It is really a sad sight. Sigh. There is nothing, nothing cute about pregnancy.
This will be a great first impression for my doctor.

25-35 pounds.

That's the healthy amount of weight to gain during pregnancy. Many women gain as much as 60 pounds. This has me thinking that I will be seeing the inevitable 200 mark on the scale. The one that I never wanted to see.

I haven't completely gone hog wild since finding out about the pregnancy. It hasn't been a free pass to eat whatever I wanted - however the things that I can actually stomach are limited. I am more obsessed with food now than I ever was before. I go through my head and list foods until I land on one that I may be able to go near - and eat. And then, I must have that. Everything else is completely repulsive.

I haven't gained any weight yet. I have tried to continue going on walks. I found out last night that my pilates class has been cancelled. I was hoping to do this throughout the entire pregnancy. I have added a bunch of preggo workouts to my Netflix list and hopefully I will find one that I like enough to buy and start doing. The real workout these days? Getting out of bed and making it through the day! I always loved to sleep. Naps make me smile just at the prospect. Now, I dread climbing back in bed...again! I'm afraid that I will get bed sores anytime now. I am in bed by at least 8 every night and have a hell of a time dragging myself out of bed. I suppose that this is just the first trimester (or as I refer to it - HELL)

My first app't is on Monday and I will get to hear the heartbeat. Hopefully this will put my mind at ease. I have been a complete basketcase thinking that something could be wrong.

I have purchased my plane tickets for my little brother's graduation in May. I am very excited to go home and spend time with loved ones. My sister has decided to throw me an early baby shower since many people won't be able to attend one down here.

Letters from a knocked-up girl...

Dear Mr. Webster,

Please take pity on a first time preggo. I don't know what most of this stuff means. Even after reading online it is difficult. Layman's (sp?) terms please. Thanks!


Dear Preggo book & website authors,

I need you all to put your heads together and get on the same page! It is ridiculous that one person says one thing, while three others say another. I was cross-eyed over the weekend trying to figure out what the hell I could eat or do! Also, can you make it more clear that a miscarriage is not caused by a woman drinking too much caffeine or eating tuna fish, it is from an unhealthy fetus which we have no control over. That information would have been extremely helpful in the beginning while I was petrified that lunch meat may or may not kill my cute little parasite (as I've started calling it much to Brian's horror). Of course, the lunch meat theory is not present in all reports or websites!

What I've learned so far:

~ Listen to your own instinct. I KNEW that I was pregnant despite two negative pregnancy tests. Don't listen to everyone else or start to doubt yourself. Trusting your instinct is a very powerful skill that you will need in 9 months - when everyone will try to tell you what is best for your child.

~ Take all of the prenatal information and put it towards the back of your head. Enjoy this. Nothing you can do can change whether or not God has other intentions for this fetus. When people tell you "not to get your hopes up just in case" kick them in the shins. They are probably the same people that recited the newest divorce statistics when you announced your engagement.

~ HcG is good. We want this to continue to double and triple. For the first time in your life a foreign horomone multiplying is a fantastic thing. Friday the 9th = 66. Tuesday = 590 & Today = 1515!

~ Don't apologize if you panic. This is the first time that you have been through this! When you start spotting at work and think that you are miscarrying and bawl in front of everyone... it's ok. You don't owe any apologies and you would look much more ridiculous if you didn't seem to care.

~ The brain decreases by 8% during pregnancy. This is a valuable excuse as well as... what was I talking about again?

~ Enjoy and write down all that you can. Things have already started to become foggy.

And, the blog is tilted in a different direction

Up until now I have talked about my struggle to get my little brain around being overweight. The reasons for it, what I can do about it, etc. Now, I must gain at least 25 pounds in the next 9 months. Doctor's orders!

Yep, you guessed it right... I'm 6 weeks pregnant!

I have made the decision that I don't want to milk this and sit at home w/ fuzzy slippers and bon bons. Yes, I'm SO exhausted and nauseaus and scared and my boobs hurt like hell. But I'm not handicapped! The best thing I can do is eat right and excercise. And, you know how I talked about battles and how it's easier to do the right thing for others? I actually think about what I am putting in my mouth lately! Go figure! I'm not doing this for me anymore, I need to be healthy for a real little one that is growing in me. . . not a hypothetical someday child anymore.

Also, I am petrified of miscarrying. I am counting down the days until I hit the 11 week mark and the likelyhood is decreased. We've already told so many people... I would just hate to have to tell them bad news. We have had so many elated relatives. It has been so much fun.

Battles

I have been thinking lately about battles. We all have them, but the difference is which ones we choose to take head on. The saying "choose your battles" is true in a million instances throughout our daily lives.

::Said like Carrie Bradshaw::
But I can't help but wonder, when it comes to choosing our battles have we chosen wrong?

Some battles aren't ours to fight, and this can be very frustrating. In the matter of Oakley's mom and my husband, it isn't my battle. I am in the ring, but on the sidelines.. rubbing Brian's shoulders and spraying water in his mouth. But, when he goes to bat there is literally nothing I can do. If I were to run in there and put in my two cents I would just be looked at like "helloooo!? This isn't your fight!" For someone like me who loves my husband and stepson and wants to protect them from all that I can, this just kills me. It is a battle in itself to stay out of it. Believe me, I have put myself out there more times than I can count, but this just leads to complete defeat and feelings of helplessness.

Other battles probably are't as important but these are the ones that we seem to approach with the most gusto. We gear up in our armor with shield and sword and lunge towards our husband because "gasp" he didn't put the clothes away correctly, or (fill in your own example here). Lately, when an ex-friend decided that she hated me and to treat me like pondscum I couldn't confront her on it. One - because we're at work. Two - because I was so angry that I might cry and I hate that because it takes away from how angry I really am. Brian made the comment "why don't you lay into her like you lay into me sometimes?" I couldn't agree with him more, why am I able to be such a flaming bitch to those that I love but not to those who deserve it? More importantly, why is it easier to stand up for those that I love than it is myself? A tip from counseling? Choose your favorite childhood toy and imagine that what is being done to you is being done to them, then proceed accordingly. I went off on some people that had hurt my little "snow tiger!"

My mother passed away when I was 4 1/2 and when I was 16 I found a note that she had written days before she died that hit a core. She wrote "do I surround myself with other people's problems so that I don't have to face my own?" I felt as if my heart had spilled on to the page! I am guilty of that now as I was then. I have had to battle to make myself aware of being too helpful, to the point that I am no longer facing my own demons.

The main battle that I have chosen to ignore lately? The dreaded weight battle. When I should be putting on my armor (or tennis shoes) I have chosen to battle the dishes or laundry... or the leftover pie. When I should be focused and steadfast I have been distracted.

It is so easy to put ourselves on a shelf. I can't imagine that this will get any easier, especially once I have kids. I want so much to be a good example for my children and to teach them healthy choices. I want them to be confident and happy.

Perhaps we could all stand to do some reconfiguring in our lives. The next time our husband does something irritating, choose not to round up the troops. And, the next time that we are treated unfairly, get out your jousting pole and show them what you are made of! Realize when to step up and when to step back. Also, realize when you are just marching in place and need a good smack on the ass to make something happen! Most of all, choose wisely.

Run Forrest Run!

I ran last night!

I was convinced that I would be able to go the equivilant of maybe 3 sidewalk squares TOPS... but I went pretty far down the street without having to stop!

This was a very incognito process mind you. I walked my dog (i.e. my dog pulled me down the street with his huskey-dog-sled instincts) and I went into the part of our housing development that is still being built. This ensured no people or cars would see my attempt. I then let Buddy off of his chain (because he would pull me straight on to my face if he thought it was time to run together) and I ran down the street! I didn't die, didn't keel over or get a side-ache right away... and I was still able to walk home! I went to our little grassy knoll in the housing division and Buddy and I ran back and forth a few times in my attempt at "sprints". This is really just chunky me running back and forth while trying to make sure that my dog doesn't run into the street.

I'm so excited and impressed with myself for being to go as far as I did. AND... for a few seconds... I actually enjoyed myself. Here in AZ it is already Spring weather and the days are longer so it's very refreshing to enjoy some of the sunshine and fresh air. I've actually been excited to do it again tonight before my Pilates class. Go me!

An exeption to the SB clause...

I received a phone call from my dear friend Heather and she asked me
1) if she was the gym buddy that I referred to in a previous post and
2) if I considered her one of the SB's.

First of all, I don't think that we've ever been to a gym. In our day that consisted of seeing how many long island iced teas we could lift in one evening or how many boys she could juggle! Second... No, I do not consider her an SB and here's why:

I've known Heather (light as a heather as I jokingly call her) for about 6 years now. I have seen first hand that the fact that she is a size 0 does not make her life any easier. We both leave the mall with slumped over shoulders because nothing fit us or looks good on us. We both look in the mirror and wince at this or that. And, while I probably have people that pity the chunky girl, she has people that straight out ridicule her! Skinny girls can be self-conscience too. Life isn't all bikinis and McDonald's for them either. While other girls sit around and complain about this or that and she joins in she is quickly put in her place like there must be nothing on earth that could ever affect her. While we were shopping for my wedding dress the sales associate told her that she just needs to eat more while she was holding up the size 2 bridesmaid dress that didn't fit her. I quickly jumped in with "she eats plenty, thank you very much". That is just as bad as looking at me in my size 16 and saying, perhaps you should lay off the doughnuts!

It's so easy to say "oh, poor little rich girl... or poor celebrity dealing with the paparazzi..." I'm guilty of it. But I would like to think that I am fairly open to the fact that there is more to things. Hell, I don't even know where I stand on many issues because I sit back and think about both sides... perhaps to a fault!

I wager that there is probably not one person (male or female) that feels completely comfortable in their own skin. People that have paid to fix things that they didn't like are just met with more options for future operations. I went to a water park this summer and was so surprised to see how many men and boys had their t-shirts on! I thought that men didn't care! My husband lost 60 pounds after graduating from culinary school. It's nice that I don't have one of those husbands with the hollow leg that can eat whatever they want but worry that you will let yourself go! He struggles with me while we both admit that we enjoy eating very, very much. We've both spent our share of time in front of the mirror, sucking in.

Does this mean that we can't joke with anyone in fear that they may have a complex? No, not necessarily... but keep in mind that (like I've said before) we all have our vices. We all have a story, a complaint, a miracle and a lesson to offer. Be open to others. On the flipside (see what I mean about not knowing where I stand) don't be too open. There is a such thing as letting too many people in or giving too much of yourself (yep... guilty). Understanding is one thing, putting yourself out there as a welcome mat is another!

Oh, and Heather... my avid reader, best friend and support you are officially exempt from the SB clause! Let's go to the mall and grab some doughnuts!

I realize that this post is all over the place. Perhaps it is a sign that I should post more often to keep an onslaught of rambling at bay!

Happy Valentine's Day!

I'm just a smiling fool today! Brian and I aren't doing anything special (we hung out on Sunday and had a pre-celebration) but we have Oakley tonight. I am going to dinner with the in-laws and he has band practice. . . however I am wondering if anyone will show once their wives find out!

I love looking around and seeing hearts and flowers and hearing people's stories. I know that I should be open to different ways of thinking - but all of those "I don't celebrate Valentine's Day because it's a holiday invented by the greeting card company" people irritate the living crap out of me. Just fold a piece of damn paper and make a heart and give it to someone. It will feel good, I promise! Hug those special people in your life extra tight and say things mushier than you normally would.

Even the single people should be able to take a deep breath and absorb the romance. It's everywhere! It's possible and out there!

Oh, and me and the scale are not on speaking terms. I weighed myself even though I said that I wouldn't and it says that I'm back to where I started. It doesn't get a valentine. I am thinking about maybe doing a monthly weigh-in. This one up and two down crap is enough to just drive a girl crazy! (crazier than I already am that is...)

Will you be mine?

I love me some Valentine's Day!

First, I love hearts. Anything with hearts screams my name. I have a heart tattoo and my kitchen is quickly becoming heart-themed. There is a gallery downtown with tons of hearts and the lady knows my husband by name because he goes there for holidays... and when he's in trouble.

Second, I'm a total and complete sap. I love romance. I love love! I love romantic movies, commercials, (the novels are a little too over the top even for me) but the classic romance novels. ::loud sigh::

Third, I love those damn sugar cookies with the pink frosting. I've eaten 5 in two days. I don't plan to stop. I know that I should... but I may just have to ask them to be my Valentine. I will make a mail box from a shoe box and put tin foil and doilies on it and then I will pass one to the package of deliciousness and hope like Charlie Brown that I get a response. If not, I will have the inch of frosting remnants on my ass to show for it. And then, back on the wagon!

So, on Tuesday I will give my fat rolls a hug and wish them a happy Valentine's Day and put off the weigh in for this week. I've promised my husband a fun evening once we put Oakley to bed... so maybe I'll work off a little bit of those calories! ; )

Wait... water weight?

I gained a pound... but I am hoping that this is because of my period. I will say this:

When I lay down I can feel my hip bones protruding again

You know how your hips go out and then your legs go in and then your fat thighs go out again? That curve is becoming straighter.

So, I will take it for what it is and try not to over-analyze.

::mumbling stupid scale and period, geez!::

Pity Smiles

Another blog that I read got me thinking. She said that she was concerned about what other people would think about the chunky girl at the gym. I've had that concern a jillion times. I remember being in PE and trying to give a sweet grin to the chunky girl with the bright red face and the bra that wasn't doing it's job. I was skinny then, but this in no way made me happy. I was a size 5-7 and was convinced that I had an unusually large ass. My grandmother taught me to suck in my stomach and my mom once told me that I was built like a gymnast. A few years later I signed up for a kickboxing class (one of my many all or nothing weight loss solutions) and I remember seeing myself in the mirror and realizing I was now that chunky girl with the red face. And my bra was absolutely not doing what I had paid it to do. I couldn't keep up, I had no coordination and some skinny bitch gave me a sweet smile. I thought that she pitied me.

As women we are catty. We look other girls up and down. What they are wearing, saying, dating and so on. It's in our DNA to be jealous and wary of eachother. Confidence is the equivalent of acne and self-criticism is like a new pair of Guess Jeans in the 80's. As many times as I've caught myself staring at another woman it's more that I'm measuring myself up to them. And I think we all do this more than just talk shit. Oh... I'd love to have those boobs, or that hair or that skin. I'd love to be able to pull off that outfit or those acrylic nails (I think I pick my nose too much for those). The one thing that unites us? The one thing that could bring us all together and hold hands and sing "I'd like to teach the world to live in perfect harmony" while swinging our arms? Our struggle to be beautiful and thin. It may be a trivial fight, one that has been created by the media and men that have too high of expectations... but at the end of the day, we all just want to feel good naked and be able to run up a flight of stairs without getting winded.

I honestly see women now and say "good for you" In my pilates class there is a woman there with a daughter my age and she is larger than me. Lord if she doesn't whoop my ass in some of those moves. And I tell her afterwards! That was awesome that you were able to hold that pose! AND some of the poses I can do and she can't do... and some of the SB's can't do (skinny bitches). And I've realized something. Because they're skinny does not mean that they are more healthy than me. I used to have a gym buddy that was a size two. She smoked like a chimney and could barely keep up with me. She was constantly sick. We all have our crutches, some just wear theirs on their belly rolls!

SO, to all you chunky girls and skinny bitches alike... when you step into the gym or go jalking down the street and I give you that 'sweet smile'. That isn't pity, that's GOOD FOR YOU! And... sometimes, what in the hell are you wearing?

3 is a magic number

I almost didn't weigh myself this morning.

When I lay down I can feel my hip bones... we have become reacquainted and it is nice. I had forgotten about them. I figured that since I am feeling physical results, why ruin it by stepping on the scale and seeing weight gain... or the same 'ol 175? It was 172~ ! This makes me happy. I'll totally take it.

I have my 5th Pilates class last night. I am getting better. I am still the chunkiest girl in the class but that's ok. I'm improving and probably can't get any worse if I just keep going to class. ::crosses fingers::

The three-mile hike wasn't too bad. I thought I may have to beg everyone to stop and take a rest on a rock on the side of the trail. I walked the whole way. AND the next day I could still get on and off of the toilet. That's the real test of a workout... do you cringe as you get on and off the toilet? Do your legs shake as you take on this task? Are you suddenly trying to convince yourself that you don't really need to go that bad?

Happy Friday

First off, yay for two very stubborn girls coming together and realizing that their friendship is too important to turn their backs on. I am so happy that Tracey is back in my life. I just feel like a huge weight has been lifted.

Tonight I plan to relish me some retail therapy. A male coworker asked me what that was. I explained that it is where you buy things that you don't really need... with money that you don't really have... all while the endorphines rush through you. The word cute will be used quite a bit, as well as "but it's on sale!" I may even decide to purchase a pair of jeans but can't promise anything.

We may go hiking with the in-laws and Buddy on Sunday. I think that this sounds like a whole lotta fun... even though my in-laws (who are 70 & 60 something) can totally run circles around me. sigh. Baby steps.

What the Hell?

Ok, I get it. Weigh yourself only once a week and at the same time of day because it can fluctuate... but I wonder if my fluctuation is worse than others. Or perhaps it just feels that way.

I woke up and peed (tried to do more to affect the scale...) and then stepped on. 174... sigh... one pound. Oh well, I'll take it. Then I took a shower and got out and thought, hhhhmmm... maybe the scale was wrong. So, I stepped back on and it was 177! How on earth did I gain 3 pounds? Does the water in my hair weight that much? I am so irritated!

I realize that I can't expect instant results. Especially since this isn't a diet... but rather trying to live more healthy. I suppose I need to keep telling myself that.

I have this quote posted to my computer screen at work:
"Forget past mistakes. Forget failures. Forget everything except what you're going to do now and do it." --William Durant

Baby Power Steps

175. Size 18... or 16 at Lane Bryant. Haven't even attempted to try on pants at most stores...I hardly ever try on clothes period. I'm not completely miserable. I don't own a full-length mirror and I'm pretty sure I think I look much skinnier than I actually do. When I get pictures back I'm convinced that I don't usually look that large. I've tried to stop asking the husband "is my butt as big as hers?" Sometimes he's a little too honest. When I get upset, stressed, happy... or any other adjective I eat. When I got some bad news last week the mere thought of a Whopper made me start to feel a little less anxious. I had to remind myself that I was nearly out of gas to keep from going and getting one... and then eating it in my car in the parking lot.

Why the first paragraph confession? I've decided to own it. Yep... lay it all out there. It's not the end of the world, so I wear my weakness on my love handles.

My goal? To lose 40 pounds.

Every time in the past that I have decided to do this I sit down with my diet cookbook and make a shopping list. I go and buy new workout clothes and a walkman. I get a few workout DVD's on netflix or off of Amazon. I promise myself that I will work out every other day come rain or shine. I don the new sneakers and eat well the first day. By day three I'm over it. I have people cheering me on and I decide that I don't want to do this because it's no longer my idea. I have an "all or nothing" attitude. This time? I have started being a little more conscience about what I am eating. I have signed up for a pilates class twice a week. As I get more comfortable with this I will add more. I have added one night at the gym so far. But I didn't kill myself. I have told myself that I really didn't need that mini kit kat right before bed and layed there with a smile on my face. Proud that I didn't eat it.

I want to get pregnant some time this year. However, I hear so many women say that they wish they could get back to the size they were before they were pregnant. So this makes me think, what if I had to say that I wanted to get back to pre-baby weight + some? I also want to have a healthy, active pregnancy. I'm lucky enough to be 26 and married and planning for a baby. After my crazy, young, party days and pregnancy scares I really want to do this right.

So, I need to take baby steps to change (doesn't that sound very What About Bob?) in order to get to where I can power walk and run... so that I can have a baby... and then lose the baby weight.

Martin Luther King Day

Me: Do you know why you didn’t have school today?
Oakley: Because of that one guy
Me: What guy?
Oakley: That one guy that like…says stuff
Me: Uh huh… is he sticking up for people?
Oakley: Yes
Me: Who?
Oakley: Um, God?

I knew that charter school was a bad idea!

The Month After Christmas

After doing multiple lunges to fit into my jeans this morning I thought that this email was appropriate to share:

The Month After Christmas

Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste
At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).

I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,

The cakes and the pies, the bread and the cheese
And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."

As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt

I said to myself, as I only can -
"You can't spend a winter disguised as a man!"

So, away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Till all the additional ounces have vanished.

I won't have a cookie, not even a lick.
I'll only chew on a long celery stick.

I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore .
But isn't that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

Tranny vs Fatty

I've been listening to the Adam Carrola show in the mornings lately and I just laugh my ass off. Work has been fairly quiet as friends have decided not to talk to me anymore for no apparent reason - so I fill the silence with inappropriate talk radio shows... and this makes me happy.

This morning was a little disturbing. They asked men who they would rather sleep with - a post-surgery transexual or a fat girl. They said about 82% chose the tranny. Why would a man open himself up to questions about his own sexuality just to keep from admitting that he may have slept with a woman with a weight problem? Now, I can't say that I am in the category of fatties that they are talking about. They said that they would need to be in the low 200's. "A dude or a deuce" they said.

I read a magazine article where a woman was very candid about her weight problems. She had a lot of people that would come up to her and offer what they thought was constructive criticism or advice. Diet tips, hair tips, etc. She pointed out that these were people that had affairs in the past, gossipped uncontrollably, drank excessivly, etc. But, since her weakness was out there for everyone to see it was like she was the one that was viewed as weak or pitiful. I have to agree. I would rather be chunky than a devious bitch, liar or thief. I think that many times we gang up on overweight people because we are scared of our own weaknesses. Everyone has a vice.

Any thoughts?

Post-Holiday Hello

I had a completely laid-back Christmas and it was fantastic after all of the wedding chaos. It was me, Brian and his grandmother. We had Christmas with Oakley on Saturday and then he went to his mom's for the holiday.

Brian did so well on my gifts. I have given him very specific lists for the past two years of what I want. I have never received anything from them. I can't complain though, he really does a good job and this way I'm always surprised.

Today is my two-month wedding anniversary and I just couldn't be happier. I have been told that perhaps I'm still in my honeymoon phase, but plan to enjoy it no matter what the hell it is!

It has snowed quite a bit here, but it's my favorite kind of snow - - the kind that melts before I have to drive in it. It is funny, however to watch all of our Southern California transplants try to drive in just light flurries. You'd think that they were in two feet of snow with zero visibility. I can remember flying down the freeways in SLC in a foot of snow.

I doubt that I'm alone but I am having some serious post-Christmas spenders remorse. I did go a little nuts as much as I said that I wouldn't. The excitement of being an Aunt and sending out packages full of presents just overwhelmed me. However, when Christmas finally came and it seemed just like any other day - but with a ton more phone calls to make! I am going to write myself a note and put it with my decorations next year. I don't want to be kicking myself again three days later and grimacing when yet another Christmas song comes on the radio (and I LOVE Christmas songs!) My dad and sister both had all of their decorations down and the tree on the curb by noon Christmas, at least I'm not that bad.

Things will probably be different next year when we have Oakley and the whole family isn't gone. I want to make sure that it's much more about warm fuzzies than mounds of gifts. One really doesn't equal the other.

Wedded Bliss

Yes, I do realize that it has been a little while... but as one very great procrastinator once said, better late than never!

The wedding was lovely and I was able to keep my sanity throughout the planning and the actual day. I was so happy to see so many loved ones travel from so far to be a part of it! It was really a wonderful feeling.

I was worried about post-bridal depression and I do have to admit to bouts of it. On our way to San Diego I saw a couple of bridal shops and thought, oh...I should pop in and look around... and then realized that I had no reason to. The day that I had dreamt about forever and ever is over... and never to be again. It's a hard realization to swallow. When I came home and saw my pretty veil hanging there I got really sad, I have no reason to ever dress up that much again! I told Brian, now I'm not a bride... I'm just a stupid wife. Bless his heart that he doesn't take offense to such things. Perhaps he has finally come to terms with my lack of sanity, or kooth (sp?).

So, in the face of depression I quickly threw away my stack of Brides magazine and reorganized our guest room which had become wedding central. I then threw the manic bride syndrome into holiday planning. Before Thanksgiving I had all of my shopping done, decorations up and nearly all presents wrapped and under the tree. The only reasons that all of them aren't is because I am waiting for the rest of the online orders to come in. I also ordered, addressed and stamped all of my Christmas cards and have had to convince myself to at least wait until December to send them out.

'Tis the season!

Many Moons

I realize it's been like seven Sundays since I've posted - so I will do some catching up for you.

Brian and I finally decided on a location for the honeymoon and we will be driving to Napa. I am very excited. We found a gorgeous resort there and booked the "Napa Experience" package. I am hoping that this means mucho vino and a tipsy Nisha. I don't drink hardly at all anymore, but what better excuse to get tore up than a weekend in Napa? I've seen Sideways, I know. (actually that was quite a disturbing movie...)

The clubhouse for our housing division is finally finished, and thank GOD we decided not to have the wedding there. Don't get me wrong, it's very nice ... but the wedding would have never fit there, on top of the fact that we would have had to rent everything for it. However, I am enjoying the pool and gym. Yes, I have donned a swimsuit this year. I figure, I don't want to be the mom that is at the side of the pool fully dressed because she's afraid that someone will see her chunky thighs... I want to enjoy myself. And, ahem...I'm a hottie compared to some of the women! lol.

The wedding planning is coming along very smoothly. I rented the first season of Bridezillas and realized how lucky I am - and how lucky everyone around me is! haha. Most of the stuff is already taken care of and I really don't want to sweat the small details. When else will there be a huge party with nearly everyone I know for me and my husband? I'd better enjoy the hell out of it, come what may.

I'm now afraid that I may become depressed once the wedding and honeymoon is over. Brian keeps saying that he can't wait for it to be over so that we can get back to regular life, but I LOVE being in planning mode! I won't know what to do with myself afterwards. What will I talk about? What will I do with my pile of subscription to Bride's magazine? Brian really needs to prepare himself to come home to me hanging out in my wedding dress and veil. It's bound to happen. But seriously, I LOVE the Christmas season. I'm so happy while I'm shopping & decorating and wrapping. But, once all of the presents are open, I want to cry. It's OVER! Lord knows what will happen once the last thank you card is mailed and it's all done. I will probably need a copy of the Notebook, elastic waisted pants, a bag of Dove dark chocolate, a box of Kleenex and leftover Napa wine...STAT!

Oakley and I went to see 'Over the Hedge' a couple of weekends ago. Cute movie..blah, blah, blah. The point of my story is that I saw a lady in the concession stand line with hair that I wanted so BAD! It was huge! She had the greatest spiral perm and bangs, I was literally jealous. I wish I could pull off that look still, I wish I were clueless and didn't care that I was stuck in the early nineties. I want to rat my hair so bad, this boufant (sp?) isn't cutting it anymore. Give me some banana clips and barrettes! I want my hair to be permed with wings, I want to use White Rain and scrunch!

My little brother signed up for the Navy. At first, I was so upset...I was ready to write letters to personally stop the war. I was in immediate psycho sister mode. There HAS to be a way to undo the oath he just took, he doesn't know what he's saying! He was just kidding! But, then I stepped back and stepped out of my hippie hemp sandals and looked at things from his point of view. He wants to see the world, get out of Elko, go to school...and I want that for him too. The Navy is probably one of the safest branches that he could have signed up for. But, if he gets deployed...I may need to chaperone...just to make sure he's ok and well cared for.

There are officially 100 days til the wedding (yes, I've quickly slipped back into Bride mode). It is coming up so quick!

Mr Postman

So, my invitations are in the mail. It was the most surreal feeling mailing them out, not good or bad...just strange. I stared at the stack for a couple of days in disbelief. The wedding went from just an idea to something very real and tangible. I have most of my contracts signed and we have decided to hold it at the resort. I have a wedding website and my registry done. I've picked up my dress and two of my bridesmaids already have theirs.

Now that things have come together in the wedding planning category we have yet to figure out where we want to Honeymoon. You'd think it'd be easy to figure something like that out, however we have quite a few hurdles. Neither of us are very tropical people, I burn just thinking about the sun and I hate water and being wet. Not all of the time, but most...even in the bathtub I usually have all of my limbs sticking out. Brian is the same way. We are getting married in October and don't want to spend our honeymoon anywhere that resembles a tundra...this leaves out most of the country in late October. Also, Brian doesn't want to honeymoon in the Southwest and I don't want to spend the entire time getting to the actual Honeymoon. Does your head hurt yet? I feel your pain.

Wedding Planning & Spring Training

So, I have my dress, the photographer, DJ and minister is picked out. But where in the hell is my wedding going to take place? This is the question of the year and it is driving me nuts. Originally we had decided to keep everything cheap and do most everything ourselves. However, now I realize that this means renting chairs, tables and setting everything up on my wedding day and breaking it all down on my wedding night. In which case our attention has been directed towards the Prescott Resort. Even though it would break our entire budget they could set up our whole ceremony and reception for us. Centerpieces and everything. We would only have to find out "chicken or fish" from the guests and out of towners could stay at the resort. Even though the price tag is high, it makes a ton of sense. We'll see though, Brian and I have an appointment with them on Wednesday.

The action-filled season of T-ball has started again this year. This means sitting on metal bleachers and cheering for random children whose helmets nearly cover their eyes. This means that most kids will be sitting on their bases or chasing a butterfly in left field. Many will run in to eachother chasing the same balls and none of the throws will make it remotely far enough to land in to a mitt. This means keeping track of hats, mitts, shoes, shirts, etc between two houses as well as remembering that Monday is swimming lesson day. This means overpriced picture packages which include buttons (who wears these) and team pictures of squinty eyed little boys. But it's SPRING! And what better place to be than on a metal bleacher screaming "you can do it, keep your eye on the ball!"