Before + Sneak Peek!

Before:

(All those boxes on the counter? Our dinner that night. SUSHI! YUM!)

Sneak Peek:

The After is being completed as I type. We painted that little pantry door, and Paul is at the moment drilling back in. Yay! A project that got completed in the time we alloted! This is a first for our house! I'll get some good pictures of it tomorrow when we get some good light.

In other news, I thought I would share this. Alex has taken a liking to dressing up (already), and whatever clothes she find around the house usually get draped on and layered in pretty awesome combinations. Alot of the time I am running after her as she is attempting to wear my bra as a necklace or my underwear as a hat, but this time she kind of got it right. She found a sweater of mine and threw it on, and found a hat of Paul's to finish the look off. She look so darned good that she couldn't help but stop and check herself out in the oven every time she passed it. Which was once every 45 seconds or so. This child is mine, there is no doubt. (If having her pass through my birth canal left any room for doubt in the first place...)

Awkward In-between stage...

Are you getting overwhelmed with my influx of posts lately? I am not going to apologize. I will remember this and point it out to you when I don't post for 6 months after this baby is born. 'See? Remember when I used to post alot? It was to hold you over.'

I find myself in a very awkward stage right now. It's that stage of being very pregnant and on the verge of popping, overwhelmed with the instinct to make my house nice and neat for this new child that's about to join us. But also, being a mother of a fifteen-month old. That right there should show you the tug and pull that's going on. I am sitting in my dining room right now, and behind me is my kitchen. It's spotless. For the past few weeks, I haven't been able to tolerate things on the counter, dishes in the sink. So I've been a little neurotic about keeping it tidy. But on my right, my living room is staring at me laughing, because in only a half hour, THIS is what my daughter does to it:

Didn't I mention in one of the lasts posts about how rare it is for her to sit still and play with just one toy? I wasn't exaggerating. So now, in the amount of time it took me to clean the kitchen, Crazy Toddler ripped apart my living room, and upon seeing it, I got all twitchy and spazzy, and was thrown down on to my knees involuntarily by this blasted nesting instinct until I managed to get control of it (read: throw all of her toys into that big boat thing that you see at the bottom left there...). Honestly. It's sick. Paul will vacuum for me, and I want (and maybe HAVE on one or two occasions) to throw myself down and make out with the vacuum lines on the carpet. Paul can barely get me in the mood to do anything these days (tmi? sorry.), but those vacuum lines? WATCH. OUT. I'm getting all fired up just thinking about them.

Opinions wanted: Out-of-the-ordinary Nice? Or Out-of-the-ordinary Creepy?

I had a run-in with a fellow today, and I am stumped as to how to feel about it. So I am asking you, internet.

I had to run up to the grocery store right before we put Alex to bed because both Paul and I had forgotten that we were out of milk. Paul was on the phone and happened to be more exhausted than I was at this point (which NEVER happens anymore), so I grabbed my keys and ran up there. On my way out, I passed a younger gentleman who was coming into the store with a few other people (not sure if they were in the same group or not). Right when I passed him, I heard him say, 'CONGRATS!' I turned, and saw that he was still walking, but glancing back at me. Now, I can only assume that he meant 'Congrats on that enormous belly of yours!' But it just seemed so random. And it was made a wee bit more uncomfortable because there was another young man walking extremely close behind me (because, well, I walk slowly, no, excuse me, I waddle slowly these days. And people seem to think that by walking really closely behind me when there is not enough room to pass will make me go faster. I just want to turn and hit them and remind them that I would walk faster if I COULD.) Anyway- I am pretty sure that creepy/nice man thought that close-walker dude was my baby-daddy.

So. Out of the ordinary nice? Was he just telling me congrats in a situation when our culture usually has us walking by each other with our heads down? Or out of the ordinary creepy? Was he just being an ass while in front of a few people who could have been his buddies that know him as the guy that will say anything to anybody?

Doctor's Update: Week 38

Dilated 2 cm (!!!)
Everything else the same.

Progress is progress, right?! I'll take it. It took me hours and hours of actual labor to hit 2 cm with Alex.

In other news, Paul and I are silly. Silly silly silly. And maybe you could substitute 'silly' for 'STUPID STUPID FOOLS'. Either one is acceptable.

We've decided that NOW would be the perfect time to finally get some of these silly little house projects done that we've been putting off, oh I don't know, since we've moved in. Maybe he is trying to make me go into overdrive so my head finally spins and pops off and he won't have to listen to me whine anymore. Or perhaps it's sympathy nesting. (Because he certainly isn't gaining sympathy weight. The jerk has been LOSING weight and looking great. I hate him. SO insensitive.) Either way, hubby went out at butt-crack early yesterday morning and came home with buckets of paint and various items needed to apply that paint. I am not as concerned as I probably should be. I understand that my only role in this will be to take Alex somewhere for a day to escape the fumes. But still... as much as I am going to enjoy having my kitchen painted (FINALLY!!!), I can't help but wonder what it's going to look like when I call Paul after he's done half of a wall and tell him that my water broke and I need him to DROP EVERYTHING and come pick my wet butt up. I have a feeling that that half a wall will be all that's painted for quite some time. But... it's all hypothetical, right? Sure.

We also have this big list written on our dry-erase board. List of things to do to the house to put it up for SALE. AFTER THE BABY IS BORN. BECAUSE WE WANT TO MOVE. AND WE LIKE PUTTING OURSELVES THROUGH AS MUCH UNNECESSARY PAIN AS POSSIBLE. Things like, hang curtains, weed, clean the pool (which... HUGE undertaking, that one. Our pool has a colony of tadpoles living in the water that's gathered on the cover. And thanks to our brainy dog who decided to take a dip one day and jumped right on top of the cover, causing Paul to have a mild heart attack while screaming at her to get out, and then tearing several holes with her nails in her attempt to escape the furry of said husband... most of those tadpoles are now living in the actual pool. High five, Violet.). I don't know. I think we'd get the same effect if we stood in front of our garage and let people fling rocks at us. But... whatever.

(Side note: I am watching my daughter sit and play with a toy. Like, SIT STILL. And play with just one toy. She's been there for about 3 minutes, which is a record. I don't want to take a picture, because I feel like the flash might throw her off and set her running again. I am not even looking directly at her for fear of distracting her. Oh... wait. It's done. She's up and running now. Up and down the hallway. I'm still impressed with how long that lasted.)

So, that's where we are at now. Lord help us.

My Apologies.

Sorry for that last post. It was a weak moment during which I had access to the internet. (Stupid accessible wireless technology.) Thanks for not coming back at me with totally justifiable comments that told me to suck it up. I appreciate it.

To make up for it, I have alot of random photos for you! Yay! (I am loading these while Alex is sitting on the kitchen floor reading a Reader's Digest. Gotta love pint-sized magazines!)

This one is just to prove that I do put pants on her occasionally. Well, I should say 'outfit'. But really, most of the time we are in the house, she is in a diaper and a t-shirt. And if that t-shirt happens to have buttons, it's never buttoned. Yay for lazy parenthood!

And this is an example of what happens when you use potato salad as hair product. Just in case you were ever tempted into trying it out.

This is what usually happens at night. It takes as many eyes as possible to watch Violet go retrieve her ball. Alex and daddy are a tag-team. They even share a beer or two. Now that's love.

CORN ON THE COB!!! BEST FOOD EVER!!!! (smothered in butter and parmesian cheese - if you haven't tried it, do it. Then understand that I am pregnant and I get to like whatever I want to like. Don't judge.)

And finally, this one needs some explanation. And perhaps this part could count as an actual 'update', so get ready. Paul and I are in a funny place right now. Our future is so jumbled and confused and changing on a daily and sometimes hourly basis, both of our heads are spinning. We don't know where we are going to be living, where Paul is going to be working. We could very well be here in this house doing the same job in ten years (please, Lord, NO!). But we don't know. We aren't very happy in this house, in this neighborhood. We've thought about moving out of state, and those choices include Colorado, maaaaaaaybe Michigan, Hawaii, overseas again... who knows. All of those are dependant on Paul getting certain jobs that he can apply for. Anyway, long story short, we are starting to look in to options that would keep up in St. Louis, but get us away from the area in which we currently reside. One of those options would be a community called New Town. It's almost a Stepford Wives kind of town, with it's own ammenities, shops, lakes, pretty much anything you can think of. And all of the houses/apartments/lofts look alike (for the most part). We had looked into it when we first arrived, and it did not take us long to cross it off the list. Buuuuutttttt.... Now, having seen just how hard it is to be sure you are getting into a nice neighborhood around here, the idea doesn't seem to bad. So we went there to check on some displays and kind of get the feel. We were both impressed with the houses, and were kind of impressed with everything that you have access to while living there. As we were leaving, I happened to ask if there was some type of list that had the bylaws on it, and the woman nodded and went to the back to retrieve this:

FOUR PACKETS OF RULES. I don't think Calvin had this many rules. I went through them last night and most of them are common sense, but some are pretty interesting. They definitely take it upon themselves to make sure that at least the fronts of the houses all look similar. No signs, a limit to how many garden accessories you can have, curtains must be white. All sorts of things. But there was one that mentioned that pets must be kept quiet so as not to disturb anyone that had Paul and I salavating at the mouth and ready to put a down payment on it. Although I don't know what I would do without a chorus of dogs to put me to sleep at night. Anywho, it might have stayed on the possibility list if it hadn't occurred to me last night that none of the houses we saw had backyards, which probably means that none of the houses COME with backyards, which would definitely mean that I would be dragging my sorry butt out with two kids every time Violet had to take a pee. Awesome.

Uh-well. We'll keep looking. Keep changing our minds every day. It will come to something eventually.

Hope this made up for the last post :)

Needed: A 5lb block of cheese to go with this WHIIIIIIIIIIIIINE

This post is a lousy attempt to give Paul a break from hearing me whine. I say 'lousy attempt' because he's already heard most of this and will no doubt hear it again 10 more times before this day is through. Uh-well. It's his part of the pregnancy I suppose. I'll do the heavy lifting, he does the heavy hearing. Or something.

I just feel very pregnant today. From the moment I woke up, I could feel little guy all up in my ribs. He is just so much higher than Alex ever was. And I am not sure if I've just forgotten how uncomfortable the end of my first pregnancy was... but I feel like this was has been so much harder on my body. I can't sit because then I can't breathe. I can't stand because then I get shin-splints and start panting after a few minutes. I can't lay down because then he sits on my spine and I feel like I displaced half of my spine after a while. And all of this makes it really fun chasing after Alex all day.

And this morning I've had cramps... I am to the point now where contractions feel good because at least it's doing something. I can't sleep. I hate going to bed now because I know I'm in for a whole night of getting up every half hour to roll over (which is SO HARD TO DO) and possibly go to the bathroom.

I know that I shouldn't complain as much as I do, because I am very lucky that I've had two full-term pregnancies with no big problems. I've been miserable, but the babies have thrived, and for that I am SO LUCKY. But I am apparently not so good at seeing the bright side. And for that I apologize.

Thanks for listening, Internet. I am going to go eat some ice cream now. (which... oh my word... that's been my vice this time around. I am usually not an ice cream person - I usually prefer a bag of chips any day over any type of sweets... but honestly... I wish I kept all of the empty containers that I've tossed in the past few months... I think it would quite impressive.)

Less than 20 days.

Flinch-worthy

I promise that this sounds worse than it actually was.

Right after I set the camera down, she put her hand on her head, rubbed it a little, gave me a really confused look, then ran and pushed the button again. She's got a thick skull.

Oh, the JOY!

Alex's first time in a sprinkler. I have never ever seen her more delighted in the world. I am sure she was wetting herself due to the excitement.... but we'll never know... that's the beauty of swimmy diapers! (Pictures are courtesy of a good friend who took pity on my cameraless self and recorded a bit of Alex's life for me.)

Preview of what's to come.

No, not various pictures of my child eating popsicles, but pictures in general! My camera arrived this afternoon, and I've had a busy day figuring it all out. Most of the pictures I got today were no good, mostly due to my unwillingness to use the flash and the natural light fading too quickly, but I am getting a hang of this thing, and soon, we shall have pictures! pictures! pictures!

Ah, and Paul played with it for a while, and he got some good proof of why I feel so FAT. Mainly, that proof being, because I am so FAT. 3 weeks to go. 3 weeks to go. 3 weeks to go.

Doctor's Update: Week 37

Still at 1 cm, still softening up.
But baby dropped quite a bit (hence the pressure I was feeling on Saturday).
Doctor is guessing he will be in the high range of 6 pounds, which I can handle. Alex was 6 lbs, 5 oz, and I was nervous that this little dude was going to be well above that. My doctor was spot on with Alex, so I am hoping he's right with this one too.

3 more weeks to go!

BOWLING BALLS!!!

Tonight, my husband and I went on a date. Technically for his birthday, though that was this past Thursday. We were both looking forward to some 'adult time', which doesn't happen very often.

It was a fun night... nice to eat without having to worry about cutting up someone else's food, or having to shovel it in her mouth quickly enough to avoid a food-throwing tantrum. And, may I just say, that I smiled to myself just a little (and maybe gloated along with my husband... juuuuust a little) as we watched a mother struggle with her infant who refused to sit in his highchair, and as we listened to some unseen child SCREAMING HIS HEAD OFF for various reasons. Pre-child, all I would be thinking is, "This is slightly irritating. Ok, really irritating. Would like that child to be still and shutup!" Post-child, all I was thinking (nay, screaming in my head) was, "NOT MY CHILD! NOT MY CHILD! ALLELUIA! NOT MY CHILD!" And I enjoyed every second of it. Every scream, every whine. Not one ounce of irritation. Just gloating. Does this make me a bad person?

One other thing that I was thinking throughout our entire dinner? And ice cream after? And walk around World Market after that? "Am I in labor? Really? Tonight? Of all nights? We finally get rid of our child, and out pops this one? DO I NOT GET A BREAK?!" To take the suspense out of this story, it ended up being a false alarm, but the entire time we were out, I was getting this SEVERE pressure down south. And it wasn't like the contractions I have been getting. It was entirely waist-down, and it was such that I really would not have been surprised if a bowling ball dropped right out of my lady-parts. Because that is what it felt like was happening. It wasn't entirely painful (although you would think a bowling ball stuck in your groin would be, correct?), just really uncomfortable. It would come and go, and every once in a while a contraction would hit that I would recognize. The good old tightening of the abs. But, for a while there, all I could think was, "I really should have packed my bags when my mother told me to." So guess what we are doing after I hit 'Publish Post'? Packing bags. Getting the bed set up. And tomorrow? Going to Babies-R-Us to get what we need to be thrown back in to crying infant world.

See? All I needed was a swift bowling ball in the groin to get me moving. I'M GOING! I'M GOING!


Ps. Just ordered my camera. Won't ship till Tuesday. Will take about a week to get here. Hopefully little man waits! (Listen to me! Telling him to take his time! That's a first!)

High Five!

I put the baby's clothes in the washer! Yay!

Doctor's Update: Week 36

I will be pregnant forever.

Still at 1 cm.
But cervix is 60% effaced.

He did tell me to pack my bags, though. Which I guess I should do. Because not only do I have to pack for myself and for the one on the way, but also one for Alex. (Which... that's the only part I am worried about... getting Alex to her babysitters on the way to the hospital... if I go into labor like I did with Alex, it won't be a problem, because it took a long time for me to get to the point where Paul's life was in danger... but if it progresses quickly... it could be an interesting ride... the hospital is a good 45 minutes away from us to begin with... I've mentioned to Paul that we should keep the camcorder handy. He said he'd get back to me. I don't think he wants evidence of him throwing his pregnant and laboring wife out of the car on the highway.)

At least I've made a list. Not of things to pack, but of things that need to be done pre-baby. Laundry, setting up the bed, getting things like.. I don't know.. diapers. If I drop the ball, I could always just tape some of Alex's on him. Whatever.

To be honest, I am feeling so unmotivated at the time. In my head, I know that I have 4 or less weeks. And still, can't get it done.

I'll keep you updated. I go every week now, so look for a doc update next Wednesday. And perhaps if I am trying to avoid doing something that would actually be useful, another update will come sooner than that.

For Future Referance...

Do NOT play the I'm-gonna-eat-your-foot! game prior to changing a poop-filled diaper. Makes it much harder.

In unborn fetus news, I have my next doctors appointment on Wednesday. Then I go every week. Only four weeks away! I am hoping that I have made some progress down south, but, not really counting on it. I was always so sure that I was going to be fully dilated and give birth right there at my check-up with Alex for the last 6 weeks of that pregnancy that I am hesitant to believe that I will go even one minute early with this one. I refuse to believe that I will be late though. But this is only to keep me sane. If I knew that I would be carrying this child even one week over 40, I would break down and cry myself to a restless sleep right here and now.

Speaking of restless sleep..... I have been coming down with some sort of virus for about a week now (SWINE FLU SWINE FLU SWINE FLU!!!). I'm sure it's nothing serious. But it's annoying and makes me that much more exhausted during the days and that much more restless during the nights. My upper torso feels like.... I don't know... there are lots of ways people describe it... hit by a truck, lost a fight with a prize-fighter, trampled by a herd of giraffe (herd? pack? I think things with hooves generally roam around in herds, correct?). Any of those would be appropriate. What crappy timing. Aside from vomiting for 3 months, I have avoided getting any kind of disease this entire pregnancy. Why now? When I am so close. Best I can do is get rest (HA!) and hopefully it will go away. If it gets too bad, I know my doctor will prescribe me something... but.... I hate taking medicine. Just ask my husband who has to take on the parent role and make sure I don't hide my pills in a pile of mashed potatoes or something equally immature. I would like to say that he knew what he was getting when he married me, but to be honest, it's quite easy to fake a seemingly adult persona when you are in a long-distance relationship quite literally up until the day you are married.

I will update again after my appointment on Wednesday, but I assure you (and myself) that it will be to merely tell you that I am still at 1 cm and that I will be giving birth at exactly midnight at my pre-determined delivery date- June 12. No sooner, and dear Lord, no later.

(Speaking of the Lord... I am reading Sex God by Rob Bell, and I highly suggest that it be put on reading lists everywhere, especially for those that are in relationships of any type... so that would be all of you. [Not just intimate relationships... any type... even if you hate everybody, that's a relationship, so go get the book.] It seemed to be a slow-start, but I am nearing the end and I can't get enough. He's got some really good things to say. Go. Read.)

Gal's Shopping Day

1) Go to Kohl's. Mother is in an excellent mood due to extraordinarily long nap on account of soothing thunderstorms. This will be a good day.

2) Carry child into store, notice that there aren't any shopping carts with child seat attached at this entrance. Not a problem, walk over to the other side of the store.

3) What luck! There's one more left (among dozens and dozens of regular carts).

4) Cart number one is squeaky. That's ok. I can deal with a little squeak. But this is a lot of squeak. Nope, can't handle that for the whole trip. I don't get out much. I want to do this trip squeakless.

5) Remember seeing lady at checkout at first entrance with a child-friendly cart. I'll go wait.

6) While I wait, I see no less than THREE couples WITHOUT kids using kiddie carts. I make sure to give them all dirty pregnant-lady-carrying-child-who-is-imitating-a-clock-which-involves-her-swinging-violently-back-and-forth-in-mother's-arms looks. Dirty, dirty looks. Fight the urge to take their hangers and shove them through their ears. Realize that this pregnancy has finally taken hold of my brain, and therefore all of my rational (or lack-there-of) thought.

7) Lady finishes checkout. I take over cart. Realize that cart number two has a busted buckle. This will not do. Clock-imitating is dangerous if not belted in. Would be yelling BABY OVERBOARD within ten feet. Cart number 2= fail.

8) Consider stalking childless couples.

9) See a userless child cart in middle of the misses section. High-five child and plop her in. Begin to push cart and realize that front wheels spin wildly out of control, causing cart to appear to be going over speed bumps every 3 feet. Wonder if I can get away with this one. Look at child's head bouncing off of rail and decide to ditch this one too. Cart number 3= fail.

10) Give up and see if I can go find squeaky cart again. Arms getting tired. Back getting tired. CONTRACCCTTTIIIOOONNNN..... OW OW OW. Anyway, where is that cart?

11) See two carts at entrance #2. Pick one that haven't tried yet. Squeaky. But not as squeaky as the other one.

12) Do shopping as quickly as possible. You lost business today, Kohls! I would have bought much more if the squeak hadn't driven me out of the store!

13) Stop at grocery store on the way home for milk.

14) Give child keys to play with while in store.

15) Purchase milk, salad, dressing, potato salad, coffee things, pop, and treats for dog.

16) Return to car to find that trunk and both sliding doors are wiiiiiide open. Look at child. Child returns look. Take keys with door-opening buttons away from child. Child begins to scream.



Good day.

Reading the Signs.

Alot of motherhood (at least in non-verbal infant stage) is based on informed guesswork. Guess why she is crying, guess why she won't sleep, guess why she thinks dog food is more fun to eat than anything I make her. Guessing guessing guessing. I will be the first to admit that sometimes I guess wrong and then feel awful for all of the 30 seconds it takes Alex to forget that it took mommy a full hour to figure out that that big crap-filled diaper was the reason she wouldn't go to sleep, not that she was just being stubborn.

Well, sometimes it's easy. Like now for instance. I just got her up from her nap, but was unsure if she had actually slept or not. She is the queen at keeping herself awake for HOURS when it's nap time, sometimes staying awake in her crib a full 2 hours before she actually sleeps. And yep, I leave her in there the whole time, only going in on occasion to throw her pacifiers back in the crib. Because I know that if I get her up without her actually having slept, I will pay for it for the rest of the day.

Anyway, I just got her up, after alot of hesitation, because, again, I was not sure if she had actually slept. Well, I have my answer now. This one was easy. I am pretty sure that her head laying down in a pile full of noodles on her highchair means that no, she definitely did not sleep. Oh, and yep, that nails-on-blackboard scream that she just gave me where her veins in her forehead just about burst.... yep, did not sleep.

Now I get to guess what I do about this situation. Yay! (and this is where I start to get really sad/scared because I am about to start this stage allllllll oooovvvveeerrrr agggaaaaiiiinnnn).