Waiting...

After a full weekend of activity, we are still waiting for this baby. It's not even that late, but I am definitely ready to get this part over with. So ready in fact, that on Saturday we went to try THE SALAD. Sure, it's an urban legend, but what did we have to lose? Local lore says that ladies from a birth class were eager for their babies to come and went out, ate the salad, and voila... baby time!

So we drove 30 minutes away to Studio City and found Caioti Pizza Cafe, home of THE Salad. It was a nice little outing. And the salad was tasty! Unfortunately, it did nothing but give me gas.

Now we wait some more. C'mon, baby!

EDD: Come and gone!

Today was the estimated due date. Unless baby comes tv-style in the next few hours, it will officially be late.
And the waiting continues. The only problem with this is discomfort. Ok, and anxiety and the chance for self-doubt to start creeping in... but generally, it's the discomfort. I'm definitely getting bigger-- into the "not so manageable" size, which means I have started to run into things. I've actually scratched myself for the past two days. Yesterday a friend asked if I was bleeding and I told her I wasn't sure, simply because I couldn't SEE my stomach to check out the damage. I had bent over some plastic packages that were in a bag in my car and knew I had grazed them, but didn't know that I had indeed scratched myself. You'd think I would have learned from that... but today I opened a door and did it again. I'm just too wide!

The best nation is a donation

There are very few helpful or constructive things I've been able to do over the past 8 months. Maybe more than a few, but I wouldn't be able to name many. I recently cut off a lot of my hair to donate to people who need it and in the coming week (I hope!) I'll be donating our baby's cord blood to a cord blood bank.

There are plenty of blood banks, but many are for-profit banks that parents have to pay for. This means once a baby is born, a doctor or midwife collects samples of blood (they really want the stem cells) from the umbilical cord and the samples are shipped off and stored for safekeeping and possible future use rather than discarded.

Cord blood banking is generally controversial because the major banks are privately run for-profit ventures. They're very expensive, and some say that these companies prey on the fears of new [and affluent] parents. The processing fee alone for cord blood banking on one privately run website is $1920. Storage will run a family another $125 annually after the first year. There is no way of knowing if a baby (or sibling) will need the stem cells or even if a disease that they may have such as leukemia, a blood disorder or other condition would respond to cord blood stem cell therapy.

I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but I would like to think Trouble will be nothing but robust. And if Trouble's robust, then why keep the stem cells? Could other people use them instead? Rather than privately banking our baby's cord blood, I called the Carolinas Cord Blood Bank at Duke University a few months ago.
I had read an article about the pilot blood bank program at Duke and felt it was a good option for us. If Trouble DOES need his or her stem cells and they are available, great. If someone else needs Trouble's stem cells, they could use them instead. While there are some public cord blood banks, there's no national cord blood registry. If the Carolinas program is a success, it's possible that there will be a national registry open to anyone, similar to an organ or blood donation list/bank.

After answering some screening questions and asking my doctor if she would be willing to participate (she needed to complete an on-line training), I received a kit in the mail. It's really a win-win and I'm glad that this option exists. There's an alternative to the pricey cord banking-for-something-we-may-never-need and a way for us to bank the cells in case we do need them-- or that perhaps our baby's cord blood will help save someone else's life some day.

40th Week: What's Worse?

This is it. I am officially into the 40th week and a bit anxious to get this part over with so I can have some semblance of my life and body back. This weekend Clint told me he would like his wife back. Yes, I would certainly like that as well. The past 35 weeks have not been much of a cakewalk for either of us.

Today has been particularly gnarly and I am back to nibbling Saltine crackers and propping myself up with pillows to try to nap. Could this be the beginning of the end? Maybe. Or maybe it is just my body's way of saying it isn't over so I just need to deal a little longer.

At this point I'm really not sure what is worse, still being sick ... or still being pregnant.

Diaper Origami!

It's official: We have diapers!
We have 160, to be exact. One of the oldest diaper services in the nation is located in Pasadena and they service our area on Mondays. So, today I got a diaper pail, big bag o' diapers, and a diaper newsletter of sorts called the "Wet Set Gazette" with pictures of happy babies in their cloth diapers.

I know that there will be times I'll need to use disposable diapers. I also know that I may not have the patience for cloth, but if I start out with cloth and don't know what I'm missing with the plastic alternative, maybe it'll be a-ok. How bad can it be when Dy-Dee Diaper Service will wash them for me?

Along with the Wet Set Gazette the diaper folks tossed in a Diapering Digest quick guide, which includes what I would describe as diaper origami. Instead of the crane (stork? haha) or lotus, they offer folds such as the Angel Wing and another called Navel Defense (love that one). I don't know how much I'll be practicing on my little seal puppet. I think in a week or so I'll get plenty of real life practice.

Last to Arrive...

It's official: Trouble is the last arrival of the 9 babies from our baby prep class. We spent 2 hours a week for 8 weeks with the other couples learning things Clint claimed (afterward) he could have learned from an outline in a 2 hour class. I think I probably got more out of it (which is good, since I'll be doing most of the work, right?). At least we got to meet some other first-time parents to start building a network.

I saw today on Facebook that the other couple due in mid-September had their baby early last week. This means Trouble is last! Clint made a point of bending down to the belly and telling little T not to worry that s/he is the last one. Somebody always has to be last, right? For some reason I'm thinking of the Chilean miners stuck thousands of feet below the earth... it'll take months to dig a hole to rescue them. Once they start extraction, somebody has to be the last one out, which means for a while they'll be the only person stuck down at the bottom of the mine where they've spent the past 4? months in the dark.

I was a full 2 weeks late to the party we call LIFE so I shouldn't be surprised that Trouble hasn't shown up early. Today, 9/11, was the original Trouble due date. Trouble is now officially "due" on the 15th, which is Wednesday. I just checked my calendar and sometime ages ago I just wrote "baby due" on the 15th. ha!

Some friends predicted that Trouble would arrive yesterday, others thought today. The latest prediction on the timeline we have is hovering around the 23rd/24th, meaning our little Virgo would actually be a Libra, which would be a-ok with me, since I already live with a Virgo and the house tends to be too organized and tidy for me. It'd be ok to have someone around whose goal in life is to "witness the importance of cooperation and harmony" nice! Fair and balanced, our own little Fox News analyst? Maybe not. Of course, another Virgo would be fine too. At least then I'd have two people to clean up after me.

Time for a Nook?

I went into Barnes and Noble today to look for a book that our doula recommended. When I went into the store, there was a large display and a staffer behind a counter who asked, "Are you familiar with our Nook?" I told him that yes indeed, I am familiar with the Nook. I didn't tell him I don't own one... but I am familiar with the concept of an e-reader. He proceeded to tell me how I might like to take a look at one since it looked like I'd be having some free time coming up.

I know that all of my senses are a little out of whack lately but really? Free time? I told him I wouldn't exactly call it "free time" and no, I didn't have any time to look at the Nook. When it comes to time, I really have no idea what to expect once Trouble actually debuts. Will I be walking around like a zombie all day? Will 4pm roll around and I'll still be wearing the same clothes I slept in the night before? Will my dog hate me because I don't go out to play with her as much? Will I have the same kind of memories of the newborn days as I do of the worst of the (still lingering, even today) morning sickness-- which is sorta a big blur of nasty food combinations, time spent in the bathroom, bio bags and near isolation? It certainly helped that I had written some of these things down, even the days on a calendar where I just wrote something like, "still sick, still miserable" and that was all. Of course, I don't expect Trouble to see these little gems of literary material but at least I will have them in a Trouble box somewhere. Provided I have some free time to tuck these things away, if I am not too busy reading an e-book with all of my free time as a new parent.

Optimism, or just being crazy?

This might seem a little silly, but I have no reservations or concerns about baby's arrival. I believe that I will have a normal, even somewhat comfortable birth and that while it might be difficult, my body knows what to do and my mind sorta knows as well.
Yes, there are all kinds of things that can happen during birth, but I am choosing not to think about the things that could make me freak out if I do indeed think about them.

I DO have expectations -- of myself and my carefully chosen team, but I know that things can change and don't always go as planned so I might have to make amendments to my birth preferences. I know the "birth plan" could go out the window entirely along with my husband, but I hope not. I keep thinking it's going to be fine and everything will work out and be pleasant and uneventful. Is that absolutely ridiculous? Crazy? I've kinda been thinking this way for the past few weeks. I was giving some more thought to this today and I've decided that I'm not delusional. I think this is the best way for me to approach baby time. How else should I look at it? Dreading it like paying taxes or going to the dentist? These are things that must be done. I might as well embrace the unknown and try to have the best outlook imaginable. If it all goes to shit, fine. But maybe something will go my way and it'll be great! Anything will be better than the past 8 months, right?

Dino-Mite!

Not to worry, this plush guy is not my baby! The seal puppet has been a baby stand-in for all things that require a size measurement these days. Ergo baby carrier, Moby wrap and swaddling practice... and now it is a model for my first home-sewn baby clothing item, a dinosaur fleece sack. It's not supposed to be a sleeping sack but I'm sure baby will fall asleep wearing it at some point. IF it fits. The seal is a little stuffed in there.
I fear it will be too small or the sleeves will be octopus-length or something. I made sure it would be easy to get over baby's head by adding a little piece of Velcro on one of the shoulders but it might be scratchy or uncomfortable or a fire hazard to wear. I am almost afraid of using it because it hasn't passed any stringent baby clothing tests (they have those now). I guess I've just got one option: test it on my own baby! Now I have to wait for it to show up for a fitting.

Labor Day has come and gone...

And I have no news. All quiet. No action. Nothing.
This is week 39, or tomorrow will officially be week 39... so there's still plenty of time for nothing to happen before something happens. Since I was personally 16 days late (and I've been late for virtually everything since then), I really shouldn't be hoping that Trouble will come early. Or even on time. So, I've been trying to come up with things to occupy my time and don't require a whole lot of effort. Watching movies, reading and emailing are all good because I can put my feet up while doing these things and my hands and feet don't swell as much as they do when I'm standing up. This means they're only the size of ski gloves, not Mickey Mouse paws. I'm taking suggestions for other activities, but don't get too crazy. I shouldn't be zip-lining or kayaking any time soon.

Let's Play A Game

It's time to play.... Guess what this baby item is for! If you have a baby or child(ren), this should be easy. For those of us without that life experience [yet], this is sorta a nightmare... fitting into the same category as "Time to install the car seat."

I got a new shipment of baby goodies from my very generous sister in law and brother today. Inside the big box I found many cloth Happy Heiny diapers (so tiny!) and an assortment of other stuff. There was just one little problem: I don't know what to do with two of the things in the box. I'm not certain what they are for. Test yourself and tell me what they're for... or make something up and let me know. Oh, and no smarty-pants answers for the second one-- I put the tea kettle in the photo for scale.

Sleepless in Topanga

It has officially happened... I've gotten to the uncomfortable and sleepless stage... which will likely continue for at least a month regardless of where Trouble is. Luckily, since Wednesday, the nausea has been somewhat curbed. This might be because I've been roaming the house at 2am, doing things like staring into the refrigerator. Not that I want to, but I tend to be hungry and a little nauseous then. This means that morning nausea is curbed enough to allow me to normally function. It comes in the afternoon instead, but that's not too bad. I am awake and can eat something to make it go away or take a little Zofran and hope it subsides.

Now to my latest problem, which can simply be described as pregnant insomnia. I'm pretty close to a two-hour sleep cycle, meaning that's how often I need to get up to pee. Someone told me my bladder is now the size of a tea cup. I'm thinking they meant a tea cup in a dollhouse. I swear life would be easier with gigantic pregnant-lady size Depends, but once I think about it a little longer, I just think it's best I keep getting up to pee. Last night the dog decided she was on the same pee cycle, so I got to go outside at 2:30. It was beautiful and quiet and the moon was out, which left a soft glow on the back yard so I could see where I was walking. I can't just let the dog out because she could (literally) be eaten by a coyote. They were out too, so it was an early morning of activity in the canyon.

I ended up lying on the couch after that. I only had to get up a few more times so I don't think I was awake as long as I thought when I eventually woke up at 7 to see the dog sitting in front of me, waiting to go out again. Now I'm definitely ready to go back to bed and try to postpone officially getting up and doing anything.

A Few Pounds Lighter!

BEFORE


DURING

It may be considered a drastic move, but it was over 100 degrees outside today and the extra long locks needed to go. It was easy to stay cool when I put my hair up all the time, but it was just too long and yes, hot.

I'm not sure if I've lost any weight today, but I do feel a little lighter in addition to being cooler. That's all that matters, right? Twelve inches of hair are history! I hadn't had it cut since February (woah) and now someone will benefit from my once-long locks and I'm ready to start a new chapter in my life. A new hair cut can do that. I think clothes can too. It makes me want to see Nora Ephron's play, "Love, Loss, and What I Wore" -- I think women are a lot more aware of these things than men. We remember big life events relative to what we were wearing, which shoes we had on, how our hair was done... And guys barely remember the order of events, if they remember the event itself at all.

I think after the past seven + months, I'm ready to leave the long hair behind and start a new chapter: a short hair chapter. Not too short though, since that could be a total disaster. I've kept a bob. Any shorter and I would seriously question my judgment and that of the friend who agreed to cut it for me.

I vaguely remember being fit and active. My new 'do will be good for getting back into that old groove. Easier to work with, wash, style, all of the above. It's cooler (good on days like today when temps reached 108!), and baby won't be able to grab it and tug just yet. I may not be physically lighter, but my shorter hair has made me just a little more buoyant today. I hope it'll get me through the next few days as well -- forecasts are predicting triple digits until Sunday!


AFTER

Snip, Snip

It's time. No silly, baby is still very content where it is... but it's time for me to get my hair cut.
Really. It's a little out of control. I have looked up the guidelines for various donation programs and I'm going to get it cut today and send it to Pantene. I chose this program because they use the hair for grown-ups and I read that Locks of Love gets too many donations (is that possible?).

It's also good that it's going to be over 100 degrees today and it'll remind me why I want it shorter!
Not too short.
I'll send before and afters.
weeee

I Dream of Dinner

So far the Dream Dinner concept has been a hit. It's only Tuesday and we've eaten two of the six meals we 'made' (assembled) on Saturday. No, in case you're curious, we don't have a baby yet so we have no valid excuse for eating our special dinners. My only defense is that I'm just tired of doing anything at all, including breathing. Everything's tougher these days!

Show me the pork chops

*Finally* I am fairly comfortable walking around a grocery store or being around food. I've been ok with food for at least a couple of months. Not that I'm ok eating a whole lot of it but I'm alright being around it.

Since Trouble is *hopefully* just weeks away from arriving and becoming a tax deduction and a way for me to travel in the HOV lane (woo-hoo!), we thought it would be a good time to use a gift certificate we got for a place called Dream Dinners. It's fancy frozen food. They make food, you prep it, freeze it and eat it. It's pretty simple and we hope it'll be a good solution to nights when we just want to stare at Trouble and don't feel like making (or eating) a frozen pizza or clean out our pantry's tuna fish section (yes, we have a designated tuna area... and one for peanut butter, too).

Here's how it works: Menus change every month. You go on-line and select meals you want, pay for them, and then physically go and assemble your dinners at a special Dream Dinner kitchen on a given date and time. We selected the August menu and chose midday on Saturday so that we could both participate. I have to say that even without eating any of our meals, it was probably one of the most fulfilling and entertaining couples activities we've done for quite some time. There are a few reasons for this but the big one is that it was a very organized and clean (and even color-coded) kitchen, and Clint was actually giddy about the entire experience. It was great how excited he got about all of the ziplock bags, pre-measured ingredients and easy-to-follow "recipes" we were given. We got to wear aprons too, which I thought was fun.

How does it work? You go around to different stations with various ingredients and mix your meals together. The photo on this post is of one of the meals we assembled, which is a fancy pork chop. We might go back -- we'll have to see how quickly we eat our pre-assembled meals and if we enjoy them. I know Clint wants to go back just for the pure thrill of putting all of the ingredients into neat and tidy baggies!

Too big for breakfast links...

Just a quick post to show y'all that I've moved from small breakfast sausage feet to ballpark frank level. Nitrate free, yet still plump!

Trust me... you don't want to see my toes.

Grannie Pants

There was a time, maybe 5 months ago, when I thought I should return some maternity clothes that I got in the mail because there was no way I'd ever be big enough to fit in them. By the beginning of this month, I realized I was sorely mistaken. Now some of those same articles are actually too SMALL. Youch.

There was another incident more recently when I went to Target and decided to *indulge* in some new undergarments. We're not talking anything fancy or sensual here-- strictly utilitarian. There's a lot of stuff that nobody tells you about pregnancy, including that you'll probably not want to wear any of your previous lacy/ruffled/skimpy or attractive knickers after the second trimester for a variety of reasons. I chose spring-like hues and tossed them in my cart.

When I got home and pulled the size 8(!) underwear out of the pouch I had a similar thought that I did with the maternity clothes: NO WAY. What was I going to do with them? They were ginormous. I figured I couldn't return the Sumo panties but they were only $6 so no major loss. I tucked them away in my closet and tried not to think about them.

Yesterday it was over 30C/100F here. Even when I avoided the oven-like heat outside, I was hot. By evening, I learned that I am (was?) living in denial about my bloomer situation. I had thought I'd be ok in some pre-pregnancy panties for the day. I couldn't have been more wrong. I had a very raw and very chafed inner thigh from the elastic on my cute cotton undies. I had that long-run leg chafing feeling without the satisfaction of having just been on a long run. I hobbled around like a cowboy after a day-long cattle wrangling until it was time for bed and then I hoped that the cycling butter balm I had would rapidly heal my raw bits.

I awoke feeling much better but I don't think I'll be trying to squeeze into my old knicks any time soon. I have learned my lesson. I dug out the "XL" sherbet pink panties this morning and I put them on. They fit. I didn't shed a tear, but I'm really hoping that in the next 6-8 weeks I'll be putting them back into their hiding place in a dark corner of my closet.

37 Weeks Down! 3(+) to go

Today officially marks week 37, which means that I've got somewhere between 3 and 5 weeks remaining. As of today's baby doctor visit, nothing will be happening any time soon (good)... little lungs apparently still need a little time to percolate.

While this is a good thing, I was thinking how it'd be nice if Trouble decided to make something happen in 2 and a half weeks or so. That'd be good. I don't really mind the puffy feet/fingers/toes/hands or all of the bathroom visits, but I've still got some issues with the nausea and vomiting. I'd really *love* to get rid of it, but by now I've accepted it won't go away until baby arrives. So if we could hurry things up just a little bit, that'd be nice.

To add a little excitement to the baby waiting time, I am inviting any interested parties to set their prediction for the time of day baby will actually come -- which I hope will coincide with my freedom from the nausea I've endured since late January. So far the most popular time of day is between 3 and 4am, and predictions are pretty much evenly split between the two genders. Place your bets now!

Tuesday: A New Day

After only barely interrupted sleep last night (dehydration can be good! Not as many trips to the bathroom!) I think I might have just been exhausted, which led to my physical meltdown yesterday. I have tried to start the day off a little better, meaning that I am back to the 230 calories per serving chocolate milk (I had tried to kick it but alas, it seems to be one of the only remedies for the morning yuck) and I made myself some herbal iced tea since water alone is less than appetizing. I've been awake for nearly 2 hours (Clint offered to do the morning dog routine so I could sleep a little longer! YAAAY!) and so far I've only been a 1 or 2 on the morning sickness scale. MUCH MUCH BETTER!

My new freedom has led me to tackle some of the things I didn't yesterday, including packing up the giant baby car seat for a return to the Magic Beanstalk place. Yes, the seat, while (probably very safe), plush and very soft, didn't work with any of the stuff I had gotten from friends and relatives. When I ordered it, I didn't know that I would suddenly acquire two car seats and three matching bases made by a different manufacturer. The used car seats aren't as cushy, which Clint was quick to point out, but it didn't make sense to keep the other one when it didn't match anything we have. Here's how heavy it was: It cost $25 just to send it back! Now that it is gone, I can focus on cleaning up my desk, which I've been neglecting for at least three weeks. By the end of the day I'd like to have it all tidy... I'm posting a before photo and I'll post an "after" one if I'm successful.

Regression (again?!)

Yes, you are reading this correctly. The date is late August and we are into Week 37 of (approximately) 40, and I was so sick today that the only thing I managed to do was send out some overdue mail. I think I had three changes of clothes too, so now I am doing laundry as well... if that counts.

I don't understand how this could be happening again but it is, and I have no options other than to deal with it and count the days (25ish) until I won't be pregnant anymore. At least now it isn't as bad as having 25ish WEEKS left... Goodness, that would really be terrible. In addition to the lingering sickness, the edema is so bad that I really do have little sausage fingers and the sniffs have returned so the neti pot has to come out of hiding soon. All of these things, combined with the summer heat, led to today's first... A resignation of sorts: I watched a movie in the middle of the day. No multitasking, no matter that I didn't accomplish anything. I have recently decided that I can't think I will manage to do the things I want because then I will only be disappointed when I don't get them done. Instead, I'll have a list of goals and if I do any of them I should be super happy!

Back to today: I rented Hot Tub Time Machine with hopes it would make me forget how miserable I was. It's probably not a movie I would have watched if I felt like actually putting any effort into my cinematic experience. I really didn't care; I just plopped down on the sofa and hoped to feel better. It was more raunchy than I expected and there were a few instances of vomiting, which made me want to demand that the MPA issues warnings. "the following movie contains all of the following:...sensitive audiences, such as the elderly and extremely pregnant ladies, may prefer to see Babe." Man, the last thing you feel like watching when you are sick is a movie with other sick people. Except Ferris Bueller's Day Off. And since he isn't really sick, that can't count.

By the end of the movie I was feeling pretty decent-- well enough to go to the post office. It was 4:30 by the time I left the house. If this continues and I only have short bursts of productivity in the coming weeks, I think I will go crazy!

Weighing In

Today marks the beginning of the end! Officially, this is week 36 so I'll be going to see my doctor every week from now until Trouble/ baby Rockwell decides to arrive, which I'm guessing could be as late as September 24th or so. The doctor says I can go to 42 weeks as long as everything is still looking ok. If Trouble's later than 10 days, which is possible, there'd be a new sign of the Zodiac in our household. This might be good for me since I already live with a Virgo and I can't stand how clean and tidy the house has to be... but I digress.

The news today is that based on a bunch of measurements, baby is approximately 6 pounds and 3 or 4 ounces. It's got plenty of fluid to bounce around in and I was even able to see little dark circles indicating a bladder and stomach! I was told that this is a sign that baby is practicing breathing and ingesting things and stuff is working properly.

I saw a little fist but not much else and couldn't make out most of the body parts. I saw a femur! And some ribs and a spine. All of these things are neat. Oh-- and baby appears to be in the right position for a fast (ok - maybe not fast, but a regular, uneventful and natural) exit. It is facing the right way and everything with legs off to the left a bit. My doctor glazed over various reproductive organs because if we don't want to know, she doesn't want to know. I like that... a surprise for everyone! And it won't be much longer before we know the answer to the question I'm asked all the time!

So baby Trouble will most likely be a normal baby weight, which is exciting for someone who wants a natural birth and personally weighed more than ten pounds! There's very little chance that Trouble will gain 4 whole pounds in the 4 weeks remaining. I guess it's possible, but a little scary to think about! My weight didn't change this week (yay) -- I am still 184 pounds. It seems crazy, but that's what the scale says. It'll be nice to feel light(er) again... SOON.

Car Seat Madness

Since Trouble could decide to come any day in the next 4-6 weeks (unlikely, but possible), I was encouraged to do things like pack a bag for a speedy departure to the hospital and get things ready for the tiny human that will eventually live here. The list of things to do included getting a car seat for said tiny human (which shall not be named Trouble in real life because Clint as vetoed it... sorry, Trouble fans).

I ordered the car seat on-line based on something I read on a website called Magic Beans. Of course, if I'm reading any website with "magic" in the title, this MUST be a safe, reliable, trustworthy piece of baby gear, right? Either that, or it will magically take my money and disappear.

The seat arrived today and it was so heavy that I could barely get it out of the box. This doesn't bode well. It means I am weak and the seat weighs something like 10 times what my baby will probably weigh. It was a miniature fortress that I have to somehow put in my car and be expected to extract the child from every time I want to take it somewhere. I don't leave my dog in the car, but after looking at this seat and the buckles and straps, I'm going to be tempted to leave the kid in there. Really. I don't think I could even practice with one of the baby-size puppets we have (the harbor seal is baby size) because I would buckle it to itself and probably rip the stuffing out or something.

I got the "adventure" colours - gray and green. It's not gender specific and I thought it might clean up well in the event of an accident, but now that I've had to pick the thing up, this baby isn't going anywhere. Ever.

Tough to Get a Grip

While things are a bit unpredictable in the mental health realm lately-- I'm happy! I'm frustrated! I'm excited! I'm scared! I'm just about any and everything... Things are becoming increasingly predictable physically: uncomfortable. I almost made it an entire week without getting sick, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. So there's that physical hurdle, but there's also more now: I'm puffy (everywhere)! I don't fit in much! I tend to be hot! My shoes don't fit!

Last night (ok, more like this morning) my puffy mitts made the simple task of drinking my bedside water a disaster. Luckily I've switched to plastic, because I can't get a single paw around our big glasses these days. It wasn't a big deal, but it was an "oh shit" moment when I realized that water was dripping next to my clock. It was 3am. I unplugged it, took the opportunity while I was standing to shuffle over to the bathroom, and then wiped up the excess and fell (sorta tripped) back into bed. Will I be this sleepy and clumsy when I have to change diapers in the middle of the night?

Stocked!

All the stuff swap and family-donated goodies are clean and soon they'll be folded and put away. To those of you who sent something gently used or a sweet moose (sporting the new frog booties), THANK YOU! We have sooo much! I just hope we won't go through everything in one day!

Mirror, mirror not on my wall

A recent houseguest (you know who you are) told me we needed a full length mirror. It suddenly occurred to me that people DO care about what they look like. Don't get me wrong-- I also care about how I look and this morning I even curled my hair for my little tv segment (looked good!), but I haven't felt the need to give myself a full head to toe inspection prior to leaving the house lately.

I was thinking about this today when I was in the grocery store getting a sandwich that caused some nasty heartburn-- my first bout since probably week 14 or so. As I made my way across the parking lot and two cars stopped for me, I couldn't help but think that they weren't just polite drivers, they saw a pregnant lady! I forget what I look like until something like that happens. Other examples over the past few days: doors open for me or people hold elevators, one guy even offered to help me load my truck at Home Depot (no, thanks). Even though Clint says I've "been pregnant forever," I know this isn't true because I still don't think of myself as looking pregnant. I figure I am the same as I have been for roughly the past ten years, size 8ish. It's only when I eat and dribble (often) that I realize I am so, so wrong!

Anyway, the mirror: I have a full length one that hides on the back of the door of my closet. I don't look at it much. Maybe I'll move it into the guest / baby room so that other people can have the full body view they need it and baby can stare at itself when the time comes.

PregnanTV

This morning I joined 6 other almost mamas at a place called the Pump Station (no, they don't sell gas... but they do have snacks) for a filming. I got an email earlier this week about taping for a Rachael Ray show segment with some woman I had never heard of-- apparently she's a Rachael buddy -- and her partner or husband, I don't know which. Seeing this as an opportunity to meet some mamas and get myself some swag, of course I replied. After all, not many mamas have this kind of opportunity!

We gathered and waited (as I expected) and had some time to chat and eat, which -- lately-- is always a good thing for me. First, second, third breakfasts... they all help curb the nausea that continues to linger. I think I had two bagels by the time we got around to the taping. After about an hour and a half of chatting and listening to a baby skin care expert tell us about the unique features of baby skin, we were finally asked to get ready for the segment. I learned how to swaddle and practice some baby wearing, which is hard to do when your baby is taking up the tummy space you need for the wrap. It doesn't really work to be pregnant and try baby wrapping. Regardless, it was a decent use of my morning if only for the learning experience. There was also a little added entertainment for lil ol' Topanga mama that I am -- the Rachael buddy was wearing 5 inch heels (the woman is 7 months pregnant) and her husband/partner really was clueless. I believe at one point he asked if swaddling was to prepare baby for "sleeping through the night" -- as if any newborn is going to actually be sleeping through the night! And he had a few other questions, one regarding diapers and if it was ok to just leave a wet diaper on for a change schedule of a "couple" of times a day. hmmm. Were these genuine questions, or is he the comic relief? I left knowing that there's someone who will likely have a tougher time with parenthood than me (and Clint!)

Stuff Swap Success!

As of today, I have all the baby clothes I'll need for at least the first three months... and I got them all in under an hour... for free! How? A friend from Arlington who was once my babysitter and one of my favorite people when I was 10 because of the awesome hand-me-downs she gave me has given me more stuff... 20 years later!

Holding little tiny clothes sorta makes the whole thing seem more real for some reason. I know it's REAL, but this gives baby something to wear -- not just me imagining some tiny life form. Now I can imagine a tiny life form wearing Lakers socks.

I have it all --- everything from little tiny baby socks and mittens to a giant stroller and bouncy seat for baby-tainment after a few months. It's all part of a stuff swap she organizes with 8 or 9 other moms. She keeps tubs full of clothing and blankets and sheets and everything in her garage. Moms take what they need when they need it and return it later.

When this stuff is outgrown, there's lots more to choose from too, all at no cost. There is only the expectation of returning it when it's too small and adding whatever else I've got. This will save me sooo much time, energy and money. I am grateful to have friends who are older... and wise enough to start such a great swap!
weeeeeee

Trouble!

Today I got a package from UPS addressed to Trouble Rockwell. I was home when it was delivered and the UPS guy thought it was really very cool that someone would be named Trouble. "Got a package for Trouble.... Is that a birth name?" Well, see, we've been calling it Trouble because it has caused a lot of it over the past 7 months or so. The nickname stuck and perhaps it will continue to stick permanently if it's really that awesome. It looks good on the label. Add the surname and it has a good ring to it. There are already a few songs dedicated to trouble. Not so bad!

Everyone keeps asking if we've chosen a name (no), but maybe I'll have to put Trouble on the list for real! It could be Trouble ________ Rockwell, and then we could shorten it to be T. _______ Rockwell, so it's a real conversation starter. It's better than Santa or Lady Gaga Rockwell. Trouble's actually pretty good. Or maybe not. hmm.

Move it!

I didn't ever really think about my insides too much until the past few weeks. Normally, things like ribs hang out and don't do a lot. Lately, they've been hanging out and getting in the way. Now that my uterus is the size of a melon and the nugget is more the size of a hen than a nugget, there isn't room for everything. Hence the incredible shrinking ____________ (Fill in the blank: stomach/bladder...)

Nothing is really where you'd think or where it belongs -- I read today that in this, the 35th week, even my heart has to move a little to make room for the little person who will be baby Rockwell. Crazy!

Birthday Blues

Today I am officially a year older, meaning this was the day 30 years ago that my parents ever so patiently waited (an extra SIXTEEN days) for. It must have been agonizing! I don't think it is the fact that I am 30 that made me mopey and generally listless, So I am going to blame the baby.

Being pregnant is not exactly fun. In fact, for me, it would probably qualify as the #1 thing that if I knew what I was getting into when I signed on for the adventure, I would not be doing. I doubt that "parenthood" will fit into this category--- at least I hope not. There are many things that I wasn't quite ready for mentally that have gone on over the past 7 months or so that have led me to come to this conclusion, including the emotional roller coaster I can't seem to get off of. Angst, panic, frustration, fear, anticipation, worry-- if it is possible to feel all of these at the same time, I've done it. And now I have to sign off so I can go somewhere to cry again.

Deferred Maintenance and More

As I inch closer to baby time, I am finding things that need attention... but not things you might think of. Many parents-to-be have a list of things to do before a baby arrives and their lives change forever. These lists include things such as going to Costco to load up on paper towels or painting a nursery or doing something else around the house. Since I've been overseeing house construction since April, I'm sooo over that. Now I have started a new list of things that I need to do-- but these are things that will have to wait until AFTER baby arrives. We'll call this deferred maintenance. Or deferring maintenance, since I seem to find something new each day.

I think living in my new community helps a bit with the acceptance of my current state. It seems the locals have a more lax attitude toward things like hygiene and forgiving when it comes to fashion than in my old 'hood. My hair hasn't been cut since my friend Heather trimmed it in early March. I have even crazier hair now, meaning it's longer than ever before (ever ever ever) and it's getting light on the ends without any kind of color treatment or anything, meaning that hair is ancient! Ok, so deferred maintenance #1: get new haircut. I'm deferring because I can't commit to what I want to do, so it's best to just not do anything right now. #2: I need a pedicure. Mum, thanks for offering to take me and then offering to GIVE ME A PEDICURE (only a mom would do that!), but I just don't think I wanna do it right now. I can barely see my feet, so what's the point? #3: I either have bruised or cracked a rib, which hurts every time I roll over too fast or forcefully onto my left side (think: beached whale). I really can't do anything about this right now, so it automatically becomes deferred. #4: I really ought to do something about my crazy eyebrows. Thing is, they've turned blonde from being in the sun so they're not too terrible. Sunkissed, in fact. They say owners start to look like their dogs... my dog and I now have matching golden eyebrows. #5: I have to see the dentist. I might even need a few new teeth at this point. I have special toothpaste, but I don't think it's working. Baby had better have some great looking pearly whites when the time comes. #6 through 100?... There's so much I'd like to do -- sleep through the night, ride a bike, eat sushi, stop wearing Clint's clothes, sleep through the night on my stomach, wear anything on my side of the closet, sleep through the night in any position other than on my side, not have to pee every 5 minutes, not feel like vomiting every time I wake up in the morning, stop eating for more than 3 hours and not suffer consequences... the list goes on and on, but everything will have to wait another month or so. One day at a time!

Eating Machine

I think I'll invent an eating machine that I can plug into somehow and absorb the food nutrients. What's that you say? It's already been invented and it has a more medical sounding name like a... feeding tube? And it's really gross? Ok. Well, how about we just stick to the Willy Wonka version-- the three-course dinner chewing gum? I could use an invention room to work on my gum meals...

I thought I liked to eat until I had to do it all the time. Really-- that's what it seems like. Constant eating. And if I'm not eating, I am drinking something and thinking about what I could/should be eating. It's recommended that baby mamas get lots of protein during pregnancy. Apparently protein is good for all sorts of things, including brain development and building a strong placenta. I'm just really tired of constantly trying to come up with creative protein sources. Soy beans, whey and soy shakes, cheese, milk (chocolate-- regular isn't so tasty), cottage cheese, more cheese... Enough already!

Six weeks and a day until the official due date... at the going rate, that means 6 cartons of milk, three blocks of cheese, 45 soy shakes and a lot more nibbling to go.

Waddle Time? Already?

I didn't think that it would happen, but it has. I have started waddling. At least I was waddling this morning. I was half awake, waddling to the bathroom, when I thought to myself, "I'm waddling."
Woah.
I can't say I did much waddling for the rest of the day, but I can definitely tell that I'm wider and probably slowing down a bit. I know I'm always tired. Still. And I realize I'm being lazy with such a short post, but I really would like to go to bed!

Deep breath? Not so much.

I'm discovering that it's hard to catch my breath lately. I find myself yawning and not quite getting enough air. It is usually while I'm lying down or sitting, but it also happens when Pattie and I go up stairs or a hill (the driveway) or if I try to walk briskly. It's sorta cute that she knows to wait for me now. She'll pause halfway up the driveway and turn and wait. Tonight Clint sprinted up the stairs with her from the Strand to the street (we're on a little vacation for the week-- right by the waves at the beach south of LA but north of SD) and they waited at the top for me. She sat patiently and once I got there, she just turned around and kept walking. Funny girl.
I am hoping that this breathing problem is just part of being squished. There's a lot of squishing going on. The bladder is squished, I learned last week that my appendix has moved north, and there's pressure on so many other body parts I'm not sure where to start... I think you get the idea. The breathing can be a problem when I try to wind down and completely relax (part of preparation for baby time) or just nap. General bed time winding down has proven to be difficult too. I have a feeling it's just gonna get harder, but it'll just be harder for another 7 weeks. Every day is a little closer... yay!

Not just the feet

I have something new add to the list of pregnancy delights... puffy hands! I go for long walks with the puppy and have noticed a change in my paws lately: they're fat little piggies! My toes were already taught and square from sitting/standing/walking/moving, but now my hands are joining in the fun. I've taken to standing with my hands in the air like a doctor scrubbing in for surgery. Drain, baby, drain!

Itchy

The puppies (Pattie and Sam) had a few hours of tennis ball playtime yesterday. As you can see (check Pattie's paws), they had a good time. Now, as the sun is rising here in CA and she snores in a corner, I'm trying not to scratch myself to the point of bleeding.

For the past few weeks I've been struggling to figure out exactly what parasite I'm fighting. I've surrendered to the good kind -- the one that some day will take me in when I spend my life savings on Pez and send me photos of my grandchildren... It's another parasite that has literally been eating away at me.

I have itchy little pink welts that I just can't seem to shake. If it were a visible foe, perhaps I would have better luck in my battle, but the microscopic pests are elusive little buggers! My Google self diagnosis first led me to what seemed logical: fleas. But other than being itchy, I have no proof that fleas are to blame for my 2, 3, and 4 o'clock in the morning itching. After I had the organic pest control people out to my house I went back to the computer to check out MITES. Oh man, if they are indeed mites, I have a mighty tiny but very big problem.

Mites are in the tick/spider family and aren't insects. They have three sets of legs until they're big enough to cause trouble and then they grow another set, so once they reach adulthood, they have four pairs of legs (see, you've learned something today!)...

Apparently, there are different kinds of mites. I could very well have all of them:
Rat mites. We know that I've dealt with a few rodents.
Straw Itch Mites or Itch Mites. I'm thinking these guys might be to blame -- they live in dried grass. I have a lot of dried grass around. Everywhere, in fact. The NC State University website dedicated to mites says, "they are frequently a problem for people doing landscaping or feeding horses and other livestock..." No horses here, but I do fit the "doing landscaping" part of this sentence.
Chiggers or red bugs. I didn't think these lived in California, but only because people here don't say the word "chigger" with the same drawl or enthusiasm of those from The South. No swamps here, but it's possible there are chiggers.
Bird Mites. There are swallows in virtually every eve of my house. Here I thought they were helping to control the bugs, but I could be harboring avian terrorists!
Scabies! Oh no! These just SOUND bad. Nevermind that these guys burrow under the skin and lay eggs. I'm already incubating enough at the moment, thanks.
The only mites I don't think are guilty are chicken mites, simply because I don't have any chickens.

I haven't seen anything that makes me believe that the nugget is at risk. Sure, mites carry diseases, but so do a lot of other animals. I'm sure that my keyboard is harboring some kind of deadly bacteria. I could get a deadly virus from one of the nasty public restrooms I have to use all the time now, too. I could do more harm with a repellant than just dealing with the itchies. You get the point.

Rather than try to pinpoint exactly what is to blame, I'd like to have all colonies of the buggers killed so I can go outside and not fear the consequences of walking in the grass. Nevermind that I can't sleep through the night-- I don't mind getting up to pee. That doesn't keep me awake. It's the constant itching!

Hot hot heat

I think I am going to melt.
I am really glad I grew up in a humid climate where one grows accustomed to being hot and sticky... And I am grateful that my air conditioner is working properly. I haven't needed it at all until this week, but I sure am glad it is on and cooling my hot little sausage feet!
As an August babe, I would like to think that heat and sun tolerance is part of my personality. I believe this to a certain extent, but only to the point where I find a pool to jump into.
Tomorrow I must find time for a dip!

The Hospital Tour

This week we took a tour of the maternity wing of the hospital where I expect to have the nugget. I can't say I was too terribly impressed with the spokesperson the hospital had leading the tour but the facilities were nice and since I can't say I plan to take a vacation there, everything should be fine.
What irked me was that the woman who hosted the thing made continuous references fitting traditional gender roles. When your doctor comes, HE'S gonna want to do ____, and if you ask a nurse, SHE'LL get everything you need.... each time she made a doctor reference, it was always a "he" and the nurses were "she" and babies were all boys. This wasn't even the biggest issue I had with the lecture part of the tour experience. What was it?
Medication. Intervention. Whatever you want to call it... She was a drug pusher! It was as if natural childbirth was a bad thing. I've taken an 8 week course (12 weeks compressed into 8) and mentally, I haven't even considered discussion of an epidural or other intervention with my doctor. I guess I've just decided that if I can survive 8 months of general illness, nausea and vomiting, I should be able to handle the last 24-48 hours of it. I know I'm probably underestimating everything, since I do tend to do that, but I'm also an optimist and I know nothing can be as bad as some of the shit I've had to deal with! I won't know until September if I'm truly prepared, but I felt like I knew so much more than the other people on our tour. I have 9 weeks to prepare and I know I can do it!

A Miraculous Event

This is both relevant and completely irrelevant so I thought I just had to post it. I have a 'real' topic to write about today but I feel this is equally worthy of mentioning so I'll save what I was going to write for tomorrow.

This morning I did some chores including driving the yard waste trash cans up the driveway. I'm not that much of a sissy that I always drive my trash cans around. See, I have a steep driveway. Very steep. So steep that big trucks can't make it up because of the incline. The recycling and trash had not been picked up yet so it was just the yard bins. I usually wheel them up by foot but it was already 100 degrees - that's over 30C for you metric fans.

Since my neighbors hadn't filled their trash cans, I saw this as an opportunity to put my trash and recycling in their bins. I loaded a bunch of stuff in the back of the truck and went back down the driveway. Then Pattie the Wonderdoodle and I took a little break before Clint's third refrigerator (don't get me started-- apparently this one is specifically designed for wine-- wine I can't drink right now) arrived. I drove down to the bottom of the hill and drove the refrigerator up to the garage. Then there was a lull of activity and no use for the truck so I put the keys somewhere.

I realized around 3 that I couldn't remember where my keys were. I forget a lot of stuff lately, so this was normal. I knew they were around... but not certain where. I needed to go out to get a very cool wooden $30 high chair I found on craigslist but couldn't locate my keys. So I took Clint's. I drove 5 miles down the canyon to the 101 freeway (north, away from the beach) and to the freeway where I went another 7 miles and picked up the high chair. Then Pattie and I went to PetSmart because I had to pee and I wasn't about to leave her alone in the car. I thought this was genius, no? Not the reason for posting this story but certainly could be the smartest thing I've done all day.

So we stopped at PetSmart, I got P-ditty a new toy for just being herself and we went home. Mind you, we've been out for more than an hour and probably driven a good 30 miles by the end of this trip. We went up to the top of the canyon, down the other side, onto the freeway, off the freeway, back on the freeway and back up the hill. I pulled up the driveway and parked in front of the garage and looked out to see that I wasn't going to run into anything.

That's when I saw them.... on the OUTSIDE dashboard where the windshield wiper meets the body of the truck. MY KEYS were sitting right there. They had held on the entire time, nestled right in that little sweet spot. I couldn't believe what I saw! And I couldn't believe I would be so dense that I didn't see them before leaving or while driving or when I parked or parked again or.... I still have a hard time accepting that I did something like that.... but I'm also very glad that in the future, I can use my one remaining brain cell to put my keys IN the car instead of outside of it.

Looking for a Shoulder...

But not for crying.

Did you know you can make yourself car sick? Ok, well YOU might not be able to do that, but I managed to make myself car sick today. I avoided vomiting and heaving when I first woke up this morning (yay), but I had to go to meet a friend for a swim lesson around 10 and didn't fare very well. I had made myself a Vitamix smoothie (sadly, I think you know where it ended up) and I took that with me when I got in the car. I also got myself a little egg sandwich at Pat's Grill up the road to hold me over through the lesson. At $7, it was the most expensive single egg I think I've ever purchased, but I digress.

The road down to the beach is steep and winds around the canyon in switchbacks a few times. Ok, a lot. The speed limit is usually 40, but some parts are 25 and a lot of it doesn't have a shoulder. I figured the no shoulder thing is a problem on two wheels (bicycles, not motorbikes) but I didn't think I would be desperately looking for a spot to pull off the road until today.

Historically, it has been easy for me to get sick in Clint's car, which is a low, sporty vehicle that has what I call superchargers on the back. Nobody needs that kind of power in 20mph LA traffic. I've been sick in my car before, but not while I was driving and certainly not when the car was actually moving. Today was a first. I really thought I could make it to the bottom of the hill-- or at least to the wildflower area where there's ample parking... but I was mistaken.

I will spare you the details, but I would like to recommend the following to all pregnant ladies, no matter how good they feel or what stage of pregnancy they're in:
- Have towels in your car. Both terrycloth and paper towels come in handy. I am lucky, I have a dog and keep one in the car for her too, so I had three towels to choose from today.
- Always have a spare set of clothing - tops and bottoms tucked away somewhere in case you need them.
- Water is good too, so if you have room, leave some bottles of water in the car.
ALL of these things will be useful if you find yourself in the same situation I faced today. Because of my Boy Scout approach to planning, I still made it to the swim lesson. I was late, but I managed to get there after I eventually got myself together after finding the elusive road shoulder I was looking for.

Saved By Vitamix

I got some bad news last week after a visit with my doctor. I now have to go every other week rather than once a month. That's not the bad news. I really don't mind going. The bad news came when, during my visit, I said I was feeling more lousy than usual. My doc decided we should double check that everything is ok. After a blood test, we found that my protein levels were low. This is understandable because of the nausea, but still not something that's ok.

StorkNet.com says, "Data show that most women living in developed countries usually consume greater than 60 grams of protein daily, so meeting this minimum is usually not a struggle. However, women with severe nausea and vomiting during pregnancy (hyperemesis), urinary protein losses (preeclampsia), or those who follow strict vegetarian diets are at higher risk."

I had been trying, but meat makes me queasy and I could only eat so much cheese before feeling like a cow. It's also not easy with a house under construction and no kitchen sink or cooktop (til Sunday).... Inadequate protein during pregnancy is a big no-no. It can lead to poor brain development and low birth weight, so I really had to try harder to get my levels into the normal range.

That's where the Vitamix came in. This is a high performance blender. An awesome, blends everything with the greatest of ease piece of machinery. I know that whey and soy aren't going to fix all of my problems, but they're helping stave off some of the nausea and I hope helping in the protein department. Plus, you can blend an entire pineapple in the VitaMix. I won't be making steak shakes any time soon, but this is a start.

You know you're old when...

I have been getting some disturbing mail lately. Ok, it's not too disturbing, but it certainly makes me feel old. I got offers for two magazines that made me wonder what other lists I'm on-- Better Homes and Gardens and Ladies' Home Journal both offered me a full year subscription for $5.99.

I'm not sure I'm ready to subscribe to these just yet. If I reply, I might open the floodgates for other publications like Readers' Digest. I checked out the LHJ website and Cindy Crawford is on it. So, ok. They're trying to remain relevant. For a mag that's been around since 1883, that's pretty good. Staying power. But I'm not sure I need a magazine that outlines Katherine McPhee's "do-good" summer plans.

Do they have a Ladies' Hiking and Camping Journal? With practical outdoor family advice and activities? That might be more my speed.

Tipping the Scale

Funny, I don't look like I weigh 172 pounds.... At least, I hope not. I was shocked to see that I have gained 6 pounds in the past two weeks, mostly because I didn't think flan and Triscuits weighed that much. I haven't even been hitting the ice cream! I found that looking at kilos made me feel better about the weight gain than lbs, so I think I might stick to kg from now on. I know the weight doesn't change, but the number is slightly smaller!

Technical bummer

It seems there is something in my office-- must be a virus! Both of my computers have fallen I'll in the past week and now They need the help of a Genius! I don't use these machines nearly as much as I did when I was my normal, pre-pregatron self, but I do like to think that I will eventually go back to a few hours day of computing and corresponding and research and everything else. For now, I am happy to have my lifeline iPad to keep me connected. I'm still a little slow on the keyboard, but a slow post is better than no post, right?

Mac appointment tomorrow. To be continued...

A $20 Crib... Score!

No, it's not for Miss Pattie, she simply provides a scale. We have a ton of time to get baby things but for some reason it has been a regular question, "Do you have a crib yet?" YET? I still have 12 weeks to go. That's an eternity! However, now I can say, "YES." End of conversation! All done. Yay! I found it on Craigslist yesterday for only $20! And it was partially assembled, so that was a little added bonus. I managed to get it all together in under an hour and now all I need is a mattress. I don't even picture the little nugget in this until late autumn but at least I'm prepared (sorta).

Vuvuzela Rockwell

Back on the hunt for a baby name. It's really helpful to watch World Cup soccer because there are some truly exciting names: Kaka! Landon! Markus! Tevez! My favorite (by far) was a suggestion a friend made: Vuvu Rockwell! As in vuvuzela, the horn everyone loves to hate! Perhaps not.
We're getting closer to having to actually get serious about this baby naming thing. I am accepting suggestions!
Please, no vuvuzelas.

Good News!

No Gestational Diabetes!
Cupcake time!

Glucose Testing = Gross

I can't say I remember the last time I had a full can of orange soda, but today I drank something like it. It was for a glucose tolerance test for gestational diabetes. Unlike the other types of diabetes, it goes away after pregnancy, but it can wreak general havoc and cause huge monster babies! I do have a few of the symptoms of GD, namely being tired, having blurred vision, nausea and vomiting. However, I believe these are all simple side effects of being pregnant in general, not something more. I can explain everything! I am up at 6:30 and don't always nap, so I'm tired. My vision is blurry because I'm lazy and don't always wear my glasses. I've been nauseous since the end of January. Vomiting comes with the territory, so... I think I'll be ok.

My blood pressure is normal and I have a penchant for cake at breakfast and I have fancied Hansen's natural sodas lately. I still want to try a float made of Hansen's vanilla cola and ice cream, but I haven't managed to feel well enough at night (it's now night sickness) to make one. If it turns out that I have gestational diabetes, I will have to go on a strict no-cake diet, and this will probably cause a problem. I'm already working out a lot (and I have the golden tan to prove I am literally OUT) so it's not like I've become a pregnant potato. I actually find myself sitting less and less, and that's not good for my sore little tootsies.

I'm still in the Cinderella category when it comes to shoes-- early Cinderella, in her peasant stage. Not that I'm barefoot (and pregnant!) all the time, but I haven't found the right combination of cute, durable, no-laces and cushioning I want. REI's summer gear sale starts on Friday so I'll be checking out their options. Otherwise, I might be getting myself a pair of cute(r) Crocs and forgetting about my quest. The pair I have are pretty good for gardening and make my feet feel ok but I still get plenty of dirt, sharp grasses and pebbles stuck between my toes.

Back to the orange soda-like mixture: I will find out tomorrow afternoon about my glucose levels. I think I might be able to squeeze in one last nibble of cake for breakfast before I get any news. If all is normal, I think I might just celebrate by getting myself a cupcake.

Little Visitor, Big Problems

A friend brought her son over yesterday. He's 4. Things were going well at first, but as the afternoon went by I started to have serious parent regrets. Will my child be as stubborn and uncooperative? Really, I wasn't prepared for what unfolded; he was pouty, fussy, touched everything in sight, played with all of the above and asked, "Why?" every time I asked him not to do something. AAAAHHHHH!
What am I getting myself into? I understand that parents have a lot to do with how a child behaves, but what if this baby causes as much angst (or more) once it is born? I never really thought about that until I was visited by the terror child yesterday-- and he probably wasn't as bad as I thought he was. Oh no!

UNO, dos, Trace

I have recently gotten some very nice snail mail from various folks (you know who you are) and the other day I received a letter from a pal who suggested I/we name the baby Trace. Remember, we don't know the baby's gender so we are thinking about options for both right now, even if Clint's grandma thinks it is a boy.
Anyway, my friend said she thought Trace Rockwell sounds tough like a cowboy and rugged but also funky enough to be a surfer or artist. I would say that these things are all true, but the first thing that came to my mind was one of the Palins. Isn't Trace the eldest of the Palin children? I casually mentioned the name to Clint one night after dinner and he said, "tres?" Pointing to himself and then me, he said, "like uno, dos, tres?" and burst out laughing. It was truly an entertaining parent-to-be moment and no, I don't think Trace or Tres will be on the baby name short list.... But keep the ideas coming!

Truckin'

If it is in their budget, I would think that many first-time parents get a new car when expecting a baby. I think I recall my brother doing this for my nephew before he was born. Of course, it was a Volvo-- something with a good family reputation that screams safety and sippy cups. I now have a vehicle with a reputation for towing capacity instead of safety ratings (but it still has seat belts and air bags, don't worry, mom). Tonight I traded in my hybrid suv for a crew cab F-150. It has a purring engine and 4-wheel drive, gets horrible mileage (though I have seen and driven worse), and it probably won't fit in the garage. How about that for a family vehicle? I can haul and tow and still seat 5 people!
It's the right height for a baby seat in the back because it is so high off the ground, and since the cab is all there is to the car part, I won't spend days looking for stuff like my wallet. I hope this is the beginning of a beautiful truck-ship. Now time to think about a name for the new wheels...

Photo to come, it was too dark to take one when I got home!

Football Madness!

This weekend my "shadowboxer" (Clint's term) is trading in the gloves for some boots. A nice kit, some sunscreen, and a size 1 (if such a thing exists) soccer ball. Maybe hackey-sack size is more like it. That's right! It's World Cup time and lucky for me, most of the jerseys I have (Ireland, Italy, LA Galaxy, U.S.) still fit enough to wear. They're snug and in a few weeks they probably won't, but by then all of my teams will probably be eliminated. By the quarterfinals I'll need to get myself a large Dutch jersey... or maybe Spain, Brazil or Argentina. I like the blue and white stripes with the sun, very classy.

Tomorrow as the U.S. faces Britain I will hopefully make it home from my mountain mama interview to watch the game -- or at least fall asleep watching it!

Mountain Mamas II

Aha! The Mountain Mamas found some merit in my application and I may be on my way to being a mountain mama model! I have a meeting on Saturday morning to meet the CEO and talk about climbing, hiking, biking and kayak gear for moms-to-be. I really hope they've designed a sporty bathing suit because I'm practically drowning in the one I got from Old Navy. It's a drag suit x200. Definitely not made for moving. No chickens are being counted, but I hope this works out well! To be continued!

S/He, It

It's becoming more of a problem that Trouble/Nugget/Baby's gender is unknown. We know it's one or the other (phew!) but I have insisted that I don't want to know, and I am still glad I don't. But this does make for strange references to the little person. I don't feel comfortable saying "he" or "she" because I could be wrong and I don't want the poor thing to have any kind of womb-gender identity crisis. We generally stick to "the nugget" or "baby" around here these days.

I think it's super odd to hear people refer to their unborn child by the name they've chosen for it. I salute those parents for knowing exactly what they're going to do, but I still like the mystery of not knowing-- or telling. In our case, I think it's good for us. We're both going to be happy no matter what, and it's nice to keep guessing. So far the only people who think it's a girl are under the age of 5. My little next door neighbor comes over to play on our swing set and the other day she asked me, "When are you going to have your little girl?" Ha! That was great! I think she's looking for a playmate. I explained that I don't know if I'll have a girl but even if it's a boy she can still play with boys. She seemed ok with that but was more interested in having a fairy princess party pal (still a possibility with a boy, of course).

There are places that can tell you if you have a girl or a boy after something like 6 weeks (this is truly ridiculous-- 34 weeks to plan for either/or?), and there are home kits and other things that can predict (they tout their accuracy) the gender. I wonder why it's necessary. There was a time when Clint needed to know. I think he still wants to know, but this is one thing I get to decide! I think it's good to NOT know unless medically necessary or unless there's a pending divorce or other serious consequence (I will sell/destroy your _____ if you don't let me know the gender!)... Our grandmothers didn't know what they were having, my mom didn't know about me, why do I need to know anything more than that baby is normal and has all of its necessary parts? I'm still a little worried it has mitten paws, but I'm hoping those will become fingers by September. Until then, I will continue to struggle with what grammatical person I should be using.

Rattle(snake)

DATELINE: Monday.

LOCATION: My house, Topanga.

I'd like to think of myself as a modern pioneer woman up here in the Santa Monica Mountains. Naturally, that means I spend time outdoors and sometimes my belly and I even do yard work. This afternoon I got more excitement than I had gambled for.

I had just moved a sprinkler in preparation for the arrival of the orchard that will be delivered tomorrow (about 15 trees, no planting til Wednesday but the soil has to be ready) and I was headed back to the garage when I saw a tail move and something slither under the stairs. And then I heard the rattle. And I think I said, "Oh shit."

After calling for Pattie, I asked where the perro was and she had (luckily) already made her way to the front of the driveway. After not remembering the word for snake in Spanish (serpiente would be too easy, no?) I told the workers there was a SNAKE and made what I thought would be the universal sign for snake with my arm. Then I tried to sound rattle-like when they asked me what kind and how big. Since I had only seen the tail, I did what any outdoorswoman would; I gestured like I had caught a 2-foot long fish.

I secured the pup inside and called Clint to share the news. I looked around the office for my Topanga Survival Guide, which has instructions for just about any emergency, including rattlesnake encounters. I found the guide but before I could get the number for the fire department Armando the jack-of-every-trade offered to kill it, so I wasn't gonna turn him down. I think I asked him if he wanted some long pants. Or rather, I asked if he thought we should change into long pants. He sorta laughed and then I realized how silly it sounded. But I was still about to go change.... Gimme a break, I'm pregnant. I guess I'm also new to the perils of the outdoors after moving from Beverly Hills and I think about safety a lot more. I thought the guy could use a barrier between his legs and the venom under my stairs.

He and his helper dude made their way around the house and gathered their arsenal: shovels and sticks and a flashlight. Since I knew the thing had gone under the stairs, I figured it was still there but it was dark so it was a little tough to see. Armando eventually saw it but couldn't reach it so we used a hose to get it to move so that he could pin it down. Naturally, it got it super agitated. The rattle was sustained and gave me chills!

Next, the body was pinned but it was still moving and was probably pretty upset. We needed a little guillotine action but the angle wasn't right for the shovel we had so I had to hunt around for the long, narrow, skinny shovel instead. I handed it off and stepped back as the guys talked rapidly in Spanish. I understood what I needed to: cabeza!

They were triumphant and the snake was dead and we took a look at it (maybe it had just eaten? it was fat in the middle). They wanted to know what I wanted to do with it. Rather than deal with the snake a second time because the dog found it in the bushes, I opted to put it in the "yard waste" trash can. It was the only way I could guarantee she wouldn't find it and start playing with it (she hasn't done this with anything else but there is always a first time, right?).... So there's a snake in my yard can and a mouse (we're up to 4) in my trash can.

I wonder what I can catch that I can put in the recycling for a trifecta?

Yay for the Mountain Mermaid!

We recently moved to canyon country and I am still getting to know my neighbors. Today we were invited to check out a 1930s old saloon/gay bar that is now fully renovated and serves as a location for weddings and photo shoots. It is totally amazing and awesome and reminded me of Hearst Castle. The best part: it's a mile from my house and has a pool! And I can go whenever I want to float around!! It has a nice dark blue look to it rather than that community pool feel. I have a feeling it's going to be my summer salvation! weeeeeee

Summer Pregnancy Pros and Cons

It's nice and warm today and the sun has been out all day. I would go to the pool if I felt like it but I'm pretty drained from dog walking, trash can lugging, plant watering, grocery shopping and a lousy attempt at clothing organization.

On my way home from the market (food store!) I got to thinking about summer. By the end of it, I'll be closer to normal (maybe) and then I will have missed summer. It's officially just around the corner and it already feels like it here in SoCal. My weekends are drastically different than they used to be-- no bike ride, no beach trips (so far), no travel, no races, nada. This is fine. I am actually ok with a change of pace and not having anything on the agenda since I'm still not feeling like I'm in tip-top condition to participate in many of my old activities.

However, as I got to thinking of changes, my mind wandered to the rest of June, July, and ultimately, August. I've heard how miserable it can be to be a pregatron in the summertime, but I have always thought it couldn't be so bad... until today. So, here I share with you my pros and cons of summer pregnancy.

Pro: Summertime means there are plenty of fresh veggies and fruit and other farmstand treats.

Con: I live in a temperate, industrialized nation, in the great state of California, where I can get fresh fruit and veggies any time of year.

Score: Tie.

Pro: Summer means you don't have to bundle up and wear a lot of clothing, especially wooly coats that don't necessarily fit over the belly.

Con: Again, this wouldn't ever be a big issue. It's always about 70 degrees here. Give or take 10.

Score: Still a Tie.

on the flip side...

Pro: Summer means you CAN wear little(ish) tank tops and breezy cotton dresses or skirts.

Con: It's hard to find a bathing suit that fits in all the right places and will still fit in another two weeks.

Score: Deadlock. Still.

Pro: Summer is meant for grilling and eating.

Con: I have a fairly limited tolerance for food of any kind (still), so this isn't very exciting.

Score: 1/2 a point for the Cons.

Pro: Summer naturally promotes being outdoors.

Con: It can get really hot. And sticky. And I get dehydrated. Last weekend I sweat through my trousers and we were only out for about an hour. I needed to turn on the a/c!

Score: another 1/2 point for the Cons.

Pro: Longer days mean people can visit and hang out outside.

Con: Visitors who hang out outside tend to need something to drink. Something alcoholic. Thus far, this is a party I'm not invited to and I look silly sniffing open bottles of Corona, but that's what I've got right now.

Score: A full point to the Cons.

Pro: Summer means vacation!

Con: I can't go anywhere in a plane without feeling yucky. This is a personal issue, but I still see it as a con. And another point for the Con team.

Pro: Having a due date in September means that once school rolls around again, it's almost babytime!

Con: NONE. Score one for the Pros. Heck, score two in the Pro column. It means each day is a day closer to the end!!

The score is a little uneven right now so I'm not thinking this is going to be an easy three plus months. I guess there isn't much I can do. I will plan on floating in the ocean for the entire month of August. There's a pro-- the ocean! Just 15 minutes away. Ok, maybe that evens the score a bit.