Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Simply Having A Wondeful Christmastime

Last week I had a very exciting moment: I won something! From a blog! For the first time ever! And to make it even more special it was something for baby bean: Belly Buds. Just in case you haven't heard of these (I mean, get with it), they are like little headphones that attach onto my belly and allow the babe to hear awesome music. We can even listen to the same music at the same time! Pretty sweet, huh?! Also, it came from a wonderful lady in SF who is expecting her little lady any day now. So that was awesome.

Since we're uber sentimental and all, the first song we played for bean was our wedding song: Today by Joshua Radin. It's a good one. And if I knew how to link to it, I would. But I don't. And since our bestests were in town for the "event," babe was also forced (just kidding!) to listen to several WSP songs. All in all, a good playlist I'd have to say. The whole thing was quite special and surprisingly emotional.

Anyway, I am so super duper stoked to go home for Christmas tomorrow! Yippee! I haven't been home to my parents house for Christmas for the past two years and I hope that doesn't have to happen again. Sadcakes. This whole holiday sharing thing gets confusing, but let's just get pumped for this year, okay!

I wish you all a joyful, merry-filled, and hopeful holiday season!

Monday, December 21, 2009

Baby Mamas

Just in time for Christmas, our house is ALMOST done being poked and cut and painted and prodded. Almost. 9 months later, we officially have no more roof leaks! It's a Christmas miracle. I hope the weekly mental/emotional breakdowns can take a hiatus for a while. I think Fiji was getting a little worn out from it all. There's still more work to be done and little things here and there that need to be fixed up, but we can use every room in our house and even walk around barefoot (if it weren't freezing cold, that is) if we so choose. WHEW.

Yesterday was a big productive Sunday that started off with my prenatal yoga class (followed immediately by church, errands, cookie-baking, present-wrapping, baby-room-organizing, etc.). I'm not exactly sure what maternal instincts are kicking in, but I have had this intensely strong desire to cultivate a community lately. A community of like-minded folks in the parents-to-be category. I never realized that it would be such a challenge.

I go to several different prenatal exercise/yoga classes each week and have continued to be disappointed and/or frustrated by the coldness and competitiveness I find there. It's not at all a group of glowing and supportive pregnant ladies encouraging one another. It's like a big old judgment stew of ladies with rotund bellies. Not even any smiles! I just don' get it. I'm sure a big part of it is the yuppie/competitive neighborhood we live in, but I SO wish it didn't have to be this way. It makes me sad. These classes could offer so much more. I've heard great things about other yoga studios that focus mainly on pre/post-natal stuff, but I already pay to go to my gym and the classes are included and, oh yeah, it's like 3 blocks away. I would think that of any time in your life to open yourself up and share your experience with others, pregnancy would be the time. Even for occasionally (FINE, most of the time) anti-social me. But apparently NOT. Guess they never got the memo.

When I got home Sunday morning, discouraged instead of rejuvenated by my yoga sesh, I explained (aka complained) to Fiji about all this and asked him if he thought I was also setting off the closed-off, cold, uninterested vibe. He (correctly) answered No. But he did encourage me to start making the "first move." Scary! So that's my goal for next time--say hi. Too bad it'll be NEXT YEAR! Ah well. TwentyTen is going to be an awesomely incredible life-altering year.

In other news, 4 days until Christmas!! And Baby, it really IS cold outside.

p.s. Bean is the size of a bag of flour. WHAT.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Butternut

We had our 29 week appointment last night and all is well. Babe's heartbeat is right around 140 and I'm measuring right on time too. Go bean. I also had my gestational diabetes test which meant that I had to fast all afternoon and then drink a rather large bottle of peach nectar (for the high-sucrose content) 45 minutes prior to my meeting and then get my blood drawn. It was my "lucky" day as there was a midwife-in-training in our meeting and she got to PRACTICE drawing blood. On ME. For her FIRST time. Isn't that nice? She declined the opportunity at first (which I fully and openly supported since she looked SCARED), but apparently I have "perfect veins"--lucky for her I always said no to all those intravenous drug offers, huh--and me and my perfect veins (I just had to mention that again) were too good to pass up. All in all, pretty painless. Then Fiji got to feel the baby's BRAIN. Well, technically the head. FINE. So that was pretty awesome.

This week the babe is the size of a butternut squash which I find to be totally and completely adorable. It's so cute it hurts. The brain development is picking up and BILLIONS of neurons are being produced in the brain, so I really have to get on my fish-eating. We want a smart babe, you know!? We also finally signed up for our birthing classes that start next month. Nothing like leaving all the learning for the end. We're winging it! (Just kidding, I've read like a million books. Don't even worry about it.) I'm really looking forward to this chance to meet other parents-to-be slash bean's-best-friends-to-be. (Sidenote: I talked to a preg lady at the gym, breaking my long-lasting gym muteness. Yay me.)

In other non-related news, our house is like THISCLOSE to being returned to a functional state of living. After a full week of eating, sleeping, and hanging out in one measily area of the house (i.e. our bed. literally. just the bed.), we can now move back into the rest of the house and start putting the pieces of our lives back together. I think this calls for a collective cheer of some sort...Or, maybe just a round of a applause. (No golf claps either--really get into it!) Ready? GO!

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Gentle Words

For some reason I decided to venture into the office today after weeks of working-at-home status and it just happens to be the coldest day of the not-yet-even-winter-season. 20 below wind chill, as the radio announcer reported this morning. But to be honest, it felt good to ride the train and read my "gentle birth, gentle mothering" book as the middle-aged man seated across from me looked quizzically at the title. Part of me fully understands the curiosity--I am a curious being after all--while the other part of me would like to tell him to flip off and "MYOB*" (which I like to teasingly declare to the Feej when he asks innocent-yet inquisitive-questions about my day). There is just something about being a part of this anonymous city community that I simultaneously desire and despise. Not my only dichotomous personality trait.

When I went to fill my water at the office water cooler, I found it dry. Nothing much has changed around here. Although loading the new jug was certainly more of a challenge for this 7-month-pregster-mcgee.


I feel quiet and contemplative today and listening to this one song (Freelance Whales, Generator^First Floor) on repeat makes me want to write and write and write. Letters to friends whose addresses have long been lost, cards to new friends just to say hi from across town, notes to baby where the most-used word is sure to be amazed, messages to my lovely family that I don't get to see nearly as much as I'd like, and post-its to my forever love.


*Mind Your Own Business. Clearly.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Cauliflower Head


27 weeks, 2 pounds, 14 1/2 inches, and about the size of a head of cauliflower. (Which, unfortunately for me--and now you--reminded me immediately of the unsightly wrestler's cauliflower ear. Hope the bean doesn't go the wrestling route...I just can't get behind that sport.) Doesn't that seem, um, quite LARGE to anyone else? Eeesh. Cauliflower might be one of my least favorite vegetables, alongside the ever-despised brussel sprouts and the not-really-a-vegetable yet ever-trendy mushrooms. Try as I might, I just can't get on board the mushroom train. SORRY.

This morning I slept all the way until 4am--yay me. WTF. I got out of bed around 5 this time and again went with the age-old (slash 2-day old) remedy of watching a romantic comedy OnDemand and PRESTO! back to sleep in no time. I was planning to read, but I just couldn't bring myself to turn on the lights. It was just TOO early. I even ate my bowl of cereal in the dark. Not the smartest idea since I already spill things on myself and everywhere else when all the lights are on and it's bright and sunny. It's just my gift.

I also promised the baby I would start singing to it, which probably isn't the best idea given my "kickass" singing voice. That's why I listen to bands and am not IN one. Then I promised I would start playing my guitar again. If I can find it. Not sure what's up with me and all the promise-making, but I refuse to begin this relationship already breaking promises, so I best be getting to it.

Oh, and also--baby hiccups are like THE cutest thing ever. I DIE.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Prenatal YogaBitch

I had a great yoga session today. And yes, despite my title, I'm being completely serious. As we were practicing our breathing at the end (I forget what it's called, Manyasa?), I really started envisioning my labor and breathing like the ocean (is this getting too deep?) and letting the breath sorta flow in and out of me and even my breathing started sounding like the waves crashing. (That may or may not have been because my ear was crushed up against my arm, kinda like a seashell.) And whoa, I just reread what I have written so far and I'm scared. Of myself. Anyway, it was nice.

BUT then! Then! At the end of class we were briefly talking about our due dates and such and the other lady in my class is due on Christmas and was complaining about her daughter's potential birthday and her friends not being around for her party, and how she's probably going to hate it. And I was all (high from all that oxygen), "but maybe she'll love it and I'm sure it will be special no matter what." Which, whatever, sometimes I just should opt to NOT talk. But still. I was just trying to be KIND and POSITIVE. And then basically she goes, "Well, the month of March (which we had JUST discussed is when MY child is due) is like the WORST month around here." I just stood there somewhat stunned at her comment as she walked out of the studio. Um, uncalled for much?! WTF. I'm not getting upset about it or anything* because, let's be honest, March in Chicago isn't like the best weather or anything. But the odds are somewhat stacked against us here when winter lasts about 8 months or so. Good thing we don't plan to live in Chicago forever. BUT. Even if we did, SHUT YOUR FACE LADY.

*unless wanting to punch someone in the neck counts as "getting upset about it," because in that case...maybe just a smidge.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Thanksgiving Recap: Just for the Record

This year we had a quiet and quite lovely Thanksgiving, just the two of us. I'm sure that will probably be the last time we can say that for many, many years. We brined and roasted our turkey, made stuffing, and I randomly (and at the last minute) decided to make macaroni & cheese with broccoli from scratch (and in the process I also made my first roux because I am unknowingly awesome). While dinner was delicious, we did manage to kinda screw up each dish in it's own, unique slash minor way. We're just keepin' it real over here, folks. The (underspiced) mac'n'cheese took wayyyyyy longer than I expected, therefore the turkey sat out and got a little dry, and then I had to go and overspice the stuffing. So all that happened. However, we're still eating the leftovers (in fact, I just ate them for lunch) and I swear they're way better now than ever. Thanksgiving WIN! The best part about our Thanksgiving meal was the hash that the hub made the morning after. And then the morning after that. Now THAT was delish.

Here, take a looksee:

(Please note the best part of the meal: the sparkling cider in my champagne glass. I die. And yes, I drank the whole bottle. BOOZEHOUND. Also note the crackling fire. Please do not note the blanket covering up half our room...we are living in a construction zone. DEWAI.)

(Also of note: my over-medium egg--it was jubilantly enjoyed even though I'm not supposed to be eating OM eggs anymore. FINE.)

This past weekend was also the first time that I felt SUPER uncomfortable and politely asked the Feej to maybe just take the baby out--just for a minute!. He did not oblige. I just wanted a little breather. No biggie. I'm also back on the insomnia kick. Sucktown USA. I woke up at 3am on Tuesday morning (if you can even CALL that morning) and just couldn't get back to sleep. I mean, I was WIDE AWAKE. I tossed and turned, which is actually more like carefully and slowly pushing myself to roll from one side to the other while grunting (like the lady that I am). It's hard to turn! And to toss! Very time-consuming. Anyway, I woke up and couldn't for the life of me fall back asleep and finally got up and out of bed around 4:30am and tried to occupy myself. In the process I woke Fiji up (accidentally), so at least he could somewhat keep me company although he was working and I was lying on the couch searching for an OnDemand movie. Basically the same thing. Geez this story is getting off track. Basically sleeping is hard. The end. Bye.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Grateful

I woke up this morning feeling sentimental and grateful for so much and so many. My list includes the usual suspects: my understanding husband, my generous family, my supportive friends, my good health, and the love and joy that surround me. But this year it also includes the precious blessing growing inside of me. It still amazes me, each and every day, that I get to experience this delight and wonder. I am so incredibly thankful for so many things, but especially for God's grace.

Many years ago, my Mom gave me a tiny frame that I plan to share with my children someday. It reads, "You are among the precious gifts that God has given to me." It has always found a home in my bedroom wherever I was living throughout the years and now sits atop my dresser. I glance at it at least once a day and the emotion it continues to evoke in me each time I read those words is that of peace and thanksgiving. And that is what I wish for each of you on this day and every day to come.

p.s. The bean is the size of an "English hothouse cucumber." So there's also that.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

99 days!

It's double-digit time people! Insane in the membrane (insane in the brain). So yeah, that's happening. I honestly can't quite believe it. And I'm really, REALLY trying not to freak out too much about it and the fact that there are like a million gazillion things left to do on my mental to-do list. I mean, for starters, our house is still a disaster-zone chock full of strangers in and out all day and loud banging noises on the roof constantly. I try to be positive and be all, "Well this means that actual work is getting done." But that lasts all of 2.2 seconds and I'm back to wanting to slap them silly. But not violently or anything. SILLily.

The babe is almost 26 weeks (will be on Thanksgiving--talk about thankful!) and I haven't even peeked to see what fascinating fruit or vegetable it will be this week. So you'll just have to wait along with me. DEAL WITH IT. I'm really looking like a pregnant lady these days and it's all maternity clothes from here on out. I ordered a bunch online--which could be risky--but seems to have worked out just fine so far. I haven't yet had the (unpleasant) experience of strangers feeling my belly--thank GOD. I am not sure how I'll handle that, but I'll be sure to report back.

After staying in a hotel for several nights I was again reminded how ornery I really am. For instance, we'd be riding the elevator down in the morning to get our free continental breakfast and of course other people would also need to be getting into the elevator to go eat their breakfasts (the NERVE!) and I would practically take it personally. They'd be all chipper and chatty and I'd grimace as if they were pulling out my toenails. Fiji took one for the team and was the friendly passenger while I stared at the carpet on the walls (literally--carpet walls). Once we'd sit down with our raisin bran and yogurt, I'd wonder, "Why do I hate people so much!?" This poor child.

So anyway, enough about me and my issues. Let's talk about how the baby moves around a TON all day long and how much I love it! I do think we've got a shy little one because most of the time when Fiji goes to feel the kicks and punches and swishes, it stops. What a little sneaker.

I'm pretty sure that the second trimester is up kinda soon, which means I'm heading into the third trimester (just in case you weren't able to follow that progression). So that's exciting. Also, frightening. How did this happen?

In other extraordinary and exciting news, one of my best friends just had her little baby girl, Lola. I'm smitten. She is just so incredibly precious and I'm already ridiculously in love with her. As in, Addicted with a capital A. If I'm this in love with someone else's child, I can only imagine what will happen when it's my own. Mine. (Well, and Fiji's. FINE.)

Thursday, November 19, 2009

A Staycation of Sorts

So, I'm back from the lovely land of Florida and I'm pretty sure Chicago and I are in a fight. Poor cold, dreary, wet Chicago. She just doesn't have much of a chance in this love triangle.

And now the hub and I (and the beaner, of course) are having a "staycation" of sorts. And by staycation I mean forced evacuation from our home. Either way, I'm trying to be positive about it and such. Which, if you hadn't noticed, I'm not particularly skilled at regarding this home renovation situation. But I'm trying. Anyway, I'm currently sitting in our hotel room downtown and housekeeping just left. Why is it so awkward when someone else is cleaning up "your" room? I had to resist the urge to get up and help. I was like, do you want me to leave? And she's all, no. So then I just got out of the way as much as possible while she made my bed and stuff. (Wow, this is a great story so far, no?)

I can literally (LI.TER.A.LLY) see the hub's office (and desk!) from my perch. It's very cool. This morning after he left for the office, I watched him (from 12 stories up) walk to work, which was nice. And quite domestic of me (uh, from our hotel room). Then he got into his office and turned on the light and I immediately IM'ed him, I CAN SEE YOU. Creepy much? We waved (well, I waved...probably for longer than necessary) and then I let him get back to work. Then we met for lunch after my workout and swim. I really REALLY wanted to get in the jacuzzi (FINE, I got it up to my knees), but a big sign was taunting me saying no pregnant ladies allowed.

We had our 25 week appointment with the midwife last night and baby's heart rate is right around 140-150. When I first heard the heartbeat I laughed outloud--it's just still so thrilling!--and it went up to about 160bpm, which she noted was good variability. So yay bean. I'm measuring just about on track as well. AND she said I have a nice bump--heyo! The beaner kicks so much and I just love it too much. When I'm riding the train alone I have to remind myself that strangers don't care that there is a person moving around inside of me, so I just smile (as not-crazily/creepily* as possible) to myself and keep my mouth shut.The bean is 25 weeks along today and the size of a RUTABAGA! How fun is that?! If we could get up in there and take a picture we might be able to tell what color the hair is! Also, I took this silly little online quiz and Madame Zaritska informed me that:

The day you deliver, outside will be foggy. Your baby will arrive in the late morning. After a labor lasting approximately 14 hours, your child, a boy (TOLD YA), will be born. Your baby will weigh about 5 pounds, 15 ounces, and will be 18 1/2 inches long. This child will have dark brown eyes and a lot of brown hair.

Now, before you go all crazy on my ass, I realize this is all for fun and I'm not actually depending on this internet lady to predict my labor experience and child's sex, but honestly, I'm pretty stoked! I mean, one of the questions was "do you like broccoli?" So clearly exceedingly scientific.

I realize that I haven't really gotten into much about the choices we are making for the labor and delivery, but as we approach the "3 months to go" marker, I feel like I should. I want to. I want to document these decisions and the reasons behind them so that I can share and so that we can remember this amazing time in our lives when we started truly thinking of someone else--someone precious--rather than just ourselves.

*these are real words--I LOOKED IT UP.

Monday, November 16, 2009

The Bean and The Beach

We've decided that the beaner loves the beach just as much as his parents do. (Sidenote: I just wrote "his" without even thinking about it AT ALL. Sign?) So, the beach in November is pretty much the coolest thing ever. What's not so cool is not applying sunscreen to your pale-ass-Chicago-self and ending up with ridiculous raccoon eyes and halter-strap chest marks. The sun was warm, but it's NOVEMBER! I just figured it'd be fine. Luckily, we've been to the beach two more times (in three days!) and it's all balanced out and I can proudly say I have what some may consider a slight to very slight tan. I mean, there are tan LINES. So there's that.

In addition to the awesomeness of the beach, we get to hang out with the bestests! All day! And night! And take bike rides! And see live music! And eat yummy foods! And wear sundresses--SO comfy! And read! And drink decaf! It's just been so great that it needed all those "!'s" The boys have been making dinner and even doing the dishes while us ladies just laze about and discuss weddings and babies. Because that's what ladies do when they are engaged and pregnant. And even when they're not. Because we're LADIES.

What's not been so great is the fact that Fiji had to leave today (I changed my flight to stay longer due to all the house disaster-ness that is going on--lucky me). But it's just not the same without him in our little group. I kept thinking that I was forgetting something, but realized it was just him that I was missing. (Cue: Awwwwww. Or Blech. Depending on your attitude and level of wanting to ruin my life.) While I'm thrilled beyond belief that I get to stay here in this sunshine state with my best friends and their adorably charming and NOT disaster-filled house, I miss my boy. Upon returning to the chaos, he found that the contractors are way behind in their initial predictions that all would be complete by tomorrow morning. SHOCKER. I want to punch them in the necks! Just get it done already! GEE WHIZ. Anyway, the feej will be staying in a hotel for a few nights...as will I upon my return to the cold and dreary land. Boo.

In other news, like, say, baby news...last week the babe became an ear of corn. And it can totally hear all that going on around it. It's also been kicking up a storm and Fiji has been able to feel it a bunch of times now--super fun. It seemed that as soon as I arrived in Florida my tummy just exploded. Random folks are now saying slightly inappropriate things about my belly so I think I've crossed some sort of pregnant-lady-threshold. Which is nice. One dude noted that I'd had too many beers lately. To which I responded, "Not enough, actually!" It makes me happy to have this preg belly (6 months later!), despite how much I may complain about being "fat" to the hub. I mean, it's just so crazy looking sometimes.

I must apologize in advance for the jealousy that is about to commence in your soul upon viewing these images. If you saw my house, you would understand that I have to hold onto whatever it is that makes me smile. And right now, it is this:

And this:


And these peeps:


And what is INSIDE this:p.s. I may not ever come back...except to collect hub and maybe a few more outfits.
p.p.s. It was more than hilarious trying to squeeze the "ladies" into my suit. I mean, WOWZA.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Mango!

Today the babe is the size of a mango. How fun!! MANGO! I love mangoes. I really do. But I especially love this little mango.

Big news of the week is that the lung development is kicking it up a notch. Also, the pancreas is growing. (I may or may not have just googled "pancreas function" to find out what that thing really does. Answer: lots of stuff.) The babe is also still hovering around 11-12 inches, and hovering above one pound. Sooooo, not much different than last week. But still. BIG.

Reading various "mommy" blogs or "mommy-to-be" blogs has become my new past-time. It's real wild and crazy over here these days folks. Nonstop rager. The reading of these blogs is simultaneously overwhelming, exciting, frustrating, and encouraging. This whole pregnancy thing is a globally-shared experience, while also being so unique. (This is getting pretty prophetic, watch out.) It helps to be reminded that other women go through these same emotions, these same fears, these same body critiques, these same kicking sensations, these same joyful connections, the same disbelief about growing another individual inside of you while you just go about your life. But, yet, each one of us experiences it in our own ways, in our own special and unique bodies, in our own families and relationships with our partners. But sometimes it's hard. And sometimes you cry yourself to sleep at night because your baby's future bedroom is STILL missing walls and ceilings. And sometimes you just don't feel like getting out of bed. And sometimes you worry. And sometimes you might even throw yourself a little pity party.

But that's when I force myself to remember: we are creating life. CREATING LIFE.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

The Sweet Tooth

While I like to believe that I am a healthy-eater (pre-preg and currently), I tend to have what some may describe as "self-control issues" that range from serious to quite serious, especially when it comes to sweets since I've become pregnant. For instance, last night after our random (yet reasonably healthy) dinner of leftover chili, plantains, and a pear, I waited a standard amount of time (~45 minutes) before requesting my "treat." Fiji retrieved the leftover brownies from the previous night's dinner at a friend's house. There were 4 brownies left. Now, granted, a couple were what I would consider to be "small." I would draw the approximate size for you, but I suck at drawing. (And painting and watercolor, if you wanted to know.) ANYWAY. I had one. And then shortly after I had another. But that was where I drew the line. Two for me, two for the boy. That's fair. FINE, mine were the bigger ones. But he doesn't care. Honest (right, babe?).

After we finished watching the DVR'ed (yes, we're still in love) episode of Mad Men, my eyes started to wander back to those remaining two brownies. Was I hungry? Not really. But the desire to eat them was growing and they were just sitting there taunting me. Fiji wasn't making any indication that he was going to eat his share and I was so distracted by those little chocolate chip goodies that I could literally feel my will-power shrinking by the minute. When Fiji got up to fill his water, I took that as my chance and just WENT AFTER IT. My main goal was to get the brownie down without Fiji noticing, which was clearly my first mistake. (Or, well, my second. My first was probably eating the brownie in the first place. MOVING ON.) I basically stuffed that thing in my mouth without even enjoying it! GAH. And of course, OF COURSE, Fiji turns around probably when he hears the commotion and plastic bag rustling, just to see what I've gotten myself into. I am such a child. I immediately stop chewing and do a little closed-mouth smile at my kind husband as if to say, "Nothing to see over here. Avert your pretty little gaze!" He, of course, instantly knows something is up. And pretty much instantly knows WHAT exactly it is that is up. I'm eating his brownie. He's calling me out before he even gets back to the couch, "Didn't think I would notice?!" I'm laughing so hard with a mouthful of brownie that I can barely contain it. The brownie, that is. I want to keep all of that deliciousness in my mouth, after all. I am forced to bow my head and turn away, ashamed.

And then I had a stomach ache (AND complained about it!) for the rest of the night.

Lesson learned: two brownies is more than enough.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Deuce-Deuce

22 weeks and I'm jusssssssst about to pop. I'm pretty sure this time. I think.

This week the beaner babe is the size of a spaghetti squash and weighs just about 1 lb. ONE POUND. The update informed me that it now looks like a "miniature newborn," which is pretty much what I have been imagining this whole time. My genius is confirmed!

By far, my biggest craving this entire pregnancy has been apples. I like them a lot. A LOT A LOT. And last night Fiji and I watched this PBS program called, "The Botany of Desire" and they focused on four different plants of desire: apples, tulips, cannabis, and potatoes. Pretty random, but I like all of those things! But apples are the coolest. It was really interesting learning about the history of apples (no really, it was) and how they've been planted across the country (thanks Johnny Appleseed!) and learned to adapt to various environments. Also, did you know that if you were to plant an apple seed of an apple that you really like (hint hint: HONEY CRISP), the tree that would grow from that seed would be something totally and completely unrelated to that seed's apple?! Me either! Basically by planting a seed you have no control over what is going to spring up. (This is sounding less interesting...) Anyway, they also talked a whole lot about hard apple cider and WOW do I want some of that. Give it to me! The other sections were interesting as well. And by interesting I mean I fell asleep. But I was really tired, so don't judge.

In other news, our house is in shambles. It's awesome! SLASH I DIE. We've been having roof issues for over 8 months and they have finally begun repairs (just in time for winter!) and here we sit with holes in our walls and ceilings and plastic draping all about. I've tried--and continue to try--to stay positive and hopeful and thankful that the work is even underway, but I'm not a huge fan of dust or dirt or disorganization and, well, that basically defines our home at the moment. Every day I get home and start the process of trying to put our life back together, with the full and complete awareness that it's all going to be taken apart again tomorrow. But, that's just what I need to do so that I can go on dwelling in the madness. A coping mechanism, if you will. So, as I sit and stare at the dust caked on the floor, I remind myself (and my kicking child) that we'll get through this. Together.

(Wow, that really took a turn there.)

To summarize, WAH. (Who's the baby now?)

Friday, October 23, 2009

Even More Awk

After reading the previous post, Fiji was shocked that I didn't share what he thought was the most awkward (and entertaining...to HIM) aspect of my ultrasound antics. I must've blacked out from the awkness. IDK. But upon being reminded, I decided I had to share. Lucky you!

So, as I'm lying on the "table"--I don't know what else to call that thing, deal with it--and the various baby body parts are being broadcast on the ginormous flat screen on the wall to my left, I'm getting pretty pumped as I realize that our baby is looking, well, normal. Better than normal, in fact--pretty flipping adorable! It's a FACT. So, of course I have to narrate the entire event. OBVS.

Me: That's a pretty good looking head!! Right??
Ultrasound Tech: Slow nod, slow nod.
Me: Ooooh! That's a good looking heart!! And strong, right??
UST: Yes, looks good.
Me: Awww, there's the head!! That's a good looking baby, huh?!
UST: Actually that's the stomach.
Me: Oh, well. Yeah, yeah. I see it now. (No, no I don't.)
Awktown.
Me: Well, that's a good looking stomach! Don't you think?
UST [in an overtly direct tone, I might add]: Yup. (I think she was pretty much over me at this point. Or like, 5 minutes ago. Probably ever since the pants-less situation actually.)

I tried to stop talking but I just couldn't. I wanted to know what was happening! But she was just moving so fast. And using unrecognizable terms and such. However, I do know that the babe's got a 4 chamber heart, two kidneys, a liver, 10 fingers, 10 toes, two arms, two legs, no cleft palate, a strong umbilical cord connection, a nose, two eyes, a mouth, and a bunch of other to-be-expected body parts. WIN!

We debated about whether or not to get the ultrasound--even up to the point where we were in the waiting room AT the ultrasound place. Was it really necessary? Did we really need it? And to be honest, I still don't know. But what I do know is that it made my heart practically burst to be able to see what is going on inside my womb at this very moment. (For some reason it is very hard for me to say womb. Not hard as in, I can't pronounce it or anything. Hard as in, I feel like some homebirth-having-natural-childbirth-hippie or something. And then I remember, oh I AM one of those!) And while I wasn't worried that baby was going to have 2 heads or anything, it was still so thrilling to see that there is a real-live-healthy-baby-child in there just growing and moving and moving and growing and poking and dancing and bouncing and growing. I love this child with my entire being. Like, it fills my whole BODY, not just my heart.

Okay, now you can all go on with your merry lives. But your lives are clearly better for knowing this part of the story. Don't lie, you know it's true. Maybe now is the time to do a round of back-patting. G'ahead. (I literally just did. It felt nice.)

Thursday, October 22, 2009

21 Weeks, Still Awkward

We've got one busy baby, I tell you what. Baby is all over the place in there! Probably doing important business such as raising it's arms, stretching it's legs, bending it's knees, poking around my innards, drinking amniotic fluids, etc. Stuff like that. We even got to see the action during the ultrasound--the tech could barely catch the parts she needed to with all the action going on. She seemed a bit ticked off about it too. Baby's already defying authority, so that's promising.

Our tech was totally down to business and not really up for my antics unfortunately. I was a little nervous slash excited when we arrived and as she brought us back to the dimly-lit room she instructed me to get undressed from the waist down. Or that's what I thought she said. So that's exactly what I did. (I debated about whether or not to take off my knee socks but decided it would be best--this wasn't some sort of "Pregnant Women Gone Wild" video after all.) SO. ANYWAY. There I am sitting on the "table" wearing a paper skirt, swinging my legs to and fro like the mature adult that I am and then I start to panic, "Wait, DID she tell me to get undressed? Did I make that up? I thought this whole thing was on the outside? Why would I need to be undressed?" So I asked Fiji, who was of no help whatsoever. THANKS. Well, this might be pretty awkward when she gets back! Long story short(er), she comes in and I'm all, "I was supposed to take off my pants, right? I'm SUPPOSED to be pants-less right now, right?" She looked confused and slightly frightened at first, but then slowly nodded her head in affirmation. THANKFULLY. But then of course I have that whole inability to shut my trap when I'm nervous and/or embarrassed thing and so I'm all, "Oh good. Because that would've been weird. I mean, I'm not wearing any pants! I just couldn't remember what you had said. And then...yeah. Sooooo, anyway. BABY!" So THAT happened.

Monday, October 19, 2009

It's a BABY!


Just in case there was any doubt or confusion.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

20 weeks: Halftime! (Without the break in action)

Today marks week 20. Wow. I mean, wow. 5 months down, 5 to go. Baby is now the size of a butternut squash (which I happened to eat twice this week in the form of a delicious homemade soup). Or possibly a banana. These two are quite different, if you ask me. But clearly no one did. Jerks.

In other exciting news, this baby is kicking like crazy! Crazy, I tell ya! It's the most incredible, surreal, shocking, and startling feeling I've ever experienced. I mean, I know I should probably get used to the whole concept, but let's just go over this again: There is a LIVING CREATURE growing inside of me at this very moment. RIGHT NOW. Isn't that ODD? It's obviously one of the most--if not THE most--natural processes imaginable, but still. It's wild and unbelievable and I just feel so incredibly blessed that I get to experience all of this. (You might want to remind me of this later...)

Also, the baby is starting to collect poop. So that's nice. The email update today told me that baby's already starting to produce what will be it's first bowel movement. That's a lot of holding it in there, don't you think? Um, 5 months? It also mentioned that sometimes the baby actually poops INSIDE my body during labor. Also, I might poop during labor. (SICK.) That's like a double-decker poop taco. Sounds lovely. (Hope you weren't eating lunch or dinner or anything. Especially not Taco Bell!)

In less-gross news, this is the first weekend we're home and partly without plans in what will end up being about 10 weeks. This means we get to organize (!) and clean closets (!) and NEST (!!) and do the stuff that keeps me awake at night making lists upon lists in my head. I'm embarrassingly excited about this. I pretty much love to tidy up (sometimes even in other people's homes, which can be awk), but I also have a serious and apparently incurable case of pack-rat-itis and a hard core sentimentality which equals a whole lot of seemingly (but NOT) useless stuff. I mean, how do you know I won't NEED that stationary collection someday soon? Or that fairy sticker book? Or that little pouch of rocks and glitter? Or the dried petals from the first bouquet Bradley ever gave to me. YOU DON'T. But what it boils down to is that I can't bear to lose the memories that seem to so easily slip away. And since my memory is worse than that of a dogs (whose memory refreshes each 20 minutes, in case you didn't know), I need those little tchotchkes, those little tokens, those little treasures from days long ago, from experiences and trips and moments that made me who I am today.

Oh, and we have a LABEL MAKER. And I plan to label the shit out of some stuff this weekend. Get PUMPED!

(Still waiting for the POP...but there's a babe in there, I SWEAR.)

Monday, October 12, 2009

It's ALIVE!

Well, not that I didn't know that already. What, with the heartbeat and the bulging tummy and such. But it was confirmed again and again today as I felt soft, yet indisputable, kicks! Baby kicks! It mostly felt like the babe was tapping (tap-tap-tapparoo) my insides saying, "helloooooooooooo out there!" To which I responded, "hi babyyyyyyy!" It was quite the in-depth conversation. But oh-so thrilling. SO.

I have been feeling similar sensations for a few weeks now, but not consistently enough to be able to confidently define said sensations as the babe. Gas, maybe. But now? Now I know. The little life growing inside of me is making himself known. And I like it. I like it A LOT.

If I was much of a squealer, that's what I'd be doing right this very moment. I'm so madly in love.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Nearing the End of the Teen Weeks

Check that out: baby yoga IN UTERO. Impressive!

Today I'm 19 weeks "along" on this amazing and simultaneously crazy pregnancy journey. I hesitate to share my most recent trials since it's not so lady-like. And I'm nothing if not a lady. Ah, what the hell. I'm gassy. And not in the normal gassy-gas way. Like, I light candles before Feej gets home and abruptly-leave-the-room-in-the-middle-of-a-GOOD-movie and am tempted to the open the door when it's cold and windy and rainy and am somewhat nervous to go on a plane kinda way. It's sad. And embarrassing. And kind of funny. Also, gross. I hear it only gets worse, so that's nice.

I'm trying to talk to the babe more and more because it can hear me, but mostly all I can think of to say is, "Hi baby! I love you!" But this morning in the shower we had a pretty deep (one-sided) conversation about how much I enjoy warm showers but don't like getting out and getting dressed. In fact, I may have used the words, "hate" and "despise" and "it's SO cold!" But maybe not. Only me and the babe will ever know. Take that! We (well, me) also made references to hating the NPR fund drive. "They claim it's SO SHORT but they lie! LYING LIARS." I hope I'm not corrupting this child. At least not yet, geeeeeeeez.

Not only is the babe's hearing developing, but also the other important senses ("His brain is designating specialized areas for smell, taste, hearing, vision, and touch"), which I find to be super duper awesome. In fact the babycenter update said that her senses are "exploding," which I find somewhat frightening. But I'm over it. And while I may have had a few sips of wine (and champagne, FINE) last week (it was our anniversary, Judgey McGee!), no mas for now. We want this baby to have all of it's senses and for them to be highly developed. Except, now that I think of it, is that why I'm a HSP (highly sensitive person)? My senses are too highly developed? Eh shit. Maybe I will booze it up instead.

In other news, it's my little brother's birthday today. When I was writing his card (slash gift) (just kidding!), I got all weepy thinking about him growing up. I mean, not that he's not already a grown-up. At 28, I sure hope so. In all reality, he's actually more of a grown-up than I am in various business-y ways. Except I'm married and pregnant and stuff. So, I'm a pretty big deal when it comes to the grown-up department. (I wonder how many more times I can write "grown-up?") Anyway, he's been a great little brother. He used to get me snacks whenever I asked. And relinquish control of the remote. And basically let me steal quarters from him for my candy addiction. (Actually, I'm not sure he's aware of that. But he was always the richest in the family! Since age 5. No joke. He was the first to get a CD player! And he was 10! And how many quarters does a 5-year-old really need?!) The weepiness started as I reflected on how charming and funny and smart he's turned out to be. (OMG, I'm tearing up again.) But seriously, I'm just proud to be his sister. And I'm especially excited to see him tomorrow! In his city. And for him to let me peek into his life. With his babes. And to remember how lucky I am to be his friend.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

La Premiere An

One year ago today, I married my most favorite person in the whole galaxy. Without a doubt, the best decision I've ever made. If this year was the hardest, I can't wait for forever.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

The Big Bulge

Well, at 18 weeks, it has finally happened. It being the "yuck" feeling, also known as "OMG. I'm FAT." While logically and rationally, I certainly understand what is happening and I'm somewhat "okay" with the fact that I'm gaining weight (because hello, baby growing in the belly), I AM still a woman living in this world. And in this world, gaining weight is bad and wrong and dreadful. And while technically I've actually lost a few pounds (no idea HOW), the clothes? They're getting tighter. And more uncomfortable. And holy hell get this OFF of me. Which is not fun. In fact, this morning I had such issues getting dressed that I just didn't go to work. "Sorry, can't come in today. I'm busy punching my clothes in the face-hole." Which, if they HAD faces, may have actually happened. Poor, innocent pants. I KILL YOU PANTS.

Anyway, it's a chipper first day of October day over here folks, if you couldn't tell. I do love October though. The crispness, the sweet-smelling air (minus the toxic bus fumes), the colors, the fires, the vests, the college football, the hot chocolate, the other fall-ish things that we all love. Oh, and fall TV. Do not forget fall TV. The feej and I recently acquired (well, purchased) DVR and wow, it's a life changer that little thing. No commercial-watching in this household. I'm probably just preaching to the choir over here though since most people I know got dvr (or tivo--dvr's ugly/bitchy stepmom) when it first came out like 5 years ago. We're slow. What do you want from me? Both Fiji and I were the last to get cell phones in our respective groups of friends as well. And now you should see us: iPhone ADDICTS 101.

Maybe we should talk about the baby now, huh? GEEZ. I hope you aren't all picturing me sitting on the couch watching Rachel Zoe whine while I stuff my face with cookies and hunks of cheese. I mean, you can if you really want, but that wouldn't be completely accurate. And I'm all about accuracy. So, just forget about it.

GAH! The BABE!

The babe is 18 weeks and the size of a bell(e) pepper. It can be a belle pepper boy or girl because it's beautiful either way (OKAY French-speakers?!). It's moving it's limbs all about and stuff, so hopefully I will start to feel the little sucker soon. I thought I kinda maybe felt a little something the other day, but who knows. I have been eating a lot of chili lately. People keep describing how it feels in different ways, so I'm just going to wait and see how it feels inside MY lopsided belly. But I really can't wait. There's a PERSON inside of me! I also can't wait until I have a normal looking pregnant belly as opposed to this enlarged and oblong papaya pouch. I'm all lumpy and weird. Not to be confused with an oopma loompa. I'm way too pale for that these days.

p.s. And yes, if you must know, this photo is totally and completely unrelated to the awkward and disjointed story above. BUT, this is Clementine. And I love her. And you should too. I mean, she has a RIBBON in her hair (well, wrapped around her head)! And a heart-shaped eye! I DIE.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Tourists in our own town

WHEWEE, what a weekend! I think we walked somewhere around 4 miles all around various parts of the city, so the bean babe (not to be confused with a beanie baby--seriously) is quite the trooper (aka, I'm quite the trooper since the babe is living INSIDE me at the moment). I'm just going to take this opportunity to pat myself on the back. I don't think we do enough of that these days, the patting ourselves on the back. It's nice. You should try it. DO IT.

So anyway, the in-laws were in town and wanted to "see the sights," so "see the sights" we did. Thankfully it was the pretty much the most perfect weather weekend ever, especially seeing that today we've got cloudy skies, temps of 55, and 50 mph winds. Brief synopsis: Michigan football game at neighborhood rowdy bar (GO BLUE!) where someone got a little carried away with the cowbell (more cowbell!), Navy Pier, water taxi, Chicago River, Michigan Avenue, Hancock Tower, Signature Room, gorgeous sunset--see below, Lake Michigan (as opposed to that "other" Chicago lake?), Lincoln Park, Lincoln Park Zoo (lions, penguins, monkeys!, giraffes, alpacas, etc.), childrens and lots of them (yup, we have them here--big tourist attraction), Orchid House, the highly elusive Lincoln Park yuppies, Belmont trannies, Trader Joes, Bears football, Ann Sathers cinnamon rolls, and in conclusion, homemade deep dish pizza. And when I said brief, I guess I should've said extensive. Soooooo, that happened.

I'm now recovering. For the next 3-5 days.


Lately, each evening around 5 or 6pm I get all antsy and my muscles feel tight and all scrunched up, if that makes sense. Whenever this starts to happen, I become even more of the squirmy worm that I am and can barely sit still. I beg the Feej, "PULL ME!" In regular people speak, this means I want him to pull on my arms and legs--preferably simultaneously, which is basically impossible so I settle for lying on the couch and him pulling my legs and then pulling my arms. I cannot even begin to tell you how good this feels. Well, I can try: It feels really, REALLY good. Like, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Whenever he stops I am basically like, "MORE MORE MORE!" Or rather, "MAS! MAS! MAS!" (We're practicing Spanish--or rather Espanol.) I've also taken to stretching in random places around the house, like holding onto the back of the couch to stretch my lower back, or up against the kitchen wall, or in the shower, or in the elevator (which could lead to potentially awktown situations, but it's worth the risk). I've also noticed how OMG similar I am to my Mom. Like, frighteningly. (p.s. I love you, Mom.) I remember being in the grocery store with her when I was about 15 and just about dying (in my head slash in my totally raging social life) as she started to bend over, leaning her hands on the checkout conveyor belt to "stretch." I'm starting to understand the allure.

Next topic! I haven't "popped" yet. But I am on the verge, I swear. It's much "poochier" after dinner, which is kinda fun/kinda weird/kinda what the hell is happening. When Fiji got home from work tonight, he reached for my belly so I lifted up my shirt and as we gazed/fondled/poked and prodded at the pouch I realized it was LOPSIDED. "That must be the head," he exclaimed. I mean, WHOA.

Friday, September 25, 2009

The Turnip


As you may have guessed, the babe is the size of a turnip this week. I have no ridiculous jokes for you seeing that I can't honestly say that I've ever actually had a turnip. And, since we're being ridiculously honest here, I can't say that I'd want one. What I do know is that it's a root. So there you go.

In other news, I had my first official visit with the midwife we've chosen. Her name is Hillary and we're totally becoming best friends. And by best friends I mean when she sat next to meet (as in on the SAME love seat) at the appointment to go over some paperwork, I didn't want to die. Also, I didn't want to punch her in the face. BONUS! This is pretty big for me and my personal space issues. I just like the way she does things, like she actually EXPLAINS what is happening and why and stuff like that. I know, I know. You'd think that doctors and other birth professionals would do that as well and you would be wrong. Well, at least in my experience-- if you're going to be all politically correct about it. And let's be honest (since that's the precedent I had to go and set today), I'm not always (slash possibly ever) going to be political correct. Because this here is MY space. Where I talk about MY experience. Not the "normal" or "average" experience. Mine. So, if you don't like it (7 readers), then you can get lost. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. Honest. You probably have an iPhone or GPS anyway, so really, no harm no foul.

I also got to hear the babe's heartbeat again and holy hell I die. It is the most amazingly wonderful thing--to hear our little beaner's heart just pumping away, growing stronger and healthier and more robust each and every day. I just sat there (well, lay there) smiling a big goofy grin like the love-sick fool I am. We are so in love, this kid and I. Fiji's a little nervous actually. Sometimes when he gets home from work and kisses me hello and neglects to say hello to my tum, I'm all, "UM..." and he's all, "uuuuuhhhhhh?" and then I'm all, "uh, your CHILD!" and he's all, "OH! Hi BABY!" And I'm all, "PHEW. You just narrowly escaped what could've been an awkward and potentially dangerous scene." I think he's slightly to intensely afraid of me. But he's learning. I think we'll keep him.

p.s. The babe is growing bones and moving elbows!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Guac Attack

Hola! Today the babe is an avocado, so in honor of it's Spanish heritage we're having free brats at our gym's annual Octoberfest (um, in September). We're so traditional!

Today is also the start of week 16. 4 months, a.k.a. 1 month from "half-time." I've been starting to read some baby blogs (shocking, I know) and it appears that my fellow mama-to-be's are much more organized with their postings and they don't just bitch and moan about going pee at all hours of the night. They actually talk about the baby's development and shit like that. So get ready to be geeked out on fetal stuff, alright?!

Week 16 babe:
-4 1/2 inches long (head to rump) and 3 1/2 ounces (I just chugged 3 1/2 ounces of water. EASY!)
-eyes are moving closer to the front of the head (no more fishy-ness)
-toenails are growing (which reminds me, I need to cut my own...)
-patterning of scalp (scalp is a weird, weird word) has begun, but "locks" aren't recognizable (I could add something here but I won't. I am SO nice.)
-heart is now pumping about 25 quarts of blood each day (um, that's a LOT. No wonder why I get lightheaded so easily--s/he's stealing all my BLOOD.)
-eyebrows, lashes, and hair (called lanugo) are filling in--Awww, eyelashes!
-tiny bones forming in ears so babe can now pick up my voice (good thing I already put my cursing on lock-down(ish) OR NOT. But I've been trying, alright)--also, this means we can start making sure this babe has good musical taste from the get-go. No Raffi for this baby!

And for your visual pleasure (or something), try imagining this sucker in my uterus. Or don't. Actually, no, please don't. I don't know why I said that. I'm sorry. Bye.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Apple Baby

We made our very first baby-related purchase, and it was a big one: the crib. It's still sitting disassembled in the den (slash nursery-to-be) but it's fun to go sneak-a-peek (also known as stare at it in disbelief.) We have a crib. A CRIB. That a baby will be sleeping in. A BABY. A baby that according to the Chinese Lunar Calendar is a girl. But who the flip cares. It's a real, live baby child. Plus, despite widely held beliefs, the Asians don't know EVERYTHING. In fact, I've now had two dreams about a shaggy-haired darling little boy. (Which, come to think of it, could've possibly been a girl. What, with the hair and all...)

In other news, I'm 15 weeks today. Someone tried to confuse me by saying I'm 15 weeks along, but the baby is only 13 weeks old. I told them to GET BENT. I have no need for that nonsense. All I know is that there is a baby the size of an apple in there (preferably a pink lady...in fact, I just ate one. Uh, again with the weirdness...) and it loves me so much it likes to sit on my bladder all night. And I love it too, despite the bladder thing. That's exactly what I told the apple baby this morning: "I love you apple baby, even though sometimes the steady, slow trickle in the middle of the night makes me want to sleep on the bathroom floor so I don't have to walk as far to take care of the non-business that I think I need to take care of, but really I don't because you're just camped out like a little camper on my not-even-full-bladder. But then I just go back to sleep and get to dream of you and it's like nothing ever happened and we're totally bestests again and balance is restored to the universe. So yeah, kisses!"

So, we leave for Portland today. Portland, Oregon, for those of you who for some unknown reason think that we would be going to Portland, Maine. I mean, who really goes to Portland, Maine? (Besides my uncle, who lives there, and maybe some other people. Yes, I know. It's a nice place. Been there.) Anyway, tomorrow we're going on a bike tour of the city--exciting! The other people wanted to go on a Vineyard Bike Tour and I was all, "Um, no thanks." COME ON people. Do our lives have to revolve around booze or WHAT?! I mean, yes, FINE, I wanted to go on that like 4 months ago before I knew about the baby apple. Also, it still sounds fun and pretty and nice and all. But I'm much more mature now. MUCH. Very, very much. Ask the Feej. He'll tell you all about it.

While in Portland we are also going to Eugene (yes! hippies!) for the Purdue vs. Oregon football game. I am even wearing Purdue colors. (Although I secretly wanted to pack my GO BLUE shirt for fun. But then I remembered how this one time I wrote a list about all the things that annoy me--there were a LOT--and one of them was when people at sporting events wear team shirts that support neither of the teams that are actually playing. GAH. The nerve! So I didn't.) Anyway, my point (ish) is that the game starts at 7:15 PST, which is 9:15 CST, which is also known as BED TIME in the TillyFeej household. And I'm not even kidding. Even pre-pregs. Sad, very sad, but true. So anyway, do some math, add in the hour drive (in a party bus--SOBER), plus the time it takes to actually play the game, and basically you come out with a very tired, very cranky, probably hungry (it's a safe bet), possibly passed-out pregnant lady wearing a Michigan t-shirt for no reason. Sounds fun, huh?!

Friday, September 4, 2009

Panic & The Bean

This week the bean proved it's total and unabashed rock stardom. With our bestest's in tow, we attended two shows in two nights on Northerly Island (which used to be a airport! on an island!). Take a look at the view of our city at sunset from our terribly impressive seats:


Yeah. We're awesome. The first night the Allman Brothers opened up for Widespread Panic and once the sun went down the crazies took to dancing in the aisles...among other things. AHEM. In fact, it was probably the most lenient security scene I have ever witnessed in my entire show-going life. And that's a lotta lotta shows people. Old hippies and less-old hippies unite. Anyway, it was super super fun and I proved to all the world (um, that were seated next to and/or up to a few rows behind me) that I can totally still dance my face off while stone-cold sober. Maybe not that shocking. But still, a nice reminder that I STILL GOT IT.

The only part that I could've done without (and when I say "done without" I mean "HATED") was the fact that everyone and their neighbor happened to be chain-smokers (except for my people, DUH). They also seemed to enjoy blowing smoke directly into pregnant lady's faces (or so it seemed). I die. And then I kill you. It's pretty crazy (a.k.a. hypocritical) how Sears-(NEVER to be called Willis)-tower-esque-high on my anti-smoking horse I sit these days. Ahh, pregnancy.

I mentally bonded with the other pregsters there, despite the fact that I don't technically LOOK pregnant yet (to the naked eye), but trust me, there is a lemon-sized baby in there. FOR REAL. I might even post a picture. Maybe. Maybe not. But just don't expect me to call it Bump Watch 2k9. OR DO. Whatever. I should also note that I've adopted this new technique of living called "being flexible." Also known as, "trying not to be such a cranky pants mcgee all the time." It's an experiment. And we're on Day 2. So, please keep your expectations low and your encouragement to a minimum. I don't like to feel pressured to be cheerful. KTHANKSBYE.

Monday, August 31, 2009

i gotta gO(PP)

Yeah, you know me.

I know, I know. That was bad. Sometimes I can't even stop myself from myself. It's weird, but it's my life. But seriously (srsly). This peeing thing? Wow. Sometimes it truly amazes me. I'm amazed. By far, the farthest of the far, the most annoying part is that it takes me a while to get situated in bed. There's a lot of squirming around, a lot of tossing back and forth, a lot of fluffing of pillows, a lot of squishing of dog tails (not real dogs, FINE), along with a lot of maybe complaining about my toes being cold (approximately 2 seconds before they're too hot and I'm forced to thrust them out from underneath the blanket and out into the fresh air). So that happens. And then just (JUST) as I get all comfy cozy ready to doze (I resisted dozy--you're welcome), the urge sets in. You know, THE one. I know that nothing good will come if I delay, and the longer I wait, the less sleep I will be getting, so I force myself up and out of bed. I mosey on over to take care of the biz. And there I sit. And...nothing. Nada. Nothing is happening. The feej sometimes tries to help me out by turning the faucet to a slow trickle (water waster!) (and yes, sometimes I go pee while he is in the room--DEWAI (Don't Even Worry About It)). Doesn't help much. Anyway, finally a little bit leaks out. (I'm just now realizing how TMI this really is. SORRY.) And I'm back to my bed in a flash getting situated once again. Then I'm juuuuuuuust about to enter the sleepzone when BAM. The urge strikes again. You have GOT to be kidding me I think (slash say outloud). And repeat. AND REPEAT. AND REPEAT! My current nightly average (BEFORE I fall asleep) is 4.6 times. Not counting the 2 am and 4 am visits. I am not kidding. But honestly, possibly the strangest (and most frustrating) part of all, is the wee amount of wee. I mean, it could SO be consolidated into one trip. IT REALLY COULD. But no, no, no. I mean, I'm starting to understand why mom's say "tinkle" because that really is what it is. FOR REAL.

So, yeah. The peeing. Good times.

p.s. I saw the Jackson stop performers again (you care!) and I was even so bold as to (slyly slash stalkerly) take a quick pic (you are so excited!), so here you go (you LOVE)! You're welcome. And, if you couldn't tell from the picture (WEAK), they are dancing to "Papa was a Rolling Stone." Classic.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Strong Beats

On Monday we heard the baby's heartbeat. HEART. BEAT. I still find it hard to comprehend the fact that there are two hearts beating inside of me. Take a moment and consider that for me, why dontcha. So, yeah...Amazing. Mine sounded all slow and trippy while baby's was fast and strong. We met with a new midwife this time (the one who delivered Mr. G, the son of one of my bff's) and she rocked. She's pregnant herself and that just makes me trust her even more. She even said I could continue to workout as much as I want and as hard as I want and instead of restricting what I do, I just need to listen to my body. I can do that.

I'm back and forth debating whether or not I've started showing. But I think it's just what they call being "bloated." Which is nice. It may or may not have something to do with the fact that the feej hasn't been making me smoothies for the past few days (hint hint HUB) and instead I've been eating a bowl and a half of (generic) frosted mini wheats for breakfast. I'm in love. But I'm guessing I should get back on the healthy morning option instead.

The neighbor twins have started saying "baby" all the time--completely without my influence--and I find myself loving the sound of that little word like I never imagined. Baby baby baby. Yup, we're having a baby.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Life gives you limes...make (virgin) margaritas!

So, today is the day I can "officially" tell peeps that I'm pregnant. 12 weeks. Technically, the second tri (I'm really into brevity. And nicknames), doesn't start until week 13, but let's just get after this, shall we? I honestly could not imagine waiting that long to actually tell my closest friends and family (and some strangers. DEWAI). I mean, how do people do that??! Clearly I haven't changed my facebook status to inform all my super tight FB friends (and frenemies) yet, but I haven't had a FB status update since Obama was elected. So you can make assumptions about the probability of that on your own. I'm sure you've got lots of free to make some pie charts and bar graphs. Let me know how that plays out.

So yeah. 12 weeks. The bean is a lime! Virgin margaritas anyone?? Speaking of margaritas (kinda), last night my Daddo was in town to see Rob Bell (the pastor at their church and an author with whom he works) speak (perform?) at the Congress Theatre. The actual talk was great despite the boxes of stinky soap (I am a self-diagnosed highly sensitive person (HSP) slash my mom told me I was. Plus, I'm pregnant (not sure if I mentioned that) and my highly sensitive nose is even more highly sensitive. Which is nice) at the ends of the aisle that were then passed around. And apparently we were supposed to sculpt something. Or something. Anyway, the label said: "Not edible! If ingested, contact emergency poison control services immediately." Um, okay? That sounds safe to PASS AROUND to a large group of people. No, really. It was great. What was NOT so great was the fact that they had just recently torn out all the regular seats for the regular people and instead replaced them with super comfy FOLDING CHAIRS. Where we sat for like 2 hours or so. Plus, they decided to turn off the AC because I'm not sure if you're aware, but it's not hot in Chicago in August. AT ALL. We don't need no stinking AC. We were practically baking in there. I mean, the talk was about suffering and all, but COME ON people. Help some christians OUT. Oh yeah, the margarita connection--they were serving alcohol! I mean, not that I had any. But other non-pregs people did! Beer and cocktails at a CHURCH event! So that was cool.

In other news, limey and I are off to class in a few. Jealous? I hoping they all clap again. We're such rock stars! Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Gender Wars

Lately I've been struggling a bit with the whole boy/girl issue. Of course, without a doubt, absolutely, what we want the mostest of the most is a healthy baby. DUH. We already adore the child madly and it's less than 1 1/2 inches long (FIG!). However, basically since we found out about the little bean, I've imagined a little baby boy. A little man to join our little family who will someday be able to defend and protect his little sissy and scare away the bullies. We already have a name pretty much settled on and I've taken to talking to the little guy (in my head) (also, aloud...FINE) and calling him by his not-yet-given name. Also, I may or may not have started coming up with cutesy nicknames and writing his name in the air. WHAT OF IT.

I also might add that several friends and family members have shared that they too think it's a boy (only after I've politely demanded to know their guess immediately). But then a good friend had to go and say he thought it was a girl (and he has an alarmingly accurate intuition...if there is such a thing). And then (THEN!), my parents both had to go and admit that they TOO thought it was a little girl. In fact, my dad's honest to goodness real true words were, "my princess is going to have a little princess!" And he was the one who--just as my head (and not my lady bits) started to appear and ONLY my face was showing-- said "my little princess!" So there's THAT. Come on people! Get with the baby boy program! GAH.

Anyway, the guilt. The guilt is overpowering. Will I be DISAPPOINTED with a baby girl? Hells no! But kinda. Just kidding maybe baby girl!! You're the coolest!

I hesitate to hit publish on this one. Just in case, you know, in 10-15 years little bean is cruising on the ultra-compact, probably hologramed internet and she's all, OMFG, MOM, you suck at life. Except, I'm sure they'll have moved on from Paris Hilton-speak by then. Um, I HOPE.

p.s. Beaner, I love you with every bone and membrane and organ and hair follicle I've got. No matter who you turn out to be. (As long as you love to GO BLUE!) (Just kidding!) (As long as you despise the buckeyes, we are ALL GOOD.) (NOT kidding!)

Friday, August 7, 2009

KUMQUAT!

Week 10 has arrived and the bean is the size of a kumquat. Kumquats are the coolest! It could totally kick that quarter's ass. FINE. I'm so enjoying the fruits/veggies/nuts used to describe the size of the fetus. It's fun.

I'm starting to feel less and less nauseous (WIN), although the tiredness and fatigue has not yet started to subside (FAIL). As in, I could probably close my office door and take a nice nappy right this very moment on my desk. Also, the sweet cravings have definitely arrived. Not that I didn't enjoy sweet treats before, but now they seem much more of a necessity and less of a special indulgence. And of course Fiji won't let me have any CHEMICALS or anything. I think he spent 20 minutes reading the ingredients of various soyscreams before settling on the world's most boring sweet treat ever (EVER): vanilla bean. (No offense vanilla bean, but you just aren't cutting it without any special chocolate sauce on top.) I mean, it was made of coconut milk, which is delicious. But I requested anything with chocolate. And, I'm not sure if you are aware, but there is absolutely NO chocolate in vanilla. None. I know it's for my own (and kumquat's) good, but still. Throw me a bone every once in a while, ALRIGHT.

I shared the news with my professor yesterday before class and she then basically forced me to tell the rest of the group. Nice. When she was wrapping up class she said (while looking directly at me), "Does anyone else have any NEWS to share???!!" I was starting to look around at my classmates and shake my head, somehow missing the blatant cue. And then she winked. Which somehow put me over the edge, so I complied. And then the class CLAPPED...which was fun. So that happened.

As I waited for the train to head home, I was entertained by a trio of young boys lip-syncing and dancing to classic Michael Jackson on their old-school boombox. Classic. They appeared to be brothers (the youngest even sporting a faux-hawk and chuck taylors) who must practice a lot and apparently choreograph their own sweet moves. I saw them a couple of weeks ago dressed in white button-downs and slacks groovin' to Mo-town. I was more impressed with their Thriller performance. Um, why am I talking about this? IDK. I guess because it made me smile (I even clapped! Outloud!) it got me excited to share and experience the ever-present creative Chicago energy with this little babe.

p.s. Could I BE anymore BORING today or WHAT?!

Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Everlasting Hangover

Lately, when people have asked how I'm feeling (which has now entered into the top 3 of most posed questions), I hold an inner debate about how I should respond--glowy and positive or harsh and blunt? Usually these debates are short-lived, as I tend to just blurt out whatever comes to mind. Per ush. And the most typical (and honest) response I can provide is, "I feel hungover." Which, due to the fact that I haven't had a drink in over 4 weeks, is odd. And pretty much sucks. And, to be honest, a total and complete rip-off. I mean, come ON! All of the yuck and none of the fun?! That's weak. I mean, BABY, what are you doing down there??

No, but for reals. I love being pregnant. I giggle out loud each time I remember that there is a precious darling little babe growing inside me that Fiji and I created together. The whole thing is pretty flipping amazing. Feej has taken to burrowing his head into my belly and talking to the beaner, which is alternately endearing and annoying. I get hot and claustrophobic even faster than before--who knew that was even possible?! I hope the baby takes after his dad in those regards (and many, many others...particularly in the knowing of pretty much everything).

So, anyway. The bean is almost an inch in length this week and the size of a grape. It seems interesting that as each week progresses, the bean becomes the size of a type of food I've been eating and craving. Which makes me feel (even) weird(er) inside.


This past weekend the bean attended it's second wedding (in it's 9 weeks of existence). Both on the east coast, so there's that. This week the bean also experienced it's first Cubs game (we had to leave in the 5th inning due to a bad nacho experience. Then we lost). It was my first Cubs game sans Old Style. Which hurt a little. Also, sans hot dog. TRAGEDY. This weekend we're back on the road heading up to initiate the baby as an official Mullett Laker. And also announce the news to the great grandparents, who will hopefully remember my name. Just kidding! (But I do hope they remember I'm married (and no longer living in SIN) so it's OKAY to be pregs!)

xoxo

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The Bean on Screen

Today we got to see the Bean on the screen of the ultrasound machine (which was quite the old-school machine, I might add) (also, that totally rhymed! Yesss). Fiji had to point out the bean to the midwife. He's a genius. The midwife also had a mullett and spoke in an (bad) Irish accent at times. So that was fun.


At first she thought Bean was only 7 weeks--which may be cause for a concern--so she called in another ultrasound tech (who actually KNEW how to work the machine) and it turns out the Bean is right on track at exactly 8 weeks old. Go bean! ALSO. The nickname is apropos once again as the bean is the size of a kidney bean this week.

Feej and I spent several hours at the OBGYN while my lady bits got poked around and then they drew like 17 viles of blood. Which was nice. I also found out I have a retroverted uterus which led to the midwife saying ASS. Good times! We can't believe it's all really happening. It's all happening!*


*We'll watch Almost Famous one day Bean, okay?

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Blueberries and Bruises

Today, the bean is officially a blueberry. Yummo. (Was that weird?)
Yesterday, I fell (because I am an idiot slash major klutz) and got a serious bruiser below my knee. Ouch! I'm gimping around the house and trying to ice and rest it as much as possible. BOR-ING.

I also learned that beaner (or berry, now) is growing hands and feet! It's still so crazy to think that there's this little precious creature growing inside of me.

The Feej is down in Costa Rica starting to pick out lumber for our future home...exciting! Now I'm just anxiously awaiting the bestest's visit tomorrow! Yesssssssssssssssssssssssss.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Um, there's a baby in my belly

Dear Bean,

Hi! Today you are the size of a lentil bean. A lentil bean! That's teeny! You are 6 weeks and 1 day old. Last week you were the size of a sesame seed, so you're really moving on up. Good work!

Below are some pictures of your dad and me the day after we found out about you, which happened to be the 4th of July (fireworks!). And also my friend's wedding on Cape Cod (unused open bar!). I spent the day and night pretending to drink. Your father, on the other hand, did not.













KBYE! Er, not really because you and me are like totally in this TOGETHER and stuff! We adore you already.

xoxo