Just when you thought you knew everything about me...

1. Driving to my parents' on Sunday, Darren asked me a hundred billion questions about my opinions on the Mayan calendar and our impending doom.

I didn't really have any, but I developed some theories on the spot.  It was an interesting conversation.

His final statement was this:

"Well, don't you think that if the world is going to end on December 21st that you really ought to let me play the new Xbox on the 20th? Christmas will be too late..."

Clever boy.  Wish I could say I saw that coming, but I didn't.

Merry Christmas, err'body, just in case it doesn't come this year.

2. (In no way do I think that the world is ending on the 21st)

3. I got the flu vaccine yesterday.  The injection site is sore.  

4. The last real shot I got also left my arm sore, except it also swelled up to the size of a massive golf ball on my arm, so really, "sore" is an understatement.  Incidentally, I remembered yesterday that it has been 10 years since I received a tetanus booster. 

5. If you have any research and/or lectures as to why the flu vaccine is the absolute worst thing we can do to our bodies, put a sock in it.  It can't be undone, and I made an informed decision. So booooyahhhh.

6. I have a gnarly razor blade stretch mark design growing around my belly button.  It's actually kind of cool, which I'm thinking is a major tender mercy.

7. What is the proper way to refer to TUMS in the singular? I had one left yesterday, and I texted Darren asking that he bring me my last remaining "TUM", and debated forever on whether that looked dumb. I honestly don't care, but it did make me laugh.

8. He wasn't able to stop at home before coming to the office, so when he showed up carrying a brand spankin' new bottle of TUMS, my heart skipped a beat.  I had already resigned myself to a TUMSless existence.  He's so sweet.  

And yes, I kissed him.  Just in time for one of our she-patients and the doctor to be coming out of the adjusting room.  The she-patient called us out on PDA.  However, she was very understanding when I waved the bottle in front of her face.  Mostly, she just laughed, but I take it to mean she understood.

9. I signed up for childbirth education classes at the hospital where I'll be delivering!  Julie is going to be coming with me...I couldn't be more pumped.  I don't know why, but I feel like that is about the coolest thing we could do together.....and I'm pretty sure that makes me psycho.  However, I think having her there will make it easier for me to be less bored and not have to feel guilty because Darren is so bored.  Because when Darren is bored, nary a soul in the room DOESN'T know it.  Julie and I are more mature than that ;-)

10. I had another OB appointment this week, wherein I learned that I have a slightly narrow pelvis.

I couldn't explain the emotion those words produced without using the word "defective". 

I was like, "Wait! How can this be?! I'm a HILTON! Hiltons have big babies, and I was bred to have big babies!"

(I don't know if my baby will be big, I just know I should be capable of delivering fatties).

Dr. L wasn't trying to alarm me, it was more of a keep-this-in-the-back-of-your-head fact share, so that I wouldn't be surprised down the road. 

I went home from the appointment and spent some time blog-stalking. While stalking Erin's blog, I noticed one of her three little icons that she has at the bottom of every post looked like Carolyn's birth story.  I thought, "What the hey, I'm having a kid...let's do this," so, I clicked on it. 

Lo, and behold, if the intro didn't speak to my heart. 

You should just read it yourself. 

Thanks, Erin! I remember reading that when it was first posted and finding it funny.

This time I found it hyyylarious because I now have a better way to describe how I felt.

I felt(/feel) like a heifer with bad pelvic measurements.

And there is still no way to accurately explain how that feels.

I guess you can use your imagination.  Or your memory.  Whichever applies to you, Blog Fan. 

DooDoo Charlie the Horse

The daddy of all charlie horses paid me a visit this morning.  It wasn't exactly a social call either.

I feel like he may have been hired to get rid of me, but decided it would be fun to torture me instead.

A Brief History:

• I've had many charlie horses in my younger life
• Mom, thankfully, taught me how to deal with them. Toes to the nose!
• I've been nipping them in the bud ever since, and as such, haven't had a full on leg cramp of any kind in several years

Now back to my story.

So there I was, laying in bed, dead to the world.

Not so dead that I didn't know I was turning over, but dead enough for it to not be a conscious decision to do so.

That is when DooDoo Charlie the Horse, as I have come to call him, struck, by plunging a jagged knife deep into my calf muscles.  I didn't even have time to respond! I tried so hard to flex my foot towards my face and relieve the pain, but his grip on my leg was too intense.  I couldn't move my foot for anything, and my fat belly got in the way of physically grabbing it.

I was trapped.

I gasped, wimpered, moaned, cried, held my hands over my mouth while trying to breath steady and keep from screeching (it was THAT bad), and finally screamed for Darren so he could move my foot for me (though not loud enough...he was up getting ready for work, and too far out of hearing. However, I didn't want to panic him and make him think I was having way too early labor pains or something, so I wasn't willing to holler any louder.)

After almost TWO MINUTES of pulsing pain that radiated to my entire lower leg, it finally began to relax.  When I felt like the timing was right, I started to bend my foot towards my face, chanting "Toes to the nose!" the whole time.

Darn it if DooDoo Charlie the Horse wasn't just waiting for Round Two.

Round Two was just as bad as Round One, though it only lasted about a minute this time. 

So then I thought, "At least I can get my leg off my support pillows.  It will feel more comfortable laying flat on the mattress."

Round Three.

Repeat effort to move leg off pillows.

Round Four.

After my leg relaxed from Four, I finally wrenched my body like a pretzel and just ripped the pillow out from under my leg and let it land on the mattress.

And there I lay, feeling like a washed up piece of seaweed (weird image, but I wasn't exactly feeling tip top mentally or physically).  I didn't move for several minutes and when I did was finally able to point my toes at my nose, but by then there was no use for it. The damage was done, and my calf muscles were done for.  Flexing my foot only made me more aware of how sore those muscles had become.

And naturally, that is when Darren finally came into the room to say goodbye before heading to work.

He said he thought he'd heard his name, but decided it was in his head.

Next time DooDoo Charlie the Horse tries to get me, I will be yelling much louder.

I don't care if it makes him think I'm in labor.

Somebody is getting a good Christmas

On Black Friday we went to Wal-Mart to purchase some fabric for Christmas stockings (is my timing bad, or is my timing bad? Why I HAD to go on Friday is beyond me).  Anyway, while I was perusing my options, my husband child was wandering around the sewing department, entertaining himself.  After being there for a few minutes he approached me from the end of an aisle with something in his hands and a pleading look on his face that said, "I don't know how to ask this in a way that will make you say "yes", but I reeeeally want to take this home with me".

It was a gaming system.  One that I don't care to name, lest I annoy myself further. He found it stashed in the sewing department (though I do not think I believe him...electronics is one aisle over. Hmmmm.)

He made his case. I said "no". He adjusted his plea. I said "no". He made a call or two.  I said "how?".

In the end, it worked out in his favor, and that infernal thing landed in our shopping cart.  The boy couldn't have looked more giddy.

In the meantime I was feeling physically terrible.  There are times during this pregnancy when it feels like my heart is racing and there simply isn't enough blood volume to keep up.  I was more than ready to go home, drink a gallon or two of water, and rest, so we proceeded to the cheerless associate who was standing ready to cut my fabric for me. 

While she did so, I heard Darren on the phone with his brother bragging about the outstanding Black Friday deal we had stumbled upon.  It was in that moment that my epiphane happened.

I turned to him and said, "You know this counts towards your Christmas presents from me, right? That thing is going under the Christmas tree, wrapped, until Christmas Day."

He quit speaking. His face fell. He hung up the phone. His eyes got big. He walked closer and begged, "No...you can't do that. That would kill me!"

The cheerless Wal-Mart associate smiled for the first time. "OH! Boy, she be so mean to you! How you do that to him and say he cain't play that till Christmas?? Your po' baby. Po' baby!"

I've never felt so triumphant in my life.

And that box looks so lovely under the tree.

Our Weekends

1. Last weekend we went to Galveston for the 237th Marine Corps Birthday Ball.

This is just a snapshot of pre-sunrise Saturday morning from our hotel balcony.  The lovely view made up for  my semi-disappointment in the hotel room itself.  It felt like we were in a motel, and my bed at home is more comfortable. Boo on that.

The ball itself was alright...the ceremony was boring (per the usual), but still super patriotic and pride-inducing. I'm still basically Lydia Bennet when it comes to being in a room full of crisp and sexay military uniforms.  I swoon on the inside a lot.

2. The first three days of this week were horrendously busy thanks to our weekend away and a super full schedule.  Monday was spent baking pies for two of my customers after work and helping Darren finish a paper he had due at midnight.  We went to bed very late.  Then, Tuesday night I had an Arbonne party after work that lasted a while (friends from church, and we chat a lot...).  When I got home poor Darren was already asleep, and I still had pies to make for delivery on Wednesday.  It was obscenely late by the time I got to bed.  After work on Wednesday.......................I did nothing but keep my fat hiney on the couch.  I felt like I'd earned the right to be as humanly lazy as possible.

In case you don't know, any amount of extended awakeness and/or baking for a pregnant heifer is torture.  By the time I'm halfway through the process (and feel like I've rolled a hundred billion pie crusts) I feel as though I've had a massive workout.  My sides hurt, my breathing is for sure heavy, my legs feel like they are the size of those long rolls of ground beef sold at the store, and I am holding onto the counter at almost all times for support (mostly psychological...it just makes me feel better).

Even though Monday, Tuesday, and most of Wednesday felt like a three week stretch (to me), I have to admit I loved how the time Darren and I actually got to spend together was nothing but quality.  We basically only saw each other when he left for work and right before bed.  And for about 15 minutes before that Arbonne party.  He is very supportive of my money making attempts, and showed that by having the kitchen clean and ready for pie baking when I came home from Arbonne.  I nearly cried. Nothing says, "I love you" quite like knowing you have a long night of pies ahead of you and not having to start by washing any dishes.

So even though I felt like we weren't getting to spend much time together (again, those 2.75 days felt like weeks), the little moments and services to each other felt like something I could carry with me.

Sigh.

Okay, enough of the sap.....moving on.

3. My birthday was Thursday! I am 24 now! I'm hoping that this is the age when people will stop saying, "Oh, you're so young!".  Every year I think I've reached that year, but I am not holding out tons of hope.

4. Birthday morning began with the sleeping gods mocking my inability to easily get up on normal days.  I had to force myself to sleep from 6 to 8.  Thankfully, Darren saved me with a tasty breakfast and some gifts.

5. We have our Christmas tree up! It isn't 100% decorated, but it has lights and candy canes, so it's mostly there.  I love the magic a lit Christmas tree brings to a room.  It is so cozy.

And then I became annoyed...

I know I've vented about this a lot to my family (and poor Darren has heard more than his fair share of it), but I've still got some venting left to do.

I am having a baby.

Presumably, the baby will be born at a healthy weight and size.

One way or another, it will exit my body.

My chosen method of delivery is the age old way of going into labor and squirting that puppy out, sans epidural.

"OMG, are you crazy?!"

"You are SO going to change your mind!"

"Hahahahahahahahahahaha you've never had a baby before, have you?"

To any and all naysayers, I have this to say: I can't heeeear yoooou.

A little support would be nice?

Now, I don't remember who all has ever said anything like this to me, so if you are reading this and think you are guilty, don't get all embarrassed and think that I hate you. Remember, I have pregnancy brain, and hold no personal ill-will because I can never remember who actually deserves it. So don't sweat it! =)

My grudge is against the you-can't-do-it mentality.

Reasons I feel like birthing without an epidural is the right choice for ME:

1. It feels the most natural and complication free. I have a lifetime of avoiding medicine at most costs, so that isn't new to me.  I tend to ride headaches out and always have. Typically medicine is employed when it begins to interfere with sleeping (sleep is sacred). Even then I take the lower dosages available.
2. Needles terrify me.  I don't care how many women have experienced an epidural and been just fine. I don't care how painless it is. I don't care how relieving it is. I refuse to cope with the idea of sitting still during labor, while a 20 ft long needle enters my spine with the object of deadening sensation, thereby removing my agency to move around or work with and through my labor pains. Thanks, but no thanks.
3. I want the satisfaction of knowing I beat seemingly impossible odds. My grandchildren will probably never refer to me as being a great risk taker, but when a challenge strikes me hard enough, you can't stop me.  That is why I trained and complete my first half-marathon.  It was something I just needed to do to prove something to myself. Not to world, but to myself. If I had wanted to prove much to the world I would have tried to win that race, but I was racing myself.  It is hard to describe.  The notion of delivering naturally has hit me that same way, so believe me, I will be ready.

Granted, I know that birth plans don't always play out as desired.  I understand that. However, I am shooting for the optimal experience for me. That way I know that I will have tried.

I liken it to a wedding vs a marriage.  One is the kick-off, and even if the day doesn't go exactly as planned, there is no reason to let that cast a gloom over the marriage. I know that delivering a baby is just a beautiful glimmer in the timeline of that baby's existence. 

No matter how it all goes down, I will be happy to hold a healthy baby girl in a few months.

p.u.m.p.k.i.n...p.i.e.

1. Do you know what Sunday is? MY 28 WEEKS MARK. I feel like that is a milestone and should be celebrated somehow.  Only 12 weeks left...give or take.

2. I spent over 3 hours start to finish last night on a pie operation. One pie for my coworker (massage trade), one pie for to share with other coworkers and a few businesses nearby in the strip, one little square one to bring to my boss and her husband later since they won't be at work today, and one for Darren and I to scarf down.  That is what one full pie crust recipe and 6 cups of pure pumpkin puree gave to me.

The one to share with people is so that potential customers can taste the goods.  I want to sell pies for the holidays! And guess what! I already received two orders.

The price is 1 pie for $8 or 2 pies for $14.  I haven't figured out the cost of custom made crusts yet (didn't occur to me until yesterday) (and by "I haven't figured out" I mean "I haven't talked to Darren about it and let him figure it out").

The only option of pie to purchase is scrumptious pumpkin. They are 10 inches.

My pies are awesome because they are homemade and don't include any overly processed products (excluding the shortening used in the crust).

In short, they are amazing! Let me know if you want any for your Thanksgiving or Christmas dinners =)

3. This is what I found of the pumpkin we never got around to carving this year (and what supplied me with so much pumpkin goop with which to cook:

4. We have a crib! I love seeing it set up in our bedroom. Thanks so much to Susan for handing it down to us!

5. This bird was guarding my parking space at work a few days ago.  Either that or she was saving it for someone and I stole it. 

In any case, she didn't move.  Just stared.

6. Guess what is coming in precisely one day short of two weeks...............

my birthday!

and Thanksgiving!

All on the same day. How about that. =)