Returning Home

As you know if you read Chris' blog, we are home after a very brief labor, delivery, and hospital stay. Marcus is doing well and we are all trying to adjust to our new situation.

I'm having a wee bit of pain, but it's nothing major. A lot of stomach ache and cramping, much of which is probably secondary to my uterus trying to return to a normal size. Marcus is fairly low maintenance, honestly. He sleeps a lot more and a lot better than Athena did in her first few days.

I'm a bit disoriented though. You really don't know how much your home life is routine until you leave it for a few days, then try to return to it with a new person in tow. Even if the new person were old enough to just sort of be instructed on how to work his way into your routine, it would be challenging, but now I don't even know what the routine is any more. I feel a bit like a newborn myself!

With a second baby, I'm finding we aren't nearly as prepared as we were with Athena. At least not physically prepared. Sure, we have all the stuff we need, but much of it is still in closets or scattered around. We spent an hour today looking for two poles for the bassinet that I know for a fact Athena was playing with in the last week. I looked everywhere for them, including places they couldn't possibly even fit and I couldn't find them. Chris ended up getting a couple of dowels at the hardware store.

Oh... I hear my mother is here. I should run. I'll post more when our new routines allow it! (And thanks for all the well-wishes).

Waiting Sucks

Okay, I'm still posting. And I'm getting mildly irritated about that. I know that I'm not due until Tuesday, but people, I have no guts left. Literally. This kid takes up my whole abdomen. It's time for him to be his own abdomen, you know?

After such a crappy day yesterday, I woke up this morning feeling like I could climb Mt. Everest. And I NEVER feel like I can climb Mt. Everest. So Chris went off to work (he had been working from home, but since nothing seems to be happening, he decided it best to go in) and my mother-in-law and I ran a bajillion errands. The highlight was getting my car cleaned (inside and out) at the Scruffy Duck Car Wash. The car was filthy. Athena throws food and other bits of things and her drinks are sticky and my car has therefore turned into a sticky, cracker-crumb laden vehicle. Now it is sparkling clean and fun to be in AND lemony fresh.

We also went downtown so I could submit an application for the job at the library that's closer to my house. And we went to Babies R Us to pick up some last minute supplies. I went into work for about 1.5 hours to make up some time, and we ended our day at BJ's Warehouse store to stock up on bulk items. Needless to say, I'm feeling quite productive.

When I went into work, I talked to one of the ladies in my department who used to be a Navy nurse. She determined, based on how I felt yesterday and then today, that baby would come tomorrow. She has also had four boys, so if anyone should have a sense about these things, she should. We'll see if she's right. Personally, I'm getting beyond caring. If he can just give my stomach a little room so I can eat more than two bites without becoming uncomfortable, and if he could get his head away from my butt... I'd be fine with this whole pregnancy thing going several more days. Well, okay... hours.

Maternity Leave - Day Two

Okay, I promise to come up with more original titles eventually, but for now, I'm sticking to facts. :-)

Doctor's appointment went well, and honestly, that's all I accomplished today. I have been feeling ooky/gross all day, and I suspect the next post you see here will be all the gory details of labor and delivery (can't wait, can you?). The virus I had has settled down for a long spring nap in my chest and larnyx, which means that when I attempt to talk, I barely manage a squeak. Well-wishers have been calling tonight and have been aghast at how bad my voice sounds. It's exhausting to talk.

The doctor poked at my belly and noticed the contraction I was having, which is a constant thing lately. They are just Braxton Hicks ("practice") contractions, but they are constant and they are building. She then checked for dilation and effacement, which is really an uncomfortable thing. For those of you who are curious what it feels like: For women, imagine your standard pap smear, only the "little pressure" lasts for around 45 seconds to a minute. For men, imagine a rectal exam that goes on for about a minute while the doctor is conversing with you and poking around at the same time.

Now that you have a good picture, I'll tell you I'm 3.5 cm dilated and 50% effaced. This means that my cervix has an opening about 3.5 cm in diameter and the cervix walls have thinned to about 50% their normal thickness. The pushing begins at 10 cm and 100% effacement. Many women can walk around at 3 cm for weeks. I know for a fact that I was 3 cm for at least a week with Athena before she was born. The major pain and transition comes between 5 and 8 cm generally. With any luck, this labor will be like my last one, and I'll move through that transition phase rather quickly. In fact, the doctor said today that as soon as I feel my first real contraction, to go ahead and call in. My last labor only lasted five hours, and most of the time, the second labor is quicker. Chris was very pleased to get permission from the doctor to basically come on in as soon as we know "this is it," as he would rather put bamboo shoots up his fingernails than deliver this baby himself either here at the house or in the car by the side of the road.

I can't make a direct comparison to Athena as far as where I am in the process, because they checked me a week earlier with Athena. As crummy as I have felt all day and as tired as I have been, I suspect that I am actually going to see the inside of the hospital within the next 24-36 hours. And in all honesty, I think it may be tonight. The doctor was fairly sure it would be before the end of the weekend, and coincidentally, she goes on call tomorrow morning at 7am, so she may very well be the lucky one to deliver our strapping young man... unless of course I go tonight.

So that's the update. I'll keep posting as long as I'm not hospitalized. We should have pictures of the new guy up within a couple of days of delivery, and if the Austins are kind enough to give us some space on their website, we may be able to get a video up (not of labor and delivery... just of the little guy's first few moments.)

Maternity Leave - Day One

I will now freely admit that part of the reason I started my maternity leave before the baby actually showed up was that I was sure the mere act of doing so would actually prod said baby into appearing. After all, as long as he's not here, I'm eating through paid leave just so more of my leave can be unpaid, and I'll have to wait that much longer for disability. Plus, look at all the stuff lying around the house that I can do with this time off... surely, fate wouldn't actually allow me to get it done! Well, it seems fate is once again laughing at me.

Since I was sick last weekend, I couldn't do ANYTHING. Kitchen was filthy, laundry was unfolded, beds were not changed out (so were were still sleeping on the sheets we slept on while sick... germ central). Fortunately, my mother came over on Sunday and she and her best friend scrubbed my kitchen top to bottom and even cleaned the living room. So today, my to do list was as follows:

• Change sheets on two beds and crib
• Fold and put away all laundry (except Chris' -- his I fold, but he has to put away)
• Empty and refill dishwasher
• Pay bills
• Complete Maternity Leave paperwork (mainly for Short Term Disability)
• Write final two Thank You notes (well, final for now)
• Go to Ultrasound appointment
• Complete paperwork for increasing Home Equity Line
• Go to bank to turn in said paperwork and make a small deposit
• Put in four hours of work in an attempt to make up for time out last week
• Program friend's new numbers into mobile phone so she can be reached when baby is born
• Clean Master bathroom
• Cook dinner
• Pick up dog from vet

Now, here is what I actually accomplished today:

• Change sheets on two beds and crib
• Fold and put away all laundry
• Empty and refill dishwasher
• Pay bills
• Go to Ultrasound appointment
• Take two-hour nap
• Put in thirty minutes of work in an attempt to make up for time out last week
• Pick up dog from vet

I suppose one could say that I got a few things done. But alas, picking up the dog gave me new to do items (Get prescription food from Petsmart, Read 30 page article on Cushings disease, make another appointment for more tests to see if dog really does have Cushings, sell kidney to pay for vet bills), and paying bills also gave me another to do item (figure out why I cannot make a single payment to a payee in my web banking if I have them set up for recurring payments. And then how do I cancel the recurring payments?!) And even putting away the laundry gave me another item (continue to pester husband and/or cat to find the damn mouse that the bastard cat obviously brought in but neglected to kill. Mr. Mouse had moved into a throw blanket which I had the nerve to move today, and now the mouse has entered the Rodent Protection Plan and his whereabouts are unknown. So far, the cat's response has been to sleep on my feet, as he is currently doing.)

So tomorrow's list is as long as today's, only the ultrasound appointment is replaced with a doctor's appointment. Incidentally, the ultrasound was ultracool, and the baby's estimated weight as of today is 8 pounds, 5 ounces. The error rate is 15%, which she estimated to be 3/4 of pound up or down. So he could be anywhere from 7.5 to 9 pounds. And still growing. Mama mia!

Fortunately, my mother-in-law will be here, so perhaps between the TWO of us, we can get more done, plus actually both have some time to put into working. So any of you who thought that maternity leave must be so RELAXING... it isn't. Even when no "maternity" has actually occured yet. Going to bed now. Perchance to dream, perchance to labor.

Mystery Arrival of the Mystery Named One

Chris has placed all his bets on the baby arriving tonight (due to the fact that there is a home hockey game, full moon, and my mother is having surgery today). So... in the event something happens, we will call everyone we know. For those of you outside of the country or who we do not have phone numbers for (our blogger buddies), someone will hopefully post the news as a comment on my most recent blog entry (perhaps this one?!) so you will know.

For the record, I don't feel any sort of indication it will happen tonight, but it's early yet...

Isn't It Ironic?

I'll let you guys argue the semantics of whether or not this is actually ironic. My little brain is addled enough, and now that it is also full of even MORE snot (which I didn't think was possible) plus a Sudafed (drowsy formula), I'm going to hope that I don't pass out mid-sentence. I'm certainly not going to worry about whether or not my little situation is truly irony, or just a weird unexpected twist.

I went to the doctor yesterday. (That's not the ironic part). He measured my belly, said it was a good size, poked around a bit to be sure the baby's head was downward in a preferred launch position and that the butt was up by my diaphragm. All was well, he said. And then he looked at my chart and said, "I need you to schedule another ultrasound." "Really?" I thought. This late in the game, they want another ultrasound? I've seen this kid like four times already and he hasn't even been born yet! I'll be over 39 weeks by then (a reminder to those non-parents out there... gestation is normally 40 weeks, so D-Day is imminent.)

Yes, indeed, he wants an ultrasound. Turns out I have only netted seven pounds this pregnancy. Most women are supposed to gain at least 15... and if you are one of the beautiful people who is always at an ideal or lower weight, then you should aim for 25-30 (mainly so those of us not so fortunate as to always look like Barbie dolls can make fun of you for at least nine months.)

Personally, I haven't been aiming for anything, weight-wise. I eat, therefore I live. I have always had problems with weight, so by golly why would I change anything I do as far as eating goes when I am suddenly SUPPOSED to gain weight. But (and herein lies some of the irony), apparently, when I am TOLD to gain weight, I lose it. It happened when I was pregnant with Athena too, although by the end of that pregnancy, I think I netted closer to 15 pounds.

So... here is the REALLY ironic part. Why do they need an ultrasound? Why, to be sure the baby isn't too SMALL, of course. After all the conversations I have had with these doctors about fearing the baby would be too large based on my size and the size of my first-born, now they are testing to be sure he's not too small.

To the doctor's credit, he told me that he doesn't believe for a minute that the baby is too small. Quite the opposite, actually. However, we live in a litigious society that is also run by insurance companies, and if, for some reason, I birth a runt of a child, then someone will look at the doctor and say, "Well, DUMMY, didn't you notice she only gained seven pounds? Didn't you see this coming?" *sigh*

Of course, it's no biggie, really. Just a trip across town and another chance to get a look at He Who Must Not Be Named. I can think of worse ways to spend my time.

Station Break

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. And it will be a while longer before I do. I am not well enough to put together anything coherent, and on top of that, I've done little more in the last week than sleep, cough, blow my nose, and whimper. Not really exciting enough for a blog entry. Hell, it's not really exciting enough to qualify as life at this point.

The Baby Shower

I was not expecting any sort of baby shower this time around. After all, it's a second baby, and we really do have most everything we need. Thanks to the fact that all my friends only seem to produce boys (except Brian and Sophie, who will now get all of Athena's old clothes), I have enough clothes to dress triplets. And of course I still have a stroller, baby blankets, toys, bouncy seats, etc. from Athena.

However, the women I work with are so wonderful and caring and social that they insisted on throwing a shower for me this time too. Let it be known that I started my job at the library when I was eight months pregnant with Athena, and they still threw me a little shower then. They didn't even KNOW me very well, but there was a huge box of pampers and all sorts of little baby things (incluing so much bath soap that I will probably be able to pass some of THAT on to something as well) sitting in the break room one day with a big sign and a cake.

So tonight, we gathered at a local restaurant after work and ate dinner and opened gifts. Chris and Athena were also invited and it made it even more wonderful to have them there. The ladies made some suggestions for names, many of which we had already talked about. Still no decision though. *sigh*

Anyway, we were given many books (no surprise there) and bibs and a blanket and pacifiers... all those things that are rather disposable... which means we can really use them. We were also given a couple of gift certificates to Target, which is an extra bonus for us because we live near a SuperTarget, so we can actually buy groceries with those... not just fun Target stuff. :-) Oh, and diapers... we do need diapers. But perhaps my favorite gift was a one-hour massage for me! YAY! I believe I will save that for a few weeks after the baby is born. I can lie on my stomach then, and I can get a deep tissue massage, which many people recommend you not do while pregnant.

So really, a lovely evening all around. We had a wonderful time, and folks were so generous. I am truly blown away by how nice the people I work with are. Guess I should get to those thank you notes...

Krispy Kreme Krack

If you read Chris' blog, then you know how I have come to write about Krispy Kreme. If you haven't read it... or if it's just too "Gamer-Geek" for you, I'll sum up.

Basically, a very popular online comic strip set in the world of gamers and geeks (and created by gamers and geeks) did a strip the other day about a joint venture that has just been announced between Jim Lee (a comic artist and god of sorts) and Sony Online Entertainment. Despite the immense popularity of some of Sony's games (okay, well... EverQuest), many gamers (and employees/former employees) of SOE are not happy with the products they put out. Therefore, this merger between an extremely well-respected talent and a huge corporate evil-doer is a little frightening for some, and downright terrifying for others.

In this strip, an analogy was made between said merger and a merger that would put human excrement into Krispy Kreme doughnuts. (I avoided saying sh*t out of respect for poor Jessey, who I am sure is struggling to rebound from her Lenten relapse and give another go at not cursing. Go, Jessey!) In what must be the best display of huge corporate evil-doer sense of humor EVER, Sony Online Entertainment sent the creators of said comic strip 100 boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. That's 1200 doughnuts, folks. That is, as they say, a LOT of dough. Nuts.

So, naturally, since reading this whole issue a couple of days ago... the Krispy Kreme storm has been a brewing in our minds here at the house. We were both thinking about them, but we weren't speaking of our thoughts, lest they become actions.

Well, Chris had to go to the grocery store today for something else (Athena has a nasty cold and we are low on Pediacare), and sure enough, he came home with a beautiful one dozen KK glazed doughnuts. And of course, he and Athena had one each immediately upon arriving home. Then, I had one right after dinner... even though I was quite full. And you know what? I want another. And it has me thinking... what IS it about those sugary, fatty treats that make them so incredibly addictive? I literally am uncomfortably full, and I feel confident that as soon as I post this blog entry, I will probably go eat another one.

So what is it that makes us crave these treats like nothing else? My favorite theory is that we feel the need to eat them immediately because when they are stale, they are NASTY, and they get stale quick. In fact, that's another interesting phenomenon... how can something taste SO good when fresh, and so icky when stale? These are magic doughnuts!

And now I wonder, how many of YOU will have to give into the craving within 48 hours of reading this. I wonder if the government has ever tested these yummies for illegal substances. It's got to be something way worse than sugar... it just has to be.

A Look at Lent

I am not Catholic. Having said that, I feel perfectly comfortable exploring the vast mystery of Lent. Today, I was listening to a very interesting essay about Lent on NPR. Perhaps you heard it. I believe it was on All Things Considered.

Basically, a guy (a Catholic guy) was sitting in a bar with his Jewish college buddies several weeks before Lent. Somehow, the topic of Lent came up and he explained that you choose to give up something sort of as a representation of penance. He went on to explain that you are spiritually preparing for Easter, blah, blah, blah. His Jewish friends were fascinated by this, but they thought it was odd that folks would choose their own penance. "Wouldn't it make more sense," one of them wondered, "if someone else chose your penance for you?"

This fellow thought about it and realized... yes, that does indeed make a lot of sense. After all, if you WANT the cross to bear, it isn't much of a cross to bear, is it? So he agreed to let his buddies pick what he would sacrifice during that upcoming Lent.

His buddies went easy on him. They deliberated over many things, and threw out beer as a possibility right away, because after all, giving up beer would be impossible. Finally, they decided he should give up orange soda, which was what he subsisted on normally for those late night study sessions.

How brilliant is this? If you are going to celebrate Lent, what a great idea to have a friend choose for you! What a real challenge that would be. It worked so well for this guy, that his buddy called him every year way past college to tell him what his penance was that year. (One year, it was oregano, which must have been kind of like telling someone not to eat salt.)

Anyway, I'm not a super-religious person, but I certainly see how this sort of exercise could be spiritually rewarding. So since I don't actually observe Lent myself, let me know if you would like me to tell you what you should give up for the next six weeks. I'm happy to do it!

Skate with the Canes

Today, we attended a special event with the Carolina Hurricanes thanks to a Christmas gift from my mother-in-law. She got us tickets to this charity event that allows you to get autographs, pictures, and of course, actually skate with the members of the Carolina Hurricanes. At my current state of pregnancy, skating was out, but I did have a good time, as did both Chris and Athena. I'm sure Chris will have more to say on his blog, so I'll just leave you with this picture. Left to right: Cory Stillman (wing), The Mommy Librarian, Cam Ward (goalie), Athena, Chris, and Andrew Hutchinson (defenseman).

The Posse

You scored as Babylon 5 (Babylon 5). The universe is erupting into war and your government picks the wrong side. How much worse could things get? It doesnâ??t matter, because no matter what you have your friends and you'll do the right thing. In the end that will be all that matters. Now if only the Psi Cops would leave you alone. Babylon 5 (Babylon 5) 81% Moya (Farscape) 75% Galactica (Battlestar: Galactica) 69% SG-1 (Stargate) 63% Deep Space Nine (Star Trek) 56% Millennium Falcon (Star Wars) 50% Serenity (Firefly) 50% FBI's X-Files Division (The X-Files) 38% Enterprise D (Star Trek) 38% Nebuchadnezzar (The Matrix) 31% Bebop (Cowboy Bebop) 31% Andromeda Ascendant (Andromeda) 25% Your Ultimate Sci-Fi Profile II: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in? (pics) created with QuizFarm.com

My Bad Side

Uh... if you say so...

Hairy Henry People Iced: Fifteen Car Bombs Planted: Sixteen Favorite Weapon Chain Saw Arms Broken: Three Eyes Gouged: Nine Tongues Cut Off: Six Biggest Enemy: Bad Boy Bart Get Your HITMAN Name

Compare and Contrast

So I feel bigger this pregnancy than last one. However, the measurements I get at the doctor's office every week dispute this. I am measuring almost exactly the same as I did with Athena. So I'm leaving it up to you, my adoring public, to decide. The picture in the blue shirt is from April 13, 2004 (about two weeks before Athena made her grand entrance...) so I was about 37 weeks pregnant. Picture in the green sweater is me this evening. I'm currently at 36 weeks. I think I look exactly the same... which means I am indeed a bit bigger, since I'm one week less further along. What say you?

Just Call Me Gorbachev

Pregnancy brings out some real funky bodily weirdness. Literally.

Yesterday, while eating dinner with Kathryn and John, my good friend looked at my forehead and said, "Hey, what's going on there? Is your melanin acting up? Mine did that a bit when I was pregnant."

To which I replied, "Huh?"

Sure enough, I went to look in the mirror, and there it was -- a map of Asia in a slightly darker pigment than my normal skin tone etched into my forehead just above my nose. I have no idea how long it has been there, nor do I want to know how long it plans to hang around. My hope is that people will just think I don't wash my face well until it disappears.

The irony: I often brag about how I have never developed that unsightly line of melanin going down my pregnant belly. So I suppose nature has sought her revenge by putting my mark right in the middle of my forehead instead. Nice.

Defying Gravity

I love water. I find it very soothing whether I'm in it or just looking at it. It's Mother Nature at her best and worst. It can kill you as quick as it can heal you. And when you get right down to it... it IS you. I've actually nearly drowned three times, and yet I continue to get into water every chance I get.

So I keep water around me all the time. If I could live on an island, I would. I would settle for being on a lake or a river. But alas, there is no such place around here. So when we selected this house, one of the features that drew me in was the tub. No, it's not a lake, but it is large and I can soak my body in it without feeling like I'm wedged into a clam shell.

I take baths frequently in the evenings anyway, but while pregnant, the joy of a bath is hard to describe. When I first learned I was pregnant with Athena, I was horrified to read that not too long ago, doctors advised women against soaking in baths or pools because there was a fear of infection. Fortunately, modern medicine has wised up on this issue, and now bathing and swimming are encouraged as the best form of relaxation and exercise, respectively. You still aren't allowed to soak in a jacuzzi, but that is because of body temperature regulation rather than any sort of grossness in the water.

I even considered a water birth the first time around. If you aren't familiar with this phenomenon, it basically means that you labor and deliver in a large tub of water, and the coolest part is that once the baby is born and before the cord is cut, you can actually hold the baby underwater (it will continue to breathe through the cord) so the transition into the cold, dry world is supposedly made easier on her (or him). It seemed to me to be the most relaxing and soothing of the choices for labor and delivery.

I didn't choose a water birth basically by default. When I went searching for an OB/GYN in the area, there were very few who accepted our insurance and were reasonably close by. This struck me as quite odd, considering we are very close to both Duke and UNC... two of the nation's top medical schools and teaching hospitals. Then, when I started calling the various practices that WERE listed on my insurance company's site, some didn't even answer the phone! This is NOT unusual around here, unfortunately, as there are a kajillion doctors in the area due to the large teaching hospitals, and yet none of them seem to take new patients anymore. To say it's a pain in the ass is to understate the issue grossly.

So I did find a GREAT practice, but it turns out they only practice at one hospital, Rex Hospital. It's part of the UNC family of hospitals, and it isn't the closest hospital to our house. (There are about eight hospitals within a fair drive from our house, and we could really deliver in any one of them if we wished.) However, this practice is really good, I really liked the doctor I met, and best of all, they answered the phone. Therefore, I chose them. And at this particular hospital, there are no birthing tubs. Ergo, no water birth.

Turns out this was a very fortunate turn of events for me. First of all, now that I know how messy a birth really is, I'm glad I wasn't sitting in a tub with all the goo of childbirth floating around me. Second, I actually tried to get in the tub at home when I went into labor in the hopes it would help me relax and soothe the contractions. I stayed in the tub for maybe three contractions and realized that I would rather be ANYWHERE than sitting in that tub. It was just uncomfortable and awkward. As much as I love water, I wanted nothing of it when I was delivering my baby.

That said, right up until labor begins, the tub is my best friend. I now take a bath pretty much nightly, sometimes twice a night. When you haul around 25 extra pounds jutting straight out of your abdomen all day, the feeling of floating in a tub of warm water is exquisite. Your body actually becomes weightless, and for once, you don't notice the heft of the baby pressing against your back, or pulling down on your belly, or even kicking your spleen. He goes from a kickboxer to a slow-rolling beach ball in a matter of moments. If only I could sit in a tub all day...

And the tub also helps me with the horrible insomnia that comes from pregnancy. Last night, I believe I had the worst night's sleep ever. Athena was up about six times in 2.5 hours with some sort of headache and stuffy nose, and I had a raging headache myself. After finally getting back to sleep around 2:30 am, I awoke at 3:00 just to toss and turn for another hour and a half. Finally, I got up and went for a soak in the tub. Ten minutes of relaxing and floating and my body was ready to hit the hay again. I swear, water is magic. It's the safest and easiest way I know to defy gravity.

A Loss for Words - Well, Sort Of

I know of at least one reader who gets angry if I don't post often enough. So I felt I needed to post tonight, just to appease her. However, I find I have nothing to say.

Perhaps Chris' writer's block is contagious or perhaps the whole circumcision discussion has just drained me... but I really feel a bit empty and devoid of any useful information or even humorous stories. And this is very odd for me. After all, my favorite hobby is talking about myself!

Speaking of hobbies, perhaps that is something I can talk about. I have picked up my cross stitch again and I am very happy about this. I think my brain is finally settled well enough into my job and motherhood that I have a little creative energy when I get home.

Unfortunately, I started so many projects back when I was a religious cross stitcher back in 2000 through 2003 that I've sort of lost track of which baggies of floss go with which project. However, I'm figuring it out. Currently, I'm focusing on one large piece and one small one. The large one is downstairs and I work on it when I'm watching DVDs (lately mostly Sex and the City). It's called Stroke of Midnight by Teresa Wentzler. If you are not familiar with her work, it's VERY complex, with MANY different colors (often over 100). The end result is quite stunning however. Here is a pic of a finished piece... obviously not mine. I am a little less than half finished with it, which means you can see the top left doorway avec the Prince and the bottom left floral arrangements, plus the left side of Cinderella's dress. The dress is a total bitch to sew due to the massive detail work. (For those of you who stitch, all those bands in her dress are done over one. Fortunately, my eyesight is still with me, but I'm not sure it will be when I'm done!)

Upstairs, I have May's Emerald Fairy by Mirabilia. I started this one because I thought I would stitch it for a friend who was born in May. But I never finished it before we drifted apart. So now I'm torn between giving it to one of the millions of other people in my life who were born in May. Lately, I have been thinking I'd like to give it to little Jubilee, my friend's daughter whom I have never met but who I feel is like my neice. Anyway, no promises (especially to Staci)... I have to finish the thing first. It's stitched on linen and has lots of beads and sparkly things. It's daintier than what I usually like, but it is quite pretty. I am actually almost done with this. I just have the two right-most flowers on the bottom and all the beadwork to do. If I stitch an hour each night, I imagine it will be done by the end of the month if not earlier.

So I suppose I came up with something to talk about after all. Not so exciting for those of you who don't stitch, although I always find it interesting to see what people's hobbies are. I like stitching because it looks much more impressive than it is. Honestly, as long as you pick a nice pattern, it's going to come out looking impressive. And all I have to do is basically color by number. If I put the right colors where the artist tells me to... voila! I have a masterpiece. It's very rewarding for those of us who have no sense of color and no ability to actually draw or paint. I stitch therefore I am creative.

Snip Snip

There are many decisions to be made when you are having a baby: breastmilk or formula, cloth or disposable diapers, what to name the little booger... but with a boy, there is one other decision to be made... and it's not a fun one.

As if not being able to settle on a name weren't bad enough, we are also currently struggling with the "circumcision decision." (Cue all men to cross legs). When I say "we," I mean Chris. I actually declared early on in my first pregnancy before we knew whether I was gestating a boy or a girl that this would be a decision I would lay squarely on the shoulders of my husband. After all... I don't have the body part, I don't have to deal with it every day, and I don't stand around in locker rooms comparing mine to others. So really, this one is all on him.

That said, I am still reading up on it and trying to educate myself as to why folks do or don't go through with the minor (yet heart-wrenching) procedure. Turns out, there are just as many pros and cons to either side. It all comes down to what you WANT to do. I suddenly wish that we had religious beliefs that would dictate this for us so that we could just unquestioningly make the decision. Unfortunately, we don't even have blind faith.

So now I have to be sensitive to Chris when asking about it or even writing about it. (For example, he has asked me not to refer to it as "snip, snip," yet I continue to do so. But that's only because as much as I try to be sensitive and caring, I'm really just interested in making Chris squirm). I've asked others to weigh in -- men and women -- and although people often have an opinion, they don't always know WHY they have that opinion. I really think this is going to be the hardest decision for us (well, Chris) to make.

Only Five Weeks to Go

I am 35 weeks pregnant today. Normal term is 40 weeks. We're going to have another baby in five weeks. Holy crap.

Want to know how I'm feeling? Too bad, cause I'm going to tell you anyway... Here is a little excerpt from the babycenter.com newsletter I receive weekly:

Your baby doesn't have much room to maneuver now that she's over 18 inches long and weighs over 5 pounds. In fact, most of her development is complete. From here on, she's mostly concentrating on fattening up. You don't have a lot of room to grow either — your uterus is now about 15 times its normal size.

Once again, I say, "Holy crap!" Both my husband and my coworkers have been marvelling at my profile. People look at me from the front and think, oh, she's a little pregnant. Then I turn to the side and you hear the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey in the background. I am huge. And the baby supposedly gains a half pound per week from here on out. Words fail me here... oh wait, I know what to say... "Holy Crap!"

I am popping Tums as if they were mints because my stomach has been pushed up so far in my chest that is it working on digesting my left lung. All those Tums are not good for the old GI system either. I think they settle your stomach by pushing all its contents out the other side.

The sad thing is, this is my last pregnancy and I shall miss it, I know. I really do enjoy being pregnant. As much as I complain about it, I marvel every day at the fact that I am growing a little life inside of me. Even better, a little life that is part me and part Chris. Not to get too sappy here, but that is really way cool when you stop to think about it. Watching him dance and roll around in my tummy is really something to behold, and although they are wonderful outside the womb as well, you just can't get that same sensation back.

So in the next five weeks, I plan to enjoy this as much as possible.

Poor Puppy

A lost dog showed up at the doors of the library this morning looking for help. She had a bad infection on her rear, and she was dragging her backend. We were concerned she may have been hit by a car. She was a full-bred poodle (not a standard... the next size down. Miniature?)

Anyway, I wished my friend Susan had been close by, as she is the Queen of "what to do when you find an animal in distress," but we called Animal Control and they came VERY quickly. The woman who picked her up told us she was a girl and that it looked like the infection was a flea allergy that she had been chewing on. She also thought that the "injury" was actually the beginnings of a blown disc or hip problems... very common in this breed. She said it's hard to tell how old poodles are by their teeth, but she estimated this is an older dog who seems to have good teeth (that is, she is well taken care of).

So they said they would try to locate an owner, and they would treat the infection. If no owner is to be found, she said the dog would go to poodle rescue and would have no problem finding a home.

Quite a dramatic start to our day here!

Why February Rocks the House

Yes, it's the month of the evil V-Day. But it's also the month that Girl Scout cookies arrive at your door. Chris and I just polished off a half a box of Thin Mints. And I don't feel guilty a bit. It's good to be pregnant in February.

Walk Softly and Carry a Big Stick

Athena recently attended the second birthday party of her friend Aiden. Personally, I was alarmed at how quickly she took to the pinata idea.

Aiden got a playhouse for his birthday. We went to visit him yesterday, and here is a shot of them "playing house" together. Very cute, these two. (And no, the house isn't THAT big. Aiden's mom took this picture through the window.)

Valentine Schmalentine

I know it's totally unoriginal to hate Valentine's Day. Many people do. After all, it's a crappy little Hallmark holiday that has COMPLETELY lost it's attachment to the Saint for which it is named. Sure, he gets a cursory mention in most elementary school classes, but no one ever really remembers the story. They just remember "flowers," "chocolate," and "romance."

Now, I have nothing at all against flowers, chocolate and romance. I'll take any of those things anytime anywhere. EXCEPT on Valentine's Day. To me, romance is spontaneous (although often planned) and heartfelt. How on EARTH can anything be romantic on a day where everyone is EXPECTED... nay FORCED to be romantic? There is no logic here, people. And flowers and chocolate cost twice as much this time of year to boot. Bah, humbug.

So I have adamantly declared a ban on V-Day in my home for years. In fact, the results of this ban have only proven how unromantic a holiday it is. The guy I dated just before I met Chris gave me flowers on Valentine's Day even after I told him not to and explained, in detail, why I don't celebrate it. When I asked him why he got me flowers when I told him not to, he told me that he thought I was just testing him. *sigh* And honestly, he was probably smart to do that, because I am sure there are several thousand women who would have really tested him in that way. I, however, broke up with him instead.

But now I ask you... I have a daughter. My dad always gave us candy hearts and stuffed animals on Valentine's Day when I was growing up... and I did appreciate it. Because anything coming from my dad was wonderful and heartfelt and meaningful, even if it was on a cheesy day of the year. It always brightened my day when he did that. So I wonder, should I ease up on the V-Day ban next year? Or maybe even this year? Should I encourage Chris to get his daughter a little something so she won't ever doubt herself on V-Day? Part of the reason I hate it so much is because it is so horrible on folks who don't have a sweetheart. Why should someone who is already lonely be made to feel even more so? So is my ban actually selfish? Should I be more open to the holiday for my daughter's sake?

What do you think? Help me out here.

Parenting Reassurance

I have a horribly quick temper. That's not to say I really lash out... actually, I get sulky. And, for the record, I hate myself when I get that way... but nevertheless, it happens. I do yell sometimes... especially if someone is yelling at me.

Why do I share this? Because once in a while I feel that my parenting techniques are less than sound. We laugh at Athena's temper tantrums (which only pisses her off more... but hey... they are FUNNY!). We allow her to meander around downstairs and try things that might hurt her. We do stop short of letting her put her finger in a socket, but generally we feel that exploration is good. So of course, like any parent worth a damn, I often wonder if we're doing it right.

This is when it's good to work in a public place. Especially a place where people bring children. To date, I have witnessed the following:

• A boy waited for his mom to come get him for 4 hours (from 5pm to 9pm). When we closed at nine, he alerted me that he had been unable to reach his mom and didn't know where she was. I called the police (our standard policy) and when they arrived, they knew his name. Apparently, his mom reported him missing several hours ago. She had made no attempts to call the library and she was not answering her home phone as her son was trying to call her.
• A mother was browsing for books and letting her young girls (maybe 5 and 9) roam freely about the library. The youngest wasn't feeling well and sat down in one of our comfy chairs. She threw up in it. Her older sister came to tell me, then went to get her mother. Her mother said, "Okay, I'm almost done..." finished pulling books from the shelf, then checked out and LEFT. No apologies, and no apparent concern for the fact that her daughter had vomited or that we would have to clean it up. (I came down with a nasty stomach virus about 4 hours after cleaning it up).
• A man came in and asked Jen (one of my loyal commenters) where he could leave his child so he could "get some work done." Apparently, he expected us to have a daycare service like his gym.
• A woman came in with three kids (at least I think they were all hers... it was really hard to tell), one of whom had a project to do. The girl with the project asked for my assistance with the computer while the mother roamed aimlessly about with a baby who was absolutely screaming. From time to time, she popped the baby and told him to shut up. Her toddler was sucking on a lollipop and indicating he wanted me to pick him up. She was popping him regularly as well, telling him not to be a pain (he wasn't even old enough to be talking yet). When the daughter sat at her computer, her toddler brother came up and started playing with the mouse. She hit him twice... quite hard... and told him to quit it. He then turned off her computer. I almost hugged him. Unfortunately, she hit him on the head first.
• I have spoken to several parents on Sunday afternoons who are at the library to gather materials for their child's report (due Monday) while their child is at work or otherwise occupied. Often these parents do not have the assignment sheet and only have what the kid said. These inquiries frequently sound like "I need everything you have on Chemistry." When I discover that they are actually gathering materials for their son or daughter, I ask if they can be reached to get more details. I am told "Oh, they can't be bothered. They are at work." I have twice been told, "just give me a few books and we'll make something up." I have to take a shower when I get home after situations like that.
• A 13-year-old boy brought his 3-year-old sister to the libary one day before noon. He promptly got on a computer and started playing Runescape. He provided no food or beverage for his sister and left her talking with strangers (one of whom actually went out and got her a sandwich -- this is a regular patron we know well who homeschools her kids). Twice, a librarian had to take her into the bathroom to help her potty. He stayed on the computers all day. We asked him several times about his sister and where his mother was. "At work." He told us she was coming to get him at 5:30. At 5:45 I called the police. When they arrived, he was on his cell phone (which he had not produced all day) talking to his mom, and he told the police she was on her way. When she arrived, she berated me for calling the police. After all, "He is old enough to take care of his sister, and I was just down the street. He could have called me anytime."

So, in case you are wondering, I am Parent of the Year, my friends.

Stream of Consciousness

I haven't got much to say, but I don't want to leave that depressing, moody crap from yesterday as the only thing for you to look at, so here are some little tidbits from the lint traps of my brain.

• Harris Teeter sells yellow cake with chocolate frosting by the SLICE. Good thing I only discovered this today.
• When pregnant, a woman can produce enough snot to fill the salt lakes. Not kidding.
• The F word is most impressive when issued from an almost five foot tall ex-cheerleader, soon to be a librarian.
• My mother had a root canal Monday. The best part is, she said it was more pleasant than getting a crown. Apparently, my mother is part iron, part steel, and part enamel (albeit a bit damaged).
• If one more person tells me how horrible labor induction is, I shall scream.
• If a friend goes to Hawaii for ten days and doesn't even offer to take you along, is she really a friend?
• There is an ancient (read: prehistoric) tribe of people on an island in the Indian Ocean somewhere who have completely refused to talk to anyone from the outside world and will kill you with arrows if you try to go there. They even survived the Tsunami. And you thought Lost was fiction...
• Teen Jeopardy tonight had a category that required you to alphebetize stuff, and I got all but one question wrong. Perhaps I WAS supposed to learn something in library school.
• When you wonder where all your Tupperware (R) went, it's time to clean out the fridge.
• Hearing Jim Henson (as Kermit) sing "It's Not Easy Being Green" can still make me cry. This really baffles a 21-month-old child.
• When people see your entire stomach move as your son shifts his position, it really freaks them out.
• Not a single person I know outside the library has asked me what I thought about the James Frey controversy. So I'll tell you. There is a place in any library for James Frey's book. And no, it's not the Fiction section OR the Nonfiction section. It's called "The circular file."
• Where are the Barenaked Ladies? I miss them.
• President Bush thinks that it's a good idea to cut funding to Smart Start programs because technically, no one can prove they are working. I think it's a good idea to cut funding to the White House because technically, ...

Depression

It is a well-known fact that pregnancy leads to moodiness. How can it not, really? You are bringing another human being into the world and you will be expected to shape and mold it and turn it into a fine citizen. Or at the very least, The President of the United States. No pressure, folks.

It is also a well-known fact that women are generally moody. It's those hormones of ours. They do weird things to the brain. Some of us are worse than others, but few women can claim that they have never experienced a random, unexplainable mood swing.

And finally, it's a well-known fact that only women can be pregnant. Is this a recipe for disaster or what?! Take a person who is by nature moody, and throw a parasitic creature into her abdomen. Then tell her she has no more than nine months to prepare for its arrival and then she will need to become the perfect mother (while remaining the perfect partner in many cases). How is it that we don't simply explode from the hormonal mood swings while pregnant?!

So I have now entered moody hell. I am less than two months away from what I am sure will be beyond life-changing, and I am not really ready to welcome it. Just in the past 24 hours, I have come to realize that I may miss a huge opportunity at work (the kind of opportunity that only knocks once and could actually ensure your entire future success) because I would have to commit to a three-day workshop starting March 28. With a due date of March 21... I simply cannot make that commitment. This makes me angry, and then guilty that I'm angry.

I have also learned that I may well have to interview for a job I really want while in labor and delivery, due to the timing of when the job will probably post and close. Another topper is that there is another job opportunity kind of knocking around my front door that offers a much higher compensation, but will once again put me back in the position of making $15K or more less than a peer. I did that once, and although this peer will actually be competent... I just can't degrade myself like that again. So what might have offered us at least a year or so of financial stability may fall apart just because of my pesky principles. (I only say a year or so because the company I would work for is doomed. Literally. The writing is on the wall. I would be boarding a sinking ship).

As if all this weren't overwhelming enough, I've learned that my husband has been making assumptions about how I feel about something that is important to both of us, and now that I know how he thinks I feel, he doesn't even really want to talk about it. This is his right, of course, but it makes me wonder how many assumptions I've made about his feelings that may be wrong. And that, folks, is just depressing.

For instance, I may be just assuming he doesn't want to talk about it. I asked him if we could, but he didn't answer. Perhaps he didn't even hear me. I suppose that will get cleared up when he reads this, anyway.

If there is one thing I hate about people... it's that we assume way too frequently because, quite honestly, it's easier, and we are totally wrong about 90% of the time. I pride myself on checking assumptions and trying to be sure I am using valid information rather than guesses, and yet I rarely seem to ACTUALLY check assumptions. I sort of assume that I have made the right assumptions. The word "ass" isn't prominent in "assumption" for nothing, people. I am living proof.

Don't let this post get you down. After all, that's the great thing about moodiness... if you don't like the current mood here, just wait 20 minutes... it will change.

Technical Difficulties

Since Friday, I have been unable to post successfully. I tried to post "Say Hello to my Little Friend" like a dozen times. It woud post, and then disappear. We soon discovered that one thing that made it disappear was comments.

So... if you have commented on that post and now don't see your comment, please feel free to repost your comment. I haven't seen any of the comments that were posted until I reposted this morning. This one seems to be sticking...

My apologies for the technical difficulties. Seems moving text from Word to Blogger is bad. Of course, moving text from Word to most things is bad... I should have known.

Say 'ello To My Leetle Friend

Pregnancy, with its many drawbacks, also has one nice advantage. It is fairly free of accoutrements. This is very different from most other rights of passage in a woman's life. It is especially different from motherhood, which brings a whole houseful of accoutrements with it. However, occasionally, a pregnant woman does need to buy something or other to make herself more comfortable. Sometimes it's a pregnancy girdle to help alleviate the lower back pain that comes from carrying a watermelon around your waist. Sometimes it's support stockings to hide varicose veins. And sometimes it's hemorrhoid pads. Fortunately, I have needed none of these things. And I'm sure you, dear reader, are especially glad that I haven't needed the latter, because you can be sure that you would be reading all about it here on this blog. And no one really wants that, do they?

However, when I first learned I was "in the club" once again last July, I decided to buy a body pillow. Now, you can certainly make do without a body pillow when you are pregnant. But before I tell you how... let me first explain why one would need a body pillow to begin with.
When you reach a certain degree of pregnancy (usually by about half-way through the ordeal), "they" recommend that you sleep only on your left side. For many of us, to say this is limiting and a bit uncomfortable is like saying that the Sahara desert is a bit warm and dry. However, "they" do have good reasons for making this recommendation.

For instance, sleeping on your stomach would be simply out of the question. Even if you weren't simply afraid of crushing the little baby inside of you, it would be like lying over a large watermelon that kicks you all night. Not much sleep to be had in that scenario. Sleeping on your back is also obviously wrong, as anyone who has had a heavy cat or dog try to sleep on your tummy all night long can attest. Besides, when I do lie on my back for a few minutes to try to stretch it out, He Who Must Not Be Named ALWAYS starts kicking me. It's almost as if he feels my spine poking at him and it's uncomfortable for him. Then, if you really need a medical reason not to do it, there are a couple of major arteries that run down your back and if you lie on your back, the baby naturally rests on those arteries, creating sort of a "car running over a garden hose" effect. Personally, I prefer to allow blood to continue to circulate through my body, thank you very much.

You are permitted to lie on your right side if you would like, however, there is also a major vein or artery that runs down that side of your body, so once again, you risk some circulation problems. So left side is the winner, like it or not.

Now, when you lie on your side, if you don't have some support for your knees and your belly, you will find yourself with some major back pain in a short period of time. Hence the "need" for a body pillow. I put "need" in "quotes" because the same effect CAN be achieved simply by using other pillows that you probably have already spread around your house on various beds and in various closets. This is what I did the first time I was pregnant, and it worked quite well, all things considered.

There were a few drawbacks, however. The first was that all the pillows in the house were in our room. When I was pregnant with Athena, most of our friends still lived close by and my mother-in-law was not able to visit us quite as often from Texas. There was also no one else living in the house (for instance, Athena) that needed a pillow. So I could happily keep them all in the master bedroom and not be worried about it. Now, we have visitors far more frequently and I do get the impression that they like to sleep with pillows on the bed. Athena also has a pillow. This really depleted my supply.

Also, The Nest O' Pillows was a bit of a problem for my poor husband. I basically encircled myself with them to the point that he couldn't even really tell if I was in the bed or not... it just looked like a mound of fluff to his left. That is, if he could even get into the bed. We do have a king size bed, but pillows take up a lot of room, and the poor man was frequently teetering on the edge of the bed hoping not to tumble to the floor.

So for his sake, this time I forked over the $30 and got a body pillow. If you are unfamiliar with a body pillow, it's basically a pillow that is almost as tall as you are. And actually, for some of you, it probably IS as tall as you are... perhaps taller. The idea is that you rest your head on it at one end, and it runs down your body to support your belly, and then you tuck the bottom between your knees. There are also body pillows designed especially for pregnancy, that then run up your back again, and although this would be nice, they run about $70 to $80 and they are even harder to deal with than a normal body pillow.

Vicki Iovine (author of The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy) named her body pillow. So I felt a name was in order for mine. After all, you sleep with it every night... you should at least know its name, right? So mine is named Chuck. Chuck has been very good to me this pregnancy. However, Chuck -- like so many men -- does have his faults.

First of all, no human being can really sleep in one position all night long. Okay, maybe some of you can, but I certainly cannot. So I like to alternate between the right and left side. So far, I haven't lost all the blood flow to my feet, so I think whatever artery runs down my right side is successfully staying out of the way. However, to roll from one side to the other, I must also, in theory, take Chuck with me.

I sleep on the left side of the bed. So when I sleep on my left side, I can just tuck Chuck right under the sheets and we're all good. However, if I want Chuck to be on my right, I have to either:

A) Throw all the sheets off of me (and probably Chris), swing Chuck over my body, and then retuck all the sheets (easy way)

or

B) Wiggle around enough to make Chris believe he is living over the San Andreas fault as I try to drag Chuck under the sheets over to my right (hard way, but far more likely when I'm sleepy and not thinking about what is easiest.)

And let's not forget that the simple act of rolling from one side to the other when you are pregnant is just this side of impossible. Chris has frequently compared me to a turtle on its back when I try to attempt this daring maneuver. And I honestly have to say that I FEEL like a turtle on its back, or at the very least, a beetle. There is sometimes much kicking and twisting and there is always a fair amount of grunting and cursing... and the whole things ends when I finally say, "Can you stop laughing at me, you jackass, and help me up?!" Fortunately for our marriage, both of us are laughing hysterically at this point.

That said; imagine rolling over in bed while pregnant WITH darling Chuck along for the ride. I've successfully done this twice during the whole pregnancy, and if I woke Chris up in the process, he was very good about not letting on. Any other time, I have given up and I either try to sleep without the support or more often, I use Chuck as back support and I sort of sleep tilted TOWARD my back, but not on it.

Needless to say, this is where we see Mother Nature at the high point of her stand-up comedy routine. Pregnant women (especially those in their last trimester), don't sleep well... Chuck or no Chuck. And this is presumably to prepare us for the months of no sleep ahead of us when the baby actually arrives. Isn't good old Mama Nature a RIOT?!

*sigh* Chuck is calling... I suppose it's off to bed soon... perchance to sleep, perchance just to violently toss my swelling belly around the bed.

Some Cuteness

Since many of my recent blog posts have been of the grosser nature, I thought I might share something cute with you.

We have been playing "This Little Piggy" with Athena lately, and she loves it. She giggles every time. So now, she wants to play with us. She grabs my big toe and says "PIDDIE" and then she wiggles her hands up my leg and says "WEE WEE WEE" and looks at me to be sure I giggle.

Much cuteness.

Putrification

You may have read on Chris' blog about our recent bout with the Rotavirus. For those of you who have not had the pleasure, I will not resort to my normal gross-you-out-with-body-functions post. However, let us just say that between 10am and 11pm yesterday, Chris and I involuntarily completely cleansed our bodies of all toxins, food, and perhaps some G.I. linings.

I've had stomach bugs before. In fact, almost exactly a year ago, I came down with one at work and Chris had to come pick me up and drive me home. I literally couldn't function well enough to drive. However, even then, by midnight that night when HE had developed the same bug, I was able to at least function well enough to take care of Athena when she woke up in the wee hours of the morning, and I was able to eat within 24 hours of my first "episode." However, pregnancy seems to make everything worse...

Yesterday, I got home (I was able to drive myself, but just barely) and after a few more "episodes" I crashed. I had put in calls to the doctor for advice on what I could take and what I should watch out for. They called me around 1pm and recommended Immodium. We, of course, had none in the house. Neither Chris nor I could chance a journey out to the drugstore, so we rolled over and tried to sleep more off.

By 4pm, Chris was able to get up to go collect Athena at daycare. Just before he did, I took a turn for the worse. So I called the doctor again, and they called in a prescription for an anti-nausea drug. (And incidentally, hooray for insurance. Eight tablets -- of which I will probably only need the one I already took -- would have set us back $233 and some change. With insurance -- $30.)

So not only did Chris have to stop at the store for ginger ale and Immodium, he also had to go by the drugstore and get my prescription. And folks, if he even felt HALF as bad as I did, he must have literally crawled in there with Athena tethered to his ankle.

So the medicine worked well for the nausea, but the Immodium was a bit slower to take effect. Unfortunately, at about 7pm, we both developed a fever. Mine was 99.8, his was 100. (He wins). However, I was still way more knocked out than he was, and he managed to get Athena in the bath and get her to bed. I called the doctor again, because they told me I should go to the hospital if my fever got to be 101. Since it seemed to be going up, I wanted advice on whether or not I could take Tylenol to try to bring it down. I also started calling friends to see if someone could watch Athena in the event we did have to go to the hospital.

They told me I could take Tylenol. Unfortunately, no one told my stomach that and it sent me a message loud and clear... REJECTED! So I gave up on trying to stop the fever through drugs and just lay back down in the hopes it would break before getting too high. The doctor DID say that I could wait for the fever to hit 103, so I wasn't worried that it was really going to get that high.

By 10:30, I took my last Immodium and fortunately it worked... as I'd hit the maximum dose. By midnight, both of our fevers broke. We really did seem to enjoy a simulataneous sickness. And you know what they say, they family that's sick together... well, if you're lucky, you don't kill each other.

So today, our task was to rehydrate. I took Athena to school and I nearly passed out from having an empty stomach. So I had some crackers and they actually stayed put. It was a very exciting moment. The rest of the day was spent in bed sipping water and ginger ale, eating crackers and a peanut butter sandwich, sleeping, watching four episodes of Sex and the City so I could send the disc back to Netflix and sleeping. Normally, this would sound like a day in paradise. However, the underlying nausea and the unsurity of whether anything would actually stay down made it less than perfect.

I am pleased to report that all seems to be staying put... even the hotdogs we had for dinner. I still feel extraordinarily weak, but I'm hoping that I can regain a fair amount of strength before I have to be at work at noon tomorrow.

Ask and You Shall Receive...

Here are photos of the new room. Unfortunately, it turns out the light in that room isn't too good for pictures and so only one photo shows the true colors...

This shot is taken from the door. The color is most accurate in this one. It's called "Butterfly Flutter By." Obviously we still have quite a bit of decorating to do... but it's a start.

In this picture and the last, the walls actually look blue. So perhaps Chris got his wish after all! This is taken from the closet door, which you see in the picture below. Notice in the dresser mirror, you can actually see the nightstand from the picture above. And notice that you CAN'T see the photographer. I was very conscious of that, since I am wearing basically pajamas, and honestly, no one on the internet needs to see that...

And finally, this one was taken from the coatrack shown in the picture above. The door into the room is just a bit further right from this. We will eventually add the bookcase from the nursery, and it will probably go against this wall, but we have to buy a replacement for the nursery first. She has many books and stuffed toys and the like, and then we want to have separate space for him to have many books and stuffed toys as well.

Overall, Chris did a bang-up job getting the room painted. There are a few drips and some uneven patches... but again, we never claimed skill in this area. And it gives the room character, yes? Athena hung out in there for a while earlier, and she thinks it's pretty cool, but she doesn't seem ready to call it home yet. We'll work on it. I'm moving all her clothes in there, and when the bookcase goes in, I think she'll be really intrigued. I considered getting some stencils and painting her name on the wall over her bed, but I suspect by age 12 she won't like that much anymore... Maybe I'll do it anyway. We should probably paint again in 10 years anyway...

Pushing it to the Limit

Well, Athena is currently napping. She has probably had the busiest weekend she's had since we went on our cruise back in November. And she's weathering it okay, but not great.

Friday night, after a full day at daycare complete with a Chinese New Year Celebration (a parade of kids shaking rattles and some waving dragons), we tried a newish restaurant in Apex called Cheeburger Cheeburger. It's set up to resemble a 50s diner, and I suppose there are allusions to John Belushi's famous character on Saturday Night Live. However, I never saw the whole sketch (not a big SNL fan) and so I wouldn't know.

She did well at the restaurant, eating many fries and some of her grilled cheese. Oddly, she didn't really want any of my milkshake (which was the best part of the meal). We may go back there, but the prices were a little high for burgers that were only so-so. Abbey Road still has our burger dollar. It's a shame though, because this place is so close. I will say that when we crave a good shake, this place is the bomb.

Anyway, after dinner, we were off to Home Depot to select paint for Athena's new room. I was VERY glad that I had called Cathy (who is a graphic designer and talented arteeste!) before we left, because it turns out that the carpet samples I meticulously saved after we recarpeted the room almost two years ago (that is to say, the carpet scraps I threw into the garage) have completely disappeared. I'm fairly sure that in a fit of frustration one day when Chris was trying to locate something in our garage, he tossed them into the garbage. After all, why would we save something like carpet scraps?! *sigh*

So I called Cathy because I am completely clueless when it comes to color. I'm not color blind, but I have real trouble knowing what colors go with what. I can see two colors together and make them look good in my head, whether they actually do or not. Cathy, however, has the color wheel memorized, so I was able to vaguely describe the carpet color (a grey green... perhaps one might call it moss) and she was able to give me several suggestions of colors to look for. Her top choice was a lavender, followed by a yellow or a peach/apricot. The latter colors are all warm, however, and she recommended against using those in a bedroom.

I also knew we wanted Disney paint. This is because we used it in the nursery and it worked out very well, It's a Behr paint, so it's more expensive, but not much more, and the colors are true and even. Let's face it... Chris and I aren't professionals, so we can use all the help we can get. If only the paint were good enough to actually apply itself to the wall...

Anyway, while we are pulling lavender, yelllow, and apricot color cards at Home Depot (plus a blue one, which was what Chris really wanted), Athena suddenly, and without warning threw up (but you already know this from previous posts). So we quickly cleaned up as best we could, threw a few other supplies in the trolley, and headed back home.

She had quite a bad night as you know, but the next morning did well. I taped the room for painting, and Chris painted it while she napped. (We chose a light lavender, by the way... Cathy was right... it was the best match). Then we whisked her off to a birthday party, followed immediately by dinner out with friends and a very crowded hockey game.

This morning, I dragged her to a friend's house who wanted to give me a bunch of little boy clothes for He Who Must Not Be Named. Her son is now about six months old, and she is cleaning up. She also has a four-year-old daughter. They have MILLIONS of toys, so I figured Athena would be happy as a clam and Daddy could get some work done on her room without interruption. But she wasn't happy at all. She fussed and whined and generally expressed her displeasure at being dragged out YET AGAIN this weekend.

So we're home now. She is napping happily, and Chris has finished the second coat of paint in the nursery. It's lovely, by the way, and I can't wait until tonight when we can get the furniture back in there and arranged and start moving some of Athena's stuff (mainly her clothes) in there. I'd like to empty out the dresser in her room and start reloading it with all the little boy stuff in anticipation of our impending arrival.

So my lesson is learned. One or two activities for Athena per weekend. Period. Will make for a much happier little girl. And probably a happier Mommy and Daddy as well.

New Pic

At Staci's request, I'm posting a new picture. Sophie and Brian sent this to us from when we visited last weekend. Athena found their drink coozies and thought they would make excellent bracelets! She's so pround.

A Fresh Look at Chinese Water Torture

I suppose one of the most remarkable things about children is the way they bounce back from illness. 12 hours ago, Athena was a miserable little barfy blob of a kid, and this morning, she is active and laughing and... THIRSTY.

By 10pm, she had emptied her stomach and was trying to push even more out. But the nurses told us the best thing to stop the stomach contractions was to keep her stomach empty. No water. No crackers. Nothing. She was so tired that it didn't matter much to her, and sure enough, by midnight, she had stopped throwing up. The rule the nurses gave us was that two hours after her last convulsion, we could start giving her water... a TABLESPOON at a time.

Now, Athena is Chris' little girl. She loves to drink fluids. And she does so quickly, even under normal circumstances. So we couldn't just hand her a glass of water because she would chug it, and it very well might come back up... not accomplishing the hydration task at all.

So this morning, we gave her a thimble of water, and then had to wait 10 minutes to give her more. She was none too pleased. But then, 10 minutes later, we gave her a little more, which she chugged and started asking for more.

So here is the newest form of water torture. Give her a sip, then wait 10 minutes before giving her more. The question is, who is the most tortured... her, or us?

Any Moment Now...

...I shall be barfing. Athena has a stomach bug that has had her throwing up fruit chews and other nasty stuff since about 7:15. She really wants to be asleep, but her congestion is keeping her up and we can't give her medicine because she will throw it up. I also think the congestion is making her throw up. We've changed the sheets and the pillow, and she just finished a shower with daddy to try to clear her head the old fashioned way. She also threw up in the tub... when I was in it with her.

The nurse told us to wash our hands thoroughly. Unfortunately, I think we handled enough barf before then that it may have been too late. And let's not forget I bathed in it. I can't tell if I'm nauseated because I'm pregnant, sick from cleaning up barf, or just sick.

But I feel ooky, no doubt. Looks like our weekend of painting Athena's new room and going to birthday parties and hockey games may have just died.

Tag, I'm It... or is it YOU?!

I've been tagged by tempura73. These quizes are like crack aren't they? Fun to read... and really... who doesn't like talking about him or herself? Especially people who blog. So read through to the bottom and see who I tag.

What was I doing 10 years back:-
Gah! I'm pregnant! I can't remember what I was doing yesterday. Let's see...
1996, January. I was in Library school... halfway through it actually. I was living in the hood in Greensboro and working for a publishing company. I was also rehearsing for a musical revue... just about two weeks from opening. Which one would that have been? Hmmmm... I think it was the movie music revue. Or was it the Big Band revue? Well, sequins, spandex, and tap shoes were involved...

What I was doing ONE year back:-
January, 2005. Um... not much different from today. Except I wasn't pregnant. And my child wasn't walking yet... just crawling. Those were the days...

5 snacks that I enjoy:--
Yoplait Yogurt Whips (totally overpriced, but totally good)
Tostitos with mild cheddar dip
Cheese and Tricuits (Colby Jack)
Chocolate (preferably dark, but I'm flexible)
Cake (when I can get it)

5 Songs I Know All The Lyrics Off My Head Right Now:--
Oh, God. This is embarrassing:
Pretty much any Disney song
On My Own from Les Mis
You'll Never Walk Alone from Carousel
The Itsy Bitsy Spider
Frere Jacques (French and English)

5 Things I Would Do If I Was A Millionaire:--
Pay off all debt
Hire a housekeeper/maid (a frumpy one, before Chris gets his hopes up)
Quit my job
Buy a small winter home on Santorini
Set aside college money for Athena and He Who Must Not Be Named

5 Bad Habits: --
I have some that are so bad I won't mention them here, but here are the mentionable ones:
Interrupting people
Dropping my laundry on the floor
Letting my gas tank get dangerously low
Overeating
Procrastinating

5 Things I Love To Do:--
Spend time hanging out with Chris and Athena... either together or separately
Travel
Manicure and Pedicure
Crosstitch
SuDoKu
(Odd that reading doesn't make this list, eh?)

5 Things You Would Never Buy, Wear, or Get New Again:--
After March, Maternity clothes... although the pants are kind of comfy
Most books
Anything from Kohls Department Store (personal boycott... I'll tell you all about it one day)
A Mitsubishi (new or used)
A yellow dress

5 Favourite Toys:--
My laptop
My boardgames (all of them)
All my kitchen gadgets
Palm Pilot
Chris

Then select 5 people to pass this on to:
Okay... I HATE chains... but I am playing along because I like Tempura73 so much... (and it's hardly fair that she already tagged my hubby AND several of my friends...)
Girl from Texas
Alaskan Amy
Cathy the Blogger
Brant
RedJenOSU (if she even reads this)

Test Your Librarian Know-How

The best thing about my job is the Readers' Advisory portion of it. For those of you not up on your library jargon, this basically means "suggesting a book that someone will like based on their preferences (not yours)." The skills involved really come down to knowing how to ask the right questions and then having enough knowledge of "what's out there" to make some recommendations. There are plenty of databases and other tools out there to assist with this process. Even Amazon's "Readers who bought this also bought..." feature can come in handy.

This area of librarianship usually focuses on recreational reading... things we read not because we have to, but because we want to. It is usually fiction, but it certainly can be nonfiction. Most people read biographies and humor (think David Sedaris or Bill Bryson) for pleasure... they don't really mean to learn much or study a particular person. *end library lesson*

So yesterday, I had one of those great Readers' Advisory interviews with a patron, and I thought I would share it with you...

PATRON: Where do you keep your Tim Ford books?
EAF: Tim Ford? Is that the author? (searching the computer catalog)
PATRON: Well, it's either Tim Ford or Kim Ford. Can't remember which.
EAF: (not finding either in the catalog) Hmmm... And Tim or Kim wrote these books? Or was that a character in the books?
PATRON: *blinks* I think that was the author.
EAF: (searching on key words now instead of authors) Let's see... can you tell me anything about the books? Are they Fiction or Nonfiction?
PATRON: *blinks* My friend at the pool yesterday was telling me they are really good stories.
EAF: Ah... so are they true stories? Or made up stories?
PATRON: Oh, made up, I'm sure. Tim Ford. Or Kim.
EAF: I see. And do you know if they are love stories? Or maybe they are mysteries?
PATRON: They aren't mysteries!
EAF: Okay. Can you tell me anything else about them? Did your friend say why she liked them?
PATRON: She said they were very good. Very light and warm. So where are they? Your Tim Ford books?
EAF: Well, see... I can't see that we have books by either Tim Ford or Kim Ford, so I'm trying to think of what they might be. Sounds a bit like maybe Jan Karon's Father Tim series. Does that sound familiar? Are they set in North Carolina?
PATRON: Father Tim? Is his last name Ford?
EAF: Well, I'm not sure...
PATRON: Well, yes... the town is in the mountains of North Carolina.
EAF: Let's take a look at Father Tim then. (walking to the shelf with the patron). The first book in the series is checked out. But here is the second one. Do you think this is it?
PATRON: (reading the cover of the book) MITFORD! This is it!
EAF: Ah... Mitford is the town these books are set in! So let me put the first one in the series on hold for you!
PATRON: Thanks!

So had you figured it out?! As I look back over the conversation, I surprise myself that I picked out enough clues from this woman. When she said Tim or Kim Ford, I immediately thought of Jasper and Katie Fforde (no relation), who are both popular but write mysteries and romances respectively. But then just looking at her (she was probably in her 60s) and hearing "friend at the pool" (it's too cold to swim outside here now, so this means we were at some sort of water exercise class or indoor pool at a facility), I thought perhaps we were looking for something a little gentler... old fashioned. And Jan Karon just pops to mind.

Natural talent? Psychic? Don't know...

So, do you have the skills to be a librarian? :-)

My Husband and His Women

This post was partly inspired by some of the events of this past weekend in Charlotte (spent with some of our best friends and detailed quite well by my spouse here) and partly by a recent post by one of my "blog buddies" here. (By "blog buddy," I simple mean someone who I don't actually know personally, but who I know through reading her blog.) And know, before reading any further, that I in no way doubt my husband's love for me or his fidelity. I think sometimes one can come across as a bit insecure in a blog, and I would hate for you to think that I am actually pondering what day of next week my husband plans to leave me. Honestly, if he's put up with me thus far, I really can't imagine he's going anywhere. This is just fun for us to kid each other about. We do, in case you haven't noticed, take great pleasure in ribbing each other ruthlessly.

Chris and I have a running gag, if you will, in which he has some sort of action arranged on the side and I just shrug it off. For instance... he may tell me something that I know he has never told me before (because I do actually pay attention to what he says) and I tell him so. He then counters with "I'm sure I told you," to which I reply "That must have been your OTHER wife," or "That must have been your girlfriend." We have glorious yucks over that, and it generally mixes in well with the rest of our witty banter. There is also the comments made when my normal night shift is altered in some way, and I tell him he has to make arrangements for his girlfriend not to show up that night. Usually, he replies with something along the lines of, "Thanks for letting me know. I'll call them." hahahaha... what a guy... ;-)

Also, from the moment we met, I noticed that he flirts with waitresses. It is the absolute weirdest thing to me... of all species of women out there, and all the people he comes in contact with on a daily basis, he turns on the charm for restaurant personnel. Now, this is nothing against dining establishments and their employees. In fact, often these women are quite attractive, and my husband isn't the only one who notices. However, it struck me as especially odd because most people see him as a bit aloof and cold when they first meet him. Indeed, he does come across at many first meetings as a bit distanced and reserved. Some of my closest friends (especially one in particular who I will not mention by name so as not to embarrass her, but whose name rhymes with Cathy) thought he was a complete asshole (their word... not mine) when they first met him. Now they love him. So why he just oozes flirt juice whenever we are in a restaurant when he didn't even feel the slightest need to charm my closest friends is beyond me. And I love to rib him about it. He just shrugs...

And now lately, he has the ultimate female-luring pheromone there is--The World's Cutest Almost-21-Month-Old Daughter. Folks, this is no exaggeration. Women, especially women of the 18-year-old, model thin, belly-button pierced, not-naturally-blonde type, are completely drawn to our daughter and her doting father. And it NEVER FAILS.

Now, I will be the first to admit that there is really nothing sexier than a father doting on his child... especially if the child happens to be a cute little girl with wild hair and a dazzling smile. However, what I have observed since the birth of my child would make an excellent human sexuality and behavior thesis.

Basically, wherever we go with our little tot, at least one attractive woman will wave to her and talk to her and smile at her and at my husband. And this occurs whether I am present or not. I am generally not acknowledged. However, Athena is the center of attention, and the follow up looks are all for him. I finally just out and asked him this weekend if he has been training Athena to choose these women... and he weakly denied it. I'm still not so sure.

This weekend, we were sitting with our friends in Charlotte at a family seafood place chatting and laughing and eating. I noticed Athena was almost completely turned around in her booster seat waving and smiling at someone. I look up, and what do you know... in a restaurant full of people of all ages, shapes, and sizes... she was waving at the two most attractive, most 18-year-old women in the place. Now, tell me he isn't coaching her! :-)

So now I wonder... is a woman sexier if she has a strapping young infant son in her arms? We shall have to see...

State of the Pregnancy

Well, I'm now 31 weeks. (Full term, for those of you who have not had the pleasure of pregnancy, is 40 weeks). So I am in the final quarter of this blessed nine (10) months. The home stretch, if you will.

First, I should explain the nine (10) months comment. I borrowed this from Vicki Iovine, author of The Girlfriends' Guide to Pregnancy and other great books for pregnant women and new moms. She explains the mystery of calendar months vs. lunar months. A pregnancy is 40 weeks. In lunar months, this is actually 10 months, but on the wall calendar, it sort of looks like nine. The point is, it FEELS like 10 when you are actually experiencing it.

So I am seven calendar months pregnant, but almost eight lunar months. I had a doctor's appointment today which I completely forgot about until they called me 3o minutes after I was supposed to be there. I'd like to write this off as "pregnancy brain," but I think it's really more fair to call it "Elizabeth's normal scatter-brain."

Most doctors' appointments when you are pregnant are very "Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma'am." There are few pelvic exams during the nine (10) months... just a pap smear near the beginning and then near the end, they'll reach up in there to check for dilation and effacement (thinning of the cervix... just in case you are wondering). All the other appointments (once per month for the first 6 months, then twice a month until the last 6 weeks or so when you start going every week) are very predictable and boring, with a few little extra tests sprinkled in here and there for fun and for terrifying the poor mother-to-be. I'm done with all my tests, so now we just go through the routine... pee in a cup; get weighed; answer questions about pain, bloating, swelling, headaches, and fetal movement; get blood pressure checked; wait in an exam room on an uncomfortable table for five to ten minutes; get my belly measured; listen to the baby's heartbeat with a magic wand ultrasound thing; then ask the doctor any questions I might have. Ah, yes... the thrill of pregnancy.

My pregnancy is not very notable... which is how we like it. Once again, I have lost weight rather than gained it. I believe my total net weight gain since conception is now a whopping two pounds. This is the story of my life... when I am told by a medical professional to lose weight (as I almost always am), I cannot seem to do it. When I am encouraged to GAIN weight, however, I lose it without even trying. Talk about your anti-authority issues! It's completely innate in me, apparently.

My biggest concern at this point is the size of this little bundle of joy in my belly. I am already waddling... much worse than I EVER did with Athena. The doctor tells me my belly is measuring just slightly bigger than normal (it's about at one would expect at 32 weeks), but that's not really a major thing. And it isn't a good indicator of how big the baby actually is. But we do discuss it now, because Athena was so large (8 pounds 12 oz.). I am told that statistically, the second baby is normally 4 to 6 ounces heavier than the first. So worst case scenario (statistically) is 9 pounds 2 oz. And that's only statistically. Really, the sky is the limit. Um... holy crap, people!

So there is no test to determine how big the baby really is. We can do an ultrasound, but that's iffy because now that the bones are well-formed and calcified, it's harder to see anything. The doctor can palpate (fancy word for "poke") around the baby and guess at how big he is, which is about as scientific as closing one eye, holding your thumb up, and estimating the height of a tree. In fact, they did that with Athena just before she was born, and they guessed she was about 6 pounds, 8 ounces. So I just don't put much faith in palpating/poking.

My "doctor" is actually a whole practice. They have you meet with each doctor at least once during your nine (10) months so that you won't have a complete stranger deliver your baby. (You get whoever is on call). So two weeks ago, I saw a doctor who said that because of the possible size of "He Who Must Not Be Named," we should consider the possibility of inducing labor at 39 weeks. This week, the doctor said, well... there is no real scientific proof that it's better for mom or baby to induce. Now, I'm not really big on Pitocin, or any of the drugs used in labor and delivery. I did my first one naturally (although admittedly that wasn't by choice) and I want to do this one that way too. BUT... nine pounds is REALLY big. And Athena did plenty of damage down there when she came barreling out like an NFL Linebacker. So I'm not really keen on passing a huge baby either.

The decision for now is my favorite decision of all... not to decide. We'll just keep plugging along and growing a baby, and then when we get nearer to D-Day, we'll see where we are. Hopefully by then we will at LEAST have a friggin' name selected.