Me Next!

I'm so excited that my sister-in-law had her baby very early Tuesday morning! So early, in fact, that it was still Monday night for me on the West coast. I'm sad that I can't be there to meet the little guy and to help her with her daughter while they adjust, or bring over dinner, or whatever they need. She went home from the hospital today and I'm jealous. I'm jealous that she has her precious new baby to snuggle. That she can finally hold him.  I'm jealous that her family can finally settle into a new normal with that much more love in their home.

But I'm also jealous that she's not pregnant anymore.

I'm crabby. I know. Aside of all the stress my pregnancy has caused with abnormal blood work, abnormal ultrasounds, high(er) blood pressure, etc I'm also just having a rough time.  

My back hurts like crazy, nausea has come back full force at 28 weeks, the pelvic pressure makes me want to never walk again, I can't sleep, and whomever said Braxton Hicks contractions don't hurt was a liar.

I didn't get any of this with Caleb. At this point I was feeling pretty well. I was huge, but good. I never got Braxton Hicks contractions, my blood pressure was controlled, it was so easy. I didn't realize how easy it was at the time. I still hated being pregnant, but it was nothing like this.  

Maybe I'm just a whiner. I know I'm not the first pregnant lady to complain about back pain. But sometimes the back pain and the abdominal pain are just too much and all my 3 year old wants to do is play cars and I can't get off the couch. I'm miserable.

Caleb was also an easy baby. I really hope this isn't a sign of what she will be like as an infant.

Happy Birthday

Monday was my birthday. I'm officially older than 30. Ok, only by a year, but still. Now I'm not 30, I'm in my thirties. I don't really feel any different but I'm pretty sure my lack of sleep makes me look older.

I had a pretty good day. I worked, which was fine because if I had stayed home I would have been alone and doing dishes and laundry. I definitely didn't want to spend my birthday like that. When I got home Brian made sure I didn't have to cook and Caleb brought me a new purse full of goodies, including a giant bag of peanut M&Ms. He's a boy after my own heart, and I'm pretty sure his Daddy had something to do with it.

They even bought me a giant chocolate caramel cupcake and put candles in it. So far, 31 is better than 30.

Depends on what you mean by "problem"

The other day a Facebook friend of mine posted a status about her Christmas problem. Her problem being that it's the middle of August and she already has Christmas done. Not done as in presents bought. No, I mean she has blueprints of how the furniture will be rearranged to accommodate the tree, which is already decorated in her head (from her labeled ornament boxes which are organized by shape, size, and color). Not only does she know what she will be serving for Christmas Eve dinner, she knows who will bring what dish and I'm pretty sure she has a seating arrangement. She has a baking schedule and plans for homemade wreaths and garland. She has already sewn new drapes that will match the holiday decor and is making advent calendars.

That's a Christmas problem.

Or is it? Year after year I tell myself I will have a plan. Next year will be different. I will get it together. If I were as organized as she is I wouldn't be running to the post office on December 15 with a stack of Christmas cards that I hope all have stamps on them. Inevitably there will be at least 2 that didn't get a stamp because I ran out and all the post office has left on December 15 is the Madonna with the creepy baby that nobody else wants.

If I had a well thought out plan like my friend does I wouldn't be scrambling to get my cookies baked on December 23 before the family party where I will be handing them out as gifts. I wouldn't need to go to three different grocery stores to get everything I need to make/bake my assigned dish for dinner because I would have gotten it before Thanksgiving.

So maybe being done with Christmas in the middle of August isn't such a bad thing. Maybe I should take a few pointers from my friend and actually get it together this year. After all, on top of the regular Christmas craziness I'm going to have a newborn which will only further complicate the ability to get things done.

I think this year for my birthday I will buy myself holiday stamps. 

Bye Bye Binkie

Caleb gave up the binkie. Reluctantly, and really without much of a choice, but it's gone.

We've tried to get rid of the binkie before and I felt like we were traumatizing him. He just wasn't ready. When pre-school started in July we decided not to let him take the binkie with him. He would have to do naptime at school without it. And he did, every day without difficulty he took a nap with no binkie. At home was another story. The more I read into when it becomes a problem for tooth development and speech impairment I decided it was still ok as long as it was ONLY for bed (check) and as long as he wasn't trying to talk with it in his mouth. Ding! Problem. Just because the binkie went in the mouth at bedtime didn't mean he stopped talking. And no amount of effort on our part could get him to stop talking with it.

So I sabotaged it.

Friday afternoon while Caleb was at school I cut two tiny slits in the binkie rendering it useless for soothing sucking. At bedtime when he asked for it I gave it to him like nothing was wrong, like every other night. We started reading a story and he chewed on it funny. He stopped me from reading and said "can you wash this please?" So I did, and kept reading. He stopped me again, "Can you wash it again? It needs water." I did. Then he said "Maybe I can wash it?" Sure. I let him do that twice and we got back to reading. "Something is wrong with my beedy. Look. And it sounds funny." I gave it a once over like I had no idea what was going on, didn't make a big deal out of it. "I'm sure it's ok."

"No, mamma, it's ruined."

"Oh no, it must be broken. What should we do?"

"Nothing. Lets do nothing."

So he set it down next to him and I finished the story. Bed time took about 45 more minutes after the story but he never but the binkie back in his mouth. He just let it sit there next to him, as if that were comfort enough. In the morning when he asked for it I reminded him that it was broken. He said he was sad. I told him was sad, too.

"What should we do with a broken binkie?"

"Throw it away."

And he ran into the kitchen and threw it in the trash. I told him how proud I was of him for being such a big boy and did a little happy dance when he couldn't see. Saturday night he didn't want to go to bed and we both fell asleep on the couch. But he only asked for the binkie once and let it go when I reminded him that it was broken. We'll see how tonight goes. No turning back now, though. It was the only binkie he had, and it's in the trash.

Thanks, Old Man

Normally when I get on the road, freeway or otherwise, I get frustrated when I get stuck behind some old man in a hat going 15 under the speed limit. Today was different. Today I realized that old man is probably doing us all a favor.

Maybe he realizes that he isn't as sharp as he once was and that his reaction time is slower. Perhaps he is aware of how much traffic is different now than when he learned to drive. He probably embraces life more than any of us and has a lot less of it left. He's probably not in a rat race hurry to get anywhere like the rest of us. So he drives slowly and carefully and that's actually better for everyone.

So next time you get behind an elderly person going annoyingly slow when you just HAVE to be somewhere RIGHT NOW don't speed up until you're on their bumper and then zip around them. Do not yell obscenities to yourself (you look crazy) or gripe about "when I get old." Instead, thank that elderly person for recognizing their limitations and let them know you appreciate that they are only going the minimum required legal speed. No, don't say that. You'll get hit with a cane. Seriously though, don't be so quick to anger. If they were going any faster they might actually hurt someone.

Punk teenagers who drive with their legs in the front seat and torso in the back seat while listening to the radio with the bass so loud that it makes their '98 Honda with spinner rims rattle, now they are another story. Pull up your pants.

Not a party for anyone

I was out of town for a few days for seminar which happened to be in Las Vegas. Who doesn't want 4 days in Vegas when work is paying for the seminar that is only 4 hours each day? I'll tell you who. This pregnant lady.

Walking around in 105 degree weather watching your feet swell with every step while staying at a crappy hotel is not fun at all.

The seminar itself was great and I'm really glad I went. Three of my co-workers went as well and it was great to hang out with them outside of work. I was kind of looking forward to sleeping in and relaxing, Brian even encouraged me to get a massage and a pedicure. None of that happened.

The hotel bed was ridiculously uncomfortable and I didn't sleep well all weekend. The air conditioner in my room sounded like a freight train. I had to get up in the morning or I didn't have time to eat before the seminar. The food and the service at the hotel were disgusting so we walked to nearby restaurants. The only place I was willing to walk to for a pedicure was dirty and charged triple what I was willing to pay. And on and on and on.

Plus it's been decided that I am never allowed to go to Vegas without Brian ever again. He gets injured every time I do. This time he broke his hand. Yes, I'm sure that bright orange cast that was put on two days before I left made bath time with a three year old much easier.

Oh, hi.

Update blah blah. I know, I've been absent. I've also been so exhausted that at the end of the day when I have time to blog, after Caleb has gone to bed and Brian has gone to work, after the laundry is done (or at least in the dryer), after the dishes have been washed and the toys picked up, I can barely keep my eyes open. Forget writing complete thoughts for a blog.

So, in the last two weeks what's new? I feel like saying "nothing, what's new with you?" Such a conditioned response. Life is just life, something special or worth sharing with the world doesn't happen everyday. I give bloggers who write every single day a lot of credit. Not only for coming up with a captivating topic but for finding the time.

Most notably over the last two weeks I spent an afternoon in the emergency department. I wouldn't have gone on my own but my doctor thought I should go. I called the office with complaints of chest pressure and pain with deep breaths. She said to come in and wanted to see me. After getting there and describing all my symptoms she sent me to the ED to make sure I didn't have a blood clot in my lung.

I got right in and they ran some tests. The doctor there was reserving the cat scan as a last resort because I'm pregnant but that is really the best way to check for a clot in the lung. All my other tests came back negative so he felt comfortable not doing a CT and sent me home.

I'm actually feeling better, the chest pressure is gone and I can take a deep breath now. I still get very short of breath very easily. I cleaned the house yesterday and it took forever because I had to keep stopping to rest. It's frustrating, and I feel so dumb for going to the ED. To be fair, though, I wouldn't have gone on my own. I only went because my doctor seemed really concerned and told me to go. So, can I bill her for my co-pay?