Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Week 10, Day 2: Belly Button Lint, Redux

This is the last of my pre-announcement pregnancy posts. It was written on October 9, when I was 10 weeks and 2 days along. I don't have an outie...YET...but at this rate, I might be sporting the equivalent of a third nipple by Christmas. Also, my farts remain pleasantly rosy and not at all lethal. 

Do you want to prevent teen pregnancy? Send them my way - they'll never have sex again.

I have proof that my belly is MUCH bigger MUCH faster this time around.

This happened in the shower this morning - SIX WEEKS EARLIER THAN LAST TIME. It wasn't nearly as satisfying to clean the goop out this time as it only had had 3 years and not 30 years to accumulate.

While Callum's and Jedi's due dates are 9 days apart, Callum was born at 41 weeks (OH MY GOD HARPOON ME NOW). So as far as I'm concerned, these pregnancies are almost exactly on track with each other, except that I'm fatter and bitchier earlier than before. Also, the gas isn't nearly as deadly...yet.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

We Might Need a New Bed

Chris's and my bed has been terribly squeaky (please insert lame sex joke here). So squeaky that it would wake me up at night when he flipflopped from side to side to side. Given that I'm already up once or twice a night peeing or tending to Callum, the squeaking was affecting my sleep. We narrowed the problem down to some loose screws and tightened them, but that seemed to make the problem even worse. With my parents in town this morning for a quick visit, Chris and I decided to separate the headboard from the side rails to see if we could identify the problem.

And we did: one side rail was cracked and not easily repaired by us. We decided to disassemble the bed (the side rails, foot board, and supports all match the headboard) and reattach the headboard to a generic frame that was stored in the attic above our garage.

Well, if Chris was going to be up there anyway, then he was going to take a box of Callum's not-needed-in-the-immediate-future baby items up there with him (just as soon as I found a box for them, since they'd been cluttering our bedroom for 6 months), and he was going to bring the Christmas tree and decorations down.

The baby box went up, the tree came down, but no bed frame was found.

Chris checked the shed - no bed frame.

Then we took the ladder to the side of the house to clean out the dryer vent. Because WHY NOT?!

We finally realized we had sold two frames to my co-workers - the one replaced by our lovely and now broken bed, and the one attached to our old full-sized bed that was replaced by the futon. Both frames were nearly brand new.

Fortunately, we have the frame we had planned to use with Callum's big boy bed for when we decide to lift the mattress off the floor. It doesn't have a place for the foot board, but will work for now. Except that it's old, and its holes don't match up with the holes on our head board.

So now we have no headboard, and I feel entirely unmoored from the rest of the room. We're just floating around while we sleep.

However, as it turns out, that bed was TOO damn big for our bedroom! We've gained all of one foot at the foot of our bed, and it feels like we've gained an acre! SO ROOMY! The bed sits lower too, which my unwieldy pregnant self will appreciate in a few months (the other bed was so high, I had to jump down). It provides much needed seating in our room - the perfect height for putting on shoes and tights!

Anyone here want to redesign our bedroom?

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Week 9, Day 5: Bizarro World

I wrote this on October 5. The weird dreams aren't as frequent as they were then. The dreams I remember now are [ahem] AWKWARD, feature overly complex time lines and stories, or are just so bizarre that they make no sense at all and aren't particularly funny. Strangely, Dooce keeps showing up.

OH HOLY NIGHT. My dreams? They are WEIRD. Vivid dreams are another well-known side effect of pregnancy, and they have hit me full force this time around. When I was pregnant with Callum, the only weird dream I remember was meeting our baby boy "Calvin" in a Burger King after our house burned down (this was before we knew we were having a boy and WAY before that boy had a name).

This time around? Every night is an adventure. Recent excursions have included:
  • Dooce (I think I was babysitting for her?)
  • Unicam Speaker Mike Flood spraying freon in the board room at work while I took minutes of the meeting. At first, I tried sitting by my former professor Dave Landis, but I was still affected, so I had to leave the room. I was comforted by a colleague and had to admit I was pregnant.
  • Terrorists burned down our house while we were in Ireland, though the basement and sub-basement (yes, a sub-basement) were livable. A melted oak chandelier rested where Callum's changing table once stood. Our house was on the same block as my parents' house. The media wanted a comment, but I was adamant that none of us talk to them as I didn't want to be portrayed as a victim.
  • I had the baby via c-section; it was a boy. I had no pain. Amalah and sweet baby Ike were in bed with me (she was comforting me like a sister might). To help us with nursing, the night nurse planted a nipple shield (gentlemen: follow that link at your own risk) on me while I was sleeping. When I awoke, that nipple did not look normal.
  • My friend Joanna decided to throw herself a wedding...much like people in the real world host a barbecue or invite people over to watch a football game. She married her husband (again), except the wedding was held in a cemetery/funeral home chapel. I drove my parents there in a firetruck. 
I'm thankful the dreams are just bizarre and not nightmarish. I don't dare try to analyze them; they are not grounded in any conscious reality. I probably remember them better because I wake up shortly thereafter needing to pee (AGAIN).

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Week 9, Day 3: HALLELUJAH!!

I don't really have anything to add here. Other than a bout of stomach flu, I've felt GRRRREAT ever since! Now I'm just waiting for an obvious jab to an internal organ as part of the Occupy Kimberly movement, though the placenta is situated such that I might not feel Jedi's pointy parts as strongly as I could.


The morning sickness has subsided. 


I woke up last Thursday (8 weeks, 6 days) and did not have the immediate urge to hurl. In fact, I felt great all day. And the next day too. And the whole weekend. And I think maybe I'm done with this bullshit. WHERE IS MY GOLD STAR?

Thank you, oh placenta of my womb and resident hormone factory, for firing up just in the nick of time. Stick tight to my uterus, stay away from my cervix, nourish my babe, and I'll see you in May.   

My food aversions remain plentiful, and anything dairy-related makes me queasy. I did enjoy half a bag of cheddar and sour cream Ruffles this afternoon, though that hardly qualifies as dairy. Milk? Yogurt? Cheese? NO THANK YOU.

In other news, I'm showing. I've been showing since...oh...a few days after I peed on the stick. It still looks like a beer gut/gas baby and not a preggo belly, and I'm running out of Regular and Not Obviously Maternity clothes very quickly. Also, I've gained a lot of weight since I was pregnant with Callum, and most of my old maternity clothes don't fit me. The Bella Band has been a godsend this time around, but let's face it: they don't make shirts and dresses with skinny ties in the back for non-pregnant women. Thankfully, it's been just cool enough to get by with cardigans and scarves and lots of black. LOTS of black.

Part of me wants to publicly announce this pregnancy now so I can wear WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT AND NO ONE WILL GIVE ME ANY SHIT. Alas, still a few more weeks to go until I am comfortable doing so.

File this under TMI: the gas this time is not nearly as vile or frequent (yet) as it was with Callum. Also: I miss my daily post-Starbucks poop. At this rate, I won't have another satisfying poop until I'm pushing this kid out.

I can't believe my grandma did this eight times.

Monday, November 7, 2011

The Shake Weight

After spending nearly the entire weekend in bed battling a stomach virus, I slept by myself in the basement last night so both Chris and I could get a decent night's rest. I awoke at 3am STARVING, warmed up a small bowl of leftover beef and noodles, and turned on the TV. It's a known fact that the quality of television programming drops exponentially after midnight, but this particular advertisement had me silently shaking with laughter.

If this six-minute workout was REALLY AND TRULY effective, every male over the age of 13 would be as ripped as the models.

Friday, November 4, 2011

What's Wrong with this Picture?

Given the company's companies' name, I suppose it would be difficult for a copy editor to notice the grammatical error.


P.S. This is a lame excuse for your ongoing use of that ridiculous apostrophe, though I appreciate the attempt. Another interpretation: you recognize that you have a problem and failed to correct it. That's not good customer service.

P.P.S. We love your winter coats!