Pregnancy Card

Tuesday, October 16th I had my 2 week visit with Dr. North. Everything went well, Reid’s heat rate was 143 bpm and I’m measuring 37 weeks which my doctor seemed happy about because he said at this point we just want her to get big. I have to remember though, he wants REID to get big not ME, so it’s not like I can have a free for all junk food fest. I did gain 5lbs over the last two weeks. I’m at 30lbs now and I’m still ok with sharing that publicly because I’m pretty sure I’d doubled that with Hill at this point. I think that extra fluid from stomach virus episode has packed back on. Yet, instead of it going back to my gut it seems to have come back in my face. I’m feeling a little face puff going on.

This pregnancy I’ve really not had any cravings, it’s been if you talk about it then it usually sounds good. Honestly I’ve dreaded eating time, not because I wasn’t hungry but the lack of good foods around the Land of Koz. I’ll let myself get to about 2:00 without lunch and still nothing sounding good since it’s either fried or fast food or I cook it myself and none of those options sound good or fun. Then I just have to go get something because I start feeling bad from starvation and the potential to blow away (yeah right.) I’ve been eating Subway more than normal. For some reason their tuna subs on fresh white squishy bread with pickles and mayo makes me really happy. I try to limit myself to one a week though because I think there are rules and regulations on tuna consumption and mercury or what not. I can’t keep up with the rules.

My biggest NEED (again) is cokes, but really only fountain cokes. I’m addicted. If you recall when I was pregnant with Hill I literally funded the reconstruction / remodel of our local Sonic. I think they may have a plaque on one of the stalls dedicated to Hill Hawkins. There is just something extremely special about the bubbly burn of that sweet scrumptious fountain coke. The first sip is always the best. Ahhh!
Ok, so let me get off of my floaty fizzy la la land cloud dream and try to refocus.

As my tummy grows larger some things are just getting harder. My legs are so freaking ashy because I just can’t muster up the energy or the momentum to rub lotion on them. Maybe because I can’t non-acrobatically get to them. Lord can only imagine how hairy my legs are - - and I still continue to wear dresses.
Same goes for my shoes. Today for example was a flip flop day. Go ahead and gasp, it’s after Labor Day and I’m wearing opened toed shoes…but not only that it’s flip flops and the mega shocker, I wore them to work. I triple dog dare you to say something to me about how uncouth that is. I’m a fashion police mess.

Need proof? The other night as my 2 year old said his “special prayer” segment of his nightly prayers he prayed for my hair to have a good day tomorrow. Ikes, when your 2 year old prays for your hair, you are a hot mess. Then last weekend he wanted me to come color with him, so I came in his room and he looked at me dressed in a tshirt and panties and said, Mama you gotta put on some pants to color. I’m not too sure whose heart to bless, mine or his.

Other than the big blah portion of pregnancy I have to admit that I will miss this being the last rodeo of my ever being pregnant again. Plus you get to play the pregnancy card. This can be used in emotional situations, looking like trash situations, I don’t feel like doing what you want me to situations, comedic situations, the whatever pregnant lady situations, and the list goes on. It’s great. Most people are nice to pregnant people….most.

For example: Before I was really really showing, but still looking pregnant I was shopping at WalMart and had to get a 40lb bag of dog food. I asked a guy if he could help me lift it into my shopping cart and you’d have thought I ruined his life. He did it, but he was awkwardly and obviously not happy about it. I thanked him then mentally kicked him in the knee and called him a punk.

Yet then you have the genuinely nice folks that don’t think twice about diving into a kind deed nor do they have to be asked. Same scenario; WalMart & dogfood but this time I had oodles of groceries too. I was checking out and hear the sweet voice of Mrs. Mary Tyler at the register next to me. “Hello, Rachel!” When I look over Mr. Toby is standing there with her. Toby is my most faithful blog fan. We exchanged salutations and next thing I know Toby has my shopping cart half way out the door pushing it to my car and is unloading it into my trunk. You have no idea how big of a help that was. My WalMart trips are usually a minimum of an hour long, as I go as infrequently as possible. Couple that with 9 months pregnant on my feet pushing a heavy cart around for an hour…not fun. Thanks Toby for helping a poor girl out! You surely made my day….and the blog!

Also, you become the comedic relief as the big pregnant lady. You must have a good sense of humor though some pregnant people could take offense to certain situations. After my doctor’s appointment yesterday I had to go to Bed Bath & Beyond. The cleaning lady unraveled the hose to my vacuum cleaner…I still can’t figure out how she did that. Anyway, her suggestion was to go to WalMart and get another hose. Little did she know (and I don’t mean to sound like a douche bag) but my vacuum cleaner costs $400. I can’t go to WalMart and buy a freaking hose. I think her world fell into a downward spiral with the unspiralling of the vacuum hose. She could not function to clean, it was quite hilarious and I thought she was going to just have to leave. I reminded her she had a broom and dustpan. Maybe that was unsympathetic of me, but she totally lost all sense of cleanliness without a functioning suction hose. I’ve digressed, guess you had to be there.

I walk into Bed Bath & Beyond and I didn’t know if I had a pig on my head or a booger on my face, but it seemed as though everyone just dropped everything and busted out laughing at the pregnant lady rolling in a vacuum cleaner. I’m sure it was a sight. It probably seemed as though I was ravenously nesting and cleaning my house and broke the Dyson. The customer service lady didn’t ask any questions just simply had me go get a new one. I’d expected to have them just replace the hose or whatever, but nope, go get yourself another $399 in the box vacuum cleaner little lady. So, props to BB&B and Dyson warranty for making this pregnant lady happy.

Then there are the people that just go ahead and appease the pregnant lady. That was my next stop at Belk department store. I had to go buy a wedding present. I found what I wanted to give the couple. Had the employee take me to it then noticed it was on sale (off $30.) Bonus for this tight wad! But it doesn’t stop there. I asked how it works when you buy a gift but they live in a different town. Can they ship it for me? He said, sure it will be $8 to ship. I thought for a second then said, is this sale online too? Yes, maam. Ok well why don’t I just go online and buy it and have it ship for free. Thanks for your time. I’m sure he was like cheap ass lady. I just totally pulled that out of my hat though – I didn’t know if they had free shipping or not. Most people do so I just assumed. Well my assumption was correct. Long story short, dude waived the shipping fee. Then as the cashier next to him was flipping through the Belk catalog I saw a coupon. I said, and I’ll need you to scan that 15% off coupon too, Thanks. So long story short, appease the pregnant lady and she will get $40 off her purchase and save $8 in shipping. I love a good haggle. When I lived in Ecuador, my host family would crack up at how much I didn’t spend on things at the market. It became a game. They would joke that even the locals couldn’t get as good of a deal as I did. Those were some of my prouder moments. Ha!

Then there are the don’t pass judgment moments of pregnancy. After I had a profitable morning I was hungry so I decided pasta would be good, Oh maybe my favorite bowtie pasta Caesar Salad. Maybe even some tiramisu from my favorite tiramisu joint in Jackson, Amerigos! So, I sat at a table for one with my gestating self. They plopped some homemade bread in my face and I ate every bit of it. They brought me my huge salad, I ate every morsel and then he brought me my ticket.
Ok, I was full and I’m sure the guy was like there is no way this lady can eat anymore - she’s made 2 happy plates from everything I’ve stuck in front of her. Then I guess he saw the look of sadness in my eye as he handed me my ticket. He said, “Oh, would you like dessert?” as he placed the check into my hand. I said, nah, I shouldn’t. After all maybe it was a sign. I was full but I really did just want a taste of the tiramisu in my mouth. I took the check. Buzz kill.
Then after he checked on the table next to me I stopped him and said, I do! I do want dessert! I asked if I could get a half an order of tiramisu and he said no you have to order the whole thing. So. I. Did. As he set it in front of me I looked up at him and let him know how this works. You see Trevor (that was his name), I’m going to eat this whole thing. The entire plate. I have no doubts. Please don’t pass judgment on me, I’m a good person. Trevor assured me all was well. And I did. I ate it all. I think Trevor may have expected me to lick the plate. I really feel like he and the whole kitchen and patrons watched me in amazement as I waddled out of there after demolishing a plate of bread, a big bowl of salad and the huge tiramisu. It was divine and I don’t care. Yum-o.

Continuing on to my next stop and the passing judgment / comic relief card. The liquor store. We’d bought a bottle of wine that had evidentially gone bad. They guy at Joe T’s usually has a pretty good list of things he likes that we do too. So we were extremely surprised to open a nasty vinegary tart wine that he’d recommended. Chip noticed the cork was odd so I decided to take it back and ask.

Side bar: Yes, I have an occasional glass of wine. No I don’t really feel like I need to explain it to you as I’m not a bad mother and No my child will not have fetal alcohol syndrome because it’s touched my lips while she was in utero. Now that that’s established…

I felt hilariously secure about walking in to the liquor toting a bottle of wine with my abnormally large belly and explaining how I didn’t think it was good. Joe T’s guy said, it was one of his favorites and as he tried to uncork it the cork broke in half and he assured me that it must have been a bad bottle and replaced it. That may have been a first for him, it was for me, but for some reason I bet I’m not the first pregnant person to walk into a liquor store. I may be the first pregnant non crack head to walk into the store and in my defense I did not buy Mad Dog 20/20, I promise. I’m responsible.

After these crazy events of random things that morning I went into the Madison office to see some folks. My boss was there and we had some things to discuss and it was good to see all the good people of Highland Colony. I work with some super fantastic people, I swear. I’m so lucky. It was Boss’s Day and I didn’t know it until after I’d left so I emailed my boss and told him oops, Happy Boss’s Day! He assured me that Hallmark made that day up and it was no biggie but he appreciated my appreciating him. He’s a keeper.

So on my way home I started thinking about my doctors’ appointment earlier that morning. I had asked about how exactly the tying of the tubes works, when he does it, how he does it, will I be awake, how much more pain will I be in, how much longer will I be down, etc. He went through the procedure and assured me that I’d have a normal c section recovery with no extra down time, but just to not rush it. I asked how long before I could drive and he said 6 weeks is the norm for c sections. I said, whoa Nellie, I certainly don’t remember it being that long last time. He chuckled and said I probably broke the rules, but it could be like 3-4 weeks of no driving before I feel better anyway. Oh my goodness. That’s horrific. I thought 2 weeks was the norm? Anyway, look out roads I’ll be hitting you sooner than later because I’ll be breaking the rules, seemingly again. If I waited the full 6 weeks that would be like putting me on the road a week before I go back to work. That’s terrible. I can’t be cooped up in my house for ALL the holiday season. So, if you are out and about looking at Christmas lights please swing by my house and pick me up. I’ll provide the wine......

Normal People

I often wonder what it would be like to be normal or even see what a normal person looks and acts like.

I’m pretty sure normal people don’t get phone calls in the middle of the day from their spouse that goes like this…

Husband: Hey, are you in front of your computer?
Wife: Yes
Husband: Ok look this up and tell me how much it’s worth. Blah blah blah random info.
Wife: Umm, that’s an airplane.
Husband: I know.

Most people find good deals on a blender or a piece of furniture, maybe even a used car. Chip on the other hand has taken it upon himself to find his way into a good deal on an airplane.
I have figured out how he ticks and he has figured out how to present things to me in a manner where I don’t shoot him down or divorce him before the sound “air-pah” comes out of his mouth.

Little known FACT: We both hate to fly.

So, are we getting an airplane? No. I’m always the devils’ advocate when my husband gets giddy. I’m not saying I’m always the rational one, but mostly I am. (Scary thought huh?) Any investments we make have to have conditions. Mine were as follow.

1. The airplane has to be sold before he actually purchases it
2. You must make my dad be part of the deal

You see when you list conditions like that. If it’s meant to be then it will happen at little or no risk. I consider my dad to be a savvy wheeler and dealer, like my husband, and my dad is more apt to know the clientele for an airplane because I certainly don’t. Nor do I want to find a place to house a plane. It’s not like it will just sit in the garage for a few months until it’s sold. Wouldn’t that be a pisser having to pull up in your drive way every day after work to see this airplane that you can’t fly or don’t even want to fly; it would be like this huge elephant in the room. Hey. It’s. An. Ummm. Airplane.

See. That’s just not normal.

When I hung up the phone Chip was about to call my dad to pitch an airplane investment to him. Wonder how you start that conversation? Well, I guess my dad is just as use to it as I am?

I’ll let you know if anything comes to fruition from it. Not all the hair brained ideas Chip has come to reality - - if they did we’d be the poster child for that American Pickers show....or possibly Hoarders.

Reid’s Stats & "Mama Do It"

We are trucking right along in the baby growth department. Here are the stats over the past month from my doctor appointments

September 4th: Reid’s heart rate was 144 bpm and although I was only 29 weeks I was measuring 32.

September 18th: Reid’s heart rate was 145 bpm and although I was only 31 weeks I was measuring a little better – only a week ahead to 32 weeks. This was due to having the stomach virus the week before and losing so much fluid (puffiness) during that time. I’d only lost about a pound by appointment time even though I know I had lost 6 within those 24 horrendous stomach bug hours.

October 1st: Reid’s heart rate was 138 bpm and I am 33 weeks and still measuring a week ahead at 34 weeks. I had not gained any weight since my last visit and so that makes nearly a month of maintaining my weight.

I'm pretty sure I'd gained 6,000 lbs by this point with Hill. I'm right at about 25 lbs so far with Reid. It sure feels like and I'm sure looks like 6,000 though.

I go back on the 16th and then it’s every week from then until B-day November 12th (only 5 more weeks.)
I am very excited, very nervous and very anxious to see how this all affects Hill. He is such a mama’s boy that I worry.

I’ve been intentionally NOT doing things just so Chip can step in and take over (which he gladly does) and Hill can add to his vocabulary, “No! Daddy do it!” Instead of, “No! Mommy do it!” Time to put on socks, “I want mama do it.” I want some juice, but mama has to get it. Buckle your car seat…only if mama gives me five first. I am a part of EVERY process and quite frankly I am exhausted. I think I could probably sleep standing up these days.

Bath time night before last was grueling. I sat in the living room and listened to Hill disobey Chip time after time. I didn’t intervene, yet it was obvious both boys patience were wearing thin. Then when it came time to get out of the bath tub, “I want mommy to get me out.” Chip came to get me and I said…….No. (insert deep drum DOM DOM DOM sound here) I don’t think I’ve ever set two boys off in a simultaneous tirade by simply not taking responsibility. Thereafter, I had to endure the sound of spankings on a wet hiney and crying – which might have been Chip. Then when the house got totally quiet I worried thinking one had killed the other. I held my breath. Got up. Walked in the hallway and bumped into Chip who had his hands in the air…literally. I walked in Hills room to a wet naked boy with a red hiney laying on his bed upset. Broke my heart, but he’s so bull headed…which he gets honestly. After talking to Hill about everything and making sure he understood what just happened and why…he got up and went and told his daddy, “thank you for giving me a bath and I sorry.” Chip too apologized to Hill and to me (as I got blamed for setting this chain of events off since I wouldn’t get him out of the tub) and all was well with the world.

It was a healthy session for everyone. Even me as I sat back and didn’t do anything. Hill got to see that he can’t always call the shots and Chip got to see that you can’t always expect a 2 year old to comprehend why things aren’t a certain way. I had a hard lesson of deep breathing and not wanting to jump up and fix it.

Pray for our progress. I certainly have had a hard time being a little more disconnected than usual. Don’t get me wrong, I play and love and ‘nuggle’ with my noggin’ I’ve just had to take a couple steps back and let Chip in on all the fun too. I thrive on jumping up to play trucks or sing songs or play puzzles or guess which sippy cup he wants by trying to read his mind. I just need him to understand that I don’t always have to be the one to do things, his daddy WANTS to do them too.

I think Hill is understanding that Reid will be coming soon. He walked in her room the other day and asked me if she would cry. I assured him she would. Then he was generous enough to give up his brown reading chair to put in her room. I’d mentioned it before. It’s his happy place and I didn’t want to take it away from him because he loves us to sit there and rock and read. Then Whitney offered to let us borrow a different chair, Hill said the new chair could go in his room and the brown rocker could go in Reid’s room. Which was fantastic all the way around. I draped the same blankets over his new chair so it would seem them same and moved the rocking chair to Reid’s room. I placed an old afghan that my great aunt Helen had made over the top of the rocker in Reid’s room and Hill noticed it. He liked it better than his blanket because it was bigger and had tassels that he said looked like balloons. He asked if he could have that blanket on his chair instead, he would share it with her though.

All this to say he's sweet enough to give up his things for something he truly doesn't understand yet and yesterday I asked him what he was going to do when Reid got here. He said, “I nuggle her and share my blanket” I almost cried. I love it that he includes her in his prayers every night like she’s already here. I love it that he knows she’s in my tummy but doesn’t ask how she’s getting out. I love it when he sees something baby related, gift, blanket, toy he asks if it’s Reid’s. He knows a change is coming, I just don’t think he understands the magnitude of it.

Transitions and changes are always hard for everyone and adjustments will have to be made. It doesn’t matter if you are 99, 35 or 2, it’s going to be different and take some getting used to. This is a positive change and we cannot wait for Reid Catherine to get here!

Here’s to a new adventure in only 5 more weeks!

Don't Mind If I Do...

Had a little time between doctors appointments today and thought I'd take advantage of a little "me" time. It was way over due.
Poor guy that had to touch my feet. I tipped him really well.