Swirling

Well, it went from summer to Fall in 3.2 seconds. They're calling for FROST in the far-outlying areas tonight. I do not live in a far outlying area, so no frost for me, but still. I have this theory that it always snows once before Halloween and it will also always be 80 once in October. So, there you go. I remember that the first weekend in October last year was 90 degrees (we were apple picking) and the weekend before Halloween was hotter than Hades (we were at Boo At The Zoo). I felt bad for all the kids in plush costumes. So sweaty.

On to other news, another Thursday, another doctor's appointment. My blood pressure is steady at 115/60, where it has been every day of my life. My weight, however, is not so steady. It's climbing at an alarming rate now. I'm up over 30 pounds total so far. I still have up to 7 weeks to go. At the current rate, I could end up packing on 60 pounds! But I won't. You are my witnesses.

I mentioned the Braxton Hicks contractions that are so bad I think I am in labor when then come (but they do always go away with some walking). If I didn't have placenta previa, he probably would have checked my cervix. As it was, he told me to stay pregnant for 2 more weeks (as if I can control it! I told him to keep me pregnant for 4 more!) and get an ultrasound to check placental placement and cervical length, so I'm going for another ultrasound next week. I go back for another doctor visit in 10 days. My husband is scheduled to work the midnight shift next week for 11 consecutive days (this is how he is earning paid time off after the baby comes). I need to call in the cavalry because dinner, evening routine, bath, jammies, books, etc take its toll on my body. Mom, Mother-in-Law, etc will all be contacted for help picking child up from day care and bringing me dinner. I know it sounds like I have it easy, but really, I need to stay pregnant for two more weeks and I need help. If cervical length is shortening, I am going to be smacked onto bed rest next week, so I need a plan.

I watched some of the Vice-Presidential debate last night. Biden called people in Bosnia bosniaks, which is apparently a correct thing to do, but I always thought they were Bosnians. Palin was folksy, they say. She was real. Some of her personality shined through. That's nice. I'm all for authentic. Biden's a fine guy too, but I'm not so keen on the governmental intervention into my life (no taxes, boo hiss).
I'm reminded of an episode of pandering from the Simpson's.

Kang [running for President]: Abortions for all!
[crowd boos]
Very well, Abortions for none!
[crowd boos]
Abortions for some, miniature American flags for the others!
[crowd cheers and waves tiny American Flags]

Well, that's all I have for now and my formatting got all messed up, so I bid you adieu for today. Wish me a fine weekend. We have FAMILY FUN night tonight and maybe some apple picking tomorrow. And then, baked apples...mmmmm.

Seriously, it's October

So, well, where did summer go? Oh yes, that's right, I spent my summer being pregnant, traveling, experiencing bad weather, and various and sundry other things. And now it is Fall.

Only 31 days until Halloween and Chuckles would like to be a Race Car Driver (but not Speed Racer nor Ricky Bobby). So, we bought him a helmet at the fly-by-night costume shop that sprang up in a strip mall near our home, and I've decided to let him wear his Race Car Driver pajamas that day. Now, I just need stickers from sponsors to stick to his jammies. So creative.

Since his little wallopping expedition, CHuckles has not wailed on any more kids at school. He is reminded every morning not to touch the other kids and to obey his teachers. Good times. He has defied a teacher every day since then but he comes clean when you pick him up and says, "I yelled at Miss Kelly today." Well, the honesty is a nice touch.

I'm almost 33 weeks now. Things continue to progess but I have nothing to report. Baby changes position frequently and has not gone head down (which, frankly, does not matter since the c-section will take care of that). It hurts to sit for long periods of time without shifting and fidgeting. Walking is fine. Standing is double plus un-good. A few times a week I wake up in the middle of the night convinced I am in labor but really, I just need to pee and am having contractions of a non-regular, non-productive nature.

I mentioned the mosquitoes, yes? Well, yesterday at about 6:15 am on my way to work, I drove through the cloud of a truck spraying to rid the neighborhood of said mosquitoes. I closed my vents and held my breath until I was well-passed there, but you know, I drove through a cloud of insecticide.

It's raining today. The floodwaters receded but they are rightthere at the edge of the pavement, in the backyard, just under the bridge. I really don't want a repeat of what happened before and I am sure the people's whose homes were detroyed don't want that either. I hope the rain stops soon.

The new season of Chuck is back on nbc. I watched it on streaming video at nbc.com yesterday and it did not disappoint. It's not a realistic show. It's a fun comedy romp with an action angle. And there is all this unrequited I just can't shake. I love the unrequited.

I bought Chuckles some Carters pajamas at Kohl's and since it's been chilly the last few nights, he's been wearing them. He loves them and calls them his soft pants and tells me that they are as soft as his ding, which is truly high praise. Praise of the highest.

I went to Goodwill this weekend and let Chuckles pick out some books (we got 19 new books). Several of them are children's Bibles. He likes boats so he always wants the story about Noah. He also likes jungles, so he's been asking for the Garden of Eden story a lot and I have the hardest time refraining from adding baum-chicka-bow-bow when the serpent gives Eve the apple and she eats it, if you know what I mean, wink-wink. I'm a horrible person.

And in conclusion, I am a horrible person. But, I am a Libertarian and I am glad the Wall Street Bail-Out failed to pass. And I think that bankers who gave 120%, $0 down, interest only, stated income mortgages to anyone deserve what they get. And to the people who took out those loans...you obviously could not afford what you were buying, are you really that dumb? Or greedy? Then you too get what you deserve. I'm a horrible person, I know, but I've never taken out anything but a 30-year fixed rate mortgage with 20% down. And usually, I buy a house that costs half of what I could be approved to borrow. Oh, and lest you think I'm truly horrible and only enjoy the misery of others, I'll have you know that I am losing a bundle in my 401(k) every single day here (except yesterday when I made money, but not nearly as much as I lost on Monday).

Oh, and the secret to motherhood is cassroles made with a can of Cream of Mushroom soup.

It's Never the Thing You Worry About

Locusts - pshaw. My mosquitoes can carry your locusts away. We have mosquitoes. Not just at dusk, either. We have bold, brazen, daytime biting mosquitoes. There are skeeters everywhere. Chuckles was in the grass for 22 seconds and came out nibbled to death. There are mosquitoes in the car, on the front door, covering the grass, in the bushes, lurking in the shadows just waiting to do me harm. And yet, few of them are biting me. The Man and the Boy are being eaten alive, but preggo lady is happily unaffected (mostly, and in comparison).

I have given up cutting the grass. I have also decided that the toenails I painted for the wedding last weekend are the last toenails I will be painting until December. Further to that I got an ingrown hair below the Mason-Dixon line and I had to get out a hand mirror to see it. Apparently, the Battle of the Bulge has been lost and the Baby won. 5 pounds of baby sticking straight out in front. As in, perpendicular to my body.

I have a long torso. I cannot wear a one-piece bathing suit without digging my suit out of my derriere for the entire day. Consequently, there is a large amount of space between the bottom of my (totally ample but well-supported) rack and the start of my Bulge. People keep asking me if I have dropped. Nope. Haven't dropped. I just keep my babies between my knees. I carry low. Low, low, low. I'm sitting here right now (slightly reclined) and my baby is resting on my thighs. It's an icky, gross feeling but the baby leaves my internal organs and my lungs alone, so I can't complain.

We switched to digital broadcast TV a few months back and the switch has left me with spotty ABC coverage. So, I was watching Grey's Anatomy last night while ignoring pleas for a 4th bedtime story, and Christina and Meredith were talking or fighting or something outside, the screen froze for a bit, and the next thing I know there was a giant icicle in Christina's abdomen. OK, then. I turned the TV off shortly after that because it would be too entirely frustrating to try and watch that. At least Chuck is on NBC (on Monday after 9 months of hiatus).

Chuckles is embracing all that is 3. He is three. And so good at being three. We got a report from school yesterday and he pounded (repeatedly) on a classmate who would not give up a toy. He had to be removed bodily. While in the Director's office, he was screaming full on at her. She noticed his tonsils are swollen (I'd thought so too and asked the ped and was told he has big tonsils that don't seem to cause a problem), and was quite concerned. So, my kid is a menace who may or may not have unusually large tonsils. And he's coming in to his bad behavior right before I bring a new baby home. Great. Good timing there.

When Chuckles eats his green beans or stays dry overnight, I tell him "Good Job!". I made myself a little bowl of ice cream the other night. He asked me where it went. I replied that I had eaten it and was finished. I was rewarded with, "Good Job, Mommy!"

No longer waiting for the locusts

The locusts never showed, but homes did start exploding seemingly at random. Possible natural gas. Big fun.

The waters receded and most of the roads reopened, although a few are still closed.

We had a super-social weekend. We did FOUR activities that involved other people and one involved getting dressed up. I wore a dress. And I looked OK.

Although, as an aside to the man who thought I was about to give birth right there during the wedding reception, I have 6 to 10 weeks to go. Don't say that kind of thing to a pregnant woman when there are knives sitting rightthere on the table.

And I had the realization that I may have only 6 weeks to go (as if I ever thought I would make it to term without bed rest!). Since all of the baby stuff had been removed from the basement during the flood, I started dismantling it and washing things. I guess I am nesting. Or panicking. One of those.

I did go to the doctor and my blood pressure is still good. I passed the glucose screening thing. Nookie is still prohibited. I gained virtually no weight last month (my husband did notice that we were not going through as much ice cream recently) after being chastised the previous month. Heartbeat was something in the 140s. And we all agree (four ultrasound techs, the internet, my actual doctor, my mother-in-law, and me) that I am on track, should I go to term, for a 9-pound baby. I would say, "Yikes," but since this is a c-section anyway, who cares?!? And I mentioned 9-pounds to the man at the wedding reception so he wouldn't think I was pretending to be only 7-months pregnant.

We went to the hospital for Sibling Class on Saturday. Chuckles wanted to know if that's where they keep the babies. The class involved a movie in the auditorium and a trip to look through the window at the babies. They unwrapped one baby from its swaddle and I was flabbergasted. That thing was small! Small! I have heard that during the 3 days you are in the hospital your existing child becomes HUGE but DUDE, that baby was small. And blond. They had removed the card from the rolling bassinet that said the baby's name and size, etc. Probably some HIPAA thing, but I really wanted to know how big that baby was. I'd say maybe 19" and 7 lbs at birth (maybe as low as 6 lbs 8 oz now. Yowzers!

This hospital also has a Special Care Nursery and NICU and I saw a mom and dad (the mom obviously had recently delviered and was still attached to various IVs) holding a tiny baby who was attached to a million little wires. Someone snapped their picture. THey looked pretty happy. The baby they were holding was big enough so I guess it wasn't too serious. Good thing. THen we saw a mom walk down teh hallway with a car seat and a teeny little baby in it under a batch of cookies. A NICU graduate coming back to thank the nurses. Nice stuff.

Waiting for the Locusts

We got 11" of rain this weekend. At least, I think it was 11". My rain gauge only goes up to 6, but it was emptied and so on. I think I need to channel my inner Spinal Tap and get one that goes to eleven.

The deluge brought about road closures (interstates, side streets, US highways, state roads, more interstates) and flooding. Our only major problem is that the drain tile is filling as fast as the sump pump can pump it out (so we got a SECOND sump pump) and there is no where to put the water that we pump (front yard flooded, back yard a lake...man and boy ran hovercraft around the yard yesterday) AND the town's storm and waste water pumping stations went down so some untreated sewage water backed up into our laundry tub. THis wasn't that bad, but it does mean we can't use any of the drains in our house (like no flushing, wash hands into a pot and dump the pot in the lake in the back yard, no showering, and so on). It's fine.


In other news, I had an ultrasound and Doppler blood flow study on Friday. The technician agreed on the bay's sex so I guess that's it. I still don't see it, but whatever. How is it that I can clearly see kidneys but I cannot see genitalia even when it is quite clear to others?

At about 30 weeks, BoBo is measuring 2 weeks ahead with an estimated weight of 1902 g (which is 4 lbs 3 ounces). BoBo was happily playing with the only toy we've give him/her---the umbilical cord. Bobo was playing with it, fondling it, sucking on it, and using its hands to smoosh its face.

My placenta continues to be previa. At 30 weeks, there is not much chance of it moving significantly. It's going to stay previa, I guess, so pelvic rest continues apace, but I do have an appointment with an actual doctor on Thursday to get the official word. My cervix is long and closed at 4.4 cm (down from 5 cm a little over 3 weeks ago, but still totally good and not showing any signs of dilation).

I went to a bar on Saturday and it was an odd experience. I guess I am glad I am married and boring because a noisy, crowded bar was not fun. I had a better time at the bar/restaurant we went to first. It was brighter so I could see everyone and quieter so we could talk and it served actual food which was good (in addition to the full bar menu available for those who chose to imbibe).

Whew. I'm going to go watch the YouTUbe or hulu of the SNL/Tina Fey thing from this weekend.

Seven Eleven

It's been seven years.

Today is the 11th.

I knew this, and yet, somehow, the site of the flag this morning on my very own front porch took my breath away. And then Chuckles asked why Daddy put the flag out. Why indeed?

Q&A with Chuckles and Mommy

The Convo at Ask Moxie today is all about "Your Three-Year Old: Menace to Society or Mini-Mad Hatter". Here is a rough excerpt of my life for the last 5 days:

Q: Mommy, is that car faster than your truck?
A: Well, mommy's truck is currently driving faster, but I think that Corvette has a higher top-end than my truck. And the Corvette can certainly get off the line and to the legally posted speed limit faster than I can.

Q: Mommy, is grandpa's boat stronger than Daddy's car?
A: The horsepower ratings of the two vehicles are approximately the same, but the boat has to overcome a lot more drag to get through the water than the car does to drive on the road.

Q: Mommy, is Daddy bigger than Uncle Jake?
A: I think Uncle Jake weighs more, but Daddy is taller.

Q: Mommy, are dinosaurs louder than yelling?
A: Dinosaurs are extinct and, therefore, are quite quiet.

Q: Mommy, are my shoes redder than your shoes?
A: Well, your shoes are grey, and mine are black. Black is made up of all the colors in the rainbow. Since my shoes are blacker than your shoes, they are also redder.

And the sweetest question of all after I spent the evening in bed last night because I had Braxton-Hicks contractions that would not stop if I was even remotely upright:
Q: Mommy, are you still sick?
A: No, but climb up in bed with me so I can read you a book and give you a kiss.

Post-Vacay Q&A

Q: So, are you, like, a Republican?
A: No, I am not. I have voted for a few in my day and some of my best friends are, but I am not. I am a Libertarian who sometimes has trouble finding viable candidates, so I need to venture out and vote for others. In the interest of full-disclosure, I voted for Ron Paul in the Republican primary (to send a message to John McCain about picking a running mate). Ron Paul and I definitely do not see eye-to-eye on all the issues. I will also divulge that my husband voted in the Democratic primary but abstained from voting in the Presidential part of it. He was more concerned about some local elections.

Q: How was your vacation?
A: I feel like I got hit by a Mack truck.

Q: Oh, that's funny.
A: Yes, it is, because I was actually hit by a 2006 Mack Truck AND a 2003 International Harvester semi.

Q: What the heck?
A: Oh, right. Chicagoland, yesterday, rush hour, Tri-State Tollway, driving rain, construction zone, towing a boat, rear-ended by two semis. Glad to be alive. Boat not so lucky. Spent the evening in the L&D being evaluated.

Q: So what is it with you and winding up in the hospital on vacation?
A: Good-timing and luck, I would guess.

Q: Is everything OK?
A: Baby is moving and looked great on the monitors. I was not given an internal exam because of the previa, but things appeared OK from the outside. I am taking it easy today and looking for signs of abruption, but none are apparent, so I feel OK. Waiting for a call back from the insurance company. (Note to the reader, I did not read the Mayo Clinic article at the link about placental abruption because I need no help freaking myself right out. No help at all.)

Q: Anything else you want to tell us?
A: I called 9-1-1, and they were quite speedy. The cell phone shows the number as SOS Call.
We drove home, and my husband dropped me off at our local hospital on the way and came back for me later.
My husband actually backed up on the highway to put us in a safer place. That's right...he backed up with a trailer in traffic. But it felt safer to be on teh shoulder rather than sitting in the left lane.
The people in the hospital have a hard time when you don't give them a maiden name but insist that you are married. What is the right way to handle that? Why do they really need my maiden name?
Oh, and funny thing...the nurse asking for my history had me look at a paper to answer one question when taking my history in front of my husband. The question was whether I had a history of STDs. Ha ha ha, no.

Q: When involved in a minor crash, do you need to replace your child's car seat?
A: Excellent question. NHTSA says Maybe Yes, Maybe No. Read here to decide for yourself. You may wish to contact your seat manufacturer to find out what they recommend (they may even replace yours for free if you send your used one in so they can do research and testing on seats that have gone through actual accidents installed in vehicles and used by real people).

Twenty-Nine and One

I am 29 weeks now. Viability is good. Placental location will be checked next week. I went for my glucose tolerance screening on Tuesday. I felt fine, so I assume I passed.

And I'd like to send a hearty congratulations out to a friend who had her second baby last week. Welcome William James. And his name meets all my criteria!


I'm going out-of-town for a few days here. (Bags not yet packed but will be tonight, local in-network hospital located in our destination city should the need arise, small copy of my medical record tucked into my handbag, a little silent prayer that my cold gets better and Chuckles sleeps through the night while we're gone.) Wish me luck.

I am not a Feminist

I am not a feminist. I'm not all screedy and anti-male. I don't think women owe it to other women to work in their chosen profession if what they really want to do is stay at home and raise their children. Or even if that's not what they want to do, but it's what they've chosen to do because it feels right to them or best or easiest or whatever. Your choice, your thing. Oh, hey I guess I am Pro-Choice! Woo woo. I trust women to make their own choices! Yay women!

So, I'm not one of those Establishment Feminists. I believe men and women should be treated fairly and more-or-less equally, although I think it is impossible to treat two separate people equally because everyone is different. So, let's stick with fairly. People should be treated fairly.

Do you know what is not fair? It is not fair to ask Sarah Palin how she will have enough time to devote to her family and children and not ask the same of Barack Obama nor John McCain, who also have minor children. She's not even running for President. The job of Vice-President is far less-taxing than that of President. She'll have gobs of time. And her husband will probably quit his job to stay home and raise their children (two of whom I assume will be out of the house in the next year...the son, Track who is leaving next week to serve in Iraq and the daughter, Bristol, who will be busy getting married and raising her own family).

I actually watched her speech last night at the RNC. I have no idea why. I am a huge politcal junkie, but I normally do not have the patience to sit through an entire speech. I got out of the shower shortly before she went on and I went to bed promptly at 10 pm, even though she wasn't done. I thought the part of her speech that I saw was great. Really great. This morning people of the chattering classes were saying that it was too negative and too sarcastic.

Huh? I didn't even notice. I didn't see any sarcasm, although I guess it was there. Perhaps I just don't see sarcasm any longer since it oozes from the tips of my fingers. And too negative? No. It was not negative. She said she loved the US of A, apple pie, children, old people, the military (and she wants us to WIN), Alaska, small towns, people who work for a living, and low taxes. She likes cutting waste (I loved the part where she said she put Alaska's executive jet on e*bay).

She also took some shots at the opposing party. I didn't find it negative. She made some substantive arguments (although, perhaps her line about the Greek columns was a little biting...but it was funny). In fact, her funniest line of the night...which all the news organizations are picking up this morning...was unscripted and improvised. The line about the Hockey Mom, The Pitbull, and Lipstick. She improvised a joke. And got a big laugh.

At one point during the introduce-your-family part of the speech, baby Trig went from Daddy's arms to the 5 or 6 year old, Piper's arms. Daddy was going to be introduced and need to stand, smile, and wave, so he needed his arms free. So the kid has the baby and she is looking at him and smoothing his hair and fawning on him. They cut back to the speech then back to the kid and back to the speech and at one point, the kid licks her hand to smooth down her (sleeping) baby brother’s hair. It was the cutest thing I have seen on TV in a month. And some people think that was gross, but seriously, moms and sisters do this to babies all-the-time. And a 5-year old doing it is just precious.

It was a good speech. She appears capable. She has at least as much, if not more, executive-level experience than Barack. And she's a woman. Which apparently, makes this a "game-changer". I'm excited to see it all play out. I don't like some of the criticism I am hearing because it makes me realize that there really is a double-standard for men and women in power. In fact, some people even criticized the earrings she wore to visit the Gulf Coast in the run-up to Gustav. She needed more-serious earrings? You have to be kidding me. Just kill me now. Certainly, she's no Suze Orman (did you know Suze only owns one pair of earrings?). But really, her earrings. Let's bash her for turning a national disaster-in-the-making into a photo-op and leave her earrings out of it, OK? And her red shoes, for that matter.

Oh hey, there are policy issues and stuff about which I disagree with Sarah Palin. For starters, abortion. She is only OK with it in the case of risk to a mother's life. A fine position to have, but one which I do not share. Rape, no? Incest, no? Health of the mother (wherein her life is not actually endangered but her health is...like oh, I don't know, need to terminate a pregnancy because you just discovered you have cancer and need chemo now and you already have 2 kids whom you do not want to orphan...talk about your heartbreaking choice!)?

I'm not really worried about the abortion thing though because with a Democratically-controlled Congress, which I do not see changing in the next 4-8 years, no legislative Roe rollback is going to happen any time soon. Sure, McCain could appoint enough justices to the court, but it would then go to the legislature or to the states, neither of which disturbs me at this point.

Palin is lukewarm on the War on Drugs. It's one war I don't think we should be fighting, so I'm OK with her position here.

She supports school-choice programs. Yay!!!

She is supposedly socially and religiously conservative, but she vetoed a bill in Alaska that would have denied health insurance to same-sex couples because it was in violation of the state constituion. You have to love someone whose personal beliefs may contradict directly with their actions because they are bound by the constitution. Unlike some people for whom the 2nd Amendment is merely window-dressing, I guess.

The Personal Becomes Political

I am Pro-Choice. I am seriously Pro-Choice. And I support every one's right to make whatever choices they need to make for themselves. I do not support people who want to impose their choices onto you (or me!).

So, let's talk about Sarah Palin. She's Pro-Life. She is seriously Pro-Life. She talks her talk and walks her walk. Despite knowing her youngest son would have Down Syndrome and being given the option to terminate, she chose to continue the pregnancy and has said that her son, Trig, is perfect. And honestly, having seen pictures of him, I'd say he's perfect too. He's one cute baby.

I do not think this makes her any better than anyone else. She is Pro-Life. What else could she have done? If you are Pro-Life, there really isn't any other option for you. I'm glad she's not a hypocrite. And I'm sure it was very difficult knowing the diagnosis and coming to terms with giving birth to a child with special needs. I assume there is a grieving process upon diagnosis, but I really have no idea as I have never been in that position.

The real question is: What would I do?
And the answer is: I have no idea. Since I am Pro-Choice, I could theoretically choose to terminate. That's where choice comes in.

Now, we find out that Palin's 17-year old daughter (unmarried) is pregnant. She is planning to marry the father of her baby. Given the family's Pro-Life credentials, this makes sense. Generations of girls who found themselves "in trouble" married the baby's father. It was expected. And generally, girls did not sleep with boys who couldn't be counted on to "do the right thing".

Also, given the Pro-Life credentials, she could place the child for adoption. Many a middle-class girl did that back in the day. By my mother's generation, there were not a ton of girls sent to "spend a summer with their aunts", but in the 10 or 20 years prior to her, many girls were sent away to have babies and place them for adoption. My mother, who found herself in a family way, married my father. It worked out OK. They divorced 13 years later, but they get along well now and their two children are functional, college-graduate adults who were married years before procreating. No cycle of unwed pregnancy was started.

I'm sure Bristol Palin can marry her baby's father, and they can all grow up to be healthy, successful adults.

I'm not even sure where I am going with this, but here it is. Half of the babies born in my county are born to unwed mothers. I imagine many more than that are conceived by unwed mothers. It's not exactly a national tragedy. And teenagers having sex isn't really news. And there is not much of a stigma left to unwed, teenage pregnancy, especially not if the girl marries the baby's father prior to birth. No story here. Nothing really to see here. Move along.

Even Barack Obama has noted that having a pregnant teenage daughter does not reflect on Gov. Palin's ability to govern. If anything, it says that they have a normal family life. Barack himself was born to an 18-year old mother. Dick Cheney has a gay daughter. Joe Biden has a son who is a lobbyist. People have families, and candidates really can't control the other members of their families to keep their image in line. When I read about Jenna Bush's recent wedding, I noted something that in previous generations would have been taboo hat these days isn't even an issue. He husband proposed to her while they were on vacation camping together in some mountains. No big deal to me. To previous generations, an unmarried young lady on a vacation trip camping(!) unchaperoned with a boy would have been big news.

Times change. Families can still embarrass you. Move along, nothing to see here.

Seven

Seven years ago today, I married Mr. Long-Suffering. He's still recovering.

Despite my super-traditional baby naming choices, there are some things about me that are totally moderne.

For example, I lived with Mr. L-S prior to marrying him, and we lived in my (!) house. Yes, that's right. A single woman bought a house on her own. In the 1990s. And lived with a man without the benefit of clergy.

We did marry in a church, but only for two reasons (1) the reception hall was unavailable for the ceremony earlier in the day and (2) Mr. L-S's grandmother had a lovely church that would accomodate us. She did not live too long after that, and we are so glad we were able to honor her with this. Her name was in the church bulletin that week stating that her grandson was being married in her church. Many people called on her and congratulated her and speculated on the arrival of great-grandchildren with her. She was beaming. I think it was extra-special for her because her only child, a son, married in the Church of his (future)-wife.

I was married on a Sunday. Why? Because I was engaged and married relatively quickly (less than 6 months), and most places had already been booked. It was a holiday weekend, so no one needed to be anywhere on Monday. It worked out well.

I didn't wear white or a veil. I wore shimmering silver, and I looked stunning, if I do say so myself.

And I did not avoid seeing the groom the morning of the ceremony. In fact, we woke up in bed together (like every other morning of the preceding 2 years), had a lovely brunch, and then parted ways not to see eachother until ceremony time.

I did not change my last name. I didn't even compromise with a hyphen. I've always said that if I screw up royally, I reserve the right to change my name to save my good name!

I did follow one fun tradition. I did the old, new, borrowed, blue thing. I had my great-grandmother's gorgeous mine-cut diamond ring with filigree. I had my new dress and new shoes (from TJ Maxx, no less). I borrowed the most-beautiful piece of jewelry I have ever seen from my mother-in-law but which pulled every single hair out of my wrist and hurt like you wouldn't believe...good thing I wore it a couple of days in advance or my wrist would've been red in all the photos. I had a $2 blue garter from the craft/hobby store. I also carried an antique handkerchief which I fooolishly handed to my sister with my flowers during the ceremony. I was one of the teariest, weepiest brides you'd ever seen. In fact, the minister (who had not attended a Sunday wedding since his own 30 years prior) actually asked me whether I was capable of going on. I was, and we did. And it's been a pretty good ride ever since.

Baby Names

Since I have already posted at least 3 times on my baby name thoughts, I figured I'd follow up on that theme.

Regarding Margaret, I do like it paired with Grace. Does Margaret Lauren have too many Rs in it? Or maybe just too many syllables?

Regarding maiden name usage as a part of your child's name: my father has his mother's maiden name as his middle name. I have always liked that tradition. Mind you, my last name might as well be Jasciliewzski, so while I would like to do that, it seems a little...mean. BUT, I have thought about something like a tribute to my last name. So, a middle name like Jack or Louie might be in order. In fact, truth be told, one of those girl names I listed as a middle name is a tribute to my last name.

Now for boy names... Remember that I have Six Simple Rules for Naming Your Child After British Aristocracy, so if your naming habits run more toward trendy then I might not be the place to look. Here are my favorite boy names.

John August
John Philip
James Paul
James Anthony
Anthony Paul
James Alan
Charles Paul
Charles Philip
Harlan (and I never came up with a middle name for that)
Daniel Paul
Daniel Jay
Christopher George (but NOT George as a first name)
Christopher Jay
Christopher John
John Jay (but I believe John Jay was the first Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, so that might be weird, but it sounds so nice)
John Alan
John William
Edward Harlan
Edward William
Wesley Thomas
Thomas Wesley
Michael (with almost anything as a middle name like David, Wesley, August)
Matthew (ditto)
Thomas Ryan
Daniel Thomas

I'm sure I like other names, but this is all I have for now.

Three

I am now in the third trimester by pretty much any pregnancy calendar you use. I am 27.5 weeks.

After the awesome ultrasound (which featured lenses of the eyes), I had to wait three days before getting a look at the official report from the radiologist. It is official. I still have partial placenta previa. However, the good news is my cervix is 5 cm long and showing no signs of changing, so the chances of having a bleed soon are low. And pre-term labor is not yet on the map. Whee. I was chastised lightly by my ob for my 7-pound in one month weight gain (which didn't seem too bad to me considering my previous pregnancy weight gain experience). I was given a slip for another ultrasound, a slip for a gestational diabetes screening, and told to come back sometime in the next 2-4 weeks. I chose 4. I am the queen of compliance, and my ob knows it. If I have problems, he knows he'll hear from me and he knows that I know what a problem looks like. It's nice to be treated like an intelligent adult.

Name games continue. My mother, in her wisdom, has decided that baby names need to be icky. I think she's chosen Mortimor for a boy and Grisella for a girl. I kid, but still, her choices have been...odd. We have a left-over boy name from when Chuckles was born (which should have been his name but for a moment of miscommunication) and we have a ton of girl names so we just need to nail down a first and middle name for a girl and we're set. And yes, I know what is between the baby's legs, and I still insist on having boy and girl names at the ready because I know what I saw, and it looked like a whole lot of nothing, that's what. I am not convinced.

Here are my girl names (I've given the names combos that I like, but feel free to suggest your own following my Six Simple Rules for Naming Your Baby After British Aristocracy):
Caroline Elizabeth (not to be confused with Carolyn, which I do not like)
Caroline Grace
Elizabeth Lauren
Katherine Elizabeth
Elizabeth Claire
Corrinne Grace

Abigail was our cat and I love the name, but Mr. Long-Suffering says, "No."
I like Margaret but have no idea what to do with it.
So, that's where I am with that.

I am having some "back-door" issues. This is all TMI, but whatever. In the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that I made it through my entire pregnancy with Chuckles without any constipation and no hemmorhoids. I developed a pair or three while pushing for a few hours trying to get Chuckles to go through the door and avoid cutting a window. But, alas, I got the window and the hemmorhoids. They have not been much of a bother for the last 3 years, so I didn't think much of them until Oh.My.God.The.Blood one day. And when you have placenta previa and are searching the TP for signs of imminent trouble, having a toilet full of blood is not so great. At least I quickly figured out the source so I did not fall into a giant pit of despair. Anyway, I am not really constipated but I did start taking one of those dissolves-in-any-beverage-and-you-can't-even-taste-it fiber things. And it's true, you don't taste it but it doesn't dissolve in cold milk. I haven't noticed any change in that area since I started it on Thursday. I have a pretty fiber-rich diet as it is. So, I guess we just hope it doesn't get any worse. It doesn't hurt or burn or itch or anything, so it's just gross and disgusting. That is all.

At my appointment, I was given the go-ahead to have rhymes with smorgasms. Pelvic rest continues but smorgasms (which I assume are chocolate and marshamallow covered) are allowed.

My born child has a cold and has coughed and puked on me in the last few days. Which is always good times. I also cut his hair since his gradmother basically said he looked like a ragamuffin. Now, he looks like a ragamuffin whose mother is too cheap to take him to get his hair cut. Actually, it doesn't looke that bad. But do you think he could stop moving while I do it? I am sure that a very funny/cute photo is in the offing since he asked me, oh I don't know, about a hundred times if he could cut his own hair. It's just a matter of time before he does.

Mr. Long-Suffering is not thrilled about this little cold situation and bounces wildly from blaming me to blaming Chuckles. Basically, Chuckles has post-nasal drip which is irritating his throat and stomach and making him cough and spit up. And Mr. Long-Suffering thinks Chuckles, who let me remind you is 3 year 3.5 months old, should just know this and blow his nose even when he's tired or asleep or something. Or that he should at least blow his nose when asked. I say he's 3.

It is late August, the tomatoes are in. We have bounty.

I found out about my maternity leave benefits. 2 weeks paid before due date, 8 weeks afterward followed by up to 12 more unpaid weeks. If I can do the math, that's carry-the-one, 22 weeks off of work which sounds a lot like 5 months. So, that'd rock. We'll see what I end up taking. But I am so thrilled about this development I can barely contain myself. Must check with Chuckles's school to see what kinds of part-time pre-school options they have.

The Olympics are over and the Democratic National Convention has started. From one spectacle to another. Both spectator sports. Make sure your voter registration is up-to-date. I don't care who you vote for, reasonable people can disagree, but read up on the elections in your area (local officials have more say over your day-to-day life than the national politicians) and cast a vote.

POP Goes the (what, are you calling me a weasel?)

Let's call this picture "Gee, Mom, you should cut back on the chocolate milk."

For some reason, this picture was on the camera when I unloaded it. I have no idea why I took a picture of my dinner one night. It's not like dinosaur-shaped white meat chicken nuggets are something of which I am proud.

This is a photo (if you squint really hard) of the Chicago skyline taken from the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore.

This is my child hiking in the Dune Grass. I have no idea what he was doing. I took this picture on super-zoom. He and his 7-year old aunt were playing some game that had very detailed rules and something about digging a hole in the sand and dinosaurs.

This is The All-New Honda Pilot, as advertised behind an airplane at the beach.

This is Chuckles eating the first ice cream cone I ever made for him. This is not his first ice cream cone. The teenagers at the Photomat make him little torches with candy eyes of which he is quite fond.

My husband snapped this picture at the Lake House on Saturday. It is my belly in my new bathing suit. The scale is hard to tell, but each flower is the size of a Honda Civic, so you can imagine, I am quite rotund these days.

I Know Something You Don't Know

I went to the ultrasound. As did Mr. Long-Suffering. However, we did opt to find out. And I'm not telling.

In other ultrasound news, the heartbeat was in the 130s and had a rhythm you could dance to (depsite his presence at two ultrasounds already, I think this is the first time Mr. Long-Suffering got to hear the beat). Baby is about 2 lbs 5 ounces and measuring a solid 1-2 weeks ahead, which is the same as the last two ultrasounds and same growth curve as Chuckles, so good news there. We also saw all this other stuff:

• three vessel cord (and this time I could really see it) with excellent Doppler flows
• placenta still partially covering the cervix but looking better (probably not going to migrate totally out of the way, but looking decidedly less scary). Nicely closed, long cervix.
• kidneys, four chambers to the heart and this time we could see the valves opening and closing, which was a neat bonus
• gall bladder, liver, diaphragm (which is keeping all the organs on their own sides just like the masking tape on that one Brady Bunch episode)
• intestines, baby bladder, cerebellum, ribs, spinal column, nasal bone, two hemispheres to the brain
• choroid plexus (no cycsts!), lungs, liver, cross section of the kidneys, which are appropriately-sized
• Toes. Tons and tons of baby toes. Like ten of them. Measurement on the baby foot is 52 mm. With Chuckles at 22 weeks, it was 48 mm. This is 26 weeks, so same growth track.
• thumb sucking, upper lip, lack of cleft lip/palate, chin (which looks a ton like my baby sister's chin and bears some resemblance to Chuckles's chin, as well)

All-in-all, an awesome ultrasound. And Mr. Long-Suffering got a chair, which he did not use because he was huddled next to me and next to the screen. However, while I pottied (32 ounces of water an hour beforehand is really quite torturous) and changed and whatnot, he did avail himself of the chair, so I guess it was worth it. Since my placenta will continue to need to be monitored, according to the technician, I will most likely be going back for another ultrasound. I don't mind. I like seeing BoBo/Puppet Show. And I will schedule it at the place with the chair.

Dude, where's my post

Dear Teacher,

The cat knocked an oil lamp onto my pile of papers and the blog post I meant to write was lost in the fire.

Signed,
Habitual Liar


I have no idea where I have been or why I haven't been posting. Let's just say, I wish it were sleeping - but it wasn't.


We went to a lake house on Saturday. Lake House was big fun. My kid went in a tube pulled behind the boat. He had a blast! Mr. Long-Suffering drove 1.3 miles per hour around teh lake while I yelled at him that there were Other Boats On This Lake so Move Over so my BABY doesn't get hit by a boat. At which point, he asked me to be quiet (or some other words, you know, whatever). I will state emphatically, that my child never saw my white knuckle freak out and that is a good thing. Chuckles's 4-year old cousin was not so sure about this behind the boat stuff. That was rather funny. There was water volleyball and a full-moon cruise around the lake, stars, food, fun, scooters, a tournament of bags (in which I did not play because I pulled the pregnancy card and took a nap in a lounge chair). Did you know some people call the bean bag tossing game "cornhole"? There is something terribly wrong about that.


Sunday we went to Build-A-Bear and then pizza. It was the birthday party of a turning-4 year old girl. My kid really oddly enjoyed the lip gloss in his officially sanctioned Build-A-Bear gift bag (and then we had to give him a good scrubbing because that stuff is just grease). He did not build a bear. He built a turtle whose shell is a back pack and then dressed him in a hard hat (all the girls picked gymnasts and princesses for their dolls). They had firemen and policemen, Spiderman, army men outfits. But just a hard hat (like Daddy’s). Well, you know, mommy wears a hard hat too, but that’s OK. And he named his turtle “Goggy”. This is why he’s not allowed to help name New Baby. Or maybe we just don’t stage manage him enough. I’m pretty sure the other kids didn’t come up with those names (Georgina (a monkey in honor of Curious George), Lucky, and Fluffy) on their own, is all I’m saying. We thought he should name the turtle Titian like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (you know, a Renaissance painter, but Goggy it was). Goggy rhymes with Groggy.

Oh, we got THE QUESTION on Sunday.
Chuckles: Mommy, who put the baby in there?
Me: Uhhh, Daddy did.
Chuckles: Oh, ok.
Me: Whew.

He also told me that Daddy didn't have any babies so he could not possibly be married, but he has FIVE babies in his back so he is married. To whom? Mommy. I love his little Oedipal-ness. But it's OK that I am married to Daddy (but I guess marriage is not a reflexive property since Daddy is not married to me, ok).

This morning, I wish I had heard the traffic report on the radio BEFORE this one…the traffic report I heard went like this: “I-55 is reopened in both directions. The buffalo are off of the road.” So, what? Were there buffalo on the road in Chicago? And yes, it turns out there were 4 buffalo on the road that escaped from somewhere and were shot by their owners after shutting down the interstate. It was not in the city proper but in what I would call a far-outlying subarban-type area.

My aunt, who once upon a time was a Certified Nurse Midwife, had me lay down on Saturday and she poked around and found baby head and showed my how to do it and then we found what were either hands or feet. And now I know how to do it too. This will be a party trick for the next x weeks (wherein I hope x is greater than 10). Baby had gone head down-ish. Aunt Midwife was not worried about the placenta previa since it is so common post c-section and I am not bleeding yet. She's even hopeful that today's ultrasound will show migration of the placenta. I am cautiously optimistic about that, since it is the most likely scenario, but let's say I'm not scheduling the VBAC right now.

In other news, Husband might not be able to make the ultrasound after all, in which case, I am looking between the legs and asking, but I am not telling. It will be my little secret. Mine Mine Mine.

***Abrupt Topic Change***

I have basically three, no wait, four, no five, six, six criteria for naming a baby:

1. Thou shall not be named anything trendy (it should have been in the top 100 names at least 100 years ago…oddly, I dislike the name Mary, the #1 girl name of all time). If you can screen name someone Overused-Last-Name-As-A-First-Name, the name is right out. That's right, I'm looking at you: Tyler, Taylor, Jefferson, and Madison.
2. The name shall not rhyme with swears or slurs (or fart). And it should not rhyme with itself. Naming your son Harry when your last name is Carey is not my idea of a good time.
3. The initials shall not spell bad words (or really anything). Just ask Aaron Scott Smithson about this.
4. The name shall reflect or honor your family in some way. You need not name the child after anyone, but giving your kid his grandfather's initials might be nice.
5. The first and middle name should sound nice together. For example Corrine Lauren doesn't sound that great together (I think it's the N sound at the end of each name), but Hannah Lauren is nice and Corrine Leigh sounds fine, so it's not necessarily the names that are the problem but the combination. Johnjacobjinglehimerschmidt is right out as well.
6. The name shall be obvious when you read it. So, naming your kid Gretyl and saying, "It's pronounced 'Betsy'." is not OK. No need to add extraneous Ys and extra Hs and Qs into the name either. However, I think Jamie Lynn Spears would have done well to name her daughter Maddie Briann something more like Madeline Brianne (so that Brianne is clearly a girls' name instead of like Brian and I feel the more formal name would give her more options as an adult). We can ask Jennifer Granholm, Michigan's governor, if she'd prefer to be called Jennie, but someone named Jennie, probably won't be going by Jennifer.

Powerful, Powerless

After Monday morning's I-Don't-Want-To-Go-To-School situation, I really did not even want this week to continue. I do the drop-off and Mr. L-S does the pick up. I have begged him to trade with me, but with our jobs and schedules, it really makes more sense this way.

Monday night was a fine night and I remember very little before we all sat on Chuckles's bed and did hugs and kisses (oh, I know, I made ice cream cones for all of us to eat outside). Anyway, we were all in the bed doing good-nights when I heard one clap of thunder and saw the lights dim. Mr. L-S headed to shut the computer down and Chuckles and I continued with the evening routine. Less than a minute later, the power was out. Chuckles asked to have his night light put on. No dice. Then he wanted Daddy's flashlight. No-can-do. But, Daddy showed up less than a minute later with a PURPLE GLOW STICK. And you can keep it in your bed, blah blah blah. So that was fine. My husband mentions that our tree out front blew over. Really odd. It's not even raining.

Then, it starts raining. And lightning. Every 1 to 1.5 seconds the sky turns completly white. And the thunder. There was thunder.

We took showers by oil lamp. Incidentally, the bathroom was really hot during this. The heat from the lamp plus the steam from the shower and no exhaust fan. And I wouldn't leave the bathroom door open because Lisa The Cat has not yet learned about not going on the bathroom counter, nor do I think she knows fire can burn.

Early to bed, it was. At 2:30 am, I heard the high water alarm in our sump well going off. Since we have drain tile and a sump well, we have a sump pump to keep our basement from flooding. The alarm is set quite a bit higher than the float that turns the pump on. We were 1" from flooding the basement. Bailing with buckets ensued. Back to bed. Chuckles woke up "hot and sweaty". Got him some milk from the 'fridge (which was no longer as cold as it had been), stripped his jammies and brought him into our bed. Since it was still Electric Light Storm outside, I was actually more comfortable with him in our bed. I didn't want to take any chances about diving for cover and needing to get him from his room.

4 am, High Water Alarm. We go to bail the water and I see Chuckles wandering down stairs saying something about how I left him alone. OK, then. Back to bed. 5:30 am High Water Alarm and husband's work alarm. I ask him to wake me at 6:30 so I can get ready for work. 6:30 comes. I sit up and there is a purple glow stick in my hair. He still hasn't bailed the water. It's still lightning out but the rain seems to have stopped. We hook the sump pump up to my car battery (through an inverter to change DC to AC). Anyway, pump that out. Called day care - no answer. Called work - no answer. Wait. Eat. Call work again. Say that the power is out, day care may or may not be open (they aren't answering and the local radio station that does school closings is not broadcasting). Bossman says it was rough getting to work, let him know. OK.

Go on about the day. THink about logging in to work from home. I use a laptop, so no power needed. I can power the modem through my car, OK. Let's do it. Except the DSL is out and so is the land line phone (although cell phones are working). Chuckles gets up and we go about our day periodically pumping the water out.

By 10am, the water is off. We don't have a well, so I found this odd. I figured maybe the town didn't have back up generators for the pumping stations. (Turns out, this was half the reason.)

I chop the tree that fell into a million little pieces with an axe. It just felt so good to do that. I then pick up the branches that fell all over our yard and in the yards of some of the elderly neighbors. Some of the branches were blown out of the trees with such force that they were stuck into the ground (and sitting there upright) and had to be pulled out.

Come lunch time, I am tired of all this, getting hot, and ready to see if we can borrow a generator.

So, we head out to borrow a generator (and the air conditioning in the truck feels so good). As we drove, the destruction got greater and greater and greater and then stopped. It just ended. By the time we were at my in-laws', there was barely a notice of there having been a storm (execpt I noticed that there pool was about 3" higher).

We barely get home because so many of the roads are closed with high water and tree limbs. But we make it and hook up the generator. We hook up the pump, the freezer, and the 'fridge (and our nextdoor neighbor's fridge too). Yay for generators. Chuckles fell asleep in the car coming back (as per my plan). After an hour, my husband decided to go get gas for the generator since it had been running for a while and we didn't have much left. He came back 20 minutes later (it's less than a mile to the gas station) from the wrong direction. I guess pwoer was out the first few places he tried. Something about "losing a phase".

Meanwhile, I was sitting outside guarding the generator from roving bands of thieves who had flooding basements, warming refrigerators, and a gleam in their eye for trouble. Or I was just making sure it didn't burst into flames. Whatever. I was sitting on a chair in the grass in the shade and a bird mistook me for a statue and landed on me. I freaked right out screaming like a little girl.

I started planning dinner. Our water came back on. I called the town to find out whether we were under a boil order. "No," she said, "you'd be notified." Chuckles woke up. We had stuff I could fix on the grill (veggies, salad, salmon). I realized the dishwasher was full, had no idea when power would be back, better wash the dishes by hand. Told my husband I was hot, tired, and done with the day now so as soon as I cleaned up dinner, I was laying down. He moved the generator to the back yard and locked it up with a serious piece of chain. I did the dishes and then POOF, the power was back on. No flickering. Just on. We waited about 10 minutes to make sure it stuck. Phones on. Air conditioning. Sweet, sweet air conditioning. And it stayed. So, I curled up in front of the AC register and had a grand time. Mr. Long-Suffering turned off the generator, put all the extension cords away, moved the appliances back where they belonged. We had ice cream cones. I got Chuckles into a cool bath. I went to bed.

This morning, I found out I really was under a boil order and the reverse 9-1-1 notification would not matter since we had no phones. And Chuckles wanted to know if mommy and daddy could stay home again with no power. Sorry kidd-o. Mommy wants some AC.

We got 6" of rain overnight and had an F2 tornado less than a mile from our house. We're all OK. The End?

Non-Stop Mommy-Son Fun

After naps on Saturday, we went to Mimi's house to swim in her pool, but Chuckles actually spent more time riding a pink tricycle around her patio (while a dog chased him) than he did in the pool. He also spent more time dragging ALL of the MANY Diggers and Trucks out of her crawl space (and putting them back) than he did in her pool. But he didn't care because it was FUN. And we ate corn on the cob and had cheeseburgers. Which means I did not have to cook, so that was good too. Instead of books before bed, we watched TV!!! - a PBS show on sharks, otters, and tuna, then I tucked him into my bed to fall asleep. When I woke up a half-hour later, I tucked him into his own bed for the night.

Sunday repeated the let-sleeping-mommies-lie motif we started on Saturday. When I finally got up, we went grocery shopping and ate lunch. After lunch, we again did the nap thing. When I woke up, he was asleep. I got a few chores done, and then he was up (and still wearing his long-sleeve, long pants, Spiderman pajamas despite the fact that it was now 2 pm). We left shortly thereafter for a beach party with pizza and cake and a beach and sand and castles and Lake Michigan and kids and waves and splashing (and my new bathing suit). We stayed until dark. It was FUN. He'd like to go back and do it again. I think it's funny that I tried to convince him for 8 hours to get dressed and within 20 minutes at the beach, he was wearing his swim trunks.

On the way home, we talked to Daddy. The Sunday-night-coming-back-to-the-City-from-Michigan traffic was in full force. I told him it looked heavy and slow and I'd call with an eta. 10 miles and 10 minutes later, I called Daddy back and told him traffic was very heavy but FAST. I told him it was like everyone driving was from Illinois. And it was true. Everyone knew what they were doing 4.5 feet off of the bumper in front of them at 60 mph. The Dad-guy said OK and he'd be home when we got there. Which I told CHuckles. And then the Dad wasn't there and didn't get there for a good 20 minutes because he has no concept of time. Ever. But it was fine. I got Chuckles a shower and into bed. Dad and I talked in Chuckles's room for a half hour about how our weekends went (in lieu of reading a book, we told stories). I moved Chuckles from his Aerobed to real bed for the night and then I tucked myself in.

And to reward me for all teh fun he had this weekend, Chuckles threw a ne plus ultra fit this morning about how he didn't want to go to school and could I stay home from work and play with him all day. Which culminated in him mentioning a certain kid at school and how that kid isn't very nice to him, so I asked the teacher to keep them apart. And well, at least he had fun this weekend.

Nap Time is My Time

I think that 3 is a nice age. Chuckles woke up with the roosters this morning, let me know he was up, and then, oh, I don't know what because I went back to sleep. When I got up all the couch cushions were on the floor, his diaper was in the garbage, and he was eating cereal with a truck. It all seemed rather pleasant.

As part of our non-stop funapalooza, we went to Lo*Mart this morning to buy that bathing suit I saw online that said it was available in store. Not very true, that. Acording to the helpful woman in the changing room area, the maternity clothes are no longer with the clothes (you know, juniors, ladies, activewear, women's). They are in the infant department. M'kay. And when I went there, I found 6 little sticks on the wall with T-shirts, carpis, and shorts. And no bathing suits. So we left. Without looking for any of the other things on my list because at this point, Lo*Mart was getting the stink-eye from me.

So, we headed up Strip Mall Blvd to Old Navy. Where there were also no suits, but I wasn't super-diappointed because I didn't like their suits anyway. Across teh street was Motherhood Maternity and I figured, I pop in and just buy one since this was frustrating. When I got there I discovered that some time in the last 3.5 years Motherhood went out of business. OK, then. Motherhood was in the outlot of Target, so I just sucked it up and went in there. They had 7 suits left (4 different styles, XS to XL, not all styles in all sizes, obviously). There were two in Size L. I tried them both. They were fine. I let Chuckles pick, and I bought it. For far more money than I ever spend on a bathing suit. But I realized that I have a lot of bathing suit appropriate parties and activities coming up and I will use it. And then I will give it to someone else. In fact, I may have a giveaway right here on this blog. You can wash it before you wear it so it won't squick you out.

Then we went to the scrapbook store (who also did not have what I wanted, which was fountain pen ink refills by the way), but it just happened to be right next to the Toy Store That Has a Train Table, so we stayed there an hour and I bought some birthday presents for various people. Fun-A-Pallooza, I tell you. We came home, ate lunch, then laid down for naps. I am the only one who slept. Until I told him he'd be in trouble and we couldn't have any more fun until he slept. And then he did. So, he's asleep and I am eating cookies whose expiration date is some time after I will have this baby. And that, my friends, is a pretty freaky thing.

Kodachrome

And now for your viewing pleasure...

I believe I mentioned the rainbow that filled the entire sky (and caused people to stop on the expressway to take pictures with their cameraphones (or heavens...not stop while taking pictures)). Looking Left:Looking Right:

This next picture was taken one morning in our cottage on vacation. Chuckles was learning about optics. And when he says binoculars, it really is the cutest thing. His annunciation is so clear. (Note also, the sweatshirt in July.)

This is another vacation photo. Chuckles was riding (or is it driving?) what he assured me was a motorcycle. He asked me to ride on there with him on the back. I tried, but somehow I slow-motion fell to the ground.
This is the picture Chuckles took of me the first time I ever let him try to use my camera. I was eating dinner. This is my arm (in front of my belly). Honestly, I do have that many freckles on me. And they are there all the time - not just whilst pregnant. It's lovely, I assure you.And lastly (because it is bedtime for me), here is the gratuitous photo of a child feeding baby ducks. Actually, we had a big cup of Cheerios and Chuckles was eating them himself since he spent most of dinner taking random photographs of people, plates, benches, the ground, etc (see above). When I went and got a big cup of duck food, he was none to disappointed at having a chance for a snack. And, I made sure the ducks got some too.

Non-Stop Funapalooza

Mr. Long-Suffering is taking a well-deserved break from the grind to go on a guys' weekend. I am not entirely sure what happens on a guys' weekend, but I think it might involve golf (although, he did not put the clubs in the car), beer or spirits, food (of the smoked meat variety, possibly jerky), and various disgusting bolidy functions (like belching and farting). And I am pretty sure the entire state of Wisconsin had better be prepared for this.

So, Chuckles was completely disheartened to learn that when Daddy left for work this morning that he would not be back until Sunday night (although, since his concept of time is fluid, he may not really notice...or it will seem like forever).

I tried to re-hearten Chuckles by telling him that he and mommy would have lots of fun this weekend. And fun we shall have. I need to make some calls, arrange a play date, and I don't know what else, but if we skip bath and instead I decide that being hosed off outside is close enough, there will be no second parent to second-guess my decision. And fruit is as good as a vegetable with dinner, and ice cream is OK because we need to eat our dairy. Or something.

***

I have a family situatiohn involving slightly less nuclear family members and I would love to tell you about it, but I feel wrong blogging about it. Let's see if I can make it up completley without giving away any details? This is, of course, all hypothetical: Let's say my "brother" lives out-of-town and has a "son". They will be in town visiting very close to my nephew's birthday. THe entire family has never seen my "nephew" for his birthday before. He's turning 4. My brother wanted, what I considered, a totally over-the-top party for his son. I suggested a swimming party at Mimi's house, but my "brother" kept leaning towards things like A! Dinosaur! THemed! Party! at the Field! Museum! or a Nemo Party at the Shedd Aquarium. You know, in Chicago. On a weekend. During the summer. When every single family in a three state radius comes to the city to do things of culture (especially one last time before school starts).

Finally, my "brother" settled on Build-A-Bear, which I thought was fine. We'd head to the mall and have air conditioned fun in the summer. Except instead of picking one of the eleventy Build-A-Bear workshops in the suburbs, my "brother" chose the one at Chicago's Navy Pier. On the weekend of the Air Show, when every person in a 3-state radius (actually, only 2 million people) come to the lakeshore to watch planes fly overhead.

Now, imagine that a Pier sticks out into the lake, so it is esentially the lakefront. Now, imagine 2 million people being there. Then, think about trying to find parking or imagine walking, while 6-months pregnant, the one mile from the train station to the Pier while pushing a stroller and dodging the slightly-inebriated Air Show revelers (and imagine that the train will be packed so with your stroller you will be forced to stand the entire 45-minute ride to the city). Then, if you can, imagine trying to get a 3-year old boy and a 33-year old man INSIDE when there are really cool military planes flying over your head but only if you stay OUTSIDE. You can see my dilemma.

But, as I told my "brother", I am your sister and I will be at the party no matter what. And I will. And I am sure it will go 8 times better than I ever could have imagined. And someone will fall asleep on the train ride home (hopefully, me).

When life gives you lemons, make Lemonade

Recipe:

1 part placenta previa
1 part pregnancy after infertility
1 lemon
2 parts water
1/2 cup sagar
3 quarts vodka

Mix and drink. Repeat.



I find that I am a more prolific blogger when I am neurotic. If you like to read my blog, recent events are good news for you. If you don't, then maybe you should just go away now, k?

Moving on. I bought Chuckles the Graco Nautilus 3-in-1 car seat for my car. I love it. He loves it. It's a win-win-win-win all around. So I want to buy another one for our other car. But the price at amazon is up $40 from what I paid. I check it every day, and every day it has a different price (always, so far, higher than the price I paid in June). I think Tuesday has always been the lowest price of the week. So, I will continue to follow it. I wish I could just put in a limit order or a Dutch auction bid that would say BUY BUY BUY if it gets down to $130 (currently priced at $169.99 but I paid $127 for it).

Question: How old is a child, usually, when their feet start to smell like feet?
Answer: About 3, if wearing rubber Spiderman sandals with bare feet and it is over 90 degrees


Question: How far along are you?
Answer: 24 weeks today. And grateful for every completed week.


Question: How does an almost-six-months-pregnant woman keep cool in 90-degree heat?
Answer: By having no shame. SarcastiCarrie can be quoted thusly, "Mom, Chuckles really wants to come over and visit his Mimi (and swim in her pool)." Mimi, obviously, had no choice but to invite us over after this blatant self-invitation to her pool.


Question: Why did you even buy the Size Medium khaki cargo maternity pants when you know dang well you're not a medium?
Answer: Hormones. They were only $2 at the Salvation Army, and I got 2-months wear out of them, and I'll fit back into them on my way down, and the Size L pants are still a little bit too big, so it would have been laughable two months ago. And shut up, ok.


Question: If you thought you were so hot as to be a medium, why are you wearing a size XL maternity bathing suit that clearly does not fit?
Answer: I held out in my regular suit as long as I could, but the gash now makes bikinis unsightly. Besdies, the suit was a hand-me-down from my sister, and I am too cheap to buy a maternity suit and I am kind of icked out about getting one secondhand from not-my-sister. Hence, we have a problem. Although the end-of-the-summer is upon us, I could probably pick one up on clearance now. I'll jump out to Old Navy online and be right back.

Twenty bucks at Old Navy (and good luck finding a top and bottom that are the right size and same pattern since they are all on clearance and sold as separates). Seems a wee bit pricey to me for a suit I will only wear a few times. Let's see, where else can I try. JC Penney has suits sold as suits for $20 too, but no weird looking for same pattern/size combo there. And the suit is nicer. Let's see what else. Kohl's has nada. Carson Pirie Scott has zippo. MOtherhood has ugly suits for $20. Gap has a one-piece for $15 but it's not very flattering. I need a little something to distract the eye, if you know what I'm saying. THe suit is a little plain. Target - $35. A Pea in the Pod - what was I thinking? THey are mega-pricey. Lo*Mart $19, not ugly. Free shipping to store or go to the store on my way home and buy it. Maybe. I don't really need a second suit. Maybe I can just throw some safety pins on the XL suit I have and call it done.


Question: Safety pins??? Are you really that cheap and ((insert name of a certain former Eastern bloc peoples))?
Answer: I guess I could sew it instead of pinning it.

Wednesday at noon is the center of the workweek

My husband, upon hearing that I might discover the baby's sex and not tell him, decided he can probably make the ultrasound appointment after all.

I want to revise my set-in-stone prediction about Bobo's birth. I am scrapping the whole thing. Given new information, I want to revise (almost) everything.

Day: Monday, November 24, 2008 (Change to Friday, October 31, 2008)
Gender: Girl (change to Boy)
Length: 22" (Change to 21" long)
Weight: 8 lbs 13 ounces (Change to 7 lbs, even)
Miscellany: Blue eyes, curly dark hair, born before noon, puffy lips like Angelina Jolie and a round face that is slightly reddish (I'll stick with blue eyes, curly dark hair, and puffy lips, but I'm moving time-of-birth to the afternoon)

While not googling my self into a frenzy yesterday, I ran across this study that says that Boys are the more likely outcome in placenta previa pregnancies. The proportion of boys born goes from 50.9% to 54.3%, which might not seem like a lot, but 54.3% means that only 45.7% of previa babies are girls. So, you are about 20-percent more likely to have a boy than a girl (statistics ROCK!) with a previa pregnancy. Since I have no preference, I am fine with it either way. It's just fun and interesting and not-at-all scary to talk about.

And then, while googling, I found this salon piece about a woman who gets a placenta previa diagnosis and wants to know everything (probably including how to perform her own c-section with a butter knife, should the need arise). I think she and I are soulmates.

Oh, and here is a fascinating piece on Placenta Previa from the 1879 Transacations of the Indiana State Medical Society. Man, I love Google. Let us all now say a little atheistic prayer that we are not living in 1879. Whew.

Does This Make Me Sneaky?

I have that follow up, placenta following ultrasound scheduled for August 18th.

Prior to scheduling it, I consulted with my husband. He had a preference for time and date (I gave him 6 choices), and he voiced a preference for location (the place where he gets a chair). I did not want to go to the Chair Place because that is where I did the infertility ultrasounds and it's sort of a downer there, but the bathroom is in the room, so that helps. The other, newer places have changing rooms and whatnot but apparently no chairs. Whatever.

Now, it turns out my husband cannot make it to the ultrasound due to a work conflict (or a confliction, as I like to say). I am a little nervous about what this ultrasound will show, but I know that the tech won't tell me anyway. I'll get the results when I go to the ob on Thursday (the appointment which my husband also cannot make). So, I was thinking, just for the heck of it, how about I find out the baby's sex when I go to the ultrasound and then not tell him?!?!

What do you think?

Questions and Answers

Q: What was I doing that prompted my husband to comment, "You do know meth is not a creme, right?"

A: I was trying to dissolve the powder from a benadryl capsule in rubbing alcohol to spray on my allergic dermatitis and when he asked what I was doing, I jokingly told him I was making meth to help pay for Pampers Swaddlers. Those things are pricey. (Jokes aside, we don't buy name-brand diapers for day time after the newborn period. My kids will be just fine having their heineys covered in generic thank you.)


Q: Am I completely nuts?

A: No, not completely. I know that woman are not supposed to cut their hair when pregnant. I know that Face Puff can sneak up out of no where leaving that cute pixie cut looking a little bit more like lesbian truck driver than you wanted, but I now sport an 8" pony tail and I am dying to cut it off and send it to Pantene Beautiful Lengths. I've done it before (less than 2 years ago, and I have 8" of hair already), and I want to do it again. Do you think Face Puff might come for me?


Q: How did I answer Chuckles's question: Is it hard to get the baby out of your tummy?

A: I hugged him because he has been refusing to acknowledge a baby in my tummy (which is totally fine...he keeps saying that it's just food in there but he has a baby (or five babies) in his back). Then, I told him it was hard to get the baby out, but that I would go to the hospital and the doctor would help me. That's the truth, but it doesn't seem that simple.

Well, it never is the thing you worry about, is it?

One. I mentioned the gash, no? Yes, I see I did. In that post, I mentioned that Neosporin was applied to the wound. It turns out I developed contact dermatitis (allergy) from the Neosporin. So, now I am using a Benadryl spray on the wound and topical anti-itch cream. I asked the ob what I could use on it, and he asked to see it. He actually asked if I had fallen into poison ivy on my way out of the garden. He has also forbidden from going in that garden the rest of this summer.

Two. After last summer's little visit with food poisoning at a street fair, I actually asked my husband whether he thought I was allowed to go to the Pierogi Festival. Fortunately, he agreed and now I am 10 pounds of lightly fried, filled dough heavier. And about 20 bucks lighter.

Three. I did have some concerns about the repeat c-section, but I had mostly come to terms with it. I had fantasies about getting to the hospital well-dilated and having them let me try. However, given some new information, I am completely comfortable with the c-section. At my ultrasound (wherein we stared but did not determine the sex), it was discovered that I have partial placenta previa. Julie Alittlepregnant covered placenta previa about 900x better than I ever could, so go learn what it is there. Now, that you're back, you can see that a c-section is probably a really good idea (also placental location makes it unlikely baby will turn out of its current breech position). Sure, the placenta can migrate, and often does, but I'm not a risky person and mine was identified after 20 weeks, so we'll hope it moves, but we'll have a plan in place in case it doesn't.

So, why did I get placenta previa? Well, I've thought a lot about it, and I have some risk factors: previous uterine surgery, previous pregnancy, poor endometrial vascularization, and age over 30. And I guess I'd rather it be me (with my obsessive need to know things) than someone who elected not to have an ultrasound and did not find out until it was too late.

Even when the cervix is not covered, but the placenta is just lying low, there is a real possibility of severe post-partum hemmorage requiring blood transfusion (because uterine contractions after birth close off the blood vessels to the uterus and contractions are not as effective on the bottom half of the uterus). So, my husband is on stand-by should that be necessary (probably won't be but our blood type is the same and he's a donor and we're in a blood shortage here, so I'm keeping him in reserve and eating iron-rich foods to prevent anemia if it comes to that). I have also told my husband that if things get bad enough and any choices need to be made, they can have my uterus. I seriously doubt it would come to that, but I think it's better for him to know that up front than to have to make that kind of decision himself in an emergent situation.

Julie says, "Aside from complications of prematurity, previa babies also seem to experience a higher incidence of growth restriction and congenital physical anomalies."

Because of poor placental placement, there can be compromised blood flow to the placenta, and hence the baby. Sometimes this means smaller babies than otherwise expected. Our baby is measuring over the 90th percentile (a week ahead or so). So, at this point, blood flow to the baby seems just fine. Fine fine fine. And being ahead on growth means that things would have to get pretty bad for us to wind up with IUGR.

As for the higher incidence of congenital physical anomalies, all I have to say is everything looks OK so far. And really, I am not terribly concerned about numbers of fingers and toes and cleft lips or palates. I worry about organs and brains and those are all doing well and accounted for.

So, what do I worry about? Prematurity. That's pretty much it. Once the cervix starts to soften and thin (which can start any time here although it has a long way to go), bleeding can occur. If it can't be stopped, the baby is delivered or you are placed on bed rest until lung maturity can be assured and then you are delivered. Or, you are delivered because it's safer for everyone to be out than in. That is my fear.

If the placenta does not migrate up, there is no way in the world I will be having a baby on November 24th as I predicted (foolishly). If the placenta continues to cover the exit, the c-section will be performed sooner rather than later. In a complication-free pregnancy, I was concerned about that and wanted the extra 2 or 3 weeks of development. In a placenta previa pregnancy, I will take a healthy, live baby at 37 weeks thankyouverymuch.

I will be monitored to note the progression of my placenta. In less than 4 weeks, I will be back on the ultrasound table finding out whether my placenta has migrated away from the exit. If it has, I will sigh a big sigh of relief and go about the next 10-13 weeks of my pregnancy a little lighter with a spring in my step. If it hasn't, I will stay on pelvic rest (what, I didn't mention that?) and probably have more frequent monitoring from there on out. If it stays previa, I will probably ask about the betamethasone steroid shots to prod along lung development.

Also, if I have any bleeding, spotting, staining, hint of blood at all, I am to report to the hospital. I forgot to ask whether I was supposed to go to the ER or L&D, so I guess that's what I'll ask the doctor's office when I call them on my way to the hospital should that need arise. In the general course of my life, I am never more than 2 or 3 miles from some hospital, so I am really not that worried. I will have the next ultrasound completed before our next vacation, so we can re-evaluate whether I still want to go once we know more.

Oh, and I have not been put on any kind of light duty restriction at all (other than the aforementioned pelvic rest) so I guess I can continue cutting the grass and vaccuuming. Or something.

Well, writing down my plan and reassuring both of you (how many of you are reading this?) has actually made me feel better. Woo. Who knew?

So, to recap, I was worried about the VBAC and the progesterone supplementation when I should have been worried about the Placenta Previa.

And in secondary recap: When diagnosed prior to delivery, most mothers and babies are just fine. Fine. Maybe a little early, maybe a little small, and certainly justifiably a little freaked out, but FINE. FINE. And did I mention fine.

It's not yet autumn, so what's with the fall

I was in my FIL's garden picking cucumbers with Chuckles. THere were many to get. I had to move to a different location in the garden to get at the rest, so I moved a little to my left. And then, I completely lost my balance, fell forward, hit the 2-foot high metal fence (rusty, jagged metal), tripped over it, fell to the side, hit the rebar holding the chicken wire up, punctured my abdomen, and then fell over the fence out of the garden and into the grass.

I screamed. Like a little girl. Because it hurt. And I was scared, and I was basically alone (with only Chuckles who was still in the garden with me). So, I lay on the ground, gripping my side to stop the bleeding for what seemed like a really long time but was probably only 45 seconds. I did not cry. I was too scared to cry.

I got up, got Chuckles safely out of the garden and staggered into my in-law's house. I yelled at Mr. Long-Suffering that we were going home NOW. He came quickly (for him). I was already halfway to getting a ZipLoc bag and filling it with ice because I was pretty sure swelling was to follow. It was then that I lifted my shirt to show him. There was no blood. There was no puncture. But there was a four-inch long red gash that was over an inch wide at the worst, and it didn't look good. However, it is on my side not out front where I keep the baby. So, I wasn't too worried about the impact. I told my husband that if it had been a few inches closer to the middle, we'd be on our way to the ER right now, but since it's off to the side, we'll go home, ice it, and just make sure it's not too bad and that Puppet Show keeps moving.

I couldn't sleep in over-the-belly pants because the gash is right where the elastic would be. So, I slept in no pants. Whee. I noticed that I also have a similar bright red gash on my right elbow where I hit the fence/rebar as well. Mr. Long-Suffering put neosporin on my side for me (even that stung) and I slept. Puppet Show continues to move. I'm not too worried that I did any permanent damage. My tetanus shot is up-to-date, so I guess I'm good but clumsy. And I have vowed not to go into the garden again until next summer.

This could have been so much worse, and I am thankful that it wasn't. The End.

I guess I've always liked puppets

So, we decided to tell Chuckles that mommy is going to have a baby. (This is called hubris. It is from the Greek meaning whoa, you totally just jinxed yourself.) We said that there was a baby in mommy’s tummy. And since the only times we’ve talked about there being a baby in mommy’s tummy were looking at pictures of when I was pregnant with Chuckles, he asked if it was him. No, it’s not you. There’s a new baby in mommy’s tummy and when it comes out, you will be the big brother. ((Big Smile on His Face)) So, we went along like that for a while. I mentioned that the baby would be his brother or sister. He seemed unimpressed. So, I dropped it. Later, Daddy asked Chuckles what was in mommy’s tummy and he replied A Puppet Show, so from now on, the baby will no longer be referred to as BoBo, but instead as Puppet Show.

Now, the real question, whose baby book gets that story?

Lest You Think....

Lest you think I've gone soft with this easygoing pregnancy attitude of mine, I'd like to reassure you that NeurotiCarrie is still alive and well.

Today I had the big ultrasound. The 20-week fetal anomalies scan. (To prove I am a little easygoing, I did not, in fact, go for the u/s at exactly 20 weeks. I am 21.5 wks.)

I grilled the ultrasound technician good. I don't think she knew what hit her. So, I learned the following good news:

• Cervical is at least 3.4 cm long and tightly closed
• Heartbeat is 143 and steady
• brain is present and accounted for
• 4 chambers to the heart are beating appropriately
• we have a 3-vessel umbilical cord
• the placenta looks good and Doppler flows assure us that everything is A-OK fine
• stomach - check
• arms, legs, and genitals are all present and appropriate (what those genitals are, I cannot say as I do not know...I looked at the them. Mr. Long-Suffering looked at them. The technician looked at them. The technician knows, but we did not ask her to divulge that information. I may google pictures later to see if anything I saw looks like anything.)
• Bobo weighs 1 lb 2 ounces +/- 3 ounces, which is good and big. I grow them big.

So now, for your viewing pleasure, I give you the ultrasound photo of a profile of Bobo's head. Bobo is sucking his/her thumb in the picture.

And here is a photo of Bobo taken from the outside outside while i was on vacation last week.

Oh, I had ben all excited that I made it half way through my pregnancy this time gaining only 4 pounds, whereas last time, I had gained 20 (of the eventual 65) by now. However, this is not true. I weighed myself again and I have gained 8 lbs, which according to Dr. Internet is completley average and normal and that I will gain 0.5 to 1 pound per week from here on out. So, there you have it. I maintain that the entire 8 pound has gone to my chest. I dare you to say otherwise.

Is it wrong...?

That I miss wine?

That I want wine?

That I am counting the months until I can have wine again?

And Mojitos?

I think this is a craving, in fact. One which I will not indulge.


When I was pregnant with Chuckles, I did all the right things, avoided all the wrong things, thought happy thoughts, and everything. And he still didn't sleep through the night until (uhhh, still waiting on that). And was intolerant of cows' milk (almost better). And gets recurrent ear infections and refuses to take off his own shoes. So this time around I am doing the bare minimum in terms of health and safety of fetus. Here in order, are the things I am doing in rank of how much they will help.

1. Wearing a seat belt while riding in the car
2. Avoiding alcohol and drugs
3. Taking prenatal vitamins (prior to conception and while pregnant)
4. Getting prenatal care
5. Eating a diet rich in fruits, vegetables, and whole grains
6. Not cleaning the litter box
7. Not getting x-rays or handling chemicals
8. Not eating forbidden foods like lunch meat, tile fish, and feta cheese even when I want to do those things

THings I am doing this time, that I avoided last time: eating sushi, tasting (one half-sip) wines and spirits, eating peanuts, Benzoyl Peroxide to cure the "glow" of pregnancy, exercising as much as feels comfortable, and so on.

I have put risk into perspective and am living by the statistics of what is really important, what is actually likely, how hard it is to do/avoid, and what the effects will be. For example, contracting a parasite from sushi is very rare and the consequences are not dire. Uncomfortable, yes, but not life threatening. Drinking while pregnant may not be life-threatening, but the outcome for the child is not good. Not good. Dying in a car accident is statistically more likely than a lot of things, so a seat belt I wear (all the time, regardless of the state of my uterus). It is easy to avoid tile fish and king mackeral, so it's not onerous to do that. Problems traced to that are pretty remote, but the ease of avoiding it means it's no big deal. I like lake perch and have had it one time while pregnant. Moderation on that.

So, that's where I am. HOpe you are well.