Tag: Crazies

Because I’m just a little crazy sometimes

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Ramblings of a pregnant girl

Because that’s pretty much how my mind’s working these days, and yes, I still call/think of myself as a girl, even at age 33. Moving on…

So I REALLY can’t believe that Della won’t be my only child in what could be a matter of days. Yes, this pregnancy was planned and not a surprise, but I guess it never dawned on me how much I was going to miss having just her little self running around. I just hope I can be a good mom to both of them when Dv2.0 gets here. I know a newborn needs a lot of time and attention, but there’s no way I’m going to ignore anything about D. I just hope I can handle it.

This time being home with her and not working has been so much more enjoyable than I expected, I can barely stand it. I absolutely love being everything for her all day, even though I’m sure there’s stuff she’s missing out on that they’d be doing at daycare. No, we haven’t done nearly as many art projects as I would have liked or arranged as many play dates or explored more books at the library, but I think she’s still learning and progressing as she should be. She says more and more words each day, she’s excited to see us when she wakes up every morning, she really has had zero major meltdowns, and she’s just so happy. That’s most important and a good sign, right?

It honestly gives me anxiety now when I have to think about going back to work at some point next year. I have been able to do some editing/proofreading work since my job ended this summer which definitely helps to tack onto my severance bundle, and it’s something I would love to continue year-round as a work-at-home gig. Whether or not I could actually build up enough of it to really count as even a part-time second income is the wrench in the plan. I bet I could, but I think I would need 1-2 days of daycare each week back to get big chunks of work done. Especially with 2 kids at home, I’m not sure how well it would work trying to get multiple hours of editing in each day and juggle their demands at the same time.

Speaking of 2 kids, where are the Cliffs notes for how to do that? Before I knew I would be jobless when Dv2.0 came, it was easy – D would be in daycare during the days still, so I could focus all attention on the baby for a couple months. Then when I went back to work they’d both be going to the same place. Simple as pie. Now, I have no idea how I’m going to survive after that first week when I’m home alone with both. D is such a great kid I really don’t think she’ll have a total attitude reversal and turn into a pint-sized terror, but who knows. I just hope the baby is as great and calm as she was. If we get a colicky kid on our hands this time, I may not be so composed as I was with D as a newborn.

I hope D adjusts well to Ryan doing more stuff with/for her when the baby comes, stuff that I mainly do now, simply because I’m here all day with her. Like right now she doesn’t want him to read her bedtime stories anymore, just me. Which is weird, since she’s always loved having both of us do it. I think it may have something to do with the fact that she now likes to pull up my shirt and put her head on my belly when we rock before she goes to sleep so she can be with the baby, but I could be totally wrong. It is super cute, though, how she does that. She always says, “me baby” and just rests her head down there with her arms at my sides. I about die. I hope it’s a good sign that she’ll actually be excited to see and know the baby when he/she arrives instead of feeling any sort of jealousy or resentment.

Like I mentioned in my weekly pregnancy post on Friday, I am now done with my pre-baby to-do list, and that elates me. I have really been worried that we’re just going to be totally unprepared when this kid comes for some reason, but having all the stuff crossed off that bad boy eases my worries a lot. The crib is clean and set up and D’s in her big bed well; the car seat is washed and ready to be installed; we have a bassinet again; the newborn clothes are washed and put away; the newborn diapers are stocked; etc., etc. Now I’m just willing that kid to stay put for a couple more weeks, and we’ll be golden. I just need to remember to keep cherishing these days with just D while I can.

I’m planning to make a couple batches of meals to freeze this week, just another thing to get ready for a house with a newborn again. Lasagna, spaghetti bake, another chicken casserole-type dish. You know, some staples. This is definitely not something I even thought about when D was born, but I figured that since I’m home and should have the time, it’s something I should do, right? How did I get all this stuff accomplished when I was pregnant with D and working full-time? I guess it was a little easier back then because there wasn’t already another kid in the house, but this time should be easier too since we already have all the baby essentials from her.

Hmm… (it’s funny because D now imitates me saying “hmm” all the time, complete with her little finger tapping on her pursed lips) I guess that’s about it for now. The new-baby nerves are in full effect, so it feels good to just get some of this random stuff out of my head. I think the thing making me most nervous this time around is the logistics of it all – when will labor start, what will we do with D if it happens suddenly in the middle of the night (since my water didn’t break last time i don’t know what will happen if it does this time), will she be ok with me having to stay in the hospital a couple nights while she goes home with Daddy, will my mom be able to get up here in time to watch D while we go to the hospital if things do progress during the day again? See, stuff like that. But I know it’ll all work out in the end and we’ll end up a new family of 4.

Wow.

 

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Well this is no fun

So you know how I mentioned that I’ve developed carpal tunnel syndrome in my right arm these past couple weeks? Yeah, it can kiss my @$*!

Last night it got so bad I finally had to get out of bed at 4am and move onto one of the recliner ends of the couch in the living room. I thought a little elevation in my upper body would help the fluid stop pooling in my wrist/arm/hand. Ha! Apparently that was far too logical a thought to have for this body.

It was a little better for a few minutes, then the pain just started right up again. It was like someone was twisting a knife in the middle of my hand, with the stabbing pain shooting into my fingers and up to my elbow. So that was fun.

Finally, sometime shortly before I needed to get up this morning to take Ryan to work, I put the recliner all the way up so I was in a full sitting position with my legs out, arm still resting on pillows next to me, and that seemed to do the trick. Unfortunately I ended up getting about 3 seconds of sleep in those last 2+ hours of the night.

You’re really preparing me for those middle of the night feedings, aren’t you, kid?

Don’t get me wrong – I have thoroughly enjoyed this pregnancy again and really, REALLY want this baby to stay in there for at least another week (2 would be the best, 10 days would be better, but i’ll settle for a week so we’re back from peoria), but man oh man. This arm thing is miserable.

So if you see me walking around looking like a newborn-mother-zombie already, blame my arm. Or if you see me walking around looking totally well-rested but minus my right hand and forearm, you’ll know I finally had to take some drastic measures to get these last few precious weeks of sleep.

 

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Tear down the wall!

Ryan and I went to see Roger Waters perform “The Wall” at Wrigley Field Friday night, and it was pretty amazing. The stage was enormous, and the wall they constructed covered the entire outfield, from foul pole to foul pole. It was over 3 stories high, and it served as a giant projection screen for much of the show, too.

The wall was seriously incredible.

If you’ve ever seen this production, or even just know the songs from this Pink Floyd double-album, you know “The Wall” is rife with anti-government, anti-politics, anti-establishment overtones. So there were plenty of hammers, a giant fascist pig floating around the stadium at one point, a video tribute to fallen soldiers from all eras projected on the massive wall, a model bomber plane that crashed into the wall in flames, an opening montage of fireworks, and a general f*** the man sentiment throughout the concert.

Doubling as a jumbotron for those not on the field.
They built up the wall during the 1st act - almost complete here.
Hammers and machine guns - pretty typical for this show.
Bring 'em home!

Ryan is a HUGE Pink Floyd fan, and although I’m not nearly as big a fan as he is, I do know most of the songs from the album. In particular though, my favorites from this show were Waters’ duet with himself from a 1980 show singing “Mother”, “Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2” (the one with, “hey, teacher! leave those kids alone!”), and “Comfortably Numb”. You know, all the songs non-Pink Floyd fans know.

I must admit, the huge tribute to all the fallen soldiers was extremely moving, especially since they projected a number of civilians too. It began with his father, who was a British Army pilot shot down in World War II and included a ton of children from today’s conflicts. It literally brought me to tears.

The fallen projected on the completed wall at intermission.

The show ended with the wall coming down amid chants of “Tear down the wall!” as the giant floating pig covered in fascist slogans that I mentioned above was grabbed by the crowd and ripped to shreds. It was a pretty amazing spectacle.

"Tear down the wall!" The show ended with the full band on stage in front of the destroyed wall.

Unfortunately, the awesomeness was marred by one huge lowlight. Our seats were excellent – front row directly behind the Cubs dugout, first 2 seats on the aisle, almost dead center of the stage. Basically as close as you could get to being on the field without paying the extra $100+. But apparently the entire rest of our section had dubbed these as “no standing” seats.

I'm not kidding, our seats were phenomenal.

Now, riddle me this – when have you ever gone to a concert, let alone in an outdoor venue and seeing PINK FLOYD, and not stood at any point in the show? Yeah, me neither. NEVER.

Someone in at least each of the handful of rows behind us at some point yelled at Ryan to sit down. And to his credit, he kept his cool pretty well for almost the entire show. He was extremely accommodating, trying to either sit on the back of his chair so as not to be up so high, seeing if standing in the aisle instead would work (it didn’t), or simply just sitting back down after a minute.

He was even proactive, knowing this was going to get ugly if they didn’t shut up, and asked the usher 1) if we were, in fact, allowed to stand in those seats (of course we were!), and 2) if we could be moved because of all the complaining. The usher was very understanding, told us that we could definitely stand in our seats, came down and even told the people behind us so (too bad that didn’t shut them up), but was unfortunately unable to move us at intermission.

The worst offenders were this group of 3 women directly behind us. They obviously were neither Roger Waters nor Pink Floyd fans, and had to look the band up on Google on their phones at intermission. Huh?? Why are you sitting in such great seats then? At one point, the chick in the middle reached around and shined the camera flash on her phone right in Ryan’s face. WHO DOES THAT??

Finally with about 10 minutes left in the show we simply left our seats. We moved over about 2 sections, where EVERYONE was standing, and watched the remainder from there, in seats not nearly as good as the ones FOR WHICH WE PAID. As we were walking up the aisle to move, the crowd of course thought we were being kicked out and shouted at us to “enjoy the rest of the show you asshole”, and one guy from a few rows back even threw his beer at Ryan. WHAT?!?!?

Sorry for all the caps, but my god, people. How about some maturity? You are grown-ass men! And yes, I know Ryan was finally shouting back at the end, but come on. I can’t disagree with him at all – we were in no way in the wrong, we had to stand to see the stage over the crowd of people on the field, and we weren’t even standing the whole time, only during the climactic songs when Waters urged the crowd to get into it himself.

You know I hate confrontation, so my route was to simply ignore the heckling, and it seemed to work. No one said anything to me directly. Granted, I never once turned around to look at who the heckler was or said one word back to anybody, and I did try to keep Ryan from doing so. But finally he’d had enough and I couldn’t do anything about it. I saw neither the phone flash nor beer being thrown since I was trying to be as oblivious as possible and simply watch the show, and maybe it’s better that I missed those antics. I think I would’ve flipped out on those douchebags if I had witnessed such childish, ridiculous behavior. As the only 100% sober person there, I can say without bias that everyone was just being stupid.

We did get to see the end of the show from the other seats and didn’t have to miss anything, but still. Talk about a horrible way to end an otherwise spectacular concert. I felt particularly bad for Ryan since I knew how much he was looking forward to this and Pink Floyd is his all-time favorite band, but fortunately he said it didn’t ruin his entire weekend, just that little piece of the show. Overall he was still definitely glad we went. Good.

So sorry Wrigley fans, but your concertgoers are some of the worst, most obnoxious people I’ve ever been around. This experience has definitely soured me on ever going back there. At least the rest of the weekend was fantastic – we spent the remainder at my mom and stepdad’s house, enjoyed some delicious smoked pork from the inaugural run of their new smoker/grill, soaked up as much sun as we could stand before it got too hot, and watched Della run around playing with everything in sight.

Della LOVED her Cookie Monster ice cream from the Plush Horse! And her new Elmo flip-flops.

Summer is here, my friends. And I say bring it on! Just not at Wrigley!

 

 

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What’s the big deal?

As you know if you know me, or may have gathered if you don’t know me but have ever stumbled upon this blog before, I’m a very laid-back person. I don’t get riled easily, I don’t follow controversy, I HATE confrontation, and I’m not a fan of debate. (which brings back terrible grade school memories, ick)

For this reason I rarely discuss hot-button topics, here or in my non-internet life – politics, religion, etc. But there is one topic which gives people fits that I just don’t get – homosexuality.

What the?? I can hear many eyeballs putting on the brakes right now. And that’s ok. Like I said, I know this is a very hot-button topic, sometimes scalding actually. And kind of out of left field since lately I’ve been talking mainly about being pregnant here.

But I read an excellent post by Glennon over at Momastery today, and it got me thinking. And agreeing.

What’s the big deal if someone is gay?

I just don’t understand it. How can that possibly determine their worth as a person? Does one’s sexuality really serve as a legitimate foundation for judging every other quality about them, usually without even knowing them personally? Their work ethic, their morals, their overall ability to simply be a contributing, functioning human being?

And why, too, should that be the determining factor in what rights they are given? The right to marry, the right to have children, the right to actually be happy like the rest of us “normal” people (please know that i mean that in the most sarcastic way possible. gay or straight certainly does not determine normality in a person. actually, what does? who’s the standard for “normal”? uh-oh, there’s another whole post…)?

Again, I just don’t get it. Call me liberal, call me anti-religion (which i kind of am. not like i hate god and all organized religion, but i just don’t have a very strong religious lifestyle), call me crazy, but being gay certainly does not make a person unworthy of the love and happiness a straight person has. Hell, I know a lot of gay people who are infinitely happier than many straight people I know.

I really hope I can raise our children to be tolerant, no not even tolerant but unquestionably accepting, of this also. Besides her absolute safety, the 1 thing I want D to know above all else (well, and Dv2.0 now too) is that she can come to us at absolutely any time, anywhere, with anything, and know that we will never love her any less. Yes, we may be severely disappointed and possibly heart-broken, but we’ll never not love her.

You’re gay? So what! You got a tatto? So what (as long as you were 18 and it was legal)! You’re pregnant? Umm, well not so what, but we’re definitely not going to abandon you. You’re in jail? Ok, so maybe my “so what” answer wouldn’t work for everything, but I could never stop loving her. Yes I’d be beyond pissed and trying to imagine the worst punishment she’d ever endured, but the love would always be there.

So I guess this is just a long way of saying why is being gay such a big deal? Love whoever you want to love. Be happy.

 

 

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Off-kilter

Last night while taking D for a walk in the stroller, I realized that I am totally incapable of walking in a straight line.

I know, weird, but true.

For whatever reason, I can’t keep on a straight track, even with a guide to hold onto like the stroller. I constantly veer a little to one side, then back to center, then off-center again. I noticed I did the same thing while jogging with her in the stroller last week, too.

(side note – jogging with a non-jogging stroller sucks. i do not recommend it.)

And I don’t just do it when I’m pushing the stroller. Whenever I go for a run I’m always all over the side walk. Talk about the least efficient route possible. I’ve probably added miles to my runs over the years simply by not being able to keep a straight course.

I wonder why this is. No, it’s not the pregnancy-induced center of gravity shift. My belly isn’t nearly that big yet, fortunately. Plus, like I said, it always happens, pregnant or not.

Anyone else do this, or am I the only off-kilter one in the bunch?

Ah well, as long as I don’t start tripping every time I wander I guess I won’t worry about it. For that would make for some really long and painful walks.

 

 

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The witching hour

I’ve heard a lot of parents lamenting that time of day when their kids tend to go a little more berserk than normal. It’s apparently usually late afternoon or early evening, and it always seems to happen around the time said parents are trying to get dinner made and on the table.

And I’ve always secretly heaved a sigh of relief that D doesn’t really have one. A witching hour, that is. She’s normally very cheery and playful when we get home from daycare, ready to eat soon after we arrive, then happy to play around in her toy area for most of the night until bedtime.

Bedtime can be another story, but when that happens it’s usually because she’s too tired and doesn’t want to trust me that she’s ready to sleep. Silly girl, still hasn’t learned that Mommy knows best, even when she screams otherwise.

Unfortunately, we seem to have discovered her witching hour this week, on the dawn of her 20 month birthday. And how lucky are we? It occurs at 2am. Whee!

The past 2 nights she has awoken in fits of howling right around that time. Did she hear a noise? Did she have a bad dream? Did she just want to rebel against the rest of our world who likes to SLEEP at that hour of night?

Now, she did start a cold on Sunday that has progressed over the past 2 days, so there is that aspect, but still. 2 nights in a row? That’s a little much, my dear. She might average waking once a week or so, but rarely on consecutive nights.

And last night was awful. The sleeping cough she almost always gets with her colds began, so I knew it was probably going to be a rough go. Little did I know that she would wake approximately 78 times between 2-4am. That was great fun.

Poor R is suffering through the adult version of D’s cold right now, and he even got up to help with her fits last night. We took turns, alternating shifts. He gave her some baby Tylenol at one point, but I’m not sure how much it helped. I was trying to magically plug my ears and pretend there was not a wailing child in the house.

So, all this to say, I’m tired. We got a brand new mattress set this weekend, and I’m now 0-2 on nights enjoying it. The thing is an absolute monster – king size pillow-top, and my feet don’t even touch the ground when I sit on the side of it! It’s taller than D now too, so she gets frustrated that she can’t pull herself up on it like she could on our old one.

I envisioned nights of sweet, cushioned, squeak-less slumber, but instead I’ve been greeted with incessant toddler screams and ghosts of pre-dawn terrors.

I do feel terrible for D – you can tell she’s uncomfortable and it took everything I had to wake her up this morning when it was time to get ready for school. But I really hope tonight is better.

Maybe this is payback for inwardly thanking my lucky stars that we don’t have that late-day witching hour. Because if I had to choose between 4pm and 2am, I’d happily say BRING IT ON 4PM!!

 

 

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Oh well, I got a story

I’m not sure what it is about me and R, but it seems like bizarre things always happen to us. Always. It’s as if our lives are governed by Murphy’s Law of Whiskey.Tango.Foxtrot?!

And never do things go “just right” or “as planned”. Never. There are always wrenches flying into our spokes, causing us to go veering off in some wild direction and usually crashing. Or at least ending up at our destination with a nasty scratch.

Fortunately this story I’m about to tell falls more into the weird stuff category than the painful crash category, but it made me laugh and think “yeah, that’s about right” when I heard it nonetheless.

Hopefully you will too. Laugh, that is. Not shake your head at the oddity that is our existence. Ahem.

This conversation transpired one afternoon last week over IM. R had been looking to buy a juicer for a little while and finally found the one he wanted that morning. He had just returned from making his purchase when the following was relayed:

R:  pretty sure I just bought a stolen juicer

Me:  wha? uh-oh

R:  dude was sketchy as shit

Me:  yikes

as long as they don’t track you down

R:  showed up in a beat down mini van

smoking a swisher

very “eccentric”

definitely not someone who “has two and is selling one for his fiance”

Me:  ha!

is that what he said?

R:  yea

Me:  dang. yep, totally stolen

R:  I overpaid knowing that

oh well, I got a story

 

Now let’s hope we don’t get a knock on our door from the cops looking for that hot juicer.