Nesting

I've heard that when you get close to having your baby, that a mysterious nesting instinct kicks in. From what I've heard in classes and from other mommies, you get this undeniable urge to clean or vacuum or something. This concerns me because I don't really EVER have the urge to clean, I don't know how to clean properly and I really don't even think I've ever used our vaccuum. Seriously. I made a deal with Nick that I'll continue to fold his never ending supply of socks, t-shirts, and underwear if he takes on cleaning. He's 100% OK with this, as am I. Win-win.

So. Back to this mysterious nesting instinct. I was wondering how mine would manifest, since cleaning is completely unnatural to me. Low and behold, mine manifested itself in the form of organization, specifically attacking the pantry and fridge yesterday afternoon.

We got back from the grocery store on Sunday and as I was putting things away, I realized that there was no way I could put one more thing into the completely disorganized pantry, filled with some expired food. What happened next was a shelf by shelf purge of EVERYTHING in the pantry. Nick stood back and watched with awe as I threw out mystery sauces and dip mixes, old dog treats and expired canned goods.

This isn't the most flattering photo of me, pregnant, and plopped on the stool, but I can still feel the gratification of that overflowing garbage can and the auxiliary garbage bags that followed.

A short list

1. Woah belly - that ruffle on my shirt really accentuates the obvious
2. This weather makes Chino act like a puppy - I love it. 
3. Every week, we take two photos of me - one by a wall and one by the stairs. It started because my mom wanted me to stand in a doorway so she could see the belly progression, but we realized that most of our doorways opened into a mess of some sort, so we substituted stairs and added Chino.
4. How is it already been 37 weeks?!?

Rules

Since Nick and I have been together, I've been working to educate him on the rules of the female species. Most of these rules are ingrained in us as women, by our mothers, who learned from their mothers, etc. These same rules are pretty ridiculous when you think of them, but rules are rules. Every time I mention one, Nick rolls his eyes at the pure ridiculousness of them. Here are some key rules that he's learned so far. They're in no particular order and some may apply solely to me, but here it goes:

1. I (and most women) don't poop in public unless its a code red, level 3 emergency. Even then, great lengths are taken to ensure that anonymity is preserved and that I'm completely alone in an acceptable, private, clean restroom.
2. If I fart in public, he did it.
3. The women's shoe department in any store is a free for all. There isn't much order, its every woman for herself.
4. I don't pee at rest areas, so don't ask.
5. Women are raunchy, but mostly in the presence of other women and no, we won't share what we talked about.
6. If its on sale, I probably need it.
7. I'm not a crier - but if it relates to my dog, all bets are off (I'm crying as I type this, thanks to a Subaru commercial involving a chocolate lab)
8. What's mine is mine and what's his is ours

And the latest rule:

If my fingers are too swollen to wear my wedding and/or engagement ring, an acceptable substitute must be purchased so that it doesn't look like I'm an unwed spinster who got knocked up after a one night stand in a country music bar. 

When I unleashed this latest one on him, he just looked at me and said, "What?" He's used to my craziness, so to catch him off-guard with this one was pretty fun. I proceeded to explain to him that this was no joke. Women looked at things like this and when they saw another pregnant woman without a ring, they judge. We can't help it. 

Why do I care? I have no idea - maybe its the ingrained rules from my mom, or maybe its instincts or maybe its because I'm guilty of the judgement for naked fingers - horrible and insensitive, I know. Regardless, when I had to take my wedding band off, I was disappointed. It means a lot and I love wearing it, but I was afraid that it would have to be cut off of me if I didn't do something. Luckily, my engagement ring was always a tad too big, so I'm able to keep it on. At least, I look like he put a ring on it after he got me knocked up. Its very celebrity, if I do say so myself.

It happened

At the beginning of my pregnancy, I was in pseudo-denial about what was going to be happening to me, to Nick and to our family. I mean, I understood that yes, I was pregnant and that came with a whole list of changes that needed to happen immediately, but in the back of my head, I wasn't comprehending WHAT was going to happen. The fact that I had "no symptoms" and that it was taking me forever to start showing was fueling my denial in what was happening. Every time I would proclaim that I had no symptoms, Nick would remind me that I had just eaten an entire bag of potato chips or that the smell of grilled pineapple made me gag. He'd also remind me that I had a ponytail holder holding my jeans together because they wouldn't button. But you know, I had no symptoms.

As the knowledge of my bun in the oven became more public, friends at work would ask how I was doing and I'd (half) jokingly reply that I was fine, happily in denial that this whole thing was happening. I'd also add that I was expecting to have some major meltdown at an inappropriate time or place, probably shortly before the baby was born. I'd "ha ha" and then go about my business. Well, after months of making this idle threat/promise - it happened. On Saturday. At Dirty Franks Hot Dog Palace.

Do I know myself or what? It was supposed to be a fun day, Nick's birthday observed. Inappropriate time. Check. We had just been seated at Dirty Franks and were about to enjoy some tasty hot dog and tater tot goodness. Inappropriate place. Check. I am around 7 1/2 months pregnant. Yep - I squeezed this in before the baby was born. Check.

I think that the emotions, nerves and preparation all caught up with me somewhere in the middle of our "Baby Care Basics" class on Saturday morning. It was a great class, but it went through a ton of information, lots of do's and don'ts and if's and what-ifs, crammed into about 3 hours. My brain was trying to absorb everything that I could, so I can be the best mom that I can be and somewhere toward the end, it reached capacity. All I was hearing was all of the things that COULD happen if I didn't follow certain precautions or guidelines. Then I was afraid that I'd forget everything that I learned and would somehow mess up this little person before it had a chance to become a little person.

After we walked out of class, I had a horrible stomach ache. On our way to Dirty Franks, I was short with Nick, very cranky. He diagnosed me as hungry (yep, he was right), but we both missed the fact that part of my stomach ache was a huge knot that was brewing. When we sit down and he asked me what was wrong, the tears started. I cried about the crib bumper (apparently a death trap), about SIDS, about the next 5 weeks, about our changing lives and about my changing body. He listened to me and told me that everything was going to be ok. I believed him, and the meltdown was over.

In retrospect, I'm glad that the meltdown happened, as expected and that it was in a public place. Had it been in the car or at home, it would have turned into one of those cries that doesn't stop...you know the kind that happens when watching Beaches, by yourself, after a couple of glasses of wine? I don't know if there is meltdown, round 2, waiting to surface, but for now, I feel a little better and am now back to being focused on our new life that's about to happen.

Dear Baby,

If the old wives' tales that are apparently scientific fact are true, then you are going to be born with a full head of hair. If you're a girl, that means that the battles with your Daddy will start early as I try to accessorize you with bows and headbands. If you're a boy, then you're in luck because you're dodging a bullet there. My eating routine is now revolving around what will or will not give me heartburn and when I can eat so that I'm able to sleep without getting up in the middle of night to chug milk from the bottle (it has happened).

Apparently, you're just like me in that you like to eat lightly seasoned food, mostly carbs and no spices or tomatoes. Choosing meals has become a bit of a game with your Daddy and I as he tries to guess what I want to eat at the moment, all while taking into account the probability that whatever we choose will cause heartburn. My go-to dinner lately has been cereal, which you definitely approve of.  I'm not 100% sure if the heartburn is caused by the food I eat or the amount that I eat or caused by your potentially full head of hair.

Believe me, it takes a lot to be sure that you're growing big and strong, but things are getting crowded in there, so my portions have to be smaller and more frequent. I constantly carry a bag of cereal with me and try to have milk on hand at all times, since those seem to alleviate heartburn the best. I've been lucky that I haven't had to feed you any Tums. Mostly that's my stubbornness because I hate taking medicine of any kind. Ask your Daddy about that. It drives him crazy.

We just finished lunch, which was the other 1/2 of a chicken salad croissant and some potato chips. You must approve, because you're going crazy in my belly right now. I keep feeling you kick and squirm and move around, which is very different than the hiccups that you get when I drink something cold.

Its been totally surreal, getting to know your personality before I meet you and guessing at the baby that you'll be when I do. These small details are the ones that I don't want to forget.

Love,
Momma

The crazy is spewing from my mouth

I've been a "pretty nice pregnant lady" so far, but last weekend, I had a bit of a breakdown. It happened when Nick asked me about going to the Columbus Microbrew Festival. This is somewhere we've been before, and if you know me, you know that I love trying different beers and socializing. When he asked if I wanted to go, I realized that I really, really wanted to, but that it just wasn't going to happen for me. I'm getting to the point of my pregnancy where the thought of standing for long periods of time makes my back hurt and Baby Bean has taken up residence somewhere near my sciatic nerve, which is causing a bit of an ugly limp and a pain in my ass....literally.

So when we got home, I informed him that I was annoyed that his life hadn't changed much since I was pregnant and I was irrationally jealous. His answer was that he's been drinking less because I haven't been able to drink...which I found grossly unacceptable. The reality is that I'm the pregnant one and I have to make changes to my body and to my lifestyle to support the growth that's happening. Nick is doing wonderful in his role as "Most supportive husband ever" and sometimes, yes, that deserves a beer or two or four...and a sandwich made from unmicrowaved lunchmeat.

Travel

"My favorite thing is to go where I've never been."

A couple of weeks ago, Nick and I took some time to ourselves to travel to Arizona for some R&R before Baby Bean arrives. It was our last vacation as a party of two and we had a great time. We went to the pool, did a quick tour of Sedona and enjoyed some miniature golf. It was exactly what we both needed and it couldn't have come at a better time. The only difference between this and our previous vacations was that our typical pub-crawl night was replaced by a game of miniature golf at Castles and Coasters. Why am I mentioning this? Because I won. 

 

First stop: Lo-Lo's Chicken & Waffles (and Kool-Aid!)

A pregnant lady and an Indian in Sedona

Cactus flower with Sedona in the background

After lots of searching and some Internet research, we found Snoopy!

Victory was mine at Castles & Coasters