Nomads

The P family is hitting the road yet again. Luckily, this is our last planned jaunt out of town before the baby arrives. We're headed up to Fort Wayne for a couple of meetings tomorrow, and we are planning to head home on Saturday afternoon. Otis is depressed because he knows we're leaving, and I don't quite think he's figured out that he's tagging along. Nothing quite like a five hour car ride with a ginormous pregnant lady and a labradoodle. Lately it seems like he travels better than I.

On a technical note, my wonderful husband installed Firefox last night because I was having all sorts of trouble with the new IE crapping out. I suppose that means that pictures will resume. As soon as we get back, I'll take pics of the house so you can see what I meant by our living room looking like Christmas vomit. To test, though, here's the Thanksgiving picture of my family. My husband is very tall.

Strollin' in my 5.0

S is a person with wheels. I've just returned from Babies R Us with her travel system and extra car seat base. We can officially (and legally) bring her home from the hospital. Of course, based on my appointment this morning, we're not expecting her to debut quite yet. Everything still seems to be moving along well...she's growing at a good rate, she's turned the right way, and her heartbeat is still strong. All in all, I think she's a happy camper. She did not, however, like being poked at by the doctor. She spent a solid ten minutes wailing on my insides as hard as she could as soon as we left the office. I couldn't help but laugh. Somehow, we already think she inherited my pig-headedness. I just can't wait to see what she's like...not necessarily what she looks like (although I can't wait for that, either), but what her personality is like. It's just such an amazing thing...this little person is growing inside my belly, and she is going to have her very own personality. It's awesome.

In other baby news, the search for a diaper bag continues. There are lots of cute options (multiplied by about a billion when you add in purses that could be used as diaper bags) but very few of the options are "daddy-friendly." I don't want M to be embarrassed to go out alone with S because he has to carry some frou-frou diaper bag. At the same time, I don't want to carry around some hideous excuse for a bag, so I am looking for a happy medium. Any ideas or advice on choosing a diaper bag are welcome.

Other than that, we've officially moved into Christmas mode around here. The living room actually looks like Christmas vomited all over it, and that makes me laugh. We had to rearrange the furniture to fit the giant new tree in the room, and the new arrangement has Otis very frustrated. He can't get to the windows and his old route to the stairs is cut off. I'm sure he'll get used to it just in time for us to change everything back.

Happy Wednesday...

Home Sweet Home

Sigh. No more turkey until Christmas. I suppose I'll make it. We had a wonderfully relaxing Thanksgiving at my cousin's house. It was the largest holiday gathering (19 people) that M has ever attended, and I am certain it was the most food he's ever seen at once at a private residence. We were also able to spend time yesterday in Columbia with my "daddy family", and my aunt and her boys were in town from Florida, so I really feel like I got to spend some good quality time with family.

I am happy to be home, though, as I had a lot of trouble sleeping while we were gone. Granted, I have trouble sleeping here, too, but it's different, and I am looking forward to crawling into my own bed tonight. I hope everyone had a great holiday...it's time to get ready for Christmas around here!

For the record, I have tried numerous times to add soem Turkey Day pictures, but the upgraded IE isn't letting it happen...just another crazy Blogger/IE issue. Maybe someday...

I heart turkey

Most people like Christmas. Some are Halloween fans. Some are nuts for birthdays. Me? I like Thanksgiving. It is hands-down my favorite holiday. As I've gotten older, I've realized it's not quite as stress free as I always thought (getting everything to the table before it's cold and ruined can be a daunting task), but there are really very few expectations on turkey day. I love that...just hanging out with the family. I'm actually going home for Thanksgiving for the first time in five years, and I couldn't be more excited. I've had great holidays between then and now, but there is something about going home and having the holiday carried out as you remember it from childhood (with a few requisite casting changes, of course). I made pies yesterday afternoon- Caramel Pecan and Hot Fudge, and I wish that I could eat them right now. I've got to get the cranberries in the oven pretty soon so they'll be cool enough to travel with. Other than that, I am ready for Thanksgiving. Bring on the turkey and mashed potatoes and green beans and corn and rolls and EVERYTHING!

Otis is also ready for the holiday, but he'll be spending it without us. He got a nice new haircut yesterday afternoon, so he's back to looking like a cue ball. Actually, when he gets shaved, I've decided he looks like a mouse because his eyes sort of bug out of his little gray head. It's funny. Either way, he is staying home for Thanksgiving, and our friend Mike is taking care of him while we're away. To deal with the guilt of leaving him, I bought him a new ball. He's been having a great time, so I don't feel so awful. Ask me how guilty I feel when he tries to get in the car and go with me this afternoon. That's the real test.

Oh, big excitement in the P household. (Read: not exciting at all) I bought diapers for the first time yesterday, too. Pampers Swaddlers. And I got some wipes. I realized that we would technically be completely able to sustain S if she came early, as long as she didn't "use the facilities," so I decided to take care of that one. Of course, I'm also banking on my boobs working as milk factories. Cross your fingers. Know what I learned buying diapers? Diapers are expensive. At least they seem that way when you're buying the little tiny ones. It doesn't seem like a lot of bang for your buck!! Can't live without 'em, though. I wish that I was the kind of person who could handle cloth diapers. I'd love to think that my child and I aren't just adding garbage to the earth. Alas, I am cutting myself some slack on this one. Maybe I'll be one of those parents who potty trains at 15 months. Have you read about these people?? Over-acheivers.

Have a great Thanksgiving, peeps...complete with tryptophan-induced slumber around 3pm!!

Another day...

M and I spent another productive weekend working around the house. We even cemented our place amongst "real homeowners" on Saturday by replacing a light fixture. M also picked up leaves for what we hope is the last time and brought in the hoses and the outdoor furniture. The P family is ready for winter...at least on the outside. It was actually a good thing we got all of that done as it snowed Sunday night. Granted it was a dusting of snow, but it was snow just the same. Now we're just getting ready for the holidays. I've got all of the Christmas gifts bought and wrapped so we can deliver them to my families over Thanksgiving. I'm making pies and cranberries this afternoon and tomorrow, and Otis is heading to the groomer this afternoon. Our experiment with just having him brushed out over the winter isn't working out. His legs get all matted (not to mention he just looks kind of mangy), so we're going back to shaved Otis. I don't think he'll get too cold...maybe I'll fix his dog blanket just in case. Have I mentioned the super expensive dog blanket I bought him last year when we had him shaved for the first time? He chewed it off of himself. I made a mental note never to leave anything attached to him in his kennel again. Live and learn.

Of course, it's just a few short days until "decorate for Christmas" time, and I still haven't even bought fabric for the new stockings. I just cannot get motivated to go to the fabric store. For some reason, I hate going in there. I think it's because a check-out lady gave me a look and announced to me once in a very snooty tone, "you know this is embroidery thread, not sewing thread, don't you?" I replied that I did, in fact, know it was embroidery thread. It was for embroidering. Ever since then, the ladies that work in there always bother me. It doesn't help that I'm usually the only customer, but I still have to wait at the cutting counter before anyone will come over and help me. What are they doing anyway?

That's really all that's going on around here. It's a mundane life these days...

Are you kidding me?

Okay, I am ready for today's self-revelation. I am a wimp, and I act like a thirteen-year-old in that I use laughter as a coping mechanism when I am uncomfortable. Case in point: childbirth class last night. I grew up in the sticks, and I am certain that the boys' basketball coach who taught health class would've rather stabbed out his own eyeballs than show a childbirth video. Thus, until about 24 hours ago, I had never actually seen "birth." Ummmm, all I can say is, I want a C-section. M and I are sitting there in the dark auditorium of the hospital with about ten other expecting couples and WHAM! full on female parts with a head crowning. I wasn't ready for that. They should've warned me. I'm such a nerd that I covered my eyes at first. I finally got up the nerve to watch and the images are now burned into my retinas for eternity. Of course, the giggles didn't hit at that point- I was in shock. After the cute little baby heads popped out of their mommies, they showed the delivery of the placenta. I'm no idiot, I knew this was coming, I just had NO IDEA what a delivered placenta was going to look like. It looked like a cow bladder (or what I would imagine a cow bladder looks like...funny how it's easier for me to imagine a cow bladder than a placenta). Anyway, the giggles hit when they showed a doctor messing around with all the afterbirth in a big bucket. (I'm giggling now just thinking about it.) I was so totally grossed out looking at it that I couldn't control myself. I sat there shaking violently the way that you do when you're trying to contain a fit of giggles in church. I am not excited about giving birth. I'm secretly hoping that all this hullaballoo is for naught and that the stork really does bring the baby. I'm guessing that all you moms out there aren't going to let me keep hoping for that one.

I am wearing myself out thinking about it right now, so moving right along:

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY
Sight: Did you read about my childbirth class experience?
Sound: M pulling into the garage right now- I think
Taste: Signature salad from Cosi
Smell: bread baking
Touch: M patting me on the shoulder last night in an ill-fated attempt to make me feel better about giving birth

She's crafty

I consider myself a creative person. I just have a problem with follow-through. (Self revelation of the day, perhaps??) I think it has to do with my type-A, anal retentive personality. I have yet to pick up my knitting needles since I "taught" myself to knit last Monday. I suppose I am too impatient. I can safely say that I don't expect I'll ever knit anything unless I am bed-ridden. I knew it was a waste of time and money when I bought that silly kit. I am more a "one day" or "one weekend" project kind of girl. I require deadlines or, at minimum, light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

All this chatter leads me to my "upcoming projects." For starters, I have to re-upholster the new dining room chairs. The current fabric just doesn't work in our house. It's a matter of picking out the fabric...I already bought the staple gun, and I know that the entire project will only take me about an hour if I can just commit to a fabric. Therein lies the problem. I vow to have this done before my father-in-law arrives for Christmas. My other project also involves Christmas. I don't suppose it's actually critical this year, but we need new stockings and a tree skirt. M and I bought stockings a couple of years ago, and I still like them. Unfortunately, Target doesn't carry them anymore, and Otis doesn't have one to match. I can get past that, but next year, S will have to have one. I have been on the lookout for new stockings for weeks. I have yet to find a single thing that I think I can tolerate hanging from my mantle. The decision has therefore been made that I should make the stockings (and matching tree skirt). M's family had homemade stockings, and I think he prefers the idea to store-bought. I'm on board with this...I mean, how hard can it be to make stockings? It's not like they have pockets or zippers ot anything. I think I even know what I want to do...again it's a matter of picking out fabric (in this case, colors). I just need to buckle down and hit the fabric stores with a vengeance. I really want to get the stockings at least started this week as I know M will want to start decorating for Christmas as soon as we get home from Thanksgiving next week. I guess we'll see how it goes...I'll keep you posted.

Old Ironsides

Iron supplements suck. I don't like taking them, so I'm trying to incorporate more iron into my diet (and upping my OJ intake to help absorption). Of course, M and I only usually eat meat at home maybe once a week. And that's a big maybe. I guess all those years of being a vegetarian make it seem strange to eat meat a lot even though there was always meat at dinner when I was growing up. I am southern after all, and southern men require meat and starch at all meals...even breakfast. I'm looking for things to cook other than steak because it's too cold to stand outside at the grill, and I was thinking of making beef burgundy. So, I'm on a quest to find a recipe that I like. I'm meticulous when it comes to recipe research. What can I say...when there are two eaters as picky as M and I, one has to have a discerning eye.

Completely unrelated to pregnant anemia, some friends of mine sent around one of those questionnaires that I love yesterday. You know what I'm talking about- the "if you were a crayon, what color would you be?" type surveys. I love those things because you find out new and interesting things about your friends, and you are reminded of why you like them so much when they spit out answers like, "If I lived in a can of Dr. Pepper, I'd be looking for a new real estate agent." (In response to, "If you lived in a can of Dr. Pepper, would you be the Doctor or the Pepper?") This one had great questions, but one of the questions kind of stuck with me.

"What do you like best about yourself?"

While I could totally BS my way through an answer to this question if it were an essay or an interview question, when I found myself trying to honestly answer it, I was at a loss. "I like my handwriting," or "I like that I only have one dimple," seemed a little superficial. What do I like about myself? It's way easier to fall into a void of self-loathing, making a laundry list of things that I don't like about myself, including ridiculous oddities that people don't know about me. So, I've decided to reveal something about myself on a quasi-daily basis that I think people don't know. Not necessarily good stuff or bad stuff, just bizarre, fairly inconsequential stuff. I can't have all my self-loathing out there for the general population to endure. So, here's today's little nugget o' truth:

I despise vacuuming. As neat-freak as I am, I hate doing floors: sweeping, mopping, vacuuming. I hate it. I wouldn't observe the five second rule in my own bathrooms, and I advise you not to as well...not that you have any reason to be eating in my bathroom. Of course, I don't know why I would be eating in the bathroom, either. Then again, I am pregnant.

The whining labradoodle

The P family is all back home and settled in from our respective trips. M's trip to Iowa included lots and lots of driving to towns with funny names, and the only "exciting" thing that happened was he lost his eyeglasses. New glasses are high on the priority list for this week. We did a bit of shopping around yesterday after church, but no luck. Tomorrow night we'll hit the stores again. Otis and I had a very interesting trip to Tennessee. As usual, he found loads of "snacks" at my Aunt Melanie's (Starburst wrappers, pieces of popsicle sticks, tags from clothing, and undies). His tummy has been pretty messed up, but he's starting to eat again, so I'm not worried. He also had his first "out without a leash" experience, which nearly gave me a heart attack. He was accidentally let out on Thursday morning, but I was able to trick him into getting in the car by saying we'd go for a ride. Most of the trip he spent pouting or whining, depending on whether he was wearing his gentle leader or not. Putting it onto him was the only way to prevent him from scavenging for goodies under the furniture. It was also the only way to keep him from getting up and roaming through the house at night, which I didn't figure out until night #2, meaning I slept for a grand total of 2 hours the first night we were there. I was very tired the next day. He also whined/cried whenever I left a room or put him into his kennel, which was a completely new thing, and it seems to be a habit that he's letting go now that we're home.

On the pregnancy front, I did have a little freak out on the trip home. I started having really uncomfortable cramps (and a lot of back pain) on Thursday evening, but the cramps were in my upper abdomen, so I wasn't too worried...not to mention the fact that S was being a total wiggle-worm, so I knew she was okay. Of course, about twenty minutes from home on Friday, the pain moved from my upper abdomen to lower, and it felt like someone was stabbing me. I was completely uncomfortable by the time I actually made it home, and I couldn't stand completely straight. After a few minutes of crying because I was so miserable and tired and slightly freaked out, the nurse from my doctor's office called me back and made me feel better. Apparently, it's probably just my uterus stretching out (how exciting). I knew that could happen, but all of my books said it would happen in the second trimester, so I was sort of past being on the lookout for that particular symptom, knowing that some women don't feel anything fromteh stretching. I guess that's what I get for measuring small throughout the pregnancy- delayed stretching of ligaments. Either way, it was a miserable day, so I was glad that M came straight home from the airport instead of going into the office. It made me feel loads better to have him at home- even though I was conked out in the bed, all doped up on Tylenol. The pain has come and gone since Friday, but I'm not weirded out by it anymore, so it is much more tolerable. It's amazing how much more something hurts when there's a psychological slant to it. As for now, I have a week's worth of laundry calling my name...I'd better get started.

Hit me with your best shot

M is in Iowa for the week, so Otis and I are just chilling out. Of course, before my dear, sweet hubby planned his little business jaunt to the Hawkeye State, he convinced me that I would need a flu shot. He's tried unsuccessfully for years to talk me into one, but I am not all about elective shots. You need to draw my blood to make sure I don't have ebola? Go right ahead. You want to give me a shot for something I don't have and you don't know that I'll get? Not so much. This year is a little different, though, and we had both read that pregnant women really should get vaccinated if they'll be pregnant during the flu season. I even asked my doctor, hoping for an out, but he agreed that I needed one. So, off I headed to M's office yesterday morning for my first flu shot ever. All I have to say is: my arm hurts. The upside to my ailing appendage is that I got a wicked cool purple bandaid with skateboarding dinosaurs on it. I'll be peeling that off in a few minutes. It won't match my bathing suit in swim class, and there is a big sign posted by the pool that says not to wear bandaids into the water. I guess no one wants to fish out rogue bandages that have come unstuck. I know I wouldn't.

Other than that, I have to run over to the polls to vote for some democrats. I'd give anything to live in Tennessee right now and be able to vote in a Senate race that actually means something. Alas, I'll do my civic duty here in Kentucky. Speaking of Tennessee, Otis and I are headed there tomorrow morning. I figured that we're just sitting around here all by ourselves, so we may as well sit around there and visit some family. We're coming back Friday morning...that's when M gets home anyway.

Oh- I almost forgot. I decided to teach myself to knit yesterday. It's coming along nicely. I've just been practicing knitting and purling so far, and I think I am getting the hang of it. Edges are still tricky, though. While I am able to accomplish straight rows pretty well, I wonder if I'll ever have the patience to learn to do more complicated things. Likely not. We'll see. I was going to take a picture of the last little bit I had worked on, but Otis took off with it when I got up to go to the bathroom. So, I've got nothing...it wasn't very exciting anyway. It just looked like half a pink potholder.

One more "I almost forgot"...the avian woes at our house continue. A bird flew smack into the window in the living room this morning. Knocked out or dead, I don't know. What I do know is that it is stuck in the very tall shrub in front of the house. It is freaking me out, but I wouldn't be able to reach it to get it out anyway-not to mention that I am not sure it's dead, and I am afraid of being attacked by birds. It will have to wait for M's return. How gross it that? My life is so exciting.

The bird dog

The retriever in Otis reared his ugly head again last night. We let him out for a few minutes and he came back inside with a "prize." Lucky for us (if you can call it lucky), the only part he brought into the house was a beak. It was totally gross. We searched the yard last night by flashlight, and I scoured every inch of the frost-covered ground this morning in search of anything left. I didn't find anything, so I am making myself feel better by telling myself that one of the neighbor-dogs flung the beak (only) over the fence and Otis did not eat an entire bird. Oh, well...we're getting used to it.

I've spent the morning cleaning up the dining room, re-filing things that we moved last weekend, and doing laundry for M's trip to Iowa. I'm hoping the rest of the day is pretty low-key, but I know that M wants to mulch the leaves in the backyard. Luckily, all of our backyard trees have now shed their leaves, so this should be the last time the mower has to come out this year. Of course, our neighbors' trees could decide to re-litter our yard and the trees out front are still holding on to some foliage.

Otis is wanting attention now...have to run.

Have a great weekend!!

Happy Birthday, K-Fed

I am breathing a huge sigh of relief. FedEx got the present here on time, and the ice cream cake is ready to roll. It's going to be another exciting birthday in the P household. Fajitas, ice cream cake, and a football game. I told you we don't need a doctor to tell us we're boring.

Happy Birthday to my love...

A boring patient

"Someone" in our house has a birthday coming up. Looming under the omnipresent shadow of said birthday was a promise to get a check-up before it arrived. Thus, "someone" went to the doctor for the first time in our entire relationship yesterday. His lab work isn't being done until tomorrow, but barring that, he's healthy as a horse. He also weighed in at over 190 (albeit in full clothing), which I feel is a major accomplishment. Either way, he was told by the doctor that he was a boring patient because there is absolutely nothing wrong with him and he takes pretty good care of himself. You know what, we don't need doctors and co-pays to tell us we're boring. We already know that. I suppose it's better than the alternative.

Today it's my turn to go to the doctor. 28 week check-up. How exciting. As long as I don't weigh in at over 190...


There was a pretty low turn out for trick-or-treating last night, but the weather had been rotten all day. I'm guessing that most parents, not wanting to schlep bags of candy around the neighborhood through puddles and piles of slippery, wet leaves took their kids to the warm, dry, well-lit mall. We did see some really cute costumes, though. There were two witches that melted my heart. This year's most over-bought costumes: Batman and princesses. (MoWask, I'm with you on the originality issue.) I think part of the reason that I liked the witches so much, aside from the fact that they actually said, "trick-or-treat," "Happy Halloween," and "thank you," was the fact that they were fairly traditional costumes. There was one really cute mummy, too. What ever happened to dressing up like it's Halloween? Why is it now considered a costume to dress up in your dad's hunting clothes or to just wear all black and smear fake blood on your face? One child was wearing track pants and a USC sweatshirt. What was he supposed to be? I know I'll change my tune when S says she wants to be a butterfly or a (gasp!) princess or a (bigger gasp!) hunter. I'll just have to make sure she has the best, most unique butterfly/princess/hunter costume around. Aaaaaghhhh, type A motherhood. Watch out world.

Oh, yeah, the funniest thing I saw/heard all night was the little girl eating a bag of skittles as she came to the door. "Trick-or-treat" through a mouth full of skittles is a whole different thing.