Lazy Day - or so was my plan

Poor Ryan is at work today; Saturday. He's going to put in a full day. We are going to (maybe) go look at one last carpet sample tonight then order it.

Tomorrow we are going to play Christian and go to church. Our attendance has been so spotty that I feel parched. I know one does not have to go to church to be in God's presence but it is so nice to have the community and fellowship; not to mention the worship (of the music variety). We are going to give the new Union church a whirl that our church planted in the South Lake Union area. It's much smaller than our home base congregation but that's not saying much - most churches are smaller as UPC has a membership base of 3,000-ish people. With that big number people think it's a 'mega-church' but it really isn't.

The pastor, Earl Palmer, is down to earth even though he does at times seem to have his head in the clouds. He is such a great story teller and gives fascinating lectures but we are looking for more of a sermon than a biblical history lesson. There have been times when Earl has 'laid down the law' from the pulpit and actually has given an opinion or two but that is rare. I kind of appreciate his lack of political statements from the pulpit. Politics can be so polarizing; it's refreshing that he does not waiver from biblical truths and and is able to keep a diverse congregation focused on the things of Christ without turning his position of influence into just that - a position to influence his flock so to speak to do his bidding at the polls.

After I took Ryan to work I returned home and went for a long walk to Galaxie Espresso. They really do have great coffee. I sat there and sipped my delicious single short non-fat latte with beautiful foam art and read through eat.shop seattle to see what they had to say about the places to go in Seattle and especially my neck of the woods, Beacon Hill.

From there I walked back towards my house and stopped at Despi's bakery as I was on the prowl for an iced sugar cookie but they only had chocolate chip. I settled on a maple bar. They really should make those smaller.

Now I'm off to Queen Anne for a bang trim since I want to get it done before the baby arrives.

******

So much for plans.

This weekend is the semi-annual Let's-see-how-much-closer-highway-99-is-to-collapsing check up. I forgot. The fastest, easiest way for me to get to Queen Anne is to cut through part of downtown and hop on 99. I saw the signs throughout the week that gave clear, advance notice that 99 was going to be shut down this weekend.

I completely forgot. It came flooding back to me when I saw the orange cones being set up by crew in orange vests as they shut off access to the on-ramp I wanted. Poo.

Instead of snaking my way to I-5 and trying to figure out a completely new path to a familiar destination (read: I only know how to get from point A to point B on fixed routes - change the route and I get lost).

On my way back home Ryan called and asked me to pick him up from work so I turned back around and headed toward downtown. What should have taken maybe 3 minutes took over 20 minutes because of the highway closure. It would have taken longer but I was able to cut up to a less congested path and make my way to his office. Being stuck in traffic on a weekend seems worse than on a weekday.

After spending 10 minutes at home we went to Home Depot where we spent the next several hours looking at paint and picking out paint, and looking at carpet and not ordering carpet but writing down every detail we could to see if our carpet connection could get it for us any cheaper and picking out pavers for a new window well.

Good times.

At the 3 hour mark my back had enough so I went to their book section and sat in a swivel chair that is for people who want to apply to the H.D. At Lowe's I usually go sit in their garden/out door furniture section but Home Depot doesn't have that.

So how does Apple Crisp, Whisper Yellow, Asparagus, Chocolate Brown and Creamy White sound? Lame? Yeah, I know. We are painting the downstairs Apple Crisp (kind of a terra cotta/carmel color) and Whisper Yellow (a light buttery yellow) with Creamy White trim and a Creamy White ceiling.

Jr.s room, if we have time, will be Asparagus on the upper 2/3 of the wall and Chocolate Brown on the lower 1/3 - the colors will be separated by chair rail. If either of us had more time (or artistic talent) I would make the border between the two colors an argyle pattern. That would be so cool. But it's so not going to happen.

Our carpet connection didn't call us and he didn't pick up when we called him so we will try again tomorrow. I'll call before church and after church and in the evening if I have to. If none of that works, I don't know what to do.

At least we got the paint and it's ready to go for Monday. : ) Ryan and I taped and draped everything we don't want to clean up after the texture goes on tomorrow. Although I've been pleased with how quickly the drywallers are putting up the drywall I've been a perturbed by the mess. I know it's a messy job but the mud is everywhere, on windows, window screens, in electrical outlets, on the toilet, on cabinets, on the stereo.... everywhere. It can be easy enough to chip off once it dries but I don't want to chip it off an electrical outlet... I'll need to find a plastic spatula for that job.

Flakiness

Time is of the essence. Time, as we all know, is fleeting. We are hemorrhaging time right now.

Wednesday night I called four painters who could start painting right away to come out and give us bids. They were lined up for 9am, noon, 7:30 on Thursday and 2:00 today. After I scheduled them I went and scheduled my last ultrasound for next Wednesday. I passed up an early time on Thursday morning because Kenny the painter from Olympia was going to give be here; I also passed up an afternoon time today because Professional Painters were going to be here giving a bid.

It surprises me that no-shows continue to surprise me. Kenny didn't show or call yesterday morning. Brandon didn't show at 7:30 yesterday and when I called him he told me he lost all of my information. Rith did show up a few minutes late BUT he called first to tell me he was going to be a few minutes late. I appreciated his phone call.

Today I called to confirm to make sure the last company we scheduled would in fact be coming out as scheduled. The receptionist asked asked if I got her message earlier about their request to reschedule for Monday at 2:00. No. It was on my voicemail that I hadn't checked yet. They called 3 hours before the appointment. At least they called but they told me they couldn't start until the 22nd. Lame. I must not have been very clear about wanting work to start early next week when I scheduled the bid.

Just to make sure the first bid we got was fair I called a few more painters and got rough estimates before determining the first guy was giving us a reasonable price. Funny. All Rith had to do was show up to get the job (that and give us a fair rate with a guarantee to finish by Wednesday).

There are seemingly few things that need to be finished in the basement. Finish the mudding & taping of the drywall then adding texture. Priming and painting then carpet. That's it, right?

So here is the time frame we are looking at. Dry wall finished by Saturday, dries on Sunday, painting begins on Monday and is finished by Wednesday at the very latest. Carpet goes in on Thursday and Friday, Saturday the baby's room is cleared out and Sunday the baby's room is cleaned and put together.

Monday Monster Jr. is officially invited to make his grand entrance into the world.

We'll see.

First Day

Yesterday was my first day as a lady of leisure. It wasn't all that leisurely. My plans for the day were big. I was going to hit Southcenter (center of all things shopping - a place I despise but must go since it has what I need) for Babies 'R Us and Target and sporting goods stores so I could find one last present for Ryan.

My big plans were shot hours before they were to commence. At 2:30 in the morning I woke up - wide awake. I stayed wide awake for several hours before falling back asleep around 6:30 then I was back up when Ryan left. I felt kind of guilty seeing him off to work - I didn't feel any different than I had the week before so why wasn't I going to work? Oh, that's right. I need to rest up before the baby comes.

So I waddle off to take care of the screaming horde of animals (well, the cats scream for breakfast and the dog just follows me closer than a shadow and wills me to feed her with her huge brown labrador eyes).

I didn't make it out the door until 10:30. No good. That left me enough time at Babies 'R Us to pick out the carseat/stroller combo; I chose the Chicco by default. The salesman was showing me how to work the Gracco Quattro Tour Deluxe blah, blah, blah and I just wanted to pick it up and throw it across the store. He said it was so difficult to operate because it was a floor model and was pretty beat up. Uh, the Chicco was also a floor model and it worked just fine; besides, with all of the stairs we have and with me not being Grace Kelly I think I'll go with the brand that can hold up to freaked out new moms and dads manhandling the floor models.

On the to buy list was also the Diaper Champ (unlike the Diaper Genie it doesn't require a plastic bag for each diaper - more economical and environmentally friendly). Throw in some glass bottles (there has been bad news about plastic bottles off gassing some nasty stuff into the milk which causes problems later in the child developement). Ooh, and I got a breast feeding pillow that is supposed to be better than the Boppy.

It was a pretty exciting trip at the baby superstore. I almost bought a Santa hat for the baby but I don't want to buy one that will be too small when it's finally time for him to wear it. A santa hat is a requirement for all babies too young to reach up and pull it off their cute little heads. If he comes within two weeks of Halloween I may buy him a pumpkin suit onsie costume. Too cute!

After my big day at Babies 'R Us I met up with my old boss who took me to lunch to celebrate me leaving that office. : ) Lunch was nice and it was good to catch up with Meg since we used to see each other every day.

Next on my agenda (or so I thought) was to go home and bake the sugar cookies I prepped the night before for Ryan's birthday. It wasn't until I got home and was throwing the ball in the alley for the dog did I remember that I didn't buy Ryan's last present so I hopped back in the car and drove to Westwood Village (the major shopping center in West Seattle). I hit the three clothing stores that have men's clothing and I thought I found the lightweight rain coat he wanted at Big 5 - turns out it's just an athletic warm up jacket. Oops.

I was finally able to return home, bake the cookies and frost them with store bought frosting : (
and add super fun sprinkles.

It was now 5:30 and I was missing my nap. I laid down to rest for a few minutes when my little brother called. We chatted for a few minutes then I got up and it was time to go again. It was Ryan's birthday so I picked him up for work and we went to Bamboo Bar & Grill on Alki as it is his favorite place to get a margarita and since we know the bartender she made it extra special for him.

Last night was great for sleep! Even though I woke up every 90 minutes to empty my not nearly full enough to wake me bladder I was able to go right back to sleep after each trip! I feel so good! By the way, I'm not kidding about every 90 minutes. It was almost to the minute. Crazy!

Dropping

I think Jr. dropped a bit yesterday. It doesn't mean a whole lot. First time mothers experience lightning or dropping days to weeks before the birth. I really hope it isn't a few days before birth. That would suck. The house isn't ready, we don't have a car seat or the bassinet yet.

Update on Bill who was going to do our basement. Your keen eyes picked up on "was", right?

It turns out that Ryan has a soccer buddy (a different one) who is a dry wall installer by day, soccer player by night and on the weekends he will pick up an odd job doing drywall here and there. Soccer buddy is going to install our drywall over a period of two weekends beginning this Friday. : ) That means I will have the house to myself during the week and it will be done before Bill could get it done!

Woo-hoo!

Ryan is going to lay the tile in the bathroom. Tile isn't that hard or complicated to do and Ryan has tiled the fireplace in our old house, the fireplace in our 'new' house, the entry way in the old house, the bathroom counter top in the old house and the kitchen in the new house. He's practically a pro. Soccer buddy has all of the equipment so that will save time and money for us, too. : )

If I could bend over better I would do the grout but I think that would not be so good for my back. As much of a pain as grouting and cleaning up after grouting can be I would still love to do it and be able to say, "I did that." I guess I can point to the baby and say, "I did that instead."


*******
Soccer Buddy and Co. started hanging drywall yesterday at 4:30pm and didn't stop until 11:00pm. They said they would be here again at 7:00am. At 7:00 this morning there was a faint knocking on our front door (he probably didn't want to wake me) - it was Soccer Buddy and Co.! On time!

I don't know if he could ever go into business for himself as a contractor. I mean, he showed up on-time, worked really hard late into the night then showed up again on the second day, on-time, and got straight to work. What's up with that? He's so not a contractor.


******
Yesterday was my last day of work! Woo-freakin'-hoo!!!


I wore jeans and left early (not by much) - that's the most I could rebel. The office had a lunch for me and the agents came to say goodbye. The agents gave me flowers and cards and gifts. I felt so loved and appreciated.


My first trip back to the office will be much sooner than I had anticipated. While doing laundry last night I pulled out the key to the supply closet out of my fleece jacket. Oopsies. I'll be going back next week again sometime as Ryan's birthday presents trickle in that I ordered from Amazon. (His birthday is Monday so some gifts will be late).

I don't care

I am so happy right now. It's not a hormonal fluctuation. I am at peace, I am calm. All is well with the world; the earth is no longer in danger of spinning off its axis and hurtling through space because Bill came out this morning.
Bill is a general contractor who can install the drywall, prime and texture the drywall, install the bathroom tile then hang the doors and as a bonus he can even find us a person to prime the entire basement (prime with paint, not the drywall primer).
Sure there are lots of people who can do the same things that Bill says he can do. BUT what sets Bill apart is that he can start next week and it will only take him 10 days to do all of the work. Even better is his rough estimate. Sure, his rough estimate could go up but it's low enough that I don't care.
Yes, we know that you shouldn't go with the lowest bid - we haven't had all of the bids come in yet but I know his will still be the lowest. Know what else I know?
I don't care that his bid is the going to be the lowest. I don't care if his work is probably not going to be that of a master craftsman. That is what texture on the walls is for. His mistakes will probably the same as Ryan and I would make. I can live with our mistakes and since he's cheap enough I can live with his mistakes.
Happy, happy, joy, joy!
I should probably wait until we get the official bid tonight or tomorrow before celebrating but like I've been saying, "I don't care!"

Fighting Nature (Is a Losing Battle)

How does one know when nesting kicks in? I'm putting it forth the question for you to think about. I found out last night. I know nesting kicked in because it kicked me. Hard. Just ask Ryan.

In my previous post I said I was kind of sad about the possibility of the basement not being finished in time but I was not going to tell Ryan how I felt because what good would that do?

It turns out that holding your feelings in - putting them in the proverbial box, pushing them down, bottling them up, etc., doesn't work out in the long run. Who knew? It really doesn't work for a woman a month away from giving birth when nesting sneaks up behind her and cracks her across the head with a 2x4.

The conversation with my beloved started out like any normal, rational conversation would. I approached him while he relaxed on the couch after a long days work and doing some more work in the basement after he got home. I simply stated I was concerned about the basement and being able to get the baby's room done. Poor Ryan; he is not Mary Poppins. He can snap his fingers all day long but nothing is going to magically happen. He would just look like a snappin' fool. He let me know he too, is stressed too about the whole situation but reminded me that if the basement didn't get finished and the baby's room remained as is the world wouldn't end, no one would die. Everything he said was logical and rational.

Everything I felt went against reason and logic. The world was going to come to a crashing halt if the baby's room wasn't finished. At one point I told Ryan I wanted to rent a moving truck and take everything we moved into storage (so we could finish the basement) and in the soon to be baby's room, load it up and take it to the dump and just get rid of it.

We talked a little while longer and I said I was going to start calling contractors tomorrow to get bids on finishing the drywall, getting doors hung and the bathroom tiled. Thinking that I let it all out - tears and the hyperventilating and hiccoughing and the arm gesticulations of a wild woman - I went into the baby's room to "see what I can throw away."

Standing in front of the 7' tall Ikea boxy shelving unit I froze. All I saw was stuff. Stuff I couldn't get rid of. It was all stuff that we needed, paperwork from the purchase of the house, curtains to use in the basement, Ryan's sheet music, baby gifts.

A single tear welled up in my eyes then was immediately followed by a river. The river was met with a sniffle then a sob. Poor, poor Ryan. He came in and gave me a hug. What else could he do? Talk sense into me?

Nature waged a battle against me last night and it won. I hate knowing full well the reason I'm a basket case is because nature is trying to get me to physically prepare my space for our child and I can't do anything about it.

Well, I did do something about it today. I lined up three contractors to come out and give us bids on the work we want done. I have two appointments tomorrow and one on Friday. Hopefully their prices are reasonable.

Oh, and Ryan gave me a boost in spirits when he told me Ed will be in next week to finish installing the drywall (he still won't have time to do the mudding and taping - that is where the other contractors come in).

I feel so much better. Nature is bossing me around and I can't physically do anything about it but I can hire someone who can do something about it.

Today after work I picked up Ryan and we went to the local home improvement warehouse and picked out a bathroom vanity, faucet and other accessories like, the toilet paper holder and towel rack. Ah. Well, we have to actually purchase them but before we do we are going to look on e-bay and try and find a better deal on the faucet.

Excused

Nothing big to post today but I started training my replacement. She gets two full weeks of training. We all know it's overkill - I'm a receptionist and as great as I am at my job and as much as everyone loves me (they do, they really really do) it's not rocket science. Everyone agreed that it is better to have two weeks of training than none because if something happened, like I had to go on bed rest or Monster Jr. decided to come a month early then the office would be up a creek.

My replacement is nice. She has a cat that looks just like Gwen (fat, fluffy and white) - I have 'My Pictures' rotate on my computer monitor as a screen saver so she got to see a lot of my family and animals. Lucky her.

This may come as a shock but I'm actually a bit sad about my time in my office coming to an end. Sure, I grumble about my job and how boring it can be but I've been going to that office day in a and day out for over 2 years. When I joined it was a lot smaller and I was able to make a difference in the day to day operations since there are only 3 full time employees.

I'm going to miss seeing the agents everyday although I'm keeping my license there I know I'm not going to be anywhere near as much as when I was trying to make a go of it selling real estate. By the way, my license is active. If anyone knows someone buying or selling real estate I can do the footwork of finding the agent for you. What's in it for you? I interview the agents and try to find someone that would be a good fit for you based on your needs and personality. I know tons of agents in the Seattle and Portland/Vancouver Metro area. Outside of the area I can do a lot of the ground work for you. What's in it for me? Since half the work of being a real estate agent is finding clients when someone offers you up a ready buyer or seller they are so appreciative they will give you a referral fee. See, win-win.

******
Ryan doesn't think the basement is going to be finished in time for the baby. I'm really sad about this but am trying to keep it to myself (well, except for publishing how I feel about it on the world wide web - he doesn't read this blog so no fear of him finding out about it here). He works so hard at his day job then he comes home to work on the basement in the evenings and on the weekends that I don't want to nag him or make him feel bad because he has nothing to feel bad about. He should be really proud of all of the work he has done since he had to learn as he went along.

Once the insulation is in then he wants to find someone to come in and knock the rest of it out. It seems like there isn't much left to do but in reality there is a lot. Before carpet can be installed the doors have to be hung which is a time consuming process then before the bathroom can be completed the tile needs to go in and since the floor is smooth but not exactly level (it's in an old basement so everything is kind of sloped) we had to buy small tile which takes longer to put in because there are more tiles and therefore more cuts and more tiling and more grouting. Once the tile goes in then the toilet and sink can go in but not a moment earlier. Then the wet bar area has to go in and the cabinets and counter top and sink installed. Once all of that is done then we need to put in the trim, putty the trim then paint the trim then paint the walls THEN put in the carpet then pull everything from storage and give it a home in the basement.

It's kind of sad that I'm going to have so much time off next month but won't be able to help out in the basement. I tried to some work yesterday but after 5 minutes of vacuuming up dry wall dust (I was wearing a mask) my back was screaming at me to stop. I'm a useless lump right now. The only thing I can do is play the part of incubator. I thought I could do the insulation because I insulated the whole kitchen one night in just a couple of hours last Spring - I really thought I could do the same in the basement but no such luck. : (

We are going to have to figure out something to do with the stuff in the baby's room if we don't finish the basement because I will FREAK OUT if I don't have adequate time to make the baby's room into a cutesy nursery. FREAK OUT, you hear me? FREAK OUT! We can't have it's closet jam packed full o' crap and have the computer and random sporting equipment in there and filing cabinets and the bookshelf full of stuff that is there by default because it gets it off the floor.

Oh, boy. Need to find my happy place.

Before I go find my happy place - the whole reason I started this post: being excused. A letter came from the King County Superior court today. My heart actually sank a little when I saw it because you are notified of an accepted request for an excuse by lack of response (kind of scary if you think about it. What if your request for an excuse was lost in the mail)? So, I read it fully expecting a statement along the lines of, "We don't care that you may deliver your baby in our grand courtroom; excuse denied." Instead it said the case was dismissed for which I had been summoned and was for that reason excused.

Third summons, third time off the hook. Now watch when I'm retired and have all the time in the world there will not be a summons.

Moo

Our second all about baby class was yesterday. We arrived a few minutes early so we walked across the street from the hospital and grabbed a cup of coffee for me and cocoa for Ryan. I only felt mildly guilty for walking in to a room full of pregnant women with my hand wrapped around a cup of warm caffeinated goodness. Only slightly. I saw a couple of other women with the juice, too.

To take away all caffeine from a pregnant woman is wrong. It should be a crime. For the woman who consumes caffeinated beverages before she is pregnant it would be doubly hard to give it up cold turkey during pregnancy.

Why, the first 12-14 weeks kick off your pregnancy with out of this world fatigue. Alcohol is easy to give up during this period. It is a depressant and while the woman is (usually) thrilled to be beginning her journey into motherhood there is no energy to even lift a glass of the spirits to your tired lips. The woman does manage to eek out just enough strength to put her one daily allowance of coffee to her lips and sip the rich bitter-sweet nectar that will give her just enough energy to keep her worried co-workers from calling the paramedics. The co-workers are sweet to be so concerned about your health and the death-warmed-over look on your pale face with droopy eyelids.

The second trimester alcohol is still easy to not partake of. The I-never-want-to-get-out-of-bed fatigue from the first Trimester is usually gone and replaced with I-want-to-get-back-in-bed-at-4-in-the-afternoon fatigue. You feel like a new person because you can hold your head up at your desk - it's weird how your head weighs 30 pounds in the first tri and goes back to normal after that.

Alcohol starts calling back to the mother-to-be during the third trimester. It's not the fatigue, the aches and pains but the ADVICE. All of the advice that drives mom-to-be to want to drink her Bailey's Irish Cream straight from the bottle.

If I was less civilized I would sum up how I feel about that with a big fat juicy curse.

It's not all advice from all women that drive me, er, the pregnant woman mad. Advice from your new mom girlfriends, great. They tell you what did and did not work for them. It's from the moms (and worse, childless woman and men) who tell you what to do.

First, I'm on edge at all times. I'm a wee bit of a wench. So back off! If I have a question I will ask. If you want to offer a suggestion, great. Give it as a suggestion and not as the Gospel truth.

Second, if you ask me how I'm doing and I say, "Fine." Take it. If you say, "Really? I don't believe you." Then I will tell you how I really am: tired, grumpy and in pain. IF you pulled that out of me do NOT proceed to tell me how good I have it compared to your pregnancy and say that I have nothing to complain about.

Insert cursing here.

Third, if you are the person who drags out of me how I'm feeling and you ask how I am the very next day don't be surprised if my answer is, "Does it really matter?"

Grr.

Well, that rant went on long enough.

After reviewing my posts I realized I haven't written a lot that is positive about pregnancy.

Here are April's highlights of carrying the miracle of life inside her abdominal cavity:

1. I wanted a baby and God gave me one.
2. People let me cross the street at a snails pace and still smile at me.
3. I get to take as many naps as I want to when visiting family and on the weekends, no questions asked.
4. I get to put my feet up while other people fuss over me (it does take some getting used to but once you get used to it...)
5. You get to feel your baby move inside of you.
6. I have a cute belly.
7. I get to wear white canvas shoes with every piece of clothing I have, dresses included because nothing else fits my feet.
8. I'm the hot one now. (My built in furnace keeps me toasty).
9. People tell me I make a cute pregnant woman (it's nice to hear because I see a bloated version of my old self when I look in the mirror).
10. I get to meet my baby soon! I'm so excited to meet the little guy.
11. I am so blessed that I get to stay at home and raise my baby.

*******
I think I like the Korean way of age determination. When a baby is born it is already one year old. In our society you are born and are zero days old. After carrying the baby around for almost a year you realize it is alive and developing and when it enters the world it is new to the outside but it has still been alive for 9 1/2 months.

************
Ryan was able to attend the class yesterday. Ed couldn't work on Saturday so I didn't have to be the sad woman by myself.

Class was good. The first half was all about breastfeeding. Good times. There was a lot to be learned but it still made me feel like a cow. I have offspring which gets its nourishment from my body. Moo.

The instructor told a very funny story about her own experience with breast feeding. She and her husband were at a restaurant celebrating their wedding anniversary and their 2 month old daughter was at home with a sitter. Somewhere in the restaurant a baby started crying. Poor woman, she knew the baby in the restaurant wasn't hers but her brain didn't know so it sent some milk down for her to feed the stranger's crying baby. She had to two big wet spots on her silk blouse. She put her napkin over her chest and that too got wet.

I would be mortified. I think the morale of that story is to leave a clean shirt in your car at all times.

The second half of the class dragged. It was all about caring for the newborn. Bathing, diapering, keeping it safe. Blah, blah, blah. We learned when you should call the baby's doctor (anytime you have a question) and some funny ways of soothing a crying baby if nothing else works. Hopefully I'll remember their techniques because that one segment was probably worth coming for the whole day.

I made a funny in class. We were all given a sticky note with a 'problem' on it. We went around the room and said if we were supposed to call the doctor or not. No wet diaper for 7 hours, call the doctor. Temperature of 101, call the doctor. Mine was, "should you call the doctor if your baby has vaginal discharge." I said it's normal because of the mother's hormones being passed to baby. The instructor said, "Would you call the doctor?" Me: "Yes, I would call the doctor if my son had vaginal discharge."

Everyone laughed and the instructor said that was a good ending point. Woo-hoo. We didn't want class to run long since it was a 6 1/2 hour class.

So much to learn - so much I don't need to see

We took our first childbirth class last Saturday. It covered just about everything except conception - if anyone needed help with that then they are in serious trouble. We got to learn all about the stages of labor and saw lots of fun charts showing how often contractions are and how intense they are at each of the four stages of labor. Each stage of labor had a woman's face to show her emotional state. The face starts out with a big smile - she's happy because labor has started and, hey! It's not that bad. Then the faces become more and more disconcerting. The last face is shows a woman who looks like Satan incarnate; she is obviously not enjoying labor.

The instructor also showed some old videos; so old they were on cassette. Hm, I remember watching film in class on the old film reel. That dates me. Anyway, the video. It was an old tape that had been played many times and had some wear and tear on it. The instructor forewarned us that the beginning of the video was shaky but it was not the tape it was a problem with the TV.

Let me see, if the problem always occurs at the same time during video I don't think it is a problem with the TV. The video started and the picture starting shaking and doing all sorts of things that made me kind of nauseous but it was brief. I turned to Ryan and whispered, "Remember, it's not the tape, it's the TV. There must be a little man behind the TV shaking it." We quietly snickered trying to not draw attention to ourselves.

We saw video of women during each stage of labor. The first ones we watched were of women who were having a natural vaginal birth. We saw the fun loving oohs and ahhs of the first stage of labor then saw the women in pain in the final throes of labor. Its funny they don't show video of women who scream and swear. I would not be a good candidate for the video as I imagine I would not be one of the women who quietly groan while pushing a watermelon out of her body.

My favorite part of the video was the segment they showed of the women who had epidurals. They went through the first two stages of labor and experienced enough pain for them to realize they didn't want to experience more pain so they had an epidural. The transformation is amazing. They felt enough to push but not enough to push them over the edge of sanity. That is what I want. I don't mind some pain. I just don't want pain that will make me cry and ask God to kill me, kill me now!

My least favorite part, even worse than the women in all of the pain was actually watching the baby be born. Gross. I've seen 2 'normal' births and one Cesarean. I thought those were gross, too. But, April! You say. It is a miracle. I agree, the whole process of a new life being created and carried around in your belly IS a miracle. It just so happens that the end part of the miracle is GROSS.

I don't need to see a human come out of a human. I certainly don't need to see a placenta come out of a human. Ryan really didn't appreciate that part of the video. I'm surprised he didn't close his eyes.

The funniest part of the video occurred right after the grossest part. The seconds old newborn was placed on his mother's chest and she looked down at the new center of her universe and said in a sweet, breathy voice, "Oh, Rodger! (pause) He doesn't look like a human." The whole class cracked up. Her baby was one ugly creature - all blue and white and covered in yuck.

Oh, boy! I can't wait for my turn!

I'm sure the mail readership is not so happy with this post right now.

Tough cookies.

If the woman is in pain the man can at least stomach some of the gory details because, as the saying goes, it takes two to tango.

We have another all day class this Saturday, "Preparing for Postpartum" (meaning the time after you deliver the baby). Unfortunately Ryan may not be able to attend this class. Ed, Ryan's soccer buddy who is a contractor by day and was going to do the drywall in our basement, fell ill the week he had set aside time to work in our basement. Fortunately Ed is able to come on Friday and Ryan is going to take the day off to help Ed as Ryan picked 5/8" drywall for the ceiling in an effort to minimize sagging and to help reduce noise transmission between the two floors. 5/8" drywall is SUPER heavy. Super. Duper. I think one sheet weighs 200 pounds. Ryan is going to be super duper sore on Sunday. He'll probably be really sore on Saturday but he's going to stick around to help Ed do more work on the basement so he'll just have to wait until Sunday to decompress. I was really upset when I realized he was going to miss the class on Saturday. I think this is the one that is all about bringing baby home. Kind of an important class.
I threw a small fit when I realized I had to choose between Ryan taking the class and work being done on the basement (most all of my fits are small and involve whining and a few tears - the bigger the fit the more the tears).

I'm going to be all by my lonesome in class. I'll get the conspicuous but trying to be inconspicuous stares from the other couples. Oh, well.

Summons!

Today I received a notice of Jury Summons. This summons makes my total Jury Duty summons three. I'm to report to Jury Duty on October 31st. I think that just maybe I will be granted an excuse from service since my due date is November 5th. If they don't grant me an excuse I will waddle down to the courthouse in person on the 31st (if I haven't given birth at that point) and see what they do. I imagine it would be quite amusing.

The first time I was called to jury duty I was in school so I had a great excuse; I would flunk my classes if I had to serve. Two years ago I was called to serve on a grand jury. That would have been quite the experience. The term of service calls for 2 days every other week for 18 months and since it is in a Federal Court the jurors are called from all over the state. There were people from Vancouver, east of the Cascades and as far north as Bellingham that were compelled to serve; fortunately for me the Federal courthouse in Washington is in downtown Seattle - it's just a short bus ride away. I was really hoping I would be a juror but I wasn't called - it was a random draw of the 50 or so jurors called. I was alternate #30 or 40 something.

If I was a lawyer I wouldn't pick me to be a juror, though. I watch entirely too many crime shows for my good. What they show on TV about the processes of gathering and processing evidence like blood, fibers, etc. can't be how the process really works. It doesn't seem likely that a fingerprint can be matched in minutes and a complete DNA report be run while coworkers share witty banter for 30 seconds.

I'm kind of disappointed in TiVo right now. It knows I like the crime shows but does it record them? No. What does it record instead? Lame decorating shows from HGTV which has to one of the most boring stations out there; it's up there with the station that airs live feed from the House and Senate. Snoozefest.

I should read a baby related book instead of watching TV but they are so boring. Labor positions, pain management, blah, blah, blah. Ooh, I need to fill out my birth plan. All I care is that my baby is healthy and well cared for and that I experience as little pain as possible.

Hmph. I am so grumpy right now. I'm bored but there is plenty to do, like read about how painful labor is going to be or about how exhausting the first 6 weeks after birth are. There is a messy kitchen and dining room table but I don't want to clean because I'm tired but not tired enough to go to bed; besides, reflux has kicked in and we had Mexican food for dinner so I couldn't lay down even if I wanted too. There is nothing good on the boob tube, I've already read Swell and Sheepie's updated blog; Gilda's not updating her blog but once a month and Matt and Crina aren't updating theirs because they are new parents and have better things to do than entertain me. Ryan is reading the last Harry Potter book because he's too tired to do anything else after working 12+ hour days this week, Gwen is meowing at our bedroom door so she can eat Bob's food and the dog sleeping on her bed. My usual entertainment is otherwise occupied.

And to make matters even worse, I want ice cream and we only have one lousy orange Otter Pop in the freezer that I missed during the June heatwave. Lame.

I should go to bed and get lots of rest for our day long childbirth class tomorrow. Hmm, I should probably pack snacks since I don't think they are provided. Who holds a class for a group of hungry, hungry preggos and doesn't provide snacks? That's crazy talk. Oh, boy. I hope nesting doesn't kick in this weekend because Sunday I go to Vancouver for a baby shower and come back Monday then back to work on Tuesday.

How are we going to finish everything that has to be done before the baby comes?! How? I have mountains of papers go through and sort before my last day of work and before the basement has walls because once the basement has walls we have to clean up all of the construction mess, dismantle the pool table, paint walls, install carpet, move everything from storage into the basement and put it in it's rightful place THEN we can start on the baby's room.

OK. I'm officially freaking out, now! I feel like the house has to be completely spotless and put together before the baby comes because once he comes I will have zero time to do it. Besides our moms are going to be coming up to help with the baby and it gives me an ulcer to think about them cleaning my house - aside from helping with 'normal' household stuff. I don't want to freak out everytime they go to the linen closet or try to find a trash bag under the kitchen sink.

Then the holiday blitz will be here within weeks of Juniors' birth. There will be cards to send out, office parties to attend, birth announcements to be sent out, presents to be bought and wrapped. Yikes!

I could really go for a cold Bailey's on the rocks right now. Sounds like it's time for April to find her happy place.

Goodnight.

Monster

Here I am at 31 weeks pregnant:

I had an appointment with my midwife last week when I was 30 and a half weeks pregnant. She measured me (from pubic bone to the top of the uterus - for those of you who care about the measurements). From about 25 or so weeks on the measurement, in centimeters, should be the same as the number of weeks pregnant you are so 25 weeks = 25 cm, 28 weeks = 28 cm. At my last appointment the tyke was a smidge over the number of weeks I was preggo. On Wednesday he was 4-5 cm over where he should have been!

Do you know what this means? My baby is HUGE. Sure, I'm kind of huge right now, too but nothing to make him a MONTH bigger than he should be. In fact, I lost 2 pounds between appointments. This was a good thing and cause for much celebration as I had been gaining too much weight. If I maintain my weight now I will end up at the desired weight gain for my pregnancy.

So, we know it is not something that I'm doing. I'm not feeding him steroids although I still eat too many carbs but not so much as to make him a little monster. My midwife wants to know exactly how big he is so I'm going in for an ultrasound next Tuesday. I'm kind of anxious to know how big he's going to be.

I've been told by a number of people, after I tell them that I'm growing a ginormous baby, "Well, maybe he'll sleep through the night earlier" or my favorite, "So, you're planning on having an epidural, right?"

Let's get something straight. The epidural will be wonderful for the labor and delivery but it ain't gonna help me one bit after I deliver a frickin' watermelon!

Oh! And since I'm doing a good job getting myself worked up let me lay into the people who loathe a woman who uses an epidural for pain management during labor. An argument I hear coming from this camp quite often is that is a perfectly natural life experience and women have been doing it for centuries without pain medicine, why look at all the women in Africa who give birth naturally all the time.

Well! Just this very afternoon I was talking to a Kenyan woman who gave birth to two children in Kenya. She was telling me how painful and horrible labor was when I told her I was going to have an epidural. She asked me what that was. I told her they stick a needle in your spine that essentially paralyzes you from the waist down. Her eyes got big and she said, "Really?" She said she wished she could have had an epidural.

Take that epidural haters! Just because women in third world countries deliver without the aid of drugs doesn't mean they don't want the drugs.

A pain free April = happy April. Happy April = happy Ryan. Happy April = happy nurses. April in pain = unhappy everyone else. I know everyone expects the laboring mother to be testy but I really think my mouth would get the better of me if I was in agony.

We discovered at my previous appointment that I was anemic. I got to add another iron pill to my daily regime of prenatal vitamin, fish oil and iron. Now I'm up to 3 iron pills a day. At the most recent appointment I complained that it felt like was breathing soup. My midwife did a 'peak flow' test to check out my lung capacity. It was pretty darn low. It was 85 points below normal but when taking into consideration pregnancy it was the at the absolute bottom of normal. So she prescribed an inhaler for me. It dilates my bronchioles (or something like that).

It is a miracle! I can breath again! I still get tired throughout the day but not so tired that typing is a chore.

Seriously. The day before I got the inhaler I was sitting at my computer at work typing something one-handed. My left arm was lying useless in my lap; it was too much effort and energy to have both arms resting on the desk and typing. There was a lot of work I had that could have been doing. It has been sitting on my desk for over a week. I would spend the first half of the day working on stuff that had to be done today and planned the second half of the day for work that needed to be done but not urgently. Well, once lunch time rolled around I would get so tired everything lost all sense of urgency. The day after I got my inhaler I tackled the pile of work that was sitting on my desk for over a week and got through all of it in one afternoon. It's amazing what oxygen can do for the body. Oxygen, it does a body good. And baby, too. His activity level picked up after I started taking the inhaler. When Mom's not getting enough O2 neither is baby.

The inhaler has not turned me into a woman of boundless energy. It has merely brought me from exhausted sloth level to a fatigued level.

Last night we spent at my mother's-in-law and I woke up every 90 to 120 minutes. After each waking I stay up longer and longer. Once I paddle to the bathroom after 4:30 it's all over; I'm guaranteed to be up for at least an hour. So I laid there last night playing Solitaire on Ryan's Nintendo DS at 4:30 in the absolute silence one can only experience in the country. The only thing that kept the room from feeling too foreign was the light my mother-in-law left on in the hall let enough light in our room to make it bright like the street light does to our room at home.

Solitaire is the only game I play at night because it doesn't stimulate my brain - it gives me something to do so I don't fixate on sleep and thereby chase it away. It eventually bores me back to sleep. I drifted off for another hour before crawling out of bed to join everyone else in the kitchen.

After scarfing down a plum, banana, some grapes, orange juice and two sourdough waffles (these waffles are so light and fluffy that two are as filling as one - really - they are light as air) I took my dishes to the sink and went back to bed for 2 1/2 hours. The only reason I got out of bed when I did was because company was due to arrive at 11:00 and I had to pee. Of course. It always comes down to the bladder.

No work for me tomorrow! I took Friday and Tuesday off to give me 5 days off in a row. : ) I'm not going to leave one minute of vacation time unused before I leave. I thought about just leaving 4 days earlier but why do that when I can make my last couple of weeks as short as possible? Last week was 4 days, this week will be 3 days and the following will be 4 as I'm taking next Monday off, too. I still have 4 hours of vacation time to schedule.

My office still hasn't hired anyone for my position. They have a candidate that they want to offer the job to but she has to meet one more person before they make her an offer but the person she needs to meet with has been out of town on business trips. They had better hurry and offer her the job before she takes another position elsewhere and they have to start over from scratch.

I shouldn't be too concerned because come October 5th it is none of my concern. If they want it to be of my concern it will cost them. : )

Naked Bob

I started writing about this in my previous post but decided it needed a space of its own since the story goes back so far and has very little to do with our vacation. It is about my older brother, Ike. Ike is what you would call a friendly guy.

To say he is an outgoing guy is the biggest understatement.

Biggest.

You know I am pretty friendly - at least I give that vibe. My younger brother, Joel is friendly as well. My older brother makes us look like Scrooge. He makes friends at the grocery store, at the crosswalk, at the park; on every corner there is a friend for him to make. Great, you think. Friendly guy.

No. Tardy guy. He would get held up on his way home from school by a neighbor lady when he would make the mistake of walking on 'her' side of the street and gracing her with a hello. That little hello would turn into an hour. Nice guys can't walk away from a conversation.


I would love, love, LOVE to see Ike talk to Naked Bob - former neighbor whose name has been withheld for privacy. Naked Bob did not literally parade around in the skin God gave him but he did wear very little. Namely shorts and flip flops.

Shorts and flip flops are OK for the following people in the following situations:

1. Boys at the beach, pool, running through sprinklers
2. Men in decent shape at the beach, pool, running through sprinklers.

That's it! All other occasions require at least a tank top - even if it is a wife beater. Preference is a T-shirt over a tank top and for extra points the T-shirt should not have any reference to the bearer of the shirt being a Female Body Inspector or a consumer of watered down 'beer' like Budweiser or Miller.

Back to Naked Bob.

Naked Bob would not be so bad if his only offense was a visual assault on the eyes but no... Naked people aren't aware of how disturbing their scantily clad selves upset the puritanical American (it's a stretch to call a Seattle-ite 'puritanical', I know) so how can they be aware that their 'conversation' is not in fact a conversation but a soliloquy that the unsuspecting listener has zero interest in hearing? The victim, er, partner in 'conversation' may as well just shine a spotlight on the drone because that is all they are good for. Well, that and the occasional, "Oh, really!" or "Mhm."

I was caught many a time in the snare of Naked Bob. Trapped by ignorance, (all newbies to the neighborhood are caught sooner or later) you stay because you have no choice - at least that is what you think. You quickly realize you have to make an exit. Fortunately Naked Bob isn't much of a 'dancer' (you retreat, they advance).

The trick is to slowly back away - you must face him and continue your affirmations of "Ohs" and "Really's". He will talk louder and louder and take a few steps in your direction but he always returns to his post to await his next victim.

Once you master this technique then you are able to move on to the walk and talk. The key in this maneuver to is to not slow down. Slowing down is the kiss of death.

I've met the neighbor in my new neighborhood that causes people to run in-doors when they see her. Fortunately I've only crossed her path once. Well, she crossed mine but still - our paths crossed. If I only run into her once every year and half that is just fine by me.

Crab, Steak, Salmon & Pizza

Although the relaxation from vacation is turning into a memory I will conjure up what I can to ....

Lessee...

The four days Ryan and I spent together were great. Like I stated previously there weren't a lot of decisions to be made. We ate, slept, walked to the beach and drove a half mile to the library. We ate out a few times. Nothing fancy. It was very relaxing.

Ryan bought a new kite. Ryan flew new kite. I flew new kite just as the wind picked up. I crashed the kite. Then I crashed it again. I gave up.

My family arrived in Newport on Thursday afternoon in a caravan of two. One had a cell phone, the other was following the car with the cell phone. My eldest brother and his wife live in the dark ages. No computer (translation: no e-mail) and no cell phone; it's only been a few years since they've started using the new fangled answering machine. This leaves the rest of the 'connected' family frustrated but what can you do? You can't make someone use e-mail or get a cell phone. I normally don't care that they don't have a cell phone but when your brother is like mine he needs a cell phone. That or a GPS tracking device strapped to his ankle.


I have much, much more to write about the gregariousness of my eldest brother but that will have to wait for another day - or today still but just after I finish this post.

So...the fam's first night in Newport we ate at Mo's - a seafood chain with infamous clam chowder. Eh. It tasted like potato soup. My grandma's chowder was far superior. Ivar's chowder is better. So is Charlestown Cafe's for that matter. I had fish and chips for dinner. Eh. Mo's was our second choice for dinner. The first place came highly recommended and came with a wait time of an hour for our group of 7 adults and 2 children. So Ryan, Mom & I drove down to Mo's because Ryan thought it was a long walk to Mo's from where we were (he was right).

After dinner Eldest brother went to fetch car for wife & children. We waited and waited and waited. Eldest brother was not returning with the car. Ryan, youngest brother & wife and I drove down to find Eldest. We craned our necks from side to side but to no avail. We could not find him. We got all the way to the end of the road where we originally parked and there was eldest brother's car minus brother. We turn back around and spot him - on the other side of the street is Mom, eldest's wife & daughter. He went to fetch the car but got sidetracked looking for a sweatshirt for wife and Mom, wife & daughter were able to walk back to car and meet up with him at the same time. He does need a tracking device - or a cell phone.

Next night we feasted on many different foods. Ryan, mom & I ate crab. Eldest and family ate steak, youngest & wife ate salmon kabobs and pizza.





That's me holding one of the crab. We put them in a bucket of water and in the bathtub while went to the beach. Can't have them crawling away, now can we?

Ryan and I boiled them and mom cleaned them. I cleaned half a crab but she was better at the rest of it so I let her shine.... (that and it was the messiest part of the cleaning process).

We were pretty excited that we found live crab for $7 a pound. The seafood markets were selling them closer to $10 a pound - and to buy just fresh crab meat was $37 a pound! As if!

I was amused the other day when I walked to the corner grocery store at home and saw live crab for $4.50 a pound. I'm thinking we are going to need another crab feast soon. We just need to cook it outside because it smells so bad. How can something so tasty smell so bad?

Before there was any feasting on crab or steak we spent our morning at the Newport Aquarium. We saw otters being fed, sea lions swimming, loads of sharks and got to put our hands in tanks to touch sea anemone & other squishy stuff. I saw two crabs mating. I think they were mating at least. They were facing each other but on the bottom of the tank; I tried to looking underneath to see what I could (there were many theories on what they were really doing - at first Mom thought they were fighting and a little boy said, "look! The mommy crab's holding the baby crab.") but I couldn't see much since I don't bend that well these days and the area was crowded.

Ryan took Laura, my 9 year old niece to the aviary. I do NOT like aviaries. Who wants to go into an enclosed area with poopy bombs flying overhead? Not I. Those birds are too comfortable with people and I don't want to be dive bombed or pooped on.

The only thing the aquarium was missing were penguins but seeing as how it was an Oregon coast aquarium I can forgive them for not having birds native to the Southern Hemisphere there.

At the end of our trip to the aquarium my feet were killing me. I sat on a bench and just waited for everyone to finish up and was glad they were all done, too. We walked back to the car - I waddled - and went back to the house where I was really looking forward to a nap. I laid down for maybe 20 minutes when I was informed it was time to go to the beach.

We piled into three cars and two of us drove the short distance to the beach and the other car went to the surf shop to get a wet suit for Candice (youngest's wife) and wave boards for the loonies who wanted to play in the cold, dangerous Pacific Ocean. We parked it on the beach - Ryan and I in folding camping style chairs and mom and Jenny (eldest's wife) on blankets and beach towels - we looked much more comfortable and much less sandy. Laura immediately stripped down to her bathing suit showing she was a native of the Northwest. The sun was shining and it was pleasant to be sitting in it with a gentle breeze but to be in a bathing suit? No way. She ran to the water and stuck her toes in - then ran back to grab her plastic bucket for water. It was amusing to watch. She would scoop up just enough sand in her bucket to form a hard sludge so when she went to pour it out a little water came out then the rest was suctioned to the bottom of the pail.

About 20 minutes after we got to the beach the surf crew showed up with their wave boards and a surf board. Joel wanted to try surfing since he had never done it before. The two brothers and Candice went into the water with just wave boards. The rest of us on the beach (read: sane ones) kept a head count going. One head bobbing, scan.... two heads bobbing... scan.... three heads bobbing. Sigh. Repeat. We felt somewhat comfortable because the voice of reason was with them in the form of the eldest brother. He is not a dare devil. Sure he probably did some dumb stuff as a teenager but he has since had two kids and has put many years between him and adolescence. Eldest brother grew very, very cold (duh- the Pacific is not a hot springs) so he sensibly left the water to avoid hypothermia and death. Youngest brother was either numb or didn't care and wife was in a wet suit so water temperature was not a factor for her.

As soon as the eldest left the water we became much more vigilant in the watching of the bobbing heads. Youngest brother is a dare devil. Not much respect for the ocean. His wife trusts him implicitly. We, his family, trust him just not when it comes to issues of safety.

We watched them get smaller and smaller in the growing surf. We waved trying to get their attention - to come closer. They waved back. Grrr. They took our frantic waving of them in as a 'hello'. Finally we got it through to them to come closer in. They came out of the water to check in with us. We told them to not go out so far. Youngest said we were over reacting. So when he left us we took that as our opportunity to tell Candice the truth about the ocean. (She's from Oklahoma). We told her:

1. you only have to be up to your ankles to be knocked down then sucked in
2. there are sneaker waves that well, sneak up on you and take you down (then out)
3. 4 people drowned in the Newport area that week alone - one at the very beach we were at

Then we told her what to do if she was caught in a rip tide (let it take you out then swim parallel to the shore and you will eventually end up back on the shore - just maybe a mile away from where you were pulled in - never fight it).

I think she thought we were crazy. Oh, well. Mom said growing up on the coast everyone knew someone who drowned in the ocean. You can never get comfortable around the ocean - it's pretty to look at provides tasty food but it's dangerous.

So, while we were trying to scare, I mean talk some sense into, Candice enough time had elapsed that Joel became quiet cold and decided to not go back in the water.

Score.

Since the wind picked up, was chilling us and giving us free microderm abrasion we decided to head back to the house to start dinner. That's when the crab, steak, salmon and pizza feast began. Oddly enough all of the food came together at the same time. I find it difficult to time toast and eggs so they are done at the same time but 7 people cooked 4 different kinds of food and they all finished within minutes of each other. That's something to write home about (or post on your blog).

The next morning Joel and Candice headed back to Portland to fly home as Joel had to report to his new job on Monday morning - he's going to be teaching 6th graders in a middle school. He's subbed in this school over the last year and says its a cake walk compared to the first school he taught in - an inner city high school where there was no discipline and the principal tried to be the students' friends. I really hope this year goes better for him. He told me a funny story about subbing. At the very beginning of class you have to sacrifice one student to let the other kids know they can't run you over. I thought that was pretty funny. I remember the subs we liked in school - they definelty were not the pushovers.

The rest of the crew headed to Coos Bay for our family reunion. It was about a 2 1/2 hour drive. We only had to stop once to potty and once to pick up some food for the potluck. We only spent about two hours there. Its been 3 years since my last appearance at a family reunion and I was able to see some cousins and aunts and uncles. I also saw lots of people I didn't recognize - not even a little. There were some glaring absences - BJ - the cousin closest to my age that I spent a lot of time with and cousin Marsha.

Just as we were getting ready to leave is when everyone got all chatty. That's usually how it works.

After 30 minutes of goodbyes we jumped back in the car for our 8 hour drive home. We dropped Mom off in Vancouver ate dinner at Subway and continued on. Then something really amazing happened on the way home; actually it is about what didn't happen. Ryan didn't turn into Mr. Grumpy Pants. 11.5 hours in the car in one day didn't anything to him. This is a miracle. I maintained a great attitude, too. Ryan hates driving. He despises road trips. Driving out to his mom's is about his limit - she is about an hour and a half away. My family is an extra 1 to 1.5 hours away. That is a drive he does not like. We got home around 11 or 11:30 pm and did a cat count (one, two), unpacked the car and went to bed.

That's it. We left, we relaxed and we came back. Now we work, work, work until the baby arrives. (OK, so Ryan goes fishing in Alaska for a week and I take the rest of my vacation piece meal until October 5th - my last day of work!!!)

Decisions

There are so many decisions to be made while on vacation. Should I go swimming first or take a nap first? Thai restaurant or family seafood restaurant? Which magazine should I read first, Real Simple or Domino?

Our last two vacations were cruises where you could fill your entire day with activities. They were fun but shore excursions were always stressful. The food was expensive because we landed in tourist hotbeds - the excursions were also expensive. It was stressful trying to find a cab that wouldn't charge more than the guide books told us was a reasonable charge. Walking the streets having vendors try to sell you all sorts of trinkets and junk was stressful.

Now, I window shop, I walk into the cute shops and browse. No pressure! I love it. I have my eye on a super cute purse in one shop. If I still am thinking about it by the end of our time here I just may go buy it.

In one shop I found the sunglasses of all sunglasses. Trendy but not a pair that would make my children laugh in 10 years when they saw a picture of me in them (sorry, Mom - those huge 80's glasses are just too funny). But alas, they were slightly crooked. I was tempted to buy them anyway but that would have been silly.

Ryan is doing some work remotely each day to pad his vacation time for his Alaska fishing trip next week so we've been coming to the library where there is free wireless internet. I am computer #3 which has a 30 minute time limit - the downstairs computers have a 60 minute limit.

My brothers, their wives & kids and my mom are joining us for 2 nights beginning tomorrow. I haven't seen my little brother since Thanksgiving so I'm really excited to see him and his wife. My little bro wanted to go crabbing but after talking to the locals and my mom who grew up on the coast we found out that crabbing season is effectively over and that what ever he would catch would be small and not have a lot of meat. Ryan spotted a fishing boat off some docks that sell fresh crab for $7 a pound (about $14 a crab) - compared to $22 to buy one at a restaurant - or for crab already cracked it's $37 a pound! Mom's going to bring the outdoor gas grill, pot, salt and nut crackers so we can buy it and cook it ourselves. The place we are staying does not permit crab to be cooked inside the unit or to even be consumed inside. I don't blame them - if' the carcass is not discarded properly you end up with a very stinky mess.

Can you tell I'm hungry for seafood? Uh, oh. I only have 5 minutes left and I need to google how much crab a pregnant woman can eat.

Later!

Two Free Entrees

I received a letter yesterday that I opened just before we took off on vacation. It was from the taco joint that served me a side of fingernail in my beverage. They took the appropriate tone of being mortified that such a thing occurred in their fine establishment and let me know that the management and crew at that store have been contacted. They included two measly vouchers for free food. Fine by me. It was gross what happened but I'm not going to crusade against them since I've been eating there for years and it is always clean and the employees are very nice. I view it as an isolated incident. The nail could have come mixed in with the lemon - someone could have cut their nail while cutting up the lemon.

The drive down to Keizer was long. Ryan had so much work to get done before leaving that he didn't get home until almost 1:00, then he had to eat lunch, pack and load the car. We hit the Friday rush hour traffic that starts super early in the summer. We got about 5 miles south of the city when everything came to a screeching halt, even the HOV lane was inching along. It stayed slow all the way to Olympia. It took an extra hour to get from our house to Olympia. An hour! It just confirmed for us why we live in the city. Live in city = easy commute. Sure your house is a little (a lot) smaller, you may or may not have a garage, your lot size is small (5,000 ft sq. is a 'decent' size' and many homes are built on 2,500 ft sq lots), the house is older and has knob and tube wiring, old plumbing and maybe asbestos siding and your property taxes are higher BUT you can get to work in under 20 minutes. It's all about minimizing time spent in the car. When I was selling real estate I would preview houses before I showed them to clients to narrow down what I had to show them and unfortunately I took clients who wanted to live in the sticks (Auburn, Renton, Woodinville). I got stuck in traffic so many times while previewing properties I couldn't fathom that people would be willing to put up with spending so much of their precious time in a car going nowhere because they wanted a house that was all new and shiny.

Now for a vacation update.

Ryan's family reunion was today. It's always fun to see his family, they are all so nice and personable. We got to spend a lot of time with Erika, the only grandchild in Ryan's immediate family - my belly was giving her a run for her money though. Her parents are pretty happy that at the next reunion our little guy will deflect some of the attention from her since she is the only toddler in the family right now. Ryan was really enjoying spending time with Erika as he wants to forge a relationship with her. It's kind of hard since we only see her once a year - we will need to fly out to see her more often so our boy will know his cousin. Erika spent two nights at our house and she said Ryan's name once, my name once or twice and Kea's name non-stop. She even says "Kea dog" in her sleep. Kea should be flattered since she also talks about the Wiggles in her sleep.

Tomorrow morning we are going to meet for breakfast in the hotel then head to a storage locker that all of his grandmother's belongings are in. The family had a chance yesterday to take what they wanted and everything that didn't go is going to a local charity. We took a china hutch (goodbye horrible Ikea buffet!) and a dresser that I will paint and use for the baby's room (or not paint and still use in the baby's room). Once we are done at the storage locker we are going to load up Kea with my mother-in-law and send her back to Belfair and her acreage where she can run and run and run some more. When we pick her up after she's been there for a few days she is the most mellow little lab. Her wiggle power is greatly depleted after Gordy has a week of throwing the ball with her and long walks with Mary Jo. When Gordy's granddaughters are out MacKenzie and the dog both get worn out. I'm surprised MacKenzie hasn't worn out her right arm with all the tennis balls she throws for the dog.

Maybe I'll give another update later on if we have wireless Internet where we are staying. Right now I think I need to sneak down to the dining room to grab something to eat before we all meet at 8 since I'm starving! The kid is burning up food faster and faster these days.

Blame it on Baby Brain

I hear a lot of talk about pregnant women being forgetful. It's a great excuse for those of us who are forgetful in our non-gestational state. Ryan laughed when someone said I was so spacey because of the baby. He knows better.

So, I forgot to call Swell tonight. Sorry. After frantically tidying my work space and finishing up a few odds and ends I had to dash home and eat my oh-so delicious hummus platter that I had the foresight to order from Blue Willow catering at lunch time because I knew I would be too rushed after work to make anything healthy and fast food would be way too tempting and while scarfing down my hummus I had to finish reading my chapters in Organic God and wait for a woman from work to come and pick up my coffee table that was going to a garage sale to benefit a woman with cancer and who has no health insurance and I had to tidy up the house just a little to make it presentable to my girlfriends who know better than to expect a super neat house - but I can try anyway. All within a half an hour.

The coffee table was picked up, I ate half of my hummus and got 1/4 of the way through the last chapter of what I was to have read and I forgot to de-fur the house. Heather is allergic to cats and I normally sweep and take a lint brush to the couch and stuffed chair followed by a wipe down with a damp cloth. Poor Heather had a few sneezing episodes.

I gave the Taco joint one day to respond to my complaint about the fingernail in my drink. They failed. Tomorrow I will go in with cup in hand that has the fingernail taped to it to restaurant and let them know of the prize I found in my drink. I think having a pregnant woman at the counter talking about a fingernail in her drink cup should turn a few heads. I gave them a day to contact me which isn't that much time but when it's something as gross as this they should be a little bit more responsive.

Tomorrow promises to be another full day. Les Schwab at 8 for new brakes. I will have to hang out in Georgetown for an hour and a half while they work on the car unless Meg returns my call because she was going to meet me down there so we could go have coffee. It would be nice to see her and it sure beats hanging out in the Les Schwab waiting area and at the McDonald's across the parking lot. (This neighborhood is not such a fun place to be - very industrial with a lot of no-tell motels and fast food joints).

After I visit Mr. Schwab I get to go to a place and have the car's oil changed in a Jiffy. Then off to replace my cheap walking shoes that I left at Ryan's boss' house on Saturday at the company picnic in Port Orchard. (We went from there straight to a wedding on Fox Island). At least the shoes were cheap. And before I cross the bridge to go back to Beacon Hill - I have a little stop to make where I pick a bone about a fingernail.

After the bone picking I have to pack my bags for vacation, set the cats up with entirely too much food because Gwen is part pig and can't stop eating. She gets so fat when we are gone for more than a few days.

Ah! So much to do. And poor Ryan has even more to do. He's going into work early tomorrow so he can write some memos that have to go out before he can responsibly leave. He's bringing a work laptop with us so he can do some work while we are hanging out at the beach. That's actually not a bad idea because I plan on reading magazines, baby books, doing puzzles and doing a lot of sleeping. Oh, glorious sleep! I should head off to get some right now.

But first an update on Red Van Man turned Red Station Wagon Man.

He's gone. He hasn't been here in a couple of weeks.

Tonight Ryan saw a cop car across the street. We couldn't see who the cops were talking to but we think it was whoever was in the van on the corner almost out of our sight. We think our neighbors called the cops this time. See, the neighborhood isn't all that bad. Why tonight we had live Polka music to entertain us in our bible study. Nothing breaks the silence quite like a tuba solo.

Eew!

Eew as in yelch, yuck, gross, gag.

What's so gross you ask?

It was lunch time. Yep. The grossness involves food. The food establishment shall remain nameless but I wanted a TACO at lunch TIME. I ate my chicken soft taco (no sour cream if my midwife is reading this - just salsa) and mexifries (hopefully my midwife can't read small print) then I took my ice tea with an extra lemon wedge (their wedges are tiny, stingy passer outers of lemon they are) and went back to the office where I continued to nurse on my slightly bitter beverage. I sucked up small bits of ice and crunched them as I'm not allowed to chew on ice when Ryan's around and I sucked lemon seeds and swallowed them no problem.

Re-cap: Taco was delicious even though it had an accident on my dress. Mexifries were so-so and (spoiler alert) thus far the ice tea was well, ice tea. What's the problem?

When I reached the last bit of ice tea I sucked up a seed, some ice and something? Uh, I don't know. It wasn't hard, it wasn't crunchy and it wasn't slippery like a lemon seed so I promptly spit it out in my hand. It was part of a fingernail!!!

Insert shocking dooh-dooh-dooh music here.

What do you do with that? I showed it to an agent in the office to ask what they thought it was. She identified it as a fingernail with clean edges as if it were clipped. So I went on-line and sent in a complaint and if they don't respond by tomorrow I'm going take the fingernail I taped to the cup into the restaurant and ... I don't know.

It's finally here!

After 2 months of sheer exhaustion, 6 months of a pea sized bladder, 2 months of swollen feet and ankles turned tree trunks and 2 months of aches the thing I've been looking forward to has arrived.

It's long awaited arrival came unannounced, no fan fare, no trumpets trumpeting but it's arrival was beautiful. Nesting arrived. It would have just been an itch to clean but I warded off sleepiness and only took one nap today! Since I've been preggo I take two naps on Saturdays and two naps on Sundays. In the first trimester I spent most of the weekends sleeping - more time was spent asleep than awake. Ah, the joys of pregnancy.

It hit me very late on Saturday while Ryan was asleep and I was enjoying my icy foot soak too much to go to bed. I watched a Law & Order re-run and an old Oprah. I didn't watch Oprah this year but still had TiVo record it. Too many celebrities for my taste. After scanning the list of O re-runs I saw one that looked decent - the host of Clean Sweep was on. They showed us a home that was filled with clutter, top to bottom and they cleaned it out in one weekend. Our house is nothing like theirs but our closets are like little sadistic little demons, but what demon isn't sadistic? They call out to me from behind closed doors, "I'm a mess and there's nothing you can do about it."

Today I faced the big box of stuff that accumulated when I would 'clean' before company came over. You know, the box of stuff. You sweep, clean the kitchen, take care of the clothes that have been folded on the kitchen table for a week and before you know it - it's time for your guests to arrive. All of the little things need someplace to go and you have no time to make 8 trips to the basement, 4 to the foyer, 5 to the bedroom and so on. What to do? Gather up all the scattered items and put them in a box to 'take care' after the company leaves.

It's been a year and a half in this house. When this horrible practice started we were in the construction phase so the stuff in the boxes (2 boxes) is quite an assortment. Spackle, pens, stationary, photos, magazines. Gag. It's no wonder I've put it off. But no more!

I threw away, recycled actually, a year's worth of Real Simple and Realtor magazines. That felt good. I was never going to read them again. I cleaned out the linen/game/cleaners/catch all storage closet and made it into games/linens/toiletries. Woo-hoo. Goodwill is going to get a big box of linens and the landfill is going to get a ton of expired medicine. Ryan can not get a head ache or fall ill because we have no medicine for him. I even threw out old cosmetics that I don't use. Break through! My sister-in-law Jenny would be so proud of the progress I made.

When I was done throwing away stuff and putting it into Goodwill piles I was still itching to make a dent in our Pile 'O Stuff so I went to one last closet - the closet in the baby's room. There was my treasure trove of purses. If you know me you know I have a weak spot for purses. It is actually a surprising addiction because if you know me you also know I'm not a fashionista, not a girly girl. Growing up I despised the purse. I vowed I would never use one.

Then on one fateful day at the Vancouver mall, in a shoe store where I was buying a pair of shoes for some special event I spied a sales bin. In that sales bin was the purse that bit me and gave me the purse bug. It was a super cool black 50's (or earlier) style purse with a small handle and hard sides. The style has a name but I can't think of it. I used that purse for many years but the strap finally broke and was not repairable. It was such a cool purse that even guys would comment on it. (In hindsight they were probably trying to hit on me but I was so in love with my purse that I didn't think it unnatural that a straight guy would like it). It was with heavy heart I threw my much beloved purse away (many, many years after it broke, of course).

Now when we go on vacation I commemorate our trip not with a silver spoon or a T-shirt with the name of the place we visited on it but rather with a purse. In Maui I bought a coconut purse - it is a coconut sawed in half, lined with a Hawaiian print cloth and has a zipper and long strap. Great for luaus. In Tulsa (not a place to commemorate visiting but a great excuse to buy a purse), I bought a super cute and super feisty leopard print number. Vegas, Mexico, the Caribbean and Italy. I have a purse to remember each trip by.

So it came as a great shock to Ryan when I came out of the baby's room loaded with purses I no longer used. It was time to say goodbye and let move on to new shoulders. He is very concerned about me getting rid of them; he wants me to be absolutely certain I want to get rid of them because as he said, "Purses are your thing." It makes him sad to see me part with something I like so much. I'm only getting rid of one souvenir purse - bye bye leopard print from Tulsa. It was actually a good trip. I got to see my brother graduate from bible college, went to the Roy Rogers museum, another religious university (super ugly school, I'm not a fan of 60's/70's style architecture) and a really depressing museum of Christian martrys. The purse was from his school and I have no attachment to that school so sayonara!

Oh, boy, it's 5:30 am. I'm getting drowsy again. I woke up at 3:00 with "Sloopy" the oldies song blaring in my head. I couldn't find the off switch so I crawled out of bed and cleaned the kitchen, ate a nectarine and cut up strawberries to surprise Ryan with for his cereal in the morning. I'm hungry again. I'll grab another little something to eat and go back to bed for a couple of hours.

Bleeding Ears

Today is the first day of West Seattle Summer Fest, a.k.a. the West Seattle Street Fair. The festival is on the street right in front of my office. Food, vendors, dogs and children; merriment all around to be had. I ate a so-so beef brisket sandwich at lunch; the gyros looked much better but they had a line and I was short on time. Maybe I should go to the stands with the longest lines; they probably have the best food.

After I scarfed my sandwich 'o meat I waddled back to the office and climbed in my car to head home to let the dog out. I managed to get 15 minutes of sleep in. That was great but way too short. I awoke sleepy and grumpy (for giggles the dog destroyed my new lime green mechanical pencils that were still in their packaging that I bought on sale) and it was time to go finish the other half of my shift.

When I arrived back at work the 'entertainment' part of the Fest had begun. The north sound stage is a stone's throw from our office. Hm, a stone's throw. Maybe I could take the lead singer out. It's bad. Really bad. You could give a physics lesson on sound waves with this band they are so out of key. Coming back to work in a less than peppy mood only to be met with the horrible sounds of "Capping Day" - a band for whom I do not predict great things - has NOT helped my mood. It is like being subjected to American Idol auditions, live.

Ah, they just took a break. I'll go clean the blood out of my ears now.

Blessed and Angry

For about a month now I've been trying to get in to see a massage therapist under my health care plan. Pregnancy and the growth that occurs with it has not agreed with me. My back will spasm just for the heck of it on a short walk, while sitting at my desk - any time it feels like it really. It's not such a great feeling. Sure it is not the worst pain I've ever experienced but it is frequent enough and I imagine only going to get worse as my front load grows ever larger that I would like to have some sort of intervention since drugs are obviously out of the question.

Hence I contacted my insurance company and was Delighted (I was so delighted it called for a capital 'D') to learn massage therapy was covered. Then I was pleased to learn my midwife could make the referral which would save me the hassle of calling my primary's office and leaving a message for her who would leave a message for the referral coordinator to make the referral. I just had to call my midwife or shoot her an e-mail and wa-lah - massage therapy benefits are activated! A week later I see my midwife who is stumped, as is the office staff, at PacifiCare. They were told on one phone call that the midwife can not make the referral that only the primary can. One another call they were told that I didn't have coverage for that benefit. So I said to not worry about it, I would just call my primary's office and make the request.

Request goes in. A week later I receive a notice that the referral has been generated and is to a Massage Therapist in Burien, not West Seattle as I had requested and it had a curious stamp on it that said pre-authorization was not required (red flag - but I'll get to that later); the referral was for the same person who worked in a clinic that had two locations. I called PacifiCare to make sure I could see the SAME provider at the SAME clinic but at the West Seattle branch. No, that was just not acceptable. The doctor would have to submit a new referral for the West Seattle clinic, never mind it is the same clinic! I called two more times and asked the same question and got a different answer. Two of the three people told me I could go to either clinic so I wrote down each of their names, the date and time I called just so I have some back up if all three were wrong and PacifiCare tries to be shysters about paying. I also learned on that call that PacifiCare didn't receive the referral but that it takes up to 10 days for it to be processed. So I wait a week and call back but in the mean time I called my primary's office to make sure the referral was sent to PacifiCare. The receptionist at my primary's office assured me it had been sent.

Monday rolls around and I call PacifiCare after waiting a sufficient amount of time for the paper work to be processed. They still had not received the referral. Lame. I called my primary's office and leave a message for the referral coordinator telling her that PacifiCare needs the referral. Tuesday afternoon I call the referral coordinator and leave another message asking her to return yesterday's call. She called back after a few hours to tell me she didn't send the referral to PacifiCare because they never require pre-authorization for Massage Therapy. Great. I'm the one exception to the rule. I told her the last person I talked to heaved out our benefits manual and read to me the part about needing pre-authorization. Referral Coordinator apologized and said she would call PC and get it taken care of. Goodie.

This morning RC calls. PacifiCare told her to contact the ASHS group of alternative health care providers to submit the request. ASHS then tells RC that their contract with PC ended June 30th (even I knew that). Jackasses, the whole lot of them at PC! Through the magic of the Internet I found the phone number for the newly contracted group of Alternative Health Care Providers and give it to the RC who by the way earns every cent of her wage because she has to deal with insurance companies and the drones they hire.

Receive a call a few hours later from RC. No referral is needed. Not from the doctor, not from the Massage Therapist and no pre-authorization is required. PacifiCare does not enter the loop until AFTER the first visit with the MT! You've got to be freakin' kidding me!!! It took a month to get to that answer?! And, I just found out that the MT has to contact PC after the first visit to get pre-authorization for continuing visits.

Then I got to start the wonderful journey of finding a provider in Seattle who was in the American Chiropractic Network that accepted PacifiCare that provided prenatal massage that had hours I could work with.

Being the dork that I am and growing ever more so into one thanks to Ryan, I did my new favorite thing and made an excel spreadsheet. Watch out folks, April knows how to have a good time! On said spreadsheet I put in all of the providers and make room for their hours. Everyone was regular business hours. Then something glorious happened... a provider offered appointments until 8pm! I was so excited I said, "No! 8pm? That's great! What do you have this Friday evening?" "By the way, I have PacifiCare." The whole group dumped PacifiCare last year! PacifiCare is such a pain in the proverbial posterior that the providers dump them. No one has gotten around to taking their name off the approved provider list. It was so sad I almost cried.

Fortunately I found someone who is willing to stay late and see me after work but she can't squeeze me in for 2 more weeks. Do I go during work and go through the hassle of finding someone to cover my shift for an hour and a half or suffer for 2 more weeks?

I pretty well covered the angry part, so much hassle for a service we pay for, now the blessed part. I remember the day back in college when I was on my parent's insurance that covered major medical illnesses that was only good if you were hit by a car or had a brain tumor. The blessed part is pretty simple and obvious. I have health insurance. Health insurance that not only covers seeing the doctor with $10 co-pays and prescription benefits but I have insurance that covers massage therapy. The whole labor and delivery and all of my prenatal visits are only going to cost us $50. $50! That's a one time co-pay. How unreal is that? Sure Ryan has to pay a portion of his insurance deductible for himself and for me - and soon little Jermaine but that's still one heck of a deal.

This may not be the most exciting read of my posts but it sure has been therapeutic writing it all down, especially when I put it in perspective at the end. It's a headache worth having.

Just call me Homer

Yeah, you know what that means. It was entirely too hot today for a lot of clothes; it was over 90 and tomorrow is going to be at least 95. The house was well over 80 inside before I cooked dinner and really heated up the house. After eating dinner and washing the dishes I thought I would just sit down and put my hideously swollen feet up. Way too hot. I headed into the bedroom and put on a plain white t and headed into the living room. (By the way, the Plain White Ts is a great band - check out their song "Delilah"). I rounded the corner into the living room to present myself to Ryan to make sure he was cool with me hanging out - pun intended - in my T-shirt and undies. He laughed and said he didn't care. What do you know? Wearing as little as a lady can get away with (who is slowly becoming uncivilized and very un-lady like) worked! I cooled down enough that I had to get up and put on more clothes.

That was last night. Today is a little hotter and by a little I mean a lot; 7 degrees makes a big difference. Sure those of you reading this in Georgia or Okla -gag- homa - I can't even write it without shuddering- may be poo-poohing my complaints about the heat because you are in searing heat with humidity to match. Well, that sucks for you that you have to live in the South. We in the majestic Northwest are accustomed to pleasant 70 degree summers (and wet, wet, wet winters but that is what gives us our glorious greenery and it is not pertinent to my whining of the extreme heat we are having) and when the mercury - or whatever they use in thermometers these days - rises above 80 we wither and retreat to the air-conditioned spaces like Starbucks with their burnt coffee and pleasant atmosphere while the younger crowd has a different way to beat the heat. Scantily clad hoochie mamas head to Alki beach to entice the gang-bangin' wannabes trying to get their 'wazzup' on to yell all sorts of 'flattering' comments at them from their low-riding cars that match their low riding pants in an effort to hook up and swap diseases transmitted through bodily fluids. Then there are the super young kids (junior high) who look up to the hoochie mamas and gang-bangin' wannabes in their rituals of courtship and learn how to relate to the opposite sex. Scary. Their parents really should keep a better eye on them.

In other news from Van Row - Red Van Man is now Red Station Wagon man. Last week I saw him across the street sitting on the grass under the shade of a young tree eating lunch. A woman and gaggle of kids walking on the sidewalk passed him and crossed the grassy strip to the van. She had opened the passenger door and the gaggle of kids filed in. She walked around, looked at me - not a look to concern me - just looked, and climbed into the drivers seat. That's the last I've seen of the red van but not the last I've seen of Red Van man, now Red Station Wagon Man. His comings and goings are less regular since the red van was whisked away by the woman and gaggle of kids but he's still a familiar site. I must say I prefer the van. He was not at eye level when I was getting in and out of my car. It kind of makes me feel like a dog that I don't like making eye contact with him. When Kea has been a naughty dog (which she frequently is) she will not make eye contact and when she does it is fleeting - as if she is testing the water. Well, I digress yet again. There's actually not much more to say about Station Wagon man. He showed up at 4 am today and was gone when I got up but was back at his post when I left for work. At lunch time when I went home his car was there, minus him, with the drivers side window rolled down. I guess he didn't want to hang out in a car that was baking in the sun all day - maybe he was lying down in the back.

Stay cool and stay tuned for a story about my insurance company that will make your blood boil - or at least sympathize with my state of boiling blood. : )

One Glorious Hour

What could put me in such a great mood? Leaving work one hour early. There is a big difference between leaving at 5pm and leaving at 6pm (the difference is even greater in Autumn and Winter but I'll take it anyway I can get it). I have big plans.

1. Play with Kea; it's a lot more fun for her than it is for me. I just stand there and throw the ball while she runs like the retriever she is to retrieve the ball.

2. Change out of this dress! It's a super cute maternity dress but I've been in it all day. Exciting stuff.

3. Clean out my future Outdoor Living Room space. I am going to haul out the old rusted round table that is in there now (left by the previous owner) and scrub it with hard bristle scrubber and soapy water. Then I'm going to spray paint it (while wearing a mask - outdoors, ventilation doesn't get much better than that).

4. Bake the summer pasta dish I made a couple of weeks ago and froze for a time when I didn't want to cook (which is often).

*********

Well, it is 8:34 in the evening and what have I done with my one extra glorious hour?

1. I played with the dog until she petered out. I kind of like the hot weather because she quits chasing the ball much sooner. She can't pant really hard and keep a tennis ball in her mouth - it really impedes the retrieving of the ball.

2. I'm still in my dress but see #3.

3. Instead of cleaning the rusty old table I botched some puzzles while lying in bed in my wife beater tank top (dress was off briefly but went back on - see#4) and took a nap with our over sized ceiling fan cooling me off (thanks to Ryan for turning on the ceiling fan after snickering upon seeing me in said wife beater on the bed with the blankets all piled on his side and my Buddha belly hanging out of my tank top; attractive, I know.

4. Partook of summer pasta dish that I took out of the freezer that Ryan cooked while I was napping in my half naked state of hotness - purely a statement of my thermal being - since it has been established that a half naked pregnant lady may be cute as in the way a kitten is cute she is not 'hot' in that miserable state. I put my nifty maternity dress back on to eat dinner in the living room as I'm a cilivilzed woman; I'm no Homer Simpson, I'm not going to eat dinner in my underoos. Ooh, they should make underoos for adults. I used to love my underoos. I think I had Wonder Woman underoos; yeah, I was super cool.

Tomorrow is Independence Day. We're going to a barbecue my friend Jenn is hosting in Magnolia - I haven't spent much time with her lately so it will be nice to see her and as a bonus the location should have a decent view of the fireworks. I don't know what side dish to bring to share. Maybe caprese salad - but that is mess to make. Maybe I'll 'make' potato salad from Metropolitan Market. Yes, I like that idea.

Hope everyone has a safe 4th of July .