Certifiable

I've signed up for NaBloPoMo again.

Because I'm insane.

Because I owe a debt of honour to Fussy, my old next-door-neighbour, who actually birthed the concept of NaBloPoMo, and also coincidentally birthed a baby in her bathroom, both of which inspire awe and respect.

(Note, I will follow her with NaBloPoMo, but there is not a chance in hell Baby #2 will be born anywhere but in the hospital, with me attached to a drip full of drugs - unless of course I slip in the shower at 41 weeks and creature #2 shoots out and skitters across the lino in a torrent of amniotic fluid....).

Sorry, I digress, so I will be attempting to post every day in November, a rather ridiculous mission considering that these days if I'm not at work I'm asleep. Consider the fact that I've eked out a grand total of seven (7) posts this month, I think I have my work cut out for me. Basically I have to write 'cut fingernails' on my LOTTD (list of things to do) because otherwise it will just not get done (JN*F*GD).

I think I need a challenge like this to shake me up a bit. I've been signing up for a lot of crazy things these days (hosting book club, volunteering at Anna's school) as if I'm aware that if not now, when. Answer? Never. The New Year and the New Baby are hovering just over the horizon and I'm trying to fit things in, and that includes posting.

I've been lax.

And you probably thought it was because I had nothing of interest to write about! Shame on you. Why, only this morning LK was leaving the house and said 'can I have a goodbye kiss please' to Anna, only to have her reply 'sure, but I've got to make some calls first' then she turns her back on him, grabs her cow cell phone and starts chatting away, to who? Someone important that's who, leaving LK pausing to reflect how many times he's said to her 'sure, I'd love to read a book/hunt for bugs/play Princesses I just have to make some calls first'. Passive aggression or mimicry? You be the judge.

Or how about my doctor this week who during my routine appointment went, 'your blood pressure's great, bloodwork's spectacular (I'm not making this up), weight is great,' .......and while I'm busy thinking, dude, slow down on the coffee, he without skipping a beat says 'have we talked about sterilisation?'

Wha?

And you thought I had nothing to write about. Hold on to your hats people, November's going to be fu-uh-un.

More Tricky Than Treaty

I need your help - any suggestions on what a heavily pregnant woman can go as for Halloween?

I've had some suggestions ranging from the hilarious but vague (Sarah Palin's daughter) to the just plain rude (a humpback whale - thanks Anna).

My costume of preference would be me, in my pajamas lying on a couch surrounded by candy wrappers, but that's a little hard to pull off at somebody else's party.

Any thoughts?

Morning Glory

What's the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning?

For me it's usually - is it a work day or a non-work day? Quickly followed by - how the chuff did she crawl in to bed again without me knowing, and how long have I been sleeping with a 3 year-old's bottom in my face?

The reason I write this, is, courtesy of waking up more often than not face-to-arse with my daughter, I am privy to her first thoughts of a morning (and some pretty healthy farts). Recently, they've been nothing if not bizarre (thoughts not farts - thank God). Clearly she's processing some important stuff in her sleep. She used to wake up and ask for 'Anna TV' or some 'cold milk' but these are just last week's gems - literally the first words out of her mouth:

'Mum, I was finking, what are those white fings either side of an elephant's trunk?'

'Hoop rhymes with loop!'

'Octopusses eat crabs'

'Mum, what kind of sea animal are you going to be for Halloween? I fink you should be a whale. A humpback whale. I will be a crab and Dada can be a eel'.

'Mum, you hold Dada's bottom..........and I'll hold his top and we can measure him!'

Dodging Bullets

What a rollercoaster year this is turning out to be.

First creature #2's amnio drama, and then of course, our ever-present financial meltdown. It's not as if I haven't regaled you with how it feels to have a financial Sword of Damocles hanging over your head. I'm sure you enjoyed those laugh-a-minute posts. What I didn't mention was that our deadline was October 1st. Two weeks ago our payments were set to increase by literally thousands of dollars. If we'd moved out of our apartment, rented it and lived in a cardboard box on the beach we'd have still been in trouble. And we have a baby on the way!

We started looking for a larger cardboard box.

Of course we tried to curb our champagne lifestyle. By which I mean of an evening I would say, 'that chair, I mean seriously, how often do we use it? Can I put it on Craigslist?'

Today we received a financial olive branch. The chuffing cavalry finally arrived in the form of a FedEx'd proposal from our mortgage company. More a stay of execution than a plan, but oh Lord the relief.

I feel like I've forgotten how to breathe out.

LK just called to say that he feels like running up to random people on the street and hugging them.

I wish you all half the joy I'm feeling right now, I'm literally laughing and crying.

Stupid baby hormones.

Dear Health Insurance

No, my daughter tripping and falling resulting in a small head contusion was not:

1) The result of a work accident:
a - and no, she is not self employed
b - and we do not intend to file a Workers Compensation claim

2) Due to the involvement of another party (possible parental negligence, yes)

3) We will not be describing how the 'accident' took place

4) The injury was not the result of an automobile accident

5) No police report was filed. (!)

6) We have not retained an attorney. (!!!)

7) She is THREE and will not be signing your form, well not in cursive anyway.

Just think how much money your company would save if you just did a bit of chuffing research before blindly sending out forms. This was the second form incidentally, the first one gently inquiring if she had any other form of coverage.

Bloody hell just pay the bill you muppets.

Their questionnaire reminded me of one of those Cosmo personality quizzes, where you were always aching for an f) none of the above choice, because instead your options went something like this:

Was your child:

a) Injured in a car accident (please can the other driver pay?)
b) Injured in her place of employment (please can they pay?)
c) Set upon by a gang of delinquents (please provide their names and applicable insurance details).
d) Injured as a result of a previously unreported pre-existing medical condition (please can you pay?)
d) Injured whilst pursuing a dangerous sporting activity (your policy will be canceled forthwith).
e) She's 3 and shouldn't run in Crocs.

Now, a form like this would have been much more appropriate:

Dear parents of valued client #5638975162345612:

1: Were you failing to pay proper attention at the time? Extra points if you were drunk.

2: Was the patient wearing inappropriate footwear?

3: Did you attempt to swab the wound with a baby wipe while trying to get the blood away from your fancy white sweatshirt?

4: Did you try and stop her crying by offering her chocolate?

5: Did you let your child with a head injury sleep for an hour in the car while you searched in vain for a hospital?

If you answered yes to any or all of these questions your child will be appropriated by Blue Shield of California and made to work off her debt to society in the claims processing department.

Hey, everybody, let's get socialized medicine!

Please!

Size of a Cow

I'm not that big, but I'm not really that small either. Being pregnant has taught me many things, one of them being that people generally don't have a f**king clue how big you're supposed to be at 25 weeks, 32 weeks, 40 weeks etc - but they'll certainly feel free to tell you how they think you should look. All babies grow differently, placentas attach in different places, and we all have a different amount of room between our pelvis and our rib cage. So, while it may sting a little for my uncle, a retired GP to say 'you're on the large side for 28 weeks' (after I'd already lied because I wasn't quite at 27 weeks) I'm just going to have suck it up. What does he know? He's probably only seen three maybe four hundred thousand pregnant woman in his career. That means nothing. They were all in the north of England and probably starved for decent food.

I've decided my response to people saying 'wow that's going to be a big baby' will be, 'not as big as your mouth'. Then I'm going to punch them in the neck.

If I weigh myself in the morning I've put on a *scant* 17lbs, just before I go to bed it's climbed to 21lbs. All completely normal. LK continues to be a superhero (probably because he realizes how close to neck-punching I'm getting). Last night after I dragged my massive frame up the stairs and vowed that this will be my last child, he said he thought I was handling it all much better than last time. I'm not sure I believe him, but it was a sweet thing to say. His neck is safe for a few more hours.

Most of the time I feel pretty good. I make comic grunting sounds whenever I have to pick something up off the floor (I'm seriously considering investing in one of those pooper-scooper doo-dads for clearing the carpet of Anna's positive zoo of plastic creatures). I can no longer bend straight down, instead I have to bow my knees akimbo to make room for the belly. My lower back is getting a little achy, but then I am still going to a weight-lifting class, so presumably I only have myself to blame. I can still run around after Anna, even if she pushes the envelope and breaks in to a sprint at the park and makes a bee-line for moving traffic. I can still sneeze without peeing, but only if I cross my legs fast enough.

My Mum reminded me about kegel excercises helping the perineum pre-birth. Apparently it reduces the risk of tearing. I'm not sure I have a perineum these days though, and I'm certainly not about to check. My theory on birthing this second baby is: do no kegel exercises, maintain no pelvic floor muscle tone and the baby will simply fall out while on the way to the car one morning. Perfect.

While seeing a 20lb weight gain admittedly did give me a good old scare last night (I only weigh myself about once a week) the thing I'm having the most problems with is the hunger. I am constantly thinking about food. Whilst eating one thing I'm already deciding what to eat next. I'm making bad decisions, eating a lot of rubbish because I'm too lazy to forage for a carrot. Or I'll eat the carrot in lieu of a marshmallow, but then I'll eat the marshmallow too. I am ready for the hunger to subside, I feel like a calorie black hole. I feel genuinely sorry for people who experience this level of hunger day in day out. I had my 1 hour glucose tolerance test last week, and was really quite surprised that I didn't get the call telling me I'd failed. I have been craving sugar to such an extent that I'd convinced myself I had gestational diabetes. I think the real answer is I'm working more or less full time, running around after Anna constantly, and I'm craving sugar because I'm tired. Really chuffing tired. If you're finding it hard to muster the energy to get off the couch and find that princess crown/plastic meer cat/Lion King DVD it's hard to make the right choice between a tomato or a handful (bagful) of ketel corn.

LK will say that I'm merely the vessel and creature #2 is the one in control. If I'm hungry, eat, and after all if she's only got a partially functioning umbilical cord, maybe now is not the time to diet. So I'm compromising, stuffing my face but also exercising a lot. Lots of walking round the neighbourhood, pushing my 30lb 3 year old in her jogger whilst trying not to nick a swig of her chocolate milk.

Basically I'm trying not to think about the possibility of a 10lb baby.

Belly Laughs

Stupid/bizarre/WTF things people have said to me during this pregnancy:


"Oh, you didn't sound pregnant on the phone"

"A girl? Looks like you're going to have to go for a third to get your boy"

"Well, your weight's 'bumped up a bit' " (my doctor on learning of my 7lb in 1 month weight gain)

"Don't get too big" (asinine friend of my MIL)

"Wow, I'd hate to see how big you got if you were to have a third"

"Jesus fucking Christ, if I hear one more thing about your weight........ you're pregnant for God's sake,......bloody hell, you're going to get bigger, deal with it..............................................and er, you've never looked more beautiful?" - LK