Mama Kate

I think a lot of people have already seen this pic on Facebook, but I promised some of these here too.  And this is the best.  I know the Tanqueray is a little out of place...we'll just assume it was stolen.  (We forgot we had a Jack bottle in the cabinet.)  Maybe we'll do a couple more when I'm even bigger.  We'll see.  Should probably do a few "serious" pics as well, but this was just way more fun than that bare belly touching. 

Well, it's Friday, and this week seems to have flown by somehow.  Joe's been working his same stupid long hours, but after he didn't get home until 7pm on Tuesday, anything prior to that is now "early."  Still, I was grateful that he was able to make my 2-hr Centering Group appt yesterday, taking me out to lunch afterward.  Yay!  Oh, and I got a new midwife!!!  I really like her and talked to her about the same thing I did with the other one when I was told to "talk to someone."  This lady instead told me that pregnancy just does some weird stuff to people, and she didn't seem to think I was having panic attacks.  She said my BP differences form week to week were normal and that if it continued after the kid is born, then maybe be evaluated.  Hooray.  She was much more chill about it, and I have relaxed more about it as well.  YES.  Also, baby girl was lively with a heart rate of 158.  That's a bit higher than usual, but then again she has been more active lately - trying to bust out of my abdomen Aliens style.  

We also got to tour the Labor and Delivery unit, which I think everyone should do prior to delivery.  Seeing where everything goes down and being able to ask questions about it all certainly takes a bit of the edge off.  Also, I think I would like to labor a bit in the new birthing tub they now have.  It's really big and nice and CLEAN!!  With that, I'm still set to try this the ol' natural way, and I'm officially on track to have a midwife present at the birth (you have to specifically sign up for that, despite who your appts are with).  Oh, I also got a note from my midwife about going to Mexico next week, so I should be able to get there and back.  It's all coming together.

Wait, have I mentioned on here that Joe and I are going to Mexico next week for a wedding?  We are.  It should be a good time, as it's at an all inclusive resort (eat, eat, eat), though I'm still a little freaked out about flying this late.  I mean, it's not that long of a flight, and the worst I should suffer is a little swelling and having to use the airplane bathroom.  Still, I just really, really, REALLY do not want to have something happen and give birth in Mexico...or mid-flight...but I'd rather it be in the air than in Mexico.  The online mommy forums indicate lots of folks fly this late or later and outside the country at that with no issue.  Plus, my pregnancy has been pretty run of the mill, so I'm really going to try to not freak out too much, and Joe being with me will really help.  At the very least, it's a free trip to Mexico, so we need to soak up one last hoo-rah together!    

Wah Wah Wah

Well, I'm happy to announce that my neighbor and I are still friends (and thanks for your feedback on how to handle things...glad to read we're all on the same page).  Of course I don't think the neighbors and I will ever see eye to eye on how dogs fit in with a family, but I'll just be happy if they continue to keep theirs from breaking out and bothering me.  Her husband reinforced the the break-out area with metal stakes, which seems to have worked because I did not see the dogs appear in my garage all weekend, nor did I get a text asking me to check on them.  Woohoo.  I went over there yesterday to make sure we're still friends, and we are.  Apparently the day of the last doggy issue she was also having a bad day at work, which prompted the "take them to the pound" comment.  She's a hair dresser, and I guess there was some bitch 21 year old giving her a hard time about her highlights.  I dunno.

Speaking of the weekend, Joe's mom was here, and it went pretty well.  We probably spent way too much money, eating out all the time, but oh well.  We at some good stuff, so it was at least hopefully worth this week being a "poor" week.  We also did some baby clothes shopping...well, Janiece did, and I bought a couple maternity things.  Between the two days of cleaning leading up to her visit (without Joe's help due to his shitty work hours), and then the visit itself, I was exhausted when she left Sunday afternoon.  The one small issue Joe and I had was that Janiece was so excited she seemed to talk nonstop.  It was a little overwhelming, and quiet was welcome at the visit's close. 

So here it is a new week...I'm actually 30 weeks pregnant today, which is a little scary.  It's also Dex's third birthday - yay!  The pups and I are just hanging out.  I should be doing stuff, but one can only handle so much cleaning, etc, before one wants to eat a gun.  I really need to go work out.  I miss being able to go in the evenings when I feel at my best, but now Joe's schedule dictates otherwise.  Bah.  He's of course working out as we speak, and ya know what, I'm tired of hearing about his damn workouts.  Why in the hell did he have to choose now to get ripped??  I mean I'm getting bigger by the day, and on top of that, my workouts are falling by the wayside.  Gahhhhh.  Not to mention he also plays soccer a couple times a week as well.  I don't even know how to play soccer, but I sat watching his game yesterday evening with envy for girls on the team and their ability to run freely and kick the shit out of a ball.  I want that.  Plus, I'm tired of having to use every nasty public bathroom due to everything squishing my bladder.  Yeah.  And while we're at it, I'd really like to have a fucking drink.  Instead, I got to watch Joe and his mom drink G&Ts all weekend.  Hopefully this is all worth the sacrifice, and I hear it is.  I just really hope that with everything I've given up to keep her healthy and bright, my girl doesn't turn out to be a dumb ass.  What a kick in the pants that would be. 

PS.  Mock pregnancy pics coming soon - think trailer trash prego chick.  Gotta have some fun with it, right?

Neighbor Feud? Really?

So I think I've written about my awesome neighbor before...she and her family live right next door, and we've gotten pretty close over the last couple years.  She looks out for me a whole lot when Joe is gone, and I try to return the favor, though it's hard for one to do for four what four did for one.  Anyhow.  We've gotten along quite well.  Until now.  It's a dog issue, and thankfully, not my dogs.  See, in the summer time, they go out to their lake house for the weekend and leave their dogs at home.  It's not that big of a deal since they're outside dogs, though I still feel bad that they're totally left behind all the time.  Anyway. 

The real issue I have is that after they're gone for the weekend, I get a text asking me to check on the dogs...food, water, or if there's a storm, see if the dogs have gotten out (they're afraid of thunder and immediately break out of the gate).  It's been every weekend for the last couple weeks.  Now, here and there it's not that big of a deal, but lately we are super busy.  Plus, not only do I feel like an afterthought when I'm not asked ahead of time, I'm big and pregnant, so I end up asking my husband (whose only free time to do what I need him to get done is on the weekend) to do it.  She just assumes we'll be home and able to check on them, and that's starting to grate on me.  Also, this past weekend, the dogs came over to our house after a little bit of thunder while we were trying to work in the garage on the damn dresser for our kid's room.  We put them back in their pin, and they got right back out.  And of course them hanging out in our garage made our dogs go nuts in the house.  Can they play together?  No, because their male attacks Dexter.  No good.  So I got pissed off about that but politely let the neighbors know what had happened.  After the fact all she really said was sorry and that she's tired of them too.  Uh, okay.  So we ended up stopping working in our garage because we had to shut the door to keep the dogs out which made it stifling.  Whatever, I was pissed, but moved on.

That brings us to today.  I was trying to clean the damn house for the mother-in-law visit starting tomorrow, when Dexter started barking toward the garage.  I looked out there, and those damn dogs were in my garage (I keep the door open for ventilation on these hot days).  One had pulled some trash out (my bag where I dump the vacuum contents) and was eating and spilling it.  I was hot about that and went screaming after them, successfully running them off in record time.  After I cleaned up the small mess, I texted my neighbor (since she was at work) to let her know.  I also tried to call her daughter to let her know.  A couple hours later I get the same thing as usual from the neighbor that she's sorry and that she's frustrated too, but then she tells me (via text) to call the pound if they keep bothering me.  What??  Dude, I'm not doing that, especially knowing that it's a kill shelter.  Fuck man, just take care of your damn dogs!  She did send her kids over to clean up...but as it was much later, I already had. 

So the texts continued for a bit, where I told her I liked her dogs and did not want them to be killed, so I would not be calling the pound.  I also told her I loved the fam and didn't want to seem hateful.  I did suggest that she place a free craigslist ad to help find them new homes since that seemed to be her goal...and she has joked about getting rid of them many times in the past.  She responded that the dogs would freak out with new owners, and her kids would freak out without the dogs.  Again, there was no solution from her end, and I got frustrated, so I wrote back that I guess they'll just have to find a way to keep them.  And then I added that we're getting busier and busier and will not be able to continue to check on the dogs every weekend.  I even damn apologized for it.  She never responded.

There are three key issues for me in this whole situation:  1)  I don't like being indebted to people because I feel like there is an underlying expectation for you to be at their beck and call.  2)  My dogs are like family, and I cannot imagine leaving them every weekend.  3)  She doesn't come up with a solution for her dogs.  Just says she's sorry and that she's tired of them too - feels the same way I do.  This last one is particularly frustrating because I feel it's a cop out.  They are your dogs, so you must be responsible for them and find a way to solve the dog problem.  My dogs don't require being checked on every weekend, nor do they break out and bother people.  I just expect the same courtesy, and not to be told to "just call the pound."  What do you think?  Am I wrong here?  Or just an asshole?  Does it matter that she's done a lot for me in the past, and now I'm not just putting up with the doggy bullshit? 

Hot Damn [Georgia]

Haha.  I enjoyed your comments.  And yes, I seemed to have gained a little weight in my uterus, Susan.  Weird.  The belly is odd, and I'm not sure what prompted me to actually take bare pics of it.  I'm still getting used to it.  Sometimes I still think I can fit through spaces that I cannot, and I get wedged.  Joe watched that happen at Babies R Us.  Got stuck between a crib and a changing table.  Meh.  Maybe I already wrote about that?

Yeah, I've cooled off a little more about the whole midwife/counseling issue.  The thing is, I wasn't even freaking out when that stuff happened.  One of the times was when we were on our way to the beach - I was happy and excited to be going.  Oh well.  I wonder if it wasn't a blood sugar thing...because the second time we were on our way to Atlanta, but I snacked on almonds and drank some water and voila.  Or maybe I now have subconscious issue with riding in cars?  Eh.  When I've actually been real bent out of shape and freaking out, crying, etc, I haven't had anything like this.  I'm just not going to worry about it.

Dude, it was a steamy damn day here.  Heat index well over a hundred, and it's not cooling down.  Even now at 11pm, it's apparently 87 but "feels like 96."  Of course this was the day I forgot my water bottle while running errands on post.  Meh.  I managed to still sweat profusely, as I was good and hydrated from lunch, as well as from the 96 oz of water I drank yesterday.  I mean, I sweat tons now that I'm this pregnant.  Maybe TMI, but my underwear just immediately gets soaked as soon as I step outside - you'd think I'd ran a marathon or something.  Sweaty undies ultimately means a sweat mark on my actual shorts, which sucks, but there's nothing I can do about it.  I'm not gross.  I know I sported an ass sweat mark for most of the day.  Whatev.  I'm not wearing damn denim in this weather to hide a little ass sweat. 

Hmm, I'm actually hesitant to mention the main reason I was on post today...but I will.  Jusssst maybe don't tell Dad or Jan.  We got on WIC today.  That's right.  We're now getting assistance from the government.  Several of my friends are on it (and they're not disgusting welfare moms with a crack problem).  Instead, they are Army wives.  The Army doesn't pay that great, and the rationale ultimately (for me) comes down to the fact that if the government uses my husband, then I guess we'll go ahead and use the government.  Part of me feels guilty knowing what I used to make when I was working, but you all know my rationale for quitting.  And yes, I have thought over and over about the whole "if you can, then do for yourself."  But hey, if Joe works a job where it is required he be sent to a war zone, and his pay is still such that he qualifies for assistance, well then I guess I'm alright with getting some free milk and bread out of the deal.  I'm at least a responsible person (unlike some of those psych hospital jokers who feel entitled), and it's not forever.

 

Head Case

[Pics added after the fact...from a camera phone (sorry for poor quality).]

28weeks, 6 days

Doesn't it kind of look fake?  ;-)

Post now or post later?  I've become a little slack at posting in the evenings because I'm usually too tired, and lately I've been getting Joe to scratch my arm while we both read.  But, he won't be home tonight - 24 hour staff duty.  Still, I feel like writing now.  I guess.  Or may be this is just me putting off going to the gym.

The gym.  As I've kind of written about before, I do (did?) pregnancy exercise (sets of three) circuits three times a week.  My schedule's been a little off lately...pretty much since Joe got back, but it's been not much of anything for the last week and a half.  Bleh.  Now I'm ready to get back into it, but with these pressure changes in my belly, it's a little scary.  I really think it's this girl balling up in there.  I've written about it before - sometimes all across the lower part of my belly hardens, but then sometimes it's just on one side with a hard lump (a butt?).  It doesn't hurt, but it kind of takes my breath away.  Freaks me out.  I'm sucking down water now, though, so I will go today.  Since I'm in the third trimester now, I think I'll start doing just two sets of my circuit instead of three and maybe walk a little more.  Gah, I hate walking on a treadmill, but it's too damn hot to walk outside unless I go at midnight.  Oooh, or a yoga dvd maybe?? 

So it's just me and the pups for the rest of today and tonight.  I'll sleep better knowing a 0415 alarm won't be going off in the AM.  After it went off this morning, I was up for the next two hours, despite having slept really well over the weekend.  And what a weekend it was.  I spent a lot of it being pissed off at Joe and him freaking out in response.  It was initially sparked by....you guessed it, the xbox.  However, I hear it's pretty normal for pregnant ladies to start hating their spouses a bit by the third trimester for really not reason, and honestly, we've all been pretty shocked by my calmness up to this point.  Still, I feel like however I act now is going to get me deemed crazy.  See, twice or so now I've had these episodes in the car (while Joe drives) when I start getting "swimmy" headed and my pulse kind of goes out of whack.  In both instances, I reclined the seat and laid back, taking deep breaths, and after a few minutes I was normal again.  I've never had that before, so I mentioned it to my midwife at my last appointment.  She immediately suggested it was a panic attack and told me I should talk to someone.  Bitch, wasn't I trying to talk to YOU??  I mean before you tell me I need damn counseling, can we not talk for more than two-five minutes?

I'm of course not against counseling, but it pissed me off.  When I used to meet with patients, I at least listened to them for a bit before I started throwing around intervention methods.  Uggh.  Then I found her telling me other things I'd talked to patients about - exercise, sleep, journaling.  With that, I tried to insert some humor telling her I'm an MSW and actually worked a psych hospital for a while and that (with all this) I was flashing back to my own patients.  Well, she just stared at me and asked if I was opposed.  Fine.  I went ahead and took her list of counselors, but I'm going to make it my last resort (not rule it out).  I feel that if I can get back to exercising regularly and actually sleeping well, my ability to handle every day stressors will be much improved.  I plan on actually using some of the Bradley Methods for relaxation for this as well, which of course will be used later when I'm pushing this kid out.  Bottom line, I'm not happy about how this was handled by my midwife, who I'd really liked up to that point, and it has made me feel worse, paranoid that I'm crazy (even though I know better).  What's up, though, is that she got orders to go to Ft. Bragg, so I'll likely never see her again.  So much for continuity in services, but in this situation, I'm okay with that.

Serenity Now

I'm glad today is over.  I'd be even more glad if I didn't have to be on post in the morning.  Bah.  I've pretty much been a zombie today.  See, we noticed Lu had a bad limp last night (somehow during her last outing before bed she got injured), so I was worried about her.  Then at 0230, after I'd been asleep for just three hours, I had to pee.  Upon doing that, I heard Lu-dog moving around and got back up about 0245 to find her down on the ground at the foot of our bed after crawling off her own.  Thinking she had to go out, I tried to coax her outside.  No dice.  Last resort, I had to wake Joe up and have him carry her outside, which he did, and good thing too because she really did have to go.  After that, we got back in bed, and I laid her a while since I've stopped sleeping well anyway.  At some point after 0300, I knocked my cup of water off my nightstand (shit), half went down my side of the bed and the other half against the wall and baseboards behind the nightstand.  Back out of bed, I cleaned up my mess.  Then repeat - lay down and try to sleep.  Finally, as I was nearing a good sleep, Joe's alarm went off at 0415.  Then about an hour later he came in to say bye and give me a kiss.  Sometime around 0700 I heard Dex bark in the living room, and then by 0800, I was up to take Lu out on the leash.  I then laid back down for a bit before I had to get up to take her to the vet.  All in all, I got three straight hours of sleep, and the rest was choppy bullshit.  Oh, and I ended up paying over $50 for anti-inflammatories for Lu.  She's not even hardly limping anymore.  I think she could have feigned a continued injury at least until tomorrow.  Gah.

I really don't know what happened the rest of the day.  At some point Joe texted me about us having to go to the FRG meeting tonight after all at 1830, which with a soccer game (the first of the season) at 1930, I was pissed.  He also reminded me that he needed shin guards for the game, which I'd offered to pick up and had forgotten.  So at some point this afternoon, I ran shin guard errands and grocery errands and made it home in time for a small power nap before Joe called at 1635 to tell me he was on his way home.  I shot up and into the kitchen, somehow throwing dinner together, which we ate about 1730 before leaving at 1800 to go to post for the stupid meeting.  We drove half an hour there, spent half an hour going over scheduling bullshit, and then drove another half hour back into town, racing (I drove) to Joe's soccer game.  The game lasted longer than I was told it would (they got smoked by the other time), leaving us to get home about 2115.  Good times. 

One of the chicks on the team let me know that they have games twice a week - on Wednesdays and Sundays, and then I heard the captain tell them that they'd be practicing on Mondays and Thursdays.  I confirmed this with Joe.  So.  That's four nights a week of soccer, though Joe claims he will not be attending all of it.  Still, Joe is already gone (commute + work) a minimum of 11 hours a day, so he's exhausted and never gets enough sleep.  Then there's the fact that I am in my third trimester, growing more tired by the day and need a partner who has some time for me and getting baby shit done (not to mention one who has enough time for himself so he doesn't completely lose his mind).  The crib came today (yay), and it's still laying in the foyer where I dragged it in the front door.  It will stay there until the weekend when Joe has time to help me.  Yeah, there's gonna be a meltdown coming.  This soccer league lasts six weeks, which is half of the rest of the time I'm going to be pregnant (hopefully).  So much for enjoying our last bit of time together pre-baby, as I imagine the last six weeks will be very whale-like and miserable.

To close after all this complaining, let me share this with you:  The other day Joe was mocking me and kinda taunting me, jumping around in quick boxer movements as I tried to find an opening (he was blocking) to whack him.  I had my hand up, ready to strike when (holy shit), I see Dexter to my right vertically sailing through the air.  For that split second he was as tall as me.  Where did he land?  On Joe.  Dex knew who the aggressor was and after landing on him, he promptly bit him in the penis (through his pants - he was clothed).  As Joe said, "he had both beans and the frank in his mouth at the same time."  It lasted only a second and didn't come close to breaking through cloth or skin, but Joe immediately went down.  I laughed so hard that I had to run to the bathroom. It was tremendous.