argh

I guess I can chalk my recent mood up to the pregnancy hormones, or the fact that almost every minute of my life is filled with stress-inducing tasks with the occasional law courtesy of Murphy thrown in.

Sigh.

I’m a little uncomfortable now. Last night the husband and I took Charlie for a walk and as I ambled slowly behind them I reflected on how this appeared to be the first time the pregnancy had an impact on my walking. This made me grumpy. Husband kept looking back at me and giving me the squinty “sorry you are so uncomfortable but we both know there is nothing I can do about it” face. I planted my hands on my lower back and glowered at the ground for the rest of the walk. Before we left for the walk, one of the renovation companies called to say they would be arriving to give us a quote on taping our basement (we put up the drywall but you can forget it if you think we’re doing the taping ourselves) around 6pm. We assumed this would give us ample time to walk Chucky, who had been in the kennel all day save for the 10 minutes I race home during my lunch hour to let him pee. (Luckily this only has to happen 4 days of the month when hubby is on day shift). Suffice it to say, Chucky was a little bit spastic.

We returned from the walk to find the renovation company there early, the guy glaring at us as we walked up to meet him. Chucky, predictably, began to spaz the fuck out, and the next 10 minutes was bedlam as we tried to get him in the house and kenneled so the nice Arabic man could come and save us from our unfinished basement hell.

After the guy left, I attempted to make some fajitas for dinner. I burned my hand twice and when the wraps I was using tore while I tried to put them together, I finally lost it. I think I yelled at the fajitas and, teary-eyed, turned around to my husband to announce to him that “nothing works”. After he calmed me down, we ate our ripped fajitas. Charlie was El Terrible for the rest of the night – eating the curtains, jumping up on the counters, refusing to settle down.

After retiring for the night, I woke up 4 times to pee, stepping on the cat one of those times and waking everyone up. On my last venture back to the bed I managed to get punched in the eye as my husband lifted his arm to allow me to crawl back into the bed. I smashed my head right into his hand. I actually saw sparkles explode out of my eye and fall onto the bed, extinguishing themselves once they hit the sheets. Ouch.

This morning I woke up in a fairly bad mood, chased Chucky around the house while I tried to get ready and husband showered upstairs, managed to knock over a HUGE glass of juice that I had just poured to slake my undying pregnancy thirst, and gave up and let Charlie help me clean up the mess by licking the juice up from the floor.

Note to self: stop buying cheap, non-absorbent brand of paper towels simply because they are cheap.

On the way to work I was cut off by a bald man in a fancy car and suit talking on his cell phone. If he has a blog, he is currently writing about his morning, in which a crazy, pregnant lady in a giant minivan took advantage of the fact that his driver side window was rolled down and screamed at him that he was a “bald-headed retard incapable of multi-taking so he should just hang up his mother fucking cell phone whilst driving”, or something to that effect.

With my blood pressure sufficiently elevated, I made it to my desk in time to get teary eyed from the guilt I felt for having raised my blood pressure and the effect that it must be having on poor Avery.

What could make this day better? How about a trip to the dentist this afternoon so he can figure out why my tooth is still hurting even though he did a root canal on it a few months ago.

Mmm, yes, let’s do that shall we?

26 weeks

Dear Avery,

Something amazing happened this weekend. While your dad and I were drinking coffee and reading the paper on Saturday morning, we saw the right side of my tummy move. Well, actually, I did. Then I pointed it out to your dad, who stared in amazement as you kicked/punched the side of my tummy AND WE COULD SEE IT.

At the beginning of the week, I felt that things were different in there. Your movements seemed less jerky and more controlled. I could also feel you, all of you, slowly roll over from side to side. You are just over a pound and a half according to my books. My tummy is really starting to get big (thank god for yoga pants), and I’m starting to find that getting up out of bed is a little harder than it used to be. Last night I rolled over onto my right side and I could feel where you were lying in my uterus. It was incredible. I love the feeling of the two of us being safe and warm together, snuggled up in bed against daddy.

In food news, I’m finally able to eat Indian food again. Your dad was joking the other day that you must think you’re going to be born in India with all the curry I’ve been eating.

Your grandparents on your dad’s side bought you a cradle (so you can sleep beside daddy and me for the first few months), a stroller, and another car seat! Your other grandmother (my mum) called me on the weekend to let me know she picked up some clothes and wash cloths and things for you too. You are so loved already and it makes me so happy. Everyone is excited about you – it’s all they talk about. You dad and I went to a party on the weekend and our friends are all excited about you too. You’ll be the first baby in the group!

So my sweet girl, keep growing strong and healthy. I can feel you kicking away right now as I write this. Oh, and take it easy on my bladder – maybe start kicking somewhere else for awhile.

Love,

Mum

xoxoxoxoxo

with apologies to my husband

So last night as the husband and I were sitting on the couch feeling Avery pummel my insides, I decided to see what the heck is going on with my belly button.

I must preface this by informing the readers that my husband hates bellybuttons, any bellybutton touching or poking, bellybutton references, the sight of lint in a bellybutton, cleaning out his bellybutton in the shower (luckily he has an outie sort of), any references to bellybuttons and, well, you get the picture.

Many of you fellow preggos and post-preggos are aware that the bellybutton does not remain “pushed in” during pregnancy. Mine is no different. I have such a severe inny though that it’s taking its sweet time getting pushed out. When I stick my finger in there, instead of it going straight in, I have to angle it upwards, and I hit the bottom a lot sooner than I used to be able to, which now that I think of it was never. I have never seen the bottom of my bellybutton.

So anyways. I’m sitting there thinking about how I have never seen the bottom of my bellybutton and start fiddling around with it. I am unaware that my husband is still looking at the bump while I am doing this as I take my two index fingers and press them on either side of my bellybutton. The result of this is something that can only be described as a sort of “bellybutton fountain effect”, with the (as I now know) very deep tunnel part of the bellybutton being forced to the outside of my body.

Still can’t picture it? Alright then. Picture your tummy suddenly growing a little penis.

Better?

That, my friends, is what happened when I pushed on either side of my bellybutton. It was freakish even to me. My husband was so disgusted and shocked that he leapt from the couch, a sort of gurgling scream rising from his throat, as he ran towards the bathroom to throw up. At this point I was laughing so hard that pee was beginning to come out of me, which made me laugh even harder because not only is my bellybutton horrifically deformed – I am also incontinent. What a catch I am!

My husband managed to stop himself from throwing up and came back to the room. We had a brief discussion about what had just occurred (keep in mind that my bellybutton went right back in when I removed my fingers), and I was instructed that we are NEVER TO SPEAK OF IT AGAIN nor am I ever allowed to push on that area of my tummy ever again in front of him.

I can honestly say that he thinks of me differently now. I’m like a freak show to him.

Guess who doesn’t get to go ANYWHERE near my vagina when I’m giving birth? And he thinks the bellybutton is freaky.

25 weeks

Dear Avery,

Last night, your dad and I were sitting on the couch talking about our day and you started kicking up a storm. I took your dad’s hand and put it right where I felt your legs kicking and he finally felt you! It was almost like you knew that daddy had his hand there. I wish you could have seen how much you made him smile. You are growing so fast and getting so big now.

I went to see Dr. B last week and found out that I have gained 3 ½ lbs. I’m pretty sure that most of that is you because my tummy is getting really big. Your heart is strong and healthy, and you still haven’t moved into a head down position, but Dr. B says not to worry, we have lots of time. I’ve registered at the hospital for your birth (I tried to get us a private room but will have to wait and see how busy it is), and I’ll be taking a breastfeeding class and hospital tour soon.

I’m starting to get a little nervous about labour, but I know that you are a strong and healthy baby and I don’t worry about you because I know you will be just fine.

We went to visit your grandparents (on daddy’s side) on the weekend to see your Uncle because it was his birthday. He and your Aunt bought you a very nice little pink sleeper. Your grandparents bought you a playpen, more clothes (I can’t imagine you will even wear all of the stuff you have!), and a cradle and a stroller with a car seat. My dad (your grandfather) has also got some stuff for you but he is going to wait for a bit before he gives it to me. My mum (your grandmother) came over on the weekend too and brought me some beautiful fresh tulips for the house and some cake because I have been eating sweets like crazy since I’ve been pregnant with you.

My books tell me that this week, you can open and close your eyes and respond to light; that the nerves in your hands are fully formed and you are playing with the umbilical cord and sucking your thumb; and that you are starting to fill out and not look so wrinkly. Oh, and you have hair now. You daddy and I always wonder what colour it will be. I’ve been having some really strange dreams these days too. Last night, I dreamt that you were a Koi fish! I was in for an ultrasound and the technician and I watched you swimming around in my uterus. You were red and gold and had big blue eyes. That is probably one of the weirdest dreams I’ve had about you so far. In another dream, you arrived at our house in a package while I was at work and when I got home your dad took me upstairs to meet you. You were packed in newspaper and sleeping in a little box. The one common thing in all of my dreams about you is the love I feel for you already. Even that little Koi fish that was you made me feel such an overwhelming sense of love I cannot even begin to describe it.

As always, keep growing strong and healthy, and we’ll see each other soon.

Love,

Mum

xoxoxoxo

to the obese woman in Sales who asked me if I “should really be drinking pop” at lunch today:

And I suppose you avoided sugar completely when you were pregnant. And I suppose that the rolls of fat around your waist and on your back are from an over-abundance of vegetables and fruits in your diet. I would like you to ask yourself this:

“Should you really be commenting on what I am putting in my body simply because I am pregnant? Does that give you the right to make comments? How about the next time I see you using your fat little sausage fingers to stuff cafeteria french fries into the corpulent mound of flesh that is your face I ask you if that is something someone of your size ‘should really be eating’.”

That bitch is lucky we are at work because if she was some asshole on the street saying that to me she would have a whole world of pain coming at her.

Grrrrrrrrr.

holy crap: 24 weeks pregnant

My tummy magically popped overnight. I came in to work today and everyone is talking about my bump. Now begins the incessant belly-touching. I’ve never been a huggy or touchy-feely person so I’m not thrilled when someone puts their man hands all over the belly and rubs it like a genie is going to come flying out of my ass and grant them a wish. Whatever. I’m sure they can feel me tense up when they do it so maybe they’ll get the hint.

This morning I struggled to put on a pair of my regular pants and confirmed the fact that I cannot even do up the zipper on them so I might as well forget it. I went to Old Navy last night because they have a maternity section. Oh man, those are some of the ugliest clothes I have ever seen! I ended up buying 2 more pairs of black yoga pants and some shirts a size or two bigger than my usual in the regular department and figure I can get by on that. There is no way in hell I am going to spend $60 on a pair of maternity pants that I will only wear a few times. No one at work has noticed that I have been wearing yoga pants anyways.

I still don’t really have any major complaints except that my belly button, which is slowly being forced out of itself, is feeling a little tender. Avery seems to be swimming around happily, using my cervix and bladder as her own personal trampolines. I am happy to report that, like her mummy, she really likes Cadbury Mini Eggs, so we eat those on a fairly regular basis. It makes us both happy.

I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday; just the usual pee in a cup and listen to the baby’s heartbeat appointment. Although I am not looking forward to getting the evil eye if I have not gained an “acceptable” amount of weight yet. Though judging from the belly, I think it is safe to assume that I have put on a few pounds. (Go Avery!)

So that’s it. I’m still fielding idiotic questions from coworkers and putting up with their insensitive comments, but I have stopped caring. As far as I’m concerned, people who spend as much time as they do discussing soap operas and being ‘intrigued’ by the details of the latest Anna Nicole Smith news report don’t really have much going on up in the old brain department anyway. I could roll around in a vat of mud making oinking sounds in front of these people and still not give a shit what they thought.

In other words, fuck it, if Avery’s happy then I’m happy.

International Women's Day

"Violence against women has yet to receive the priority attention and resources needed at all levels to tackle it with the seriousness and visibility necessary."

Secretary-General’s in-depth study on violence against women (2006)

http://www.un.org/events/women/iwd/2007/background.shtml

chucky: portrait of a dog

Is it just my pregnant hormones or is my dog actually becoming a better dog? For a whole week now he has been in minimal spaz mode. In the evenings, he curls up with us on the couch and GOES TO SLEEP! Below I have compared Charlie before and after this miraculous and (fingers crossed) permanent developmental change:

Chucky before (A Typical Day):

6:30am: Wake up and whine until mum and dad get up and let him out of kennel so that he can tear around the house for 20 minutes like his ass is on fire, then harass parents for food.

7:00am: Eat food, drink water, slop water all over floor, go outside and poo.

7:03am: Consume the poo

7:05am: Bark incessantly at nothing and have to be asked to come inside the house 3 times before listening. Come inside house and immediately run for the dining room table where breakfast has been laid out. Jump up on table, straining to get to the food that one of the parents is now holding above his/her head while trying to push him off the table with one leg.

7:06am: Other parent yells at him to get down.

7:08am: Chucky gets down. Proceeds to bark at parents. Parents avoid eye contact with Chucky as this is said by all the training books to escalate the barking.

7:09am: Parents continue to ignore Chucky and avoid eye contact with him. Barking escalates.

7:11am: Chucky is removed from the room and put in his kennel to “calm down”.

7:13am: Chucky calms down for kennel time, parents give up on reading the paper and relaxing after breakfast and start preparing to go to the dog park.

(A short period of time goes by where each of us takes turns peeing and brushing teeth while the other one keeps an eye on Chuck.)

8:00am: Parents put on coats, mitts, boots etc. Charlie jumps up and down and all over parents in what can only be assumed to be an attempt to bite them in the head. This is fun for Charlie.

8:05am: Charlie is leashed and ready to go. He gets loaded into the van in his crate after several attempts to “redirect his head” into the kennel because he refuses to cooperate EVERY SINGLE TIME and just get in the goddamn kennel.

(Car ride: approximately 10 minutes of Charlie whining like we are the worst parents in the world even though be bloody well knows he is going to the dog park, not a puppy mill.)

8:15am: Arrive at dog park. Dad struggles to get the kennel door open and the leash on Chucky to walk him calmly into the park. Chucky explodes out of kennel, finds a giant stick in the parking lot and proceeds to kneecap other dog owners as he runs fill force into the park.

8:15am-9:30am: Chucky runs, plays and manages to strip the entire dog park area clean of sticks. We proceed into the woods for a little hike where he continues to insist on carrying logs (I’m not exaggerating) throughout the entire walk, kneecapping owners and clobbering their dogs in the head as he goes along. (We have recently devised a system of keeping him off the path and away from other living things while he has a stick in his mouth.)

9:30am: Struggle to get Chuck back on the leash and get the log out of his mouth to get him back to the car.

9:35am-11:00am: The period of time that includes the drive home and the nap that Chuck has to take after dog park.

11:00am: Chucky wakes up. Terrorizes parents for the rest of the afternoon until about 3pm when he passes out again.

6:00pm: Eat food, drink water, slop water all over floor, go outside and poo.

6:03pm: Consume the poo.

6:05pm: Bark incessantly at nothing and have to be asked to come inside the house 3 times before listening. Come inside house and immediately run for the dining room table where dinner has been laid out. Jump up on table, straining to get to the food that one of the parents is now holding above his/her head while trying to push him off the table with one leg.

I think you can see where this is going. It ends in us rushing through dinner to take him for a walk. This time around the neighbourhood. When we come home he is even more wound up and we play with him until he finally passes out around 9:00pm.

Charlie Now (What I am hoping will become a typical day):

7:45am: wake up and quietly chew Kong until urge to pee becomes too much and whine softly to be let out of crate.

8:00am: Wait patiently in kitchen for dad to prepare breakfast, all the while wagging tail and allowing mum to “squishy his cute little face” (I love doing that).

8:05am: Dad puts food down and Chucky waits, YES, YOU HEARD ME, waits until he gets the go ahead to eat from dad. Eats, drinks, slops water but mum has learned to put a little carpet under his bowls so no big mess, and then outside to poo, while dad waits with a shovel to clean it up before Charlie can eat it.

The rest of the day is basically Charlie as his usual self at the dog park, then a completely different dog. He naps off and on through the day. Occasionally he wakes up and we play. He cuddles, he wags his tail, he loves. At night he settles down with us and growls at the doggies on America’s Funniest Home Videos, then naps on the couch until we put him to bed.

I have fallen in love with this dog all over again. Please, oh please let this be a permanent thing.

23 weeks

Dear Avery,

Time is flying by for me. I can’t believe that I’m almost 6 months pregnant. I’m still feeling good, other than the occasional bad heartburn, and you are moving around like crazy! You dad still can’t feel you move when he puts his hand on my tummy, and he is always disappointed when he can’t feel your little kicks. We are hoping that he’ll be able to feel you soon. I’ve been out a couple of times to get some clothes for you – just a few little things. Your dad found a little shirt with fire trucks on it and insisted on getting it for you. He also went a little toy-crazy at Ikea the other day for you. He’s getting really excited.

My tummy is sticking out a lot more than before but people tell me I don’t look 6 months pregnant. I guess you’re still tucked away in the back somewhere! Last night I had some bad heartburn and couldn’t fall asleep. I guess you couldn’t either because I could feel you were moving around. So I read us some of Margaret Atwood’s “Cat’s Eye”, my favourite book. This seemed to calm you down a bit.

This week I started getting “Braxton-Hicks” contractions, which is normal for this time. We were out for a hike with Charlie and it felt like my whole tummy kept hardening up and then going soft again. It was very strange.

Your dad and I went to visit your great-grandmother yesterday. She has knitted you the most beautiful sweater with a matching hat and booties. I think I will bring you home from the hospital in this outfit, I know if would mean a lot to nana. She has been very sad since papa died last summer. I’m sorry that you won’t get to meet him, he was a wonderful man. If you were a boy, I was going to give you his first name, Kenneth, as your middle name. Instead you are getting all original names! Well, except for the last name.

Well my sweet girl, you are doing so well and getting so big and I couldn’t be happier. I peek into the nursery every morning and look at all the things you have so far and it makes me smile. I think this is the happiest I have ever been.

Keep growing strong.

Love,

Mum

xoxoxoxo