I do not claim to be a "lactivist" by any definition of the word. I do not want to be critical of how any mother plans to feed their child. But, I have to say this.
*Stands on soapbox*
I know that some women do not want to be bothered with the demand/ stress/ some times painful process of breastfeeding. Honestly, I could give two shits if you want to give your child artificial milk, pumped breast milk, or milk "straight from the tap". Breast is best. *Added: If you are doing meth, maybe you shouldn't breastfeed.* It's proven. However, I know that it's not for everyone. Again...I don't care what you do with your child.
For me, I prefer to give my son the "boobie milk". And no, I don't want to be bothered with bottles. I'm lazy. Who wants to get a clean bottle, make sure the formula is mixed properly, warm (but not too warm) and then clean a bottle once baby is done? Pshhh In the middle of the night all I have to do is pull out my breast and stick it in his mouth. That's ultimate convince.
I didn't always feel this way. I was brought up that babies get bottles...and that breasts were for sex. As a mother, I see things completely different. However, I am still amazed at some people's ignorance on breastfeeding. Now, I am not an expert by any means. Yes, I've only been breastfeeding for 75 days but that's still longer than some women. (Again, I'm not trying to dismiss any women's choice on how they feed their children.)
The other day I was at the local flea market and we stopped for milkshakes. The stand is run by a woman and her daughter usually is there also. The woman (who we saw very often while I was pregnant) asked if she could hold the baby. I didn't mind. Her granddaughter (6) came up and asked "Nana, are you keeping that baby?" To which she replied "No honey, I don't have any formula." Her daughter then wrinkled her nose (as did I) as her granddaughter asked "What's that?" I won't lie, it made me feel good. That question should be asked more often. Later on in the day though, I got looks when I openly nursed Jaden. I try to be modest. I go into the bathroom to latch him on. And I try to keep a blanket over my bare breast. It doesn't always work, since little man loathes a cover. (Who can blame him? I wouldn't want a blanket over my head/ food while I ate.) I still get looks. I still see the thought pop into people's heads "What is she doing?"
Even tonight: We were out to dinner with Greg's family. Jaden was SO good though the whole meal until close to the end. He was hungry. I went to the bathroom, latched him on and came back out. His Aunt Rachael questioned if I should just feed him in the bathroom since there was a lot of teenage boys in the restaurant. I simply said "Nope. I'm not ashamed of what I'm doing." And I'm not. Nothing was showing. I practically had my head under the blanket too so Jaden wouldn't pull the blanket off. Once he fell asleep, I unlatched him and held him. (He ate for a total of 5 minutes.) And all without showing a hint of nipple.
This makes me mad. I'm sorry but if it was a bottle I wouldn't be stared at. But since I have a child basically attached to me, I'm doing something "dirty." I don't sit with my boob out; nor do I try to bring extra attention to myself and what I'm doing. No, I don't think that there are "perverts" out there who are watching me nursing my son and getting sick ideas in their head. Because if I did, that just further fuels the misconception that what I'm doing is a "sexual" act.
*Jumps off soapbox*
Maybe, I'm a lactivist after all.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Showing posts with label Rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rant. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Insomniac Edition
**I am writing this on a little more than an hour of sleep so if some of my upcoming story doesn't make sense. I will try to explain everything, but since I'm tired I might just edit this in the morning.**
I don't really know where to start because this story has multiple beginnings. Throughout my entire pregnancy I realized just how much of a role reversal I've had with my mother. Yes, she has been going through a lot of personal things (a divorce, finding her middle child's father, becoming a grandparent) but that doesn't give her the right to start acting like a child. I applaud her in the ways that she is becoming more independent. However, I disapprove in her behavior. It's the same sort of behavior that she went through when she was going through the divorce with my dad: jumping from man to man, not listening to other people and just be overall defensive. She has yet to realize that I've seen this all before and this time I'm letting her know.
I'm not saying she's a bad person, or a bad mother. She is far from that. What she doesn't see is what she's actually doing. She's pushing people (me included) away for reasons that are not entirely known to me. All while thinking that things should be at an all time closeness. I agree, every woman wants her mother to be around when she is expecting but there are limits. In no way should the mother of the mother-to-be outrank the father-to-be.
I know that she is excited for her grandson. But that doesn't excuse her behavior. It doesn't exclude all of the things she has said about Greg. It doesn't make light of what she think she's entitled to. As of this moment Greg and I don't want her in the room when I deliver. I have no idea how to tell her that because of her actions, she's going to miss out. I'm sure that will go over so well. Hell, if Greg had it his way she wouldn't even know when we have Boo until hours after; that she's been booted from top of the list all the way down to the bottom.
While I feel that is harsh, I'm not sure I oppose anymore. She crossed a line tonight when all I was doing was speaking my mind. I realize that I can come across a little...rough around the edges...but at the same time I wasn't calling her names. She's in a situation that sounds very high school to me, and I told her not to get involved. Apparently she didn't like what I had to say. I, of course, am "a bitch since *I've* been pregnant". I told her "Okay, bye, love you". That's when she hung up. Twenty minutes later I get a text saying "I'm sorry."
Sorry just doesn't cut it anymore. If she doesn't want my opinions, fine. I don't want to be involved in her "drama" anyway. The other person got exactly what they wanted...a rise out of her. The only other time I've seen this happen is with little immature people. I was just surprised to see my 45 year old mother actually getting involved.
Maybe things will be better in the morning light. Maybe when I'm not so tired I'll be able to think straight. But the thing is, I cannot sleep because I know that things will never get better. That ever since she "got her wings and is staying away from controlling men" that she has almost completely severed all ties of our relationship.
I guess that's what happens when you get older. You realize that your parents aren't perfect. That the pedestal that you once placed them upon is severely tarnished and scuffed. I just pray that somehow we make it through this hard time. I doubt it though.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
I don't really know where to start because this story has multiple beginnings. Throughout my entire pregnancy I realized just how much of a role reversal I've had with my mother. Yes, she has been going through a lot of personal things (a divorce, finding her middle child's father, becoming a grandparent) but that doesn't give her the right to start acting like a child. I applaud her in the ways that she is becoming more independent. However, I disapprove in her behavior. It's the same sort of behavior that she went through when she was going through the divorce with my dad: jumping from man to man, not listening to other people and just be overall defensive. She has yet to realize that I've seen this all before and this time I'm letting her know.
I'm not saying she's a bad person, or a bad mother. She is far from that. What she doesn't see is what she's actually doing. She's pushing people (me included) away for reasons that are not entirely known to me. All while thinking that things should be at an all time closeness. I agree, every woman wants her mother to be around when she is expecting but there are limits. In no way should the mother of the mother-to-be outrank the father-to-be.
I know that she is excited for her grandson. But that doesn't excuse her behavior. It doesn't exclude all of the things she has said about Greg. It doesn't make light of what she think she's entitled to. As of this moment Greg and I don't want her in the room when I deliver. I have no idea how to tell her that because of her actions, she's going to miss out. I'm sure that will go over so well. Hell, if Greg had it his way she wouldn't even know when we have Boo until hours after; that she's been booted from top of the list all the way down to the bottom.
While I feel that is harsh, I'm not sure I oppose anymore. She crossed a line tonight when all I was doing was speaking my mind. I realize that I can come across a little...rough around the edges...but at the same time I wasn't calling her names. She's in a situation that sounds very high school to me, and I told her not to get involved. Apparently she didn't like what I had to say. I, of course, am "a bitch since *I've* been pregnant". I told her "Okay, bye, love you". That's when she hung up. Twenty minutes later I get a text saying "I'm sorry."
Sorry just doesn't cut it anymore. If she doesn't want my opinions, fine. I don't want to be involved in her "drama" anyway. The other person got exactly what they wanted...a rise out of her. The only other time I've seen this happen is with little immature people. I was just surprised to see my 45 year old mother actually getting involved.
Maybe things will be better in the morning light. Maybe when I'm not so tired I'll be able to think straight. But the thing is, I cannot sleep because I know that things will never get better. That ever since she "got her wings and is staying away from controlling men" that she has almost completely severed all ties of our relationship.
I guess that's what happens when you get older. You realize that your parents aren't perfect. That the pedestal that you once placed them upon is severely tarnished and scuffed. I just pray that somehow we make it through this hard time. I doubt it though.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Monday, August 16, 2010
I think I should just turn off the phone.
I know these calls are only going to increase in numbers by the time I have Boo. Everyone knows what call I'm talking about...the "Is he here yet?!?" call. Not only do I get those calls, but I also get the texts too. I get people who I really have no desire to talk to, texting me, asking me. And then of course I have to make idle chit chat with this person because I don't just want to completely dismiss them. However, I'm getting kind of tired (and I'll admit, a tad depressed) saying "Nope, he's not here yet."
I realize that people don't want to be left out when I actually do have him. But realize that if you do have some sort of importance in my life, you will know. Best believe as soon as I go into labor I'm going to be posting on Facebook. And if that's not enough...there will be a mass text when he's finally here. I don't see a need in telling people who I barely talk to about every detail of my delivery. And I'm pretty sure Greg is going to hijack my phone while I'm in L&D so I can't be on cafemom and facebook every 30 seconds.
Our hospital guest list is rising to dangerous levels. There will probably be 4 people in that room from the time he's here until he goes home. I'm pretty much okay with that...considering it shows how loved he is already. However, I'm going to become a serious recluse once he's home. My dad on Saturday was telling me how he wants to see the baby within the first month he's born. So sorry, I'm not planning on coming up there until at least October...maybe even Thanksgiving. And that will be a very long weekend. We have a lot of people to see. :)
I'm starting to realize that maybe my mom shouldn't be in the delivery room when I'm actually pushing. I love her so much but I'm pretty sure she's going to try to take control. The last thing I want to do is kick her out, but I'm probably going to have to do so. It might be her grandchild, but it's my child. I don't think she realizes that I need to do this my way. No matter how she feels about it. I'll hope and pray that she relaxes a little...but I swear, if she continues to talk about how I'm having a 12 pound baby or how much the baby wants to meet his MomMom...I'll snap. (She also uses a name that we might be picking...which I FRIGGEN HATE. It's not for her to announce my son's name. That's for me and Greg to do.) Trust me, the baby wants to meet his Mommy and Daddy more than that crazy lady who gave his mom life.
I know people are just acting crazy because they're ready to meet him. There is nothing more than I want right now than to hold my child. I'm probably the craziest one out of everyone. However, I feel like I am allowed to act a little nuts. Everyone else though, needs to be institutionalized. And the comments about how big I am isn't helping. Yes...I am very pregnant. There is no sane reason to point that out on a daily basis.
I'm done with my rant.
On Saturday my dad, stepmom, stepbrother, his wife and their two kids come down for a visit/ to drop off a dresser. I was very grateful that I finally got the dresser. However, I wasn't impressed that 3 of the 5 drawers are broken and I can't use them until Greg gets wood glue for it. Nor, was I impressed that I the rest of the stuff I had at my Dad's came as well. Mainly because I didn't want it. It was all junk. The last time I was there to pick up some of the stuff I told my Dad to throw it all away. I even offered to bag it up, and he told me not to, that he'll do it. HA! Nope, I bagged it up HERE and it promptly went in the trash can.
...'Cause you know...he didn't want to go through my stuff. Even though all the items were in a different dresser...so he would have to go through it anyway.
*SCREAMS, bangs head against the wall*
But it's okay. I'm not going to let that get to me. I have the dresser now. And I can start on getting Boo's room COMPLETELY done. Which has to wait until Saturday now. We still don't have the glider. And if my lovable, completely idiotic fiancee doesn't stop spending money we don't have, I might never get it. (This might just be a hormone surge...but seriously...it's annoying.)
Well...I'm officially in a bad mood (HAHA...gotta love pregnancy.) So on that note...
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
I realize that people don't want to be left out when I actually do have him. But realize that if you do have some sort of importance in my life, you will know. Best believe as soon as I go into labor I'm going to be posting on Facebook. And if that's not enough...there will be a mass text when he's finally here. I don't see a need in telling people who I barely talk to about every detail of my delivery. And I'm pretty sure Greg is going to hijack my phone while I'm in L&D so I can't be on cafemom and facebook every 30 seconds.
Our hospital guest list is rising to dangerous levels. There will probably be 4 people in that room from the time he's here until he goes home. I'm pretty much okay with that...considering it shows how loved he is already. However, I'm going to become a serious recluse once he's home. My dad on Saturday was telling me how he wants to see the baby within the first month he's born. So sorry, I'm not planning on coming up there until at least October...maybe even Thanksgiving. And that will be a very long weekend. We have a lot of people to see. :)
I'm starting to realize that maybe my mom shouldn't be in the delivery room when I'm actually pushing. I love her so much but I'm pretty sure she's going to try to take control. The last thing I want to do is kick her out, but I'm probably going to have to do so. It might be her grandchild, but it's my child. I don't think she realizes that I need to do this my way. No matter how she feels about it. I'll hope and pray that she relaxes a little...but I swear, if she continues to talk about how I'm having a 12 pound baby or how much the baby wants to meet his MomMom...I'll snap. (She also uses a name that we might be picking...which I FRIGGEN HATE. It's not for her to announce my son's name. That's for me and Greg to do.) Trust me, the baby wants to meet his Mommy and Daddy more than that crazy lady who gave his mom life.
I know people are just acting crazy because they're ready to meet him. There is nothing more than I want right now than to hold my child. I'm probably the craziest one out of everyone. However, I feel like I am allowed to act a little nuts. Everyone else though, needs to be institutionalized. And the comments about how big I am isn't helping. Yes...I am very pregnant. There is no sane reason to point that out on a daily basis.
I'm done with my rant.
On Saturday my dad, stepmom, stepbrother, his wife and their two kids come down for a visit/ to drop off a dresser. I was very grateful that I finally got the dresser. However, I wasn't impressed that 3 of the 5 drawers are broken and I can't use them until Greg gets wood glue for it. Nor, was I impressed that I the rest of the stuff I had at my Dad's came as well. Mainly because I didn't want it. It was all junk. The last time I was there to pick up some of the stuff I told my Dad to throw it all away. I even offered to bag it up, and he told me not to, that he'll do it. HA! Nope, I bagged it up HERE and it promptly went in the trash can.
...'Cause you know...he didn't want to go through my stuff. Even though all the items were in a different dresser...so he would have to go through it anyway.
*SCREAMS, bangs head against the wall*
But it's okay. I'm not going to let that get to me. I have the dresser now. And I can start on getting Boo's room COMPLETELY done. Which has to wait until Saturday now. We still don't have the glider. And if my lovable, completely idiotic fiancee doesn't stop spending money we don't have, I might never get it. (This might just be a hormone surge...but seriously...it's annoying.)
Well...I'm officially in a bad mood (HAHA...gotta love pregnancy.) So on that note...
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Monday, August 9, 2010
I lied.
I thought I wanted this bun to stay in the oven. I thought I didn't want to go into labor until my due date. I made myself believe that they were indeed correct about my due date after fighting for months saying it wasn't. Turns out, I was wrong.
I want this baby out. NOW. I have no idea if he dropped or not, but I'm thinking he did. I thought I was uncomfortable before...HA! Oh man...I hurt in my everywhere. And not to mention I've been having some serious braxton hicks contractions. Everything just hurts. I'm exhausted. And I have a ton of energy. (Oxy moron much?) I can't stop peeing. And my mouth is so dry I can't drink enough water. (Maybe that's why you have to sprint to the bathroom every 15 minutes...dummy.) I've been crying, yelling and laughing for no reason. Even the most harmless comment bruises my ego. But I can dish out the insults like no one's business. Patience has eluded me. I go from pleasantly full to starving in 5 minutes. My clothing no longer fits. (And what does fit makes me look like I'm having friggen triples as numerous people have pointed out.)
The only plus side to all of this is I can *finally* go to the bathroom...sorry for the TMI.
Basically...I loved being pregnant, but I think it's time to think about an eviction notice.
Since I'm now 37 weeks...I'm considered full term. Which means:
* 21 days until my due date
* I could go at anytime now
* He's almost here!
I seriously cannot wait for my appointment tomorrow. I'm thinking that if my fundal height is still way big that they will order an ultrasound just to see how big he is. (Hey, I'm up for another "peek" at him...I haven't "seen" him since 19 weeks 5 days.) Although the ultrasound could go either way. It could be "oh, he's fine" or "It looks like we're going to have to induce." Honestly, at this point, I just want to meet him. This week doesn't work for me, but next week...for sure he can come. :D
His bag is almost packed and I'm going to get mine done this week. And I have to get a list together of everyone who is planning on coming to the hospital. So far, I'm pretty sure there's a waiting list for passes...but if the head honcho (A.k.a. the one who is pushing a watermelon sized baby out of a hole the size of a lemon.) likes you...you get special treatment. :D I understand that people don't want to see me while I'm cursing and possibly loopy from the pain medication, but it may not be possible for everyone to see Boo once he's here.
Jus' sayin'.
Luckily I talked to my mom about her being in the room. I told her I have no problem with it, as long as she doesn't get in the way. That the person who is coaching me is Greg. And at anytime I can ask her to leave. Surprisingly, she wasn't acting crazy and agreed. Even more shocking is that she agreed that the kids will not be in there while I'm pushing. The last thing I need is to hear my sister say "I'm bored" while I'm pushing. It would be no bueno.
Now if only she will give me a straight flipping answer if she's coming this weekend. "I don't want to step on your toes...I know Jenn said she might be visiting you." Ummm yea...but not that day. I just need to know if you're coming or not so I can prepare Greg. He's had enough of your crazy...and I don't blame him for wanting to scream out whenver you call. OR if she would kindly stop saying to every Tom, Dick and Harry that I'm practically in stir-ups already. OR that I'm having a 20lb baby. I know I'm fat...and I gained a good bit of weight...but that doesn't give anyone the right to say that I'm going to have that *big* of a baby. That just makes me want to curse you out.
See what I mean about being hormonal?
Anyway, Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
I want this baby out. NOW. I have no idea if he dropped or not, but I'm thinking he did. I thought I was uncomfortable before...HA! Oh man...I hurt in my everywhere. And not to mention I've been having some serious braxton hicks contractions. Everything just hurts. I'm exhausted. And I have a ton of energy. (Oxy moron much?) I can't stop peeing. And my mouth is so dry I can't drink enough water. (Maybe that's why you have to sprint to the bathroom every 15 minutes...dummy.) I've been crying, yelling and laughing for no reason. Even the most harmless comment bruises my ego. But I can dish out the insults like no one's business. Patience has eluded me. I go from pleasantly full to starving in 5 minutes. My clothing no longer fits. (And what does fit makes me look like I'm having friggen triples as numerous people have pointed out.)
The only plus side to all of this is I can *finally* go to the bathroom...sorry for the TMI.
Basically...I loved being pregnant, but I think it's time to think about an eviction notice.
Since I'm now 37 weeks...I'm considered full term. Which means:
* 21 days until my due date
* I could go at anytime now
* He's almost here!
I seriously cannot wait for my appointment tomorrow. I'm thinking that if my fundal height is still way big that they will order an ultrasound just to see how big he is. (Hey, I'm up for another "peek" at him...I haven't "seen" him since 19 weeks 5 days.) Although the ultrasound could go either way. It could be "oh, he's fine" or "It looks like we're going to have to induce." Honestly, at this point, I just want to meet him. This week doesn't work for me, but next week...for sure he can come. :D
His bag is almost packed and I'm going to get mine done this week. And I have to get a list together of everyone who is planning on coming to the hospital. So far, I'm pretty sure there's a waiting list for passes...but if the head honcho (A.k.a. the one who is pushing a watermelon sized baby out of a hole the size of a lemon.) likes you...you get special treatment. :D I understand that people don't want to see me while I'm cursing and possibly loopy from the pain medication, but it may not be possible for everyone to see Boo once he's here.
Jus' sayin'.
Luckily I talked to my mom about her being in the room. I told her I have no problem with it, as long as she doesn't get in the way. That the person who is coaching me is Greg. And at anytime I can ask her to leave. Surprisingly, she wasn't acting crazy and agreed. Even more shocking is that she agreed that the kids will not be in there while I'm pushing. The last thing I need is to hear my sister say "I'm bored" while I'm pushing. It would be no bueno.
Now if only she will give me a straight flipping answer if she's coming this weekend. "I don't want to step on your toes...I know Jenn said she might be visiting you." Ummm yea...but not that day. I just need to know if you're coming or not so I can prepare Greg. He's had enough of your crazy...and I don't blame him for wanting to scream out whenver you call. OR if she would kindly stop saying to every Tom, Dick and Harry that I'm practically in stir-ups already. OR that I'm having a 20lb baby. I know I'm fat...and I gained a good bit of weight...but that doesn't give anyone the right to say that I'm going to have that *big* of a baby. That just makes me want to curse you out.
See what I mean about being hormonal?
Anyway, Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Monday, August 2, 2010
God, I hate nesting...
So, I've been feeling the "itch" to clean for a few weeks now. It was kind of gradual. I didn't want to overwhelm myself. Well it was kicked into full gear this weekend. I wanted everything done in two seconds. What made it worse is that I was so extremely exhausted, I didn't want to do anything! I wanted Greg to do all the cleaning. Which worked so well. I basically broke my back trying to get things done and I had to listen to Greg complain that I was overworking him.
...I really didn't care...
There are things that I'm not "allowed" to do (I.e.: Use the drill to secure the top to the changing table, move the crib to vacuum, vacuum, take the mirror off the wall so I can wash that wall, fix the window trimming, move the changing table, take the laundry downstairs...) that he had to do. But yet, he didn't want to do any of these things on his days off. Too damn bad...it needs done. And I know that the baby won't be very mobile the first few weeks of his life, but when he comes home I want him to be in a clean and organized environment. I don't care if it takes me until he comes, I want both of our rooms spotless.
With that being said: we *finally* got the baby mattress! AND we got his laundry detergent. So what does that mean? That's right, we did 5 loads of baby laundry this weekend. I still have to fold up his sheets. And I'm also probably going to refold everything that I folded already. My original plan didn't work so well, so it's looking like I need to redo it all. It just looks sloppy. And I'm on a perfectionist kick.
Not to mention I have a TON of baby clothing. It seriously is looking like I won't need to buy any clothing until he's in 12month. Plus I seriously have over 50 pairs of baby socks. LOL that just blows my mind. I thought I had a lot of socks...this kid's got me beat. I also ran out of space to put all his clothing. I finally got a hold of my father and I'll be getting my dresser in two weekends. (Which I will talk about a little later on why that is a HUGE pet peeve.)
I just want to set up his little crib already...cause I'm hoping in 28 days he'll be in it. :)
Alright...my dad. *Grumbles* The past few weeks he has been hard to get ahold of. His wife had to have a lung biopsy (it was negative...thank God) and I can understand him being busy. Well. I've been leaving him texts and calls to call me back when he can. I finally got a hold of him on Saturday. I was trying to be pleasant with him even though I was in a grumpy mood, but he was making it really difficult. Whatever, he has a lot on his plate right now. I get it. Well he was supposed to buy us a dresser/changing table combo...and I took his budget into consideration. I didn't choose something super expensive. Nor did I pick a super cheap thing either. I picked something that I would get good use out of. I was informed yesterday that I won't be getting this piece of furniture. Instead I'll be getting my old dresser from when I lived there. Not a big deal. Although I will admit I was a little peeved. I told him that was fine, but what he said next FLOORED me. "Well I have this big bike trip coming up (he's going to Milwaukee for bike week.) and since you don't call me or bother to visit me or anything I don't feel like I need to spend money on this baby."
UMKAY! I didn't tell you that you *needed* to spend money on this baby. But I let it slide. Even though he spent nearly $500 on ALL THREE of his step-grandkids. Next he said that he can't get it to me because of the bike trip. Again, no big deal. I was trying to be nice. Even though I was really pissed at this point. Next he said...well since you don't have a changing table...what are you going to do? Well, we technically do have one, I just didn't want to use it as a changing table. But I'll figure something out. I was feeling myself become grumpier and grumpier but I didn't want to let on. There is no reason for him to have the satisfaction that he made me mad. I almost held it in until he said this precious gem: "Don't forget to call your poor old dad when you go into labor. I'll have to visit. As long as it's not next week when I'm gone. I probably won't pick up if you call when I'm at bike week. If you go into labor I'm still going...so hold in that sucker until after."
...Why does my parents think that I can just "hold him in" or know when he's going to come? Seriously...they've been through this before. They should know that I have NO control over when he's coming.
Out of spite, I want to drop this baby out on Wednesday when he leaves. Don't piss off a pregnant woman.
Sorry if that vent sounded like I'm acting spoiled but it's really aggravating. I know that I wanted second hand stuff. However, I'm kind of sick and tired of my family "promising" us things that they end up going back on. My dad with the dresser, (that I could have had when we went up last time, MONTHS ago.) my mom with the bedding and my Gram with the mattress. In all these cases it would have been easier for us to just go out and get the stuff instead of waiting around for them. It's annoying. And I'm sure that my hormones aren't making it any easier on me.
Now...for the pregnancy stuff. (LOL sorry for the long post)
The past few days I've been feeling crampy. I feel like my period is coming. Like, it's right there. Apparently that's normal...when you start going into labor. However, there is this little thing called "false labor" and I'm pretty sure that's what I'm dealing with. I don't want to get too worked up about anything right now. I have an appointment with my OB tomorrow. Hopefully things are going well and he's going to stay in there a little longer.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
...I really didn't care...
There are things that I'm not "allowed" to do (I.e.: Use the drill to secure the top to the changing table, move the crib to vacuum, vacuum, take the mirror off the wall so I can wash that wall, fix the window trimming, move the changing table, take the laundry downstairs...) that he had to do. But yet, he didn't want to do any of these things on his days off. Too damn bad...it needs done. And I know that the baby won't be very mobile the first few weeks of his life, but when he comes home I want him to be in a clean and organized environment. I don't care if it takes me until he comes, I want both of our rooms spotless.
With that being said: we *finally* got the baby mattress! AND we got his laundry detergent. So what does that mean? That's right, we did 5 loads of baby laundry this weekend. I still have to fold up his sheets. And I'm also probably going to refold everything that I folded already. My original plan didn't work so well, so it's looking like I need to redo it all. It just looks sloppy. And I'm on a perfectionist kick.
Not to mention I have a TON of baby clothing. It seriously is looking like I won't need to buy any clothing until he's in 12month. Plus I seriously have over 50 pairs of baby socks. LOL that just blows my mind. I thought I had a lot of socks...this kid's got me beat. I also ran out of space to put all his clothing. I finally got a hold of my father and I'll be getting my dresser in two weekends. (Which I will talk about a little later on why that is a HUGE pet peeve.)
I just want to set up his little crib already...cause I'm hoping in 28 days he'll be in it. :)
Alright...my dad. *Grumbles* The past few weeks he has been hard to get ahold of. His wife had to have a lung biopsy (it was negative...thank God) and I can understand him being busy. Well. I've been leaving him texts and calls to call me back when he can. I finally got a hold of him on Saturday. I was trying to be pleasant with him even though I was in a grumpy mood, but he was making it really difficult. Whatever, he has a lot on his plate right now. I get it. Well he was supposed to buy us a dresser/changing table combo...and I took his budget into consideration. I didn't choose something super expensive. Nor did I pick a super cheap thing either. I picked something that I would get good use out of. I was informed yesterday that I won't be getting this piece of furniture. Instead I'll be getting my old dresser from when I lived there. Not a big deal. Although I will admit I was a little peeved. I told him that was fine, but what he said next FLOORED me. "Well I have this big bike trip coming up (he's going to Milwaukee for bike week.) and since you don't call me or bother to visit me or anything I don't feel like I need to spend money on this baby."
UMKAY! I didn't tell you that you *needed* to spend money on this baby. But I let it slide. Even though he spent nearly $500 on ALL THREE of his step-grandkids. Next he said that he can't get it to me because of the bike trip. Again, no big deal. I was trying to be nice. Even though I was really pissed at this point. Next he said...well since you don't have a changing table...what are you going to do? Well, we technically do have one, I just didn't want to use it as a changing table. But I'll figure something out. I was feeling myself become grumpier and grumpier but I didn't want to let on. There is no reason for him to have the satisfaction that he made me mad. I almost held it in until he said this precious gem: "Don't forget to call your poor old dad when you go into labor. I'll have to visit. As long as it's not next week when I'm gone. I probably won't pick up if you call when I'm at bike week. If you go into labor I'm still going...so hold in that sucker until after."
...Why does my parents think that I can just "hold him in" or know when he's going to come? Seriously...they've been through this before. They should know that I have NO control over when he's coming.
Out of spite, I want to drop this baby out on Wednesday when he leaves. Don't piss off a pregnant woman.
Sorry if that vent sounded like I'm acting spoiled but it's really aggravating. I know that I wanted second hand stuff. However, I'm kind of sick and tired of my family "promising" us things that they end up going back on. My dad with the dresser, (that I could have had when we went up last time, MONTHS ago.) my mom with the bedding and my Gram with the mattress. In all these cases it would have been easier for us to just go out and get the stuff instead of waiting around for them. It's annoying. And I'm sure that my hormones aren't making it any easier on me.
Now...for the pregnancy stuff. (LOL sorry for the long post)
The past few days I've been feeling crampy. I feel like my period is coming. Like, it's right there. Apparently that's normal...when you start going into labor. However, there is this little thing called "false labor" and I'm pretty sure that's what I'm dealing with. I don't want to get too worked up about anything right now. I have an appointment with my OB tomorrow. Hopefully things are going well and he's going to stay in there a little longer.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
So Sleepy.
With the arrival of glorious rain (it's been a while since we got a good soaking) there has been some issues happening. One issue is the ceiling in our bathroom is leaking. This was "fixed" last summer. In fact, the two men who "fixed" this problem spent 2 months installing a window. There were 3 problems that needed fixed last summer: replace a window, fix the ceiling, and cut down a mulberry tree. Well, we still have mulberries all over...AND we have a leaking ceiling. PLUS whenever there's a lot of wind, you can hear a "whistle" coming through the window. So really, we're back at square one. To top it off, Greg's dad doesn't want to call the landlord just yet because we don't have the repairs done yet. (As apart of the rent agreement every year we have to do some things around the house to make sure it passes inspection. The inspection is due in January but we have to have the stuff done...NOW so he knows it's done.)
Not to mention that everyone else (except for Greg's mom...who doesn't use the bathroom...she uses a portable toilet since she can't walk up the steps) can literally do their "business" in the shower. Me, however, cannot pee standing up. (The leak is over the toilet) So I have to quickly pee or I'll be soaked.
This doesn't make the preggo happy. Not. Happy. At. All.
Again with the rain, or maybe just pregnant-ness, I have been tired ALL the time. This would be great, if I could sleep. With waking up litterly every hour to pee, and sometimes not being able to fall back asleep is killing me. I know it's going to get worse once Boo is here. I just hope that I get some sleep soon. (While I'm writing this, I can't stop yawning....oy.)
Of course my teeth issues aren't helping me get quality rest. I haven't been to a dentist in about 6 years. (Very bad, I know) I finally made an appointment, and I'm nervous. I've been dealing with this pain for such a long time though, it needs to get fixed. Apart of me hopes they just yank the one tooth out since it's a wisdom tooth...but I doubt it. After the baby comes out I got to get my wisdom teeth out. :( Not looking forward to it at all.
Boo has been EXTREMELY active lately. Literally, it feels like he's going to kick his way out. One minute he'll have hiccups, next minute he's kicking my ribs. It's pretty cool though. I've started taking videos of him going nuts in there.
'Cause ya know...he's just itching to get out. :)
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Not to mention that everyone else (except for Greg's mom...who doesn't use the bathroom...she uses a portable toilet since she can't walk up the steps) can literally do their "business" in the shower. Me, however, cannot pee standing up. (The leak is over the toilet) So I have to quickly pee or I'll be soaked.
This doesn't make the preggo happy. Not. Happy. At. All.
Again with the rain, or maybe just pregnant-ness, I have been tired ALL the time. This would be great, if I could sleep. With waking up litterly every hour to pee, and sometimes not being able to fall back asleep is killing me. I know it's going to get worse once Boo is here. I just hope that I get some sleep soon. (While I'm writing this, I can't stop yawning....oy.)
Of course my teeth issues aren't helping me get quality rest. I haven't been to a dentist in about 6 years. (Very bad, I know) I finally made an appointment, and I'm nervous. I've been dealing with this pain for such a long time though, it needs to get fixed. Apart of me hopes they just yank the one tooth out since it's a wisdom tooth...but I doubt it. After the baby comes out I got to get my wisdom teeth out. :( Not looking forward to it at all.
Boo has been EXTREMELY active lately. Literally, it feels like he's going to kick his way out. One minute he'll have hiccups, next minute he's kicking my ribs. It's pretty cool though. I've started taking videos of him going nuts in there.
'Cause ya know...he's just itching to get out. :)
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Grow up. *rant* `
Well. As some of you may or may not know, Greg's older brother-Billy- was released from jail on Monday. And although it's a very jouous occassion, it seems like all the boys in Greg's family has reverted to age 2. And unfortunately, Greg isn't immune to this growing epidemic. It's a problem, but I know it's going to eventually going to calm down. (At least, that's what I tell myself.) I realize that everyone is just happy that he is out and that as long as he doesn't mess up in the next five years, he'll have a clean record. However, I'm not enjoying all of this childish behavior.
Last night, I almost came to blows with Greg's other brother (and perhaps the biggest child of them all) Shawn. He always has something smart to say. I wasn't in the best of moods yesterday and he just pushed all my buttons. Greg actually had to get in between us at the resturant (last night was wing night). I wasn't happy with his stupid little comments or the fact that he acts like such a child. Of course, all the "boys" fed off of his immature behavior.
By the end of the night (when we got home) everyone (including Kevin and Josh-Greg's nephews) were covered in flour. And although Greg didn't start it, he didn't stay out of it either. Ughhhhhhhhh. I really wish that I didn't have to babysit my 29 year old fiancee.
Not only is Greg's family getting on my nerves...but also my family too. Apparently last week my mom and my grandpa got into it over a real non-exsistant issue. They aren't talking, and I'm sorry...it shouldn't have gotten to the point where it was. I'm sure no one is innocent in the whole matter. It all seems so silly.
Before Shawn and I got into our little spat, I recieve a call from my grandma. She told me that she didn't get me a mattress. Which, shouldn't be such a big deal. She went on to tell me that she got me something that I would get more use out of. I told her not to tell me, because I still want to be mostly suprised with my gifts at the shower. Through my entire meal I tried to figure out what she could have gotten me. After dinner, my mom calls and informs me that she got me a pack-n-play. *Sigh*. I already have THREE pack-n-plays. I'm very grateful that she got me something very nice. Although, at the same time I'm saying to myself: "She already knew I had one. And now I'm going to have to buy a mattress." (An expense that could have been avoided a long time ago. When they were on sale. A week after she promised to get us one.)
Maybe I'm just being overly dramatic. Maybe my hormones are getting to me. Maybe I should just let it go. And Lord knows I'm trying not to get all "uppity" lately. Just seems like things aren't going as smoothly as it once seemed like it was.
I just cannot fathom that time is going so fast. My shower is less than two weeks away. My due date is 75 days away. And although August 30th seems like a lifetime away...it's coming up quick! (Side note rant...my mother had the gull to tell me that I should either go early or have Boo on the weekend because if not, the kids will be in school. Well Golly Gee...if I go into labor on a Wednesday I guess I'll keep my legs closed. Sorry, but she's had three kids, she knows that you cannot calculate when the baby comes.)
*Ahem.* I guess I should just let things go. Maybe I'm more of a control freak than what I thought I was.
Here's a few pictures from the past few weeks. Notice the ever expanding belly.
28 weeks. I forgot to take a pic at 27 weeks...oops!
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Monday, April 26, 2010
Wow...Already?
During the first trimester I thought time was going so slow. As of today, I officially changed my mind. I'm 22 weeks. That means in 18 weeks Baby Boo is coming. Or that in 9 weeks I'll be having my shower. Or that I really need to call and get registered for my birthing/breastfeeding/child raising classes. Or that I really need to schedule an dentist appointment. Or that I really should be cleaning instead of listening to pandora.com all day while playing farkle on facebook. 'Cause if I'm ready or not, the baby's coming. And I'm realizing with every braxton hick contraction, he's on his way.
Through out my pregnancy I've been tracking how big he is and little milestones. For 22 weeks, he's now a pound and is around a foot long from tip of the head to his toes. And let me tell you, he's letting me know that he's there. For weeks now I was freaking out that I haven't really felt him move in a while. Well... apparently he was just storing his energy for this weekend. He hasn't been kicking a whole lot, but the kicks that are felt are really strong. Looking back the reason the kicks might have been so strong is because of me being moving around and drinking orange juice. But still, his kicking is stronger than ever before.
Speaking of moving around, I had an amazing day on Friday. Although I didn't get a pedicure nor did I get Olive Garden; I had an awesome time. I finally got my hair cut. I swear to God she cut off 15 pounds of hair. I love prenatal vitamins but it makes your hair grow fast. I got myself a new purse along with a wallet. And some new clothes. And I spent way too much money on myself. But I sorta needed that. On Friday night I was smiling and just happy. I wasn't my normal "blah" self.
Saturday we went to the flea market and I realized just how out of shape I have became. My legs hurt so bad, but we were able to have a good time. Saturday night though, was date night. We haven't had one in a long time. Sure we might go out to eat, but we never get to really get out of the house and do a fun activity. We went bowling. Although both of us were in pain and agony from it, it was a good time. A band that Greg knows was playing at the bar at the ally so we stopped in to see some of his friends. I knew Greg really enjoyed himself, even if the place was packed, smokey and filled with drunken idiots.
Sunday was just a lazy day. We had so much that we wanted to get done this weekend, but none of it got done. Oh well...it all will get done sooner or later. It just needs to happen sooner rather than later. :)
Now, I have another rant. I know, I know...I should stop these...but really this one is driving me nuts.
While we were at the flea market on Saturday morning, I get a text from my mom. "Bad news honey I'm sorry but Shawnee was killed by a hit and run." Who is Shawnee? My mom's neighbor's DOG. Now, I get sad when I hear about any animal dying in any way. But I've seen this dog maybe 3 times. I have no attachment to the dog or the her *asshole* of an owner. However, my mom and siblings were close to the dog and her owner, so I of course send my sympathies. Even when my mom calls me to tell me the *long* story, I don't really know what to say. Just that "I'm sorry she's gone" and "There will be other dogs".
All weekend my news feed is filled with my sister saying something along the lines of: "She's gone, OhMyGod, I can't go on, this is the end of my life" yadda yadda yadda. I think this is a little overly dramatic...even for my sister. She's a drama queen just like me but to just wallow in it for days...seems a little excessive. I understand the loss of a pet is extremely hard, especially one that's considered your family. But eventually, you move on.
I think what bothers me the most is the fact that they actually missed church for the dog's "burial". But yet when I came to visit, they had to go to both church and Sunday school. (They did have to go to church but as far as Sunday school, they didn't have to go...they had no issues that needed to be dealt with then.) So, how am I supposed to feel? That a dog's burial is more important to my family than me having a kid? It might be pregnancy hormones that are clouding my mind...but that's how I feel. And why would I even care about this dog? It wasn't mine...and frankly...I don't like most dogs. *Exception: Cheyenne and Cole. I loves them.*
To me, the whole thing is ridiculous. But then again, who am I to say anything to my family? I wasn't close to the dog and they were. I'm sure it's really hard what they are going through...but I can tell you that my sister didn't even react this way when our Grandfather passed away. And I think that's the saddest thing.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Through out my pregnancy I've been tracking how big he is and little milestones. For 22 weeks, he's now a pound and is around a foot long from tip of the head to his toes. And let me tell you, he's letting me know that he's there. For weeks now I was freaking out that I haven't really felt him move in a while. Well... apparently he was just storing his energy for this weekend. He hasn't been kicking a whole lot, but the kicks that are felt are really strong. Looking back the reason the kicks might have been so strong is because of me being moving around and drinking orange juice. But still, his kicking is stronger than ever before.
Speaking of moving around, I had an amazing day on Friday. Although I didn't get a pedicure nor did I get Olive Garden; I had an awesome time. I finally got my hair cut. I swear to God she cut off 15 pounds of hair. I love prenatal vitamins but it makes your hair grow fast. I got myself a new purse along with a wallet. And some new clothes. And I spent way too much money on myself. But I sorta needed that. On Friday night I was smiling and just happy. I wasn't my normal "blah" self.
Saturday we went to the flea market and I realized just how out of shape I have became. My legs hurt so bad, but we were able to have a good time. Saturday night though, was date night. We haven't had one in a long time. Sure we might go out to eat, but we never get to really get out of the house and do a fun activity. We went bowling. Although both of us were in pain and agony from it, it was a good time. A band that Greg knows was playing at the bar at the ally so we stopped in to see some of his friends. I knew Greg really enjoyed himself, even if the place was packed, smokey and filled with drunken idiots.
Sunday was just a lazy day. We had so much that we wanted to get done this weekend, but none of it got done. Oh well...it all will get done sooner or later. It just needs to happen sooner rather than later. :)
Now, I have another rant. I know, I know...I should stop these...but really this one is driving me nuts.
While we were at the flea market on Saturday morning, I get a text from my mom. "Bad news honey I'm sorry but Shawnee was killed by a hit and run." Who is Shawnee? My mom's neighbor's DOG. Now, I get sad when I hear about any animal dying in any way. But I've seen this dog maybe 3 times. I have no attachment to the dog or the her *asshole* of an owner. However, my mom and siblings were close to the dog and her owner, so I of course send my sympathies. Even when my mom calls me to tell me the *long* story, I don't really know what to say. Just that "I'm sorry she's gone" and "There will be other dogs".
All weekend my news feed is filled with my sister saying something along the lines of: "She's gone, OhMyGod, I can't go on, this is the end of my life" yadda yadda yadda. I think this is a little overly dramatic...even for my sister. She's a drama queen just like me but to just wallow in it for days...seems a little excessive. I understand the loss of a pet is extremely hard, especially one that's considered your family. But eventually, you move on.
I think what bothers me the most is the fact that they actually missed church for the dog's "burial". But yet when I came to visit, they had to go to both church and Sunday school. (They did have to go to church but as far as Sunday school, they didn't have to go...they had no issues that needed to be dealt with then.) So, how am I supposed to feel? That a dog's burial is more important to my family than me having a kid? It might be pregnancy hormones that are clouding my mind...but that's how I feel. And why would I even care about this dog? It wasn't mine...and frankly...I don't like most dogs. *Exception: Cheyenne and Cole. I loves them.*
To me, the whole thing is ridiculous. But then again, who am I to say anything to my family? I wasn't close to the dog and they were. I'm sure it's really hard what they are going through...but I can tell you that my sister didn't even react this way when our Grandfather passed away. And I think that's the saddest thing.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Friday, April 23, 2010
Not Going To Let This Get To Me
I've spent the better part of this past week feeling depressed and sorry for myself. I didn't want to leave the house or do much of anything. Whenever someone would ask me about it, I would brush it off or just become a ball of tears. It sucks. This is supposed to be one of the happiest times of my life and all I can do is feel down on myself. I woke up this morning and my "fog" was lifted a little. It's beautiful out and I want to go out and experience it.
What really is hard though is that Greg blames himself a little for my depression. We don't go out very much anymore, and he knows that hurts me. I'm not saying we have to do something every minute of every day, but we used to just go out and ride around when we first started dating. Now all we do is go to softball maybe twice a week to see a team suck so bad...and a team manager stare at my tits. I'm so sick of sitting in this house and counting out change to save for the baby. Some days I literally feel like my mind is melting.
This weekend though, we're planning on going to see a band. It's just a cover band and it's going to be at a bar...but it's something. It's a change of pace. I know I'll probably not enjoy myself, but at least I won't be contained to these four walls. Yes, there will be a lot of drunk people and smoking...but I don't care. Maybe I'll even get to go bowling. And maybe Greg will take me out to dinner to Olive Garden like he was hinting.
As far as today, I think I'm going to go to the mall. I have no idea if I'm going to get anything (Although Motherhood Maternity has a sale on tank tops) but it'll be nice just to not be in the house. All I know is that my toes need done like yesterday, and I'm feeling that I deserve a pedicure. And I think I might get my hair cut too. I no longer have hair...I have a friggen lion's main. Seriously...it's l-o-n-g and c-u-r-l-y. Mommy hasn't been feeling pretty lately, and I deserve a little something.
I just hope that today I can just get out of this funk.
Now, for a little rant, cause pregnant women need to rant at least 30883479024372 times a day.
HOW HARD IS IT TO PUT UP A FLIPPING BABY GATE????? We don't even latch it so it's tight up against the wall, it just leans against the steps. It takes less than a second to just put it up behind you. But noooo you REFUSE to do it. So the next time your little mutt of a dog goes upstairs...I will pull you by the horse face and push your face into his mess and make you lick it up. Cause frankly...it's getting harder and harder for me to get on my knees and scrub up his piss and crap off of the floor. And so help me God, if any of the dogs figure out a way to get into the nursery...you will be buying me a brand new carpet...and having it professionally installed. Ohhhhh and keep your "boyfriend's" kid away from me. Yes, he's 2...but he pulls on shit, like my shirt, and makes me almost fall. And I don't think he wants to be squished by a very hormonal and bitchy and frankly HUGE women. Jus' sayinggggg....keep him away from me.
Oh and don't make comments about my spending habits and how my fiancee works so I don't have to. You've been on "disablity" since your boys were in diapers (now 18 and 21) and you don't have a damn thing wrong with you. And then you bitch because your eldest son doesn't have a job because he decided to threaten his uncle with a gun...and your younger son doesn't want to work. He's 18 and he has the energy of a 109 year old man. Next time you complain that I don't give my in-laws any money just remember who's paying most of thier bills. And then realize that my in-laws pay for you to go to the buffet almost every day.
Oh....and I can hear what you are saying when you're downstairs...and no...I didn't gain THAT much weight. I'm secure in the fact that I'm fat and I don't need to starve myself to think that I'm beautiful.
:D Have a great day, everyone
~MommyToBee
What really is hard though is that Greg blames himself a little for my depression. We don't go out very much anymore, and he knows that hurts me. I'm not saying we have to do something every minute of every day, but we used to just go out and ride around when we first started dating. Now all we do is go to softball maybe twice a week to see a team suck so bad...and a team manager stare at my tits. I'm so sick of sitting in this house and counting out change to save for the baby. Some days I literally feel like my mind is melting.
This weekend though, we're planning on going to see a band. It's just a cover band and it's going to be at a bar...but it's something. It's a change of pace. I know I'll probably not enjoy myself, but at least I won't be contained to these four walls. Yes, there will be a lot of drunk people and smoking...but I don't care. Maybe I'll even get to go bowling. And maybe Greg will take me out to dinner to Olive Garden like he was hinting.
As far as today, I think I'm going to go to the mall. I have no idea if I'm going to get anything (Although Motherhood Maternity has a sale on tank tops) but it'll be nice just to not be in the house. All I know is that my toes need done like yesterday, and I'm feeling that I deserve a pedicure. And I think I might get my hair cut too. I no longer have hair...I have a friggen lion's main. Seriously...it's l-o-n-g and c-u-r-l-y. Mommy hasn't been feeling pretty lately, and I deserve a little something.
I just hope that today I can just get out of this funk.
Now, for a little rant, cause pregnant women need to rant at least 30883479024372 times a day.
HOW HARD IS IT TO PUT UP A FLIPPING BABY GATE????? We don't even latch it so it's tight up against the wall, it just leans against the steps. It takes less than a second to just put it up behind you. But noooo you REFUSE to do it. So the next time your little mutt of a dog goes upstairs...I will pull you by the horse face and push your face into his mess and make you lick it up. Cause frankly...it's getting harder and harder for me to get on my knees and scrub up his piss and crap off of the floor. And so help me God, if any of the dogs figure out a way to get into the nursery...you will be buying me a brand new carpet...and having it professionally installed. Ohhhhh and keep your "boyfriend's" kid away from me. Yes, he's 2...but he pulls on shit, like my shirt, and makes me almost fall. And I don't think he wants to be squished by a very hormonal and bitchy and frankly HUGE women. Jus' sayinggggg....keep him away from me.
Oh and don't make comments about my spending habits and how my fiancee works so I don't have to. You've been on "disablity" since your boys were in diapers (now 18 and 21) and you don't have a damn thing wrong with you. And then you bitch because your eldest son doesn't have a job because he decided to threaten his uncle with a gun...and your younger son doesn't want to work. He's 18 and he has the energy of a 109 year old man. Next time you complain that I don't give my in-laws any money just remember who's paying most of thier bills. And then realize that my in-laws pay for you to go to the buffet almost every day.
Oh....and I can hear what you are saying when you're downstairs...and no...I didn't gain THAT much weight. I'm secure in the fact that I'm fat and I don't need to starve myself to think that I'm beautiful.
:D Have a great day, everyone
~MommyToBee
Monday, April 19, 2010
Swing, swing, swing. (slight TMI)
The past few days I've been plagued with the worst mood swings ever. It started on Friday when I literally sobbed for 3 hours for no reason. I couldn't stop for anything. And when I finally did get into a lull of cries, I would start up again for no reason. Soon, I got frustrated at myself for being so weepy. There wasn't anything wrong. I just felt...worthless.
I make little jokes to Greg all the time that I guess I was supposed to be barefoot and pregnant. In the past year, I've been pregnant twice. Honestly, sometimes I just feel like a baby machine. Now, I know I'm never going to give Michelle Duggar a run for her money. And Greg will probably want to stop having kids after this one. (He's said on more than once that he doesn't want more than one. Which, is a little shocking, since he's one of seven kids.) As much as I beg him for another, I know fiancially it probably won't happen. This has been a hard year. Sometimes I drift off on the bad, and realize that I do have a lot of postives.
Like, everyday I become a little more aware of my uterus. I know it sounds so silly. But certain ways you move, you can feel it. Even the outline and how hard it's becoming. How I can feel little man moving and kicking. I know it's still not as much as I would like...but it's happening more. He's moving more than I can feel...and I just got to put my faith in that. That he is growing. Something his big brother or sister never did.
Yes, I get concerned when I feel something in my belly. But I think that's normal for any expecting mother. And let me say: I've had a LOT of weird pains and pulls and tugs recently. There also not always in my belly. (Hello. Mr. Man...that was my hoo-ha...don't kick there. Thank youuuu.) But I'm trying not to worry. Again, I'm putting all my faith in the fact that everyday he's growing. (He's approximately 12 inches [or will be by the end of the 21st week] and will be close to a pound!) I know my constant worrying is just hurting me and him in the long run. So I'm going to stop...or at least try to.
With all of this bipolar going on with me, it's making it really hard to talk to someone that I've leaned on this entire pregnancy. My mother is driving me nuts. I know she means well but good gravy...I'm going to snap. This is her first grandbaby. But she makes it sound like she's the only one who cares. Take for example when we found out the gender. I told her numerous times that I'll tell her what we're having when we see her. Because I feel news like that isn't supposed to shared over the phone when you're the mother of the mother of the baby. But no. I called her to let her know that we were on our way to home and she flipped out that my dad will find out what the baby is before her! "It's something that's supposed to be shared between mother and daughter." Ummm no, it's actually supposed to be something shared between mother and father of the baby. I got so upset that I told her. It was a happy moment and she kind of poo-pooed on it.
And we can never get that moment back.
Okay enough about mood swings.
I'm seriously debating if I want to write a book titled "Shit They Don't Tell You About Pregnancy". It will be a best seller. And I will share my knowledge:
*Your nose grows. Mine got HUGE. Don't take my word for it, ask my mother...she'll tell you.
*Sex becomes pretty impossible when you want it the most. Especially if you have an equally pregnant fiancee.
*You will realize that waking up in the middle of the night to pee is not only for old people.
*If you have tattoos, even if they are completely healed, they will start to itch and scab. The one I'm talking about is almost 3 years old and is scabbing like it's brand flippen new. I'm not impressed.
*Cravings are not limited to only food. I never thought I would have a craving for ice. Just ice. I want a big ol cup of ice to suck on. I want no flavored ice...just ice cubes.
*Pregnancy dreams (yes I knew about them) that are so amazing that you wish when you woke up it was real. I.e.: In this dream I was at Olive Garden with Jenn and we were eating their new cheddar cheese breadsticks. (SO good looking) And our waiter was Nick Simmons the son of Gene Simmons. *drool*
....he can serve me breadsticks anyday.
....6 foot 7 of pure MMMM.
*Did I mention it's really hard to have sex with my fiancee? Cause that's becoming a major problem.
Well that's it for now!
~MommyToBee
I make little jokes to Greg all the time that I guess I was supposed to be barefoot and pregnant. In the past year, I've been pregnant twice. Honestly, sometimes I just feel like a baby machine. Now, I know I'm never going to give Michelle Duggar a run for her money. And Greg will probably want to stop having kids after this one. (He's said on more than once that he doesn't want more than one. Which, is a little shocking, since he's one of seven kids.) As much as I beg him for another, I know fiancially it probably won't happen. This has been a hard year. Sometimes I drift off on the bad, and realize that I do have a lot of postives.
Like, everyday I become a little more aware of my uterus. I know it sounds so silly. But certain ways you move, you can feel it. Even the outline and how hard it's becoming. How I can feel little man moving and kicking. I know it's still not as much as I would like...but it's happening more. He's moving more than I can feel...and I just got to put my faith in that. That he is growing. Something his big brother or sister never did.
Yes, I get concerned when I feel something in my belly. But I think that's normal for any expecting mother. And let me say: I've had a LOT of weird pains and pulls and tugs recently. There also not always in my belly. (Hello. Mr. Man...that was my hoo-ha...don't kick there. Thank youuuu.) But I'm trying not to worry. Again, I'm putting all my faith in the fact that everyday he's growing. (He's approximately 12 inches [or will be by the end of the 21st week] and will be close to a pound!) I know my constant worrying is just hurting me and him in the long run. So I'm going to stop...or at least try to.
With all of this bipolar going on with me, it's making it really hard to talk to someone that I've leaned on this entire pregnancy. My mother is driving me nuts. I know she means well but good gravy...I'm going to snap. This is her first grandbaby. But she makes it sound like she's the only one who cares. Take for example when we found out the gender. I told her numerous times that I'll tell her what we're having when we see her. Because I feel news like that isn't supposed to shared over the phone when you're the mother of the mother of the baby. But no. I called her to let her know that we were on our way to home and she flipped out that my dad will find out what the baby is before her! "It's something that's supposed to be shared between mother and daughter." Ummm no, it's actually supposed to be something shared between mother and father of the baby. I got so upset that I told her. It was a happy moment and she kind of poo-pooed on it.
And we can never get that moment back.
Okay enough about mood swings.
I'm seriously debating if I want to write a book titled "Shit They Don't Tell You About Pregnancy". It will be a best seller. And I will share my knowledge:
*Your nose grows. Mine got HUGE. Don't take my word for it, ask my mother...she'll tell you.
*Sex becomes pretty impossible when you want it the most. Especially if you have an equally pregnant fiancee.
*You will realize that waking up in the middle of the night to pee is not only for old people.
*If you have tattoos, even if they are completely healed, they will start to itch and scab. The one I'm talking about is almost 3 years old and is scabbing like it's brand flippen new. I'm not impressed.
*Cravings are not limited to only food. I never thought I would have a craving for ice. Just ice. I want a big ol cup of ice to suck on. I want no flavored ice...just ice cubes.
*Pregnancy dreams (yes I knew about them) that are so amazing that you wish when you woke up it was real. I.e.: In this dream I was at Olive Garden with Jenn and we were eating their new cheddar cheese breadsticks. (SO good looking) And our waiter was Nick Simmons the son of Gene Simmons. *drool*
....he can serve me breadsticks anyday.
....6 foot 7 of pure MMMM.
*Did I mention it's really hard to have sex with my fiancee? Cause that's becoming a major problem.
Well that's it for now!
~MommyToBee
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
If You Have Nothing Nice To Say... (Rant and Pictures)
*Rant Warning* *Language Warning* *Extremely pissed off pregnant woman Warning*
...Don't say I didn't warn you.
As most of you might know, I saw my family this past weekend after we had our ultrasound. Although most of my family was happy for me, and couldn't believe that I was pregnant..some showed some disrespect. This particular person tried to act as nicely as they possibly could, but I could see the distain in their eyes. I understand that I am unemployed college drop out that probably should be saving more money than I am right now. I know that I shouldn't be buying myself new clothes because all of my older clothes no longer fit. I'm not going to appologize for where I am in my life right now, because I am truly happy. Please do not make remarks to me about my "whole life being on facebook" and the fact that I "don't call for the big things."
...UMMMMMM what BIG things are going on in my life besides me being pregnant? And you found out WAY before a lot of other family members. So put that in your pipe and smoke it. I'm sorry that you feel that I'm going nowhere in my life, that's your issue...not mine. I'm LOVING my life right now. I've got everything I need. I have a man in my life that for the first time doesn't expect me to be something I'm not. I have a child that's growing inside of me, after doctors told me that it just might not happen for me.
You have two choices...be happy for me, or stay away. I'm not going to pussyfoot around and walk on eggshells around you. I am a grown woman, just like you. Just because you are older, doesn't make you wiser. You expect respect, well so do I.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes, Mrs. Doctor Ma'am...I put on weight. It's not my fault that I'm on medicine that you PERSONALLY perscribed for me that makes me put on weight. Apparently I can't stop taking this medicine because if I do, I won't be able to breathe! I'm guessing air in my lungs is kinda important. I know that I'm fat, and that I've gained "sufficent" amount of weight so far (22 pounds). But don't assume that I'm just laying around eating bon-bons and potato chips. Yes, I might not be the healthiest eater, but I'm fucking trying. I've stuck to the diet that I was given at my first appointment. I didn't know that now I should be eating an even more rescrited diet. Now that I know, I'm going to try my best to stick to it as much as I can.
You're worried about my blood pressure. Okay, I understand that. But also read my chart. What is my blood pressure? It's on the low side of normal. No, that's not a mistake...the nurse took my BP two times...both times it was the same thing. So don't look at that and go "Well that has to be a mistake." Not every fat person loves to cook in lard and add salt to everything they eat. I'll admit I like potato chips, but I don't eat an entire bag at one sitting. Don't lecture me on how I shouldn't be adding salt to my diet, when obviously, my blood pressure is good for now. Instead, listen to me when I say that I'm concerned about GD, since that's a little more realistic at this point. Although I finger prick myself often...I've been noticing it has been higher.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This one goes out to my friend Jenn, her husband and my fiancee. This economy is in the shitter. People are working at jobs that they hate, and applying to jobs that they normaly wouldn't consider. At least Ben (Jenn's husband) and Greg are trying to provide for their family. I think that is more mature than anything else. Right now, Greg is working 12 hour shifts some days and working on the side doing pick up and mechanical work. Although Ben doesn't have a job right now, he's trying. I know he's not the most motivated person around...but at least he's putting himself out there. He's not like some other people who are on unemployment for a year and only look for jobs because if he doesn't he'll lose his benefits. He's also not on any sort of assistance...so in my book he's better than most.
I know that before the baby comes that we'll have to go on food stamps and WIC...but that's because of formula. I'm sorry but that shit's expenisve. But so far, Greg has been more than able to support both me and him and the baby. I know that is going to change in a few months...but he's busting his ass.
Don't act holier than thou because you don't know what to do with yourself. I appaude these two men for trying to make their situations better.
**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**
listening reading by the way) it's time to post pictures:
20 Weeks! Ahhh halfway there! Yes, I look goofy and it's not the photographer's fault. :( I'm really starting to "pop" out. My belly is getting "harder" every day. I'm still a little squishy (you'll see in the last picture) but I'm fine with that. As long as the baby is growing and staying healthy.
I'm sorry that you can see my bra...this shirt isn't see thru as much as it looks...it's just super comfy. Although I did gain 22 pounds so far, all the weight has been litterly in my belly and my boobs. I went up 3 cup sizes so far! (I pretty much keep them squished in my bra...that I'm busting out of already) And the doctor told me that I could go up another 3 sizes if I breast feed.
Good Lord, that means I'll be in a...44 G! Holy Boobs, Batman. I hope she was kidding, because DAMN I'd be stacked.
Here you can see my "squishy". I still have a good bit of fat rolls and my lower "hanging" belly is still there. That's probably not going to go away. I still miss my toes. And although they are ugly, I still love my stretch marks. My uterus was mesured for the first time yesterday, and little man is mesuring about 2 weeks ahead. I hope that means that he's going to come a little earlier. :)
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
...Don't say I didn't warn you.
As most of you might know, I saw my family this past weekend after we had our ultrasound. Although most of my family was happy for me, and couldn't believe that I was pregnant..some showed some disrespect. This particular person tried to act as nicely as they possibly could, but I could see the distain in their eyes. I understand that I am unemployed college drop out that probably should be saving more money than I am right now. I know that I shouldn't be buying myself new clothes because all of my older clothes no longer fit. I'm not going to appologize for where I am in my life right now, because I am truly happy. Please do not make remarks to me about my "whole life being on facebook" and the fact that I "don't call for the big things."
...UMMMMMM what BIG things are going on in my life besides me being pregnant? And you found out WAY before a lot of other family members. So put that in your pipe and smoke it. I'm sorry that you feel that I'm going nowhere in my life, that's your issue...not mine. I'm LOVING my life right now. I've got everything I need. I have a man in my life that for the first time doesn't expect me to be something I'm not. I have a child that's growing inside of me, after doctors told me that it just might not happen for me.
You have two choices...be happy for me, or stay away. I'm not going to pussyfoot around and walk on eggshells around you. I am a grown woman, just like you. Just because you are older, doesn't make you wiser. You expect respect, well so do I.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes, Mrs. Doctor Ma'am...I put on weight. It's not my fault that I'm on medicine that you PERSONALLY perscribed for me that makes me put on weight. Apparently I can't stop taking this medicine because if I do, I won't be able to breathe! I'm guessing air in my lungs is kinda important. I know that I'm fat, and that I've gained "sufficent" amount of weight so far (22 pounds). But don't assume that I'm just laying around eating bon-bons and potato chips. Yes, I might not be the healthiest eater, but I'm fucking trying. I've stuck to the diet that I was given at my first appointment. I didn't know that now I should be eating an even more rescrited diet. Now that I know, I'm going to try my best to stick to it as much as I can.
You're worried about my blood pressure. Okay, I understand that. But also read my chart. What is my blood pressure? It's on the low side of normal. No, that's not a mistake...the nurse took my BP two times...both times it was the same thing. So don't look at that and go "Well that has to be a mistake." Not every fat person loves to cook in lard and add salt to everything they eat. I'll admit I like potato chips, but I don't eat an entire bag at one sitting. Don't lecture me on how I shouldn't be adding salt to my diet, when obviously, my blood pressure is good for now. Instead, listen to me when I say that I'm concerned about GD, since that's a little more realistic at this point. Although I finger prick myself often...I've been noticing it has been higher.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This one goes out to my friend Jenn, her husband and my fiancee. This economy is in the shitter. People are working at jobs that they hate, and applying to jobs that they normaly wouldn't consider. At least Ben (Jenn's husband) and Greg are trying to provide for their family. I think that is more mature than anything else. Right now, Greg is working 12 hour shifts some days and working on the side doing pick up and mechanical work. Although Ben doesn't have a job right now, he's trying. I know he's not the most motivated person around...but at least he's putting himself out there. He's not like some other people who are on unemployment for a year and only look for jobs because if he doesn't he'll lose his benefits. He's also not on any sort of assistance...so in my book he's better than most.
I know that before the baby comes that we'll have to go on food stamps and WIC...but that's because of formula. I'm sorry but that shit's expenisve. But so far, Greg has been more than able to support both me and him and the baby. I know that is going to change in a few months...but he's busting his ass.
Don't act holier than thou because you don't know what to do with yourself. I appaude these two men for trying to make their situations better.
**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**
Now that I'm done bitching, (thank you for
I'm sorry that you can see my bra...this shirt isn't see thru as much as it looks...it's just super comfy. Although I did gain 22 pounds so far, all the weight has been litterly in my belly and my boobs. I went up 3 cup sizes so far! (I pretty much keep them squished in my bra...that I'm busting out of already) And the doctor told me that I could go up another 3 sizes if I breast feed.
Good Lord, that means I'll be in a...44 G! Holy Boobs, Batman. I hope she was kidding, because DAMN I'd be stacked.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Friday, March 12, 2010
Men! And Baby!
Although I am very happy with Greg...he makes me smile every day. However, sometimes he just makes me go "grrr". I know he thinks that we have money right not because of his income tax...but really...we don't. His van needs some repairs. We need to fix up our room and the nursery. He needs some new clothes. All of this requires money. Yes, it would be nice to go out to dinner...and for me to finally get that steak...but we need to save. He's a kid in a candy store when he gets a little bit of green in his hand. It drives me nuts.
I know why he does it too. His ex, Suzie, never wanted to save money. Most of the time she was out of a job, (yes I know, I'm unemployed right now...but it's not my choice to not be working.) and she always made him buy her things. He never admited that to me, but several other people did. I guess he still feels like that if he doesn't buy me things, I won't love him. Suzie treated him horribly, I just wish I could make him see I'm not like her.
With all of that being said...I really could go for a steak. *drools*
Alright, since this is a pregnancy journal, I suppose I should talk about the baby.
This entire pregnancy until yesterday, I have been craving bananas. Baby boo decided yesterday morning that he or she doesn't like bananas anymore. So much so I had to fight off morning sickness all day. I wanted to try again today and have a banana...no dice. And that big jar of JIF peanut butter we bought on Wednesday? Doesn't appeal to me at all anymore. I don't get it. I probably never will. All I know is that I want a steak and that turkey sandwich from Panera Bread.
It's harder and harder to wake up in the morning. I gotta wake up every hour and a half to pee...and then every time I want to roll over...I wake up. Greg laughs at me when I wake up. Apparently I sigh, groan, and mutter that I'm again awake. And when I'm finally asleep; I have the weirdest dreams known to man.
Seriously....last night I had another dream that I gave birth to Bruce Willis.
And that's not even the weirdest dream I've had.
Hiccups have become a daily thing. They usually start after breakfast...end right before lunch...and at night right before bed. I love this whole hiccup/heartburn combo I got going on. It's a lot of fun!
*Why do I still not have a scarcasm font????*
Baby Boo has been moving almost constantly for the past 2 days. Seems like whenever I take a drink of water (which I do quite often) he or she stirs up and won't stop moving around. It's really kind of cool. I love feeling it, but it's kinda weird when you're trying to sleep.
My digestive system is all sort of messed up. If I can't go, it sucks. If I go too much, it sucks worse. I don't get it. Oh, and the "tooting" is really not pleasant. I'm starting to make Greg feel like he's not the stinky one of this relationship.
Migranes are getting worse, but so far, I can handle them. I just really don't want to take Tylenol. Even though everyone tells me it's safe.
My teeth are super sensative. They always have been but I think I need to change toothpaste.
I'm really...forgetful. I'd forget my hands if they weren't attached.
Ummm let's see....
Since my belly is getting bigger, I love how Greg's hand falls on it when he's holding me at night. It's a little thing...but it feels so right.
On April 10th, we're going for the 3D ultrasound. I was worried that they won't be able to tell...but they assured me that if they aren't 100% sure that they will re-do the session...free of charge. They did tell me that the 3D and 4D aspect might not be what we're hoping for just because the baby will still be little and won't have much fat on them. Let's hope baby boo has their legs open!
Well, Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
I know why he does it too. His ex, Suzie, never wanted to save money. Most of the time she was out of a job, (yes I know, I'm unemployed right now...but it's not my choice to not be working.) and she always made him buy her things. He never admited that to me, but several other people did. I guess he still feels like that if he doesn't buy me things, I won't love him. Suzie treated him horribly, I just wish I could make him see I'm not like her.
With all of that being said...I really could go for a steak. *drools*
Alright, since this is a pregnancy journal, I suppose I should talk about the baby.
This entire pregnancy until yesterday, I have been craving bananas. Baby boo decided yesterday morning that he or she doesn't like bananas anymore. So much so I had to fight off morning sickness all day. I wanted to try again today and have a banana...no dice. And that big jar of JIF peanut butter we bought on Wednesday? Doesn't appeal to me at all anymore. I don't get it. I probably never will. All I know is that I want a steak and that turkey sandwich from Panera Bread.
It's harder and harder to wake up in the morning. I gotta wake up every hour and a half to pee...and then every time I want to roll over...I wake up. Greg laughs at me when I wake up. Apparently I sigh, groan, and mutter that I'm again awake. And when I'm finally asleep; I have the weirdest dreams known to man.
Seriously....last night I had another dream that I gave birth to Bruce Willis.
And that's not even the weirdest dream I've had.
Hiccups have become a daily thing. They usually start after breakfast...end right before lunch...and at night right before bed. I love this whole hiccup/heartburn combo I got going on. It's a lot of fun!
*Why do I still not have a scarcasm font????*
Baby Boo has been moving almost constantly for the past 2 days. Seems like whenever I take a drink of water (which I do quite often) he or she stirs up and won't stop moving around. It's really kind of cool. I love feeling it, but it's kinda weird when you're trying to sleep.
My digestive system is all sort of messed up. If I can't go, it sucks. If I go too much, it sucks worse. I don't get it. Oh, and the "tooting" is really not pleasant. I'm starting to make Greg feel like he's not the stinky one of this relationship.
Migranes are getting worse, but so far, I can handle them. I just really don't want to take Tylenol. Even though everyone tells me it's safe.
My teeth are super sensative. They always have been but I think I need to change toothpaste.
I'm really...forgetful. I'd forget my hands if they weren't attached.
Ummm let's see....
Since my belly is getting bigger, I love how Greg's hand falls on it when he's holding me at night. It's a little thing...but it feels so right.
On April 10th, we're going for the 3D ultrasound. I was worried that they won't be able to tell...but they assured me that if they aren't 100% sure that they will re-do the session...free of charge. They did tell me that the 3D and 4D aspect might not be what we're hoping for just because the baby will still be little and won't have much fat on them. Let's hope baby boo has their legs open!
Well, Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Thursday, March 11, 2010
*twitch* (rant)
I really don't know if this is just pregnancy hormones or the fact that my future in laws are indeed - jerks. All of 'em. Including their little doggies.
Let's go back a little. In November my FMIL and FSIL got into it. So much so, that my FSIL assulted my FMIL. So, my FSIL and her son moved out. Thank God. Yes, it was only 2 houses down, but she was out of our house. I, for one, was so happy. I dispise Greg's sister. She never has anything nice to say and she's manulpative. Just an all around bad person.
Fast forward about 2 weeks. FSIL is getting evicted from where she's living now. So, let's go over to our "mom's house" and cause havoc over there! Let's bring in our little doggie that ISN'T house broken. *facepalm* This dog is teaching our two dogs that it's okay to use the house as it's restroom. It's so gross. The thing is, they don't go downstairs, where there's doggie pads....they go UPSTAIRS where my FILs don't go. (FMIL can't climb stairs well and FFIL just stays downstairs with her) Greg and I have had enough and we have to buy a baby gate to keep the dogs away from upstairs. It's that bad.
I'm tired of mopping up after them...and frankly it hurts.
Ohhhh but it gets so much better! Weeeeeeeee
FSIL and her sons are getting evicted where they live now. They found a new place, which is great! They're not allowed to have dogs...so guess who gets their little poop machine?
That's right! We do.
*Facepalm till I bleed*
They need to do something with this dog. With all of these dogs. I need Ceasar. He'll fix 'em real good.
Now I need to relax, cause everytime I start to get pissed the little one inside of me decides it wants to move around so much that it feels like mommy is going to up-chuck.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Let's go back a little. In November my FMIL and FSIL got into it. So much so, that my FSIL assulted my FMIL. So, my FSIL and her son moved out. Thank God. Yes, it was only 2 houses down, but she was out of our house. I, for one, was so happy. I dispise Greg's sister. She never has anything nice to say and she's manulpative. Just an all around bad person.
Fast forward about 2 weeks. FSIL is getting evicted from where she's living now. So, let's go over to our "mom's house" and cause havoc over there! Let's bring in our little doggie that ISN'T house broken. *facepalm* This dog is teaching our two dogs that it's okay to use the house as it's restroom. It's so gross. The thing is, they don't go downstairs, where there's doggie pads....they go UPSTAIRS where my FILs don't go. (FMIL can't climb stairs well and FFIL just stays downstairs with her) Greg and I have had enough and we have to buy a baby gate to keep the dogs away from upstairs. It's that bad.
I'm tired of mopping up after them...and frankly it hurts.
Ohhhh but it gets so much better! Weeeeeeeee
FSIL and her sons are getting evicted where they live now. They found a new place, which is great! They're not allowed to have dogs...so guess who gets their little poop machine?
That's right! We do.
*Facepalm till I bleed*
They need to do something with this dog. With all of these dogs. I need Ceasar. He'll fix 'em real good.
Now I need to relax, cause everytime I start to get pissed the little one inside of me decides it wants to move around so much that it feels like mommy is going to up-chuck.
Until Next Time:
~MommyToBee
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Baby are you down, down, down, down, down?
I would like to know how one person can be completely exhausted but completely hyper at the same time? I've been waking up at the strangest hours and not being able to fall back asleep. I think this pregnancy thing is preparing me for life after delivery. All I want is to have one night where I sleep for more than 2 hours straight. I know that's asking for a lot. I can understand to go to the bathroom. But jeez. Just one night? Please, baby?
This is a very short blog. Basically, I wanted to post more yesterday, but it already seemed to be long so this is a continuation.
But. When you see a pregnant women at a store...please....PLEASE...do not touch her belly. If you really want to touch, ask. Do not just walk up and start rubbing on their belly. It's just not nice.
Also. I'm 4 months. I'm not carrying twins. I'm not ready to pop. I'm fat. Always was. Probably always will be. I'm huge already. You don't need to remind me.
No, I don't know the sex yet. Please stop asking. I didn't know at 7 weeks...and I won't know until 19 weeks. Sorry.
Oh. And my boobies and how I use them, are my business. Not yours. :)
I'm sorry for the mini-rant.
Until next time:
~MommyToBee
This is a very short blog. Basically, I wanted to post more yesterday, but it already seemed to be long so this is a continuation.
But. When you see a pregnant women at a store...please....PLEASE...do not touch her belly. If you really want to touch, ask. Do not just walk up and start rubbing on their belly. It's just not nice.
Also. I'm 4 months. I'm not carrying twins. I'm not ready to pop. I'm fat. Always was. Probably always will be. I'm huge already. You don't need to remind me.
No, I don't know the sex yet. Please stop asking. I didn't know at 7 weeks...and I won't know until 19 weeks. Sorry.
Oh. And my boobies and how I use them, are my business. Not yours. :)
I'm sorry for the mini-rant.
Until next time:
~MommyToBee
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Post first appointment
Yesterday was our first appointment. I am currently eight weeks two days along, which is a week less than what I thought. So that brings the due date to August 30Th 2010! Both Greg and I are extremely happy at the news. We also found out that my initial blood work has come back as well as the ultrasound. Everything is looking perfect and right on track. We had an extremely long appointment and it took forever. (About 10 minutes of that was me trying to pee cause no one told me that they will be testing my urine at the office.) When the doctor came in she asked a whole bunch of questions, which I knew was going to happen. Then I got the pleasure of getting that "woman" exam that we all know and love.
After that, we got to ask some questions and go over a STACK of papers and forms and guidelines. I felt kind of stupid asking questions. But she told me that it's no problem, and I'm just trying to be informed. I still felt kind of embarrassed. But I suppose she might be the one delivering the baby so I might as well not worry about it. (I'm going to a clinic where it isn't guaranteed that I'll have the same doctor each time.)
My biggest pet peeve is my weight right now. Since November I put on an additional 12 pounds. Which now puts me in the "morbidly" obese category. I almost fainted when I saw my weight. I was floored. I realize that I have a prescription for a steroid, and that I was on them for a full month before I got pregnant. However, I'm only safely allowed to gain 11- 20 pounds for my whole pregnancy. Now, I don't want to starve my baby or me in this time, and I can understand not putting on a whole lot of weight. She stressed that I need to control what I eat and monitor closely what I'm eating. Excuse me? I have never eaten healthier. I eat 3 balanced meals a day. And my snacks are healthy. (Usually carrots or some peanut butter or almonds) I've cut out a TON of sugar from my diet. No more added salt. (that wasn't real hard for me though) And I no longer drink sugary drinks...including soda. Soda. There has never been a time in my life where I haven't drank soda. And to top it off, she told me that I'm not allowed to have mac and cheese? No, no. That just does not work for me. I'm giving up a lot, and I haven't complained...do not take mac and cheese from me. "Remember you're not really eating for two!"
I know I'm fat. And no, I'm not trying to gain a whole mess of weight. I'm trying very hard to be healthy. I just want the baby to be healthy. I was never one who liked a lot of fruits, but I'm proud that I'm eating more of them. Same with veggies. I'm eating at least 4 servings of veggies a day. I'm quite aware that I should be eating 5, but for the longest time I'd go weeks without a vegetable. So I am trying.
Now, onto the good stuff.
Unfortunately all my pics are on my other computer, and I'm not too sure on how to post them anyway. I'll have to play around with them, probably tomorrow. However, last weekend was a good weekend for some baby stuff. Greg and I bought the crib! Yes, it's second hand, but it's in great condition. And luckily for us, it has the drop down side. Newer models don't have them anymore. Apparently kids were able to push them down, virtually impossible for the one we got. We also got a pack 'n' play, and a belly time toy from a guy that Greg works with. Greg's brother's kind-of-girlfriend offered to buy baby something too. This baby is gonna be so spoiled. This brings the items we have so far to:
1. Crib
2. One baby blanket (green)
3. Pack 'n' play
4. Heavier sleeper (Yes, Jenn, we still have it, and we're gonna use it, as long as it's not a huge baby)
5.) Belly time toy
We also might be getting a stroller/car seat soon as well. Although, that's not a promise. I'll let Greg be the one who decides on that one.
Well that's all for now, but I should have a few more posts through out the week.
Until later
~MommyToBee
After that, we got to ask some questions and go over a STACK of papers and forms and guidelines. I felt kind of stupid asking questions. But she told me that it's no problem, and I'm just trying to be informed. I still felt kind of embarrassed. But I suppose she might be the one delivering the baby so I might as well not worry about it. (I'm going to a clinic where it isn't guaranteed that I'll have the same doctor each time.)
My biggest pet peeve is my weight right now. Since November I put on an additional 12 pounds. Which now puts me in the "morbidly" obese category. I almost fainted when I saw my weight. I was floored. I realize that I have a prescription for a steroid, and that I was on them for a full month before I got pregnant. However, I'm only safely allowed to gain 11- 20 pounds for my whole pregnancy. Now, I don't want to starve my baby or me in this time, and I can understand not putting on a whole lot of weight. She stressed that I need to control what I eat and monitor closely what I'm eating. Excuse me? I have never eaten healthier. I eat 3 balanced meals a day. And my snacks are healthy. (Usually carrots or some peanut butter or almonds) I've cut out a TON of sugar from my diet. No more added salt. (that wasn't real hard for me though) And I no longer drink sugary drinks...including soda. Soda. There has never been a time in my life where I haven't drank soda. And to top it off, she told me that I'm not allowed to have mac and cheese? No, no. That just does not work for me. I'm giving up a lot, and I haven't complained...do not take mac and cheese from me. "Remember you're not really eating for two!"
I know I'm fat. And no, I'm not trying to gain a whole mess of weight. I'm trying very hard to be healthy. I just want the baby to be healthy. I was never one who liked a lot of fruits, but I'm proud that I'm eating more of them. Same with veggies. I'm eating at least 4 servings of veggies a day. I'm quite aware that I should be eating 5, but for the longest time I'd go weeks without a vegetable. So I am trying.
Now, onto the good stuff.
Unfortunately all my pics are on my other computer, and I'm not too sure on how to post them anyway. I'll have to play around with them, probably tomorrow. However, last weekend was a good weekend for some baby stuff. Greg and I bought the crib! Yes, it's second hand, but it's in great condition. And luckily for us, it has the drop down side. Newer models don't have them anymore. Apparently kids were able to push them down, virtually impossible for the one we got. We also got a pack 'n' play, and a belly time toy from a guy that Greg works with. Greg's brother's kind-of-girlfriend offered to buy baby something too. This baby is gonna be so spoiled. This brings the items we have so far to:
1. Crib
2. One baby blanket (green)
3. Pack 'n' play
4. Heavier sleeper (Yes, Jenn, we still have it, and we're gonna use it, as long as it's not a huge baby)
5.) Belly time toy
We also might be getting a stroller/car seat soon as well. Although, that's not a promise. I'll let Greg be the one who decides on that one.
Well that's all for now, but I should have a few more posts through out the week.
Until later
~MommyToBee
Friday, January 15, 2010
Another Rant.
Sorry for the shortage of actual blogs and in return, is me running my mouth.
Now this has been something that I have know for a while. A vast majority of my so-called-friends, are immature. Most of them don't know what a real bill is, nor do they wish to know. They fall back on mommy and daddy. And get angry when anyone calls them out on what they want for their future. I see now that it's been like this the entire time I called them my friends.
Here's some examples of what I mean:
1. Telling me that there is a job up where I used to live. Yes, a job is a great thing to have, especially now. Especially when you don't have one, like me. However, It is an hour and a half from where I live now. And when I brought that up I got: "Well that means you have to move up here!!" This person knew where I lived and that I am engaged. But still expected me to drop my life here so "Ya know, we can hang out again and stuff. I miss you!"
You miss me, really? When was the last time that you texted me just to talk... Call me like we used to? All I am anymore is just someone to listen to you when you and your boyfriend are having problems. You say you want to come and visit me, yet you never make plans. And if we do, you're the one who never follows up. I'm not going to sit around and wait for someone to decide if they want to come here or not.
I know I didn't handle the situation well I know that I flipped out and got angry. But damnit, I'm sick of it. I'm tired of taking the blame when I didn't do anything wrong. After that fight, and how you tired to drag me into more of your drama, I don't think I could ever be friends with you again. Yes, it's harsh, and no I probably won't tell you in person; but I'm still hurt. I don't think our friendship hasn't been the same for a while now. I saw who you really were, and I'm shocked that it took me so long to figure it out.
2.) Okay, you're 24...and we lived together for a little less than a year. I scraped and saved to contribute to YOUR bills, to feed YOUR mouth, to pay for YOUR car insurance...I was nothing more to you than a glorified maid. And what did I get? Oh yea, resentment. Because I moved on. I am so grateful that you showed me the absolutely most amazing person I have ever met, my future husband. However, that does not mean you control our lives. You can wish on the highest star that your mom will save you from the mountains of debt that you have put yourself into. We both know that she is through with trying to save your ass.
Now you tell me that you are planning on moving...and going to college? And you're wondering if I want to move back in with you? Because you lost your job and your fiancee cannot find work? I told you, I would never want to live with you again...and I mean it.
3.) It is my choice who I want around my baby...and me as a matter of fact. Don't assume you'll have a bigger role than just a common acquaintance. (There's a reason why I don't beg you to come down here... the bitchy gay persona is no longer cool.) Get a life, and stop acting like you're better than everyone else.
And I swear this is the last one...
4.) You had your chance. Forget about me, forget about Greg, forget about my baby. You'll never see us again. To think, I used to worship you. I used to love you so much that I thought you would do no wrong. You discarded me so many times and I kept crawling back. Now that I found someone who loves me for me, you want to play the role of over protective, jealous ex; when we never even been in a relationship. Who's making up stories now? How DARE you ask me personal questions. Questions that you have no business to ask. Then you throw it back in my face? It's done. It's over. Something I thought I could never say to you. Delete me from your life, like you claim to do with all your other "projects". I guess that's all I ever really was to you. Now I can say that you've let me down like everyone has let down you.
Again, I am sorry for the rant. I promise I will post an actual baby post on Tuesday after our *gasp* appointment! We'll find out when my due date is and how the baby is doing. I'm also praying that we get to have a sonogram. It might be a long stretch, but one can only hope! Hopefully I'll have pictures too.
Until then
~MommyToBee
Now this has been something that I have know for a while. A vast majority of my so-called-friends, are immature. Most of them don't know what a real bill is, nor do they wish to know. They fall back on mommy and daddy. And get angry when anyone calls them out on what they want for their future. I see now that it's been like this the entire time I called them my friends.
Here's some examples of what I mean:
1. Telling me that there is a job up where I used to live. Yes, a job is a great thing to have, especially now. Especially when you don't have one, like me. However, It is an hour and a half from where I live now. And when I brought that up I got: "Well that means you have to move up here!!" This person knew where I lived and that I am engaged. But still expected me to drop my life here so "Ya know, we can hang out again and stuff. I miss you!"
You miss me, really? When was the last time that you texted me just to talk... Call me like we used to? All I am anymore is just someone to listen to you when you and your boyfriend are having problems. You say you want to come and visit me, yet you never make plans. And if we do, you're the one who never follows up. I'm not going to sit around and wait for someone to decide if they want to come here or not.
I know I didn't handle the situation well I know that I flipped out and got angry. But damnit, I'm sick of it. I'm tired of taking the blame when I didn't do anything wrong. After that fight, and how you tired to drag me into more of your drama, I don't think I could ever be friends with you again. Yes, it's harsh, and no I probably won't tell you in person; but I'm still hurt. I don't think our friendship hasn't been the same for a while now. I saw who you really were, and I'm shocked that it took me so long to figure it out.
2.) Okay, you're 24...and we lived together for a little less than a year. I scraped and saved to contribute to YOUR bills, to feed YOUR mouth, to pay for YOUR car insurance...I was nothing more to you than a glorified maid. And what did I get? Oh yea, resentment. Because I moved on. I am so grateful that you showed me the absolutely most amazing person I have ever met, my future husband. However, that does not mean you control our lives. You can wish on the highest star that your mom will save you from the mountains of debt that you have put yourself into. We both know that she is through with trying to save your ass.
Now you tell me that you are planning on moving...and going to college? And you're wondering if I want to move back in with you? Because you lost your job and your fiancee cannot find work? I told you, I would never want to live with you again...and I mean it.
3.) It is my choice who I want around my baby...and me as a matter of fact. Don't assume you'll have a bigger role than just a common acquaintance. (There's a reason why I don't beg you to come down here... the bitchy gay persona is no longer cool.) Get a life, and stop acting like you're better than everyone else.
And I swear this is the last one...
4.) You had your chance. Forget about me, forget about Greg, forget about my baby. You'll never see us again. To think, I used to worship you. I used to love you so much that I thought you would do no wrong. You discarded me so many times and I kept crawling back. Now that I found someone who loves me for me, you want to play the role of over protective, jealous ex; when we never even been in a relationship. Who's making up stories now? How DARE you ask me personal questions. Questions that you have no business to ask. Then you throw it back in my face? It's done. It's over. Something I thought I could never say to you. Delete me from your life, like you claim to do with all your other "projects". I guess that's all I ever really was to you. Now I can say that you've let me down like everyone has let down you.
Again, I am sorry for the rant. I promise I will post an actual baby post on Tuesday after our *gasp* appointment! We'll find out when my due date is and how the baby is doing. I'm also praying that we get to have a sonogram. It might be a long stretch, but one can only hope! Hopefully I'll have pictures too.
Until then
~MommyToBee
Monday, January 11, 2010
No way I'll pay 100,000 for a nursery.
Hey everyone.
I was bored earlier, so naturally I've been looking at all things I'll need for the baby's room. And I stumbled across some celebrity nurseries. I cannot believe how much money they spend. A custom crib....$26,000. No no no. That does not work for my thrifty mind. Hell, I might not even spend $200 dollars for a new crib. I mean, I want the crib to be safe and strudy. But if it's second hand? I really don't mind.
And why does everything need to match? Why does the wall paper match the molding around the windows? The curtins need to match the bumper pads? The stuffed animals need to match the carpet? And all of this matches everything? Yes it would be nice to have it so "perfect" but let's face it...babies like to ruin "perfect" things. They poop. They spit up. It's a fact of life.
So, no I don't want to spend 100,000 dollars on a nursery that my baby will eventually out grow. And yes, my child will have some nice new outfits. But around the house? Who cares if he's wearing hand me downs? I grew up on hand me downs. And in this economy that's all me and Greg can afford.
Money is extremely tight for us right now. I'm not working and Greg is working as many extra hours his job throws his way. I don't want to sound like we're poor, but we don't have extra money. And I make sure to budget down to every penny. And I save every penny too. So when I see people blowing money on things that I could never dream about affording, it makes me mad. I'm glad that some people can afford to give their children all the things they want. It just doesn't seem fair. There is people who don't know how they can feed their children and others just throw their money away on senseless things.
Sorry for the rant. I just get disguested with the "rich".
Until later.
~MommyToBee
I was bored earlier, so naturally I've been looking at all things I'll need for the baby's room. And I stumbled across some celebrity nurseries. I cannot believe how much money they spend. A custom crib....$26,000. No no no. That does not work for my thrifty mind. Hell, I might not even spend $200 dollars for a new crib. I mean, I want the crib to be safe and strudy. But if it's second hand? I really don't mind.
And why does everything need to match? Why does the wall paper match the molding around the windows? The curtins need to match the bumper pads? The stuffed animals need to match the carpet? And all of this matches everything? Yes it would be nice to have it so "perfect" but let's face it...babies like to ruin "perfect" things. They poop. They spit up. It's a fact of life.
So, no I don't want to spend 100,000 dollars on a nursery that my baby will eventually out grow. And yes, my child will have some nice new outfits. But around the house? Who cares if he's wearing hand me downs? I grew up on hand me downs. And in this economy that's all me and Greg can afford.
Money is extremely tight for us right now. I'm not working and Greg is working as many extra hours his job throws his way. I don't want to sound like we're poor, but we don't have extra money. And I make sure to budget down to every penny. And I save every penny too. So when I see people blowing money on things that I could never dream about affording, it makes me mad. I'm glad that some people can afford to give their children all the things they want. It just doesn't seem fair. There is people who don't know how they can feed their children and others just throw their money away on senseless things.
Sorry for the rant. I just get disguested with the "rich".
Until later.
~MommyToBee
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