The Overcash Prophecy

Apparently, according to my friend Robin, the chinese will be taking over the planet in the next 20 to 30 years, and we should all be educating ourselves in the mother tongue now so as to have a leg up when The Appocalypse comes.

I am now recording this for the future. Consider it my own little time capsule, so in 2026 I can look back and say "gee, he was right" Actually, I guess I'll be saying the chinese equivalent, but I am but an egg. I need a good decade to begin to master another language, and I'm still working on ASL.

There ya go Robin. Now get your butt on a train and come visit your honorary nephews. Who else is going to teach them about The Doctrine of Carl Sagan??

He lets me keep him humble....

What you would have overheard as we practiced sign language with our 2 year old today:

"This is the sign for choo-choo train."

"Wow. Cool. Cuz when you rub your fingers together like that, it actually sounds like a train."

"Uh..no.. because it is the motion of a train moving over tracks."

"No, it sounds like a train"

"Dear, this is SIGN LANGUAGE. Created for the DEAF."

*Blank Stare*

"Oh. Yeah... Shut up."

Hit and Run...

I know I've been sporradic with my posting of late, and I can only plead Holiday-itis. Between playgroups, christmas parties, cookie swaps (2 so far), more playgroups, and shopping and wrapping and decorating.. I'm amazed I still find time to pee and brush my teeth between bouts of laugh/sobbing and emoting on my hair. Speaking of emoting on my hair, yesterday it again paid the price for my emotional outbursts... I cut off 6 inches or so and it is now in a short layered bob around my head. This is good because it is what I refer to as "wash'n wear hair" - meaning I can wash it, squoosh a little mousse or gel in it, scrunch it up and go. This is not so good because when they say a "bob" they don't tell you it means you will end up actually looking like your name might be "bob".

Which reminds me, I used to use the name "Bob Oswald" to register all my software. That's neither here nor there, really, but is somehow humorous to me now....

Any road, I now have short, fabulous soccer-mom hair and I may have to put some streaks of purple just so I can still freak everyone out at the Mommy and Me playdates. Note to self: now might be a good time to buy combat boots. You know, before I give in to the brainwashing and become TOTALLY establishment. (I still refuse to buy a membership to Wee Gym, so at least I still have a few hold-outs.) And when I get invited to Gymboree again, I can always flash my tattoo and shake up the cultist mini-van set a little.

Oh, and Mom if you ever read this... thank you for never forcing us to sit on the lap of some guy's husband dressed as Santa. Jack went willingly, but I was astonished at the number of moms who were content with photos of their precious little darling sobbing uncontrollably in the lap of a complete stranger. Seriously. My therapy would be a lot more expensive if you had forced me to sit on some guy's lap against my will every year.

Oh..and if the real Santa is reading this... I was only kidding about the soccer moms being in a mini-van cult. Please bring me a mini-van. I need something that will haul all the toilet paper I'll be buying at Costco. And we'll leave you the good cookies this year, not the ones that I burned because I was wrapping presents and forgot I had put that last batch in the oven. And I'll forgive you for never bringing me a radio controlled car "because they were for boys". K, Thanks.

Archive Asylum

I copied the entries from the LJ I had started for our little family over to here, for posterity, since when the new site is up and running the Blog links will undoubtedly be pointed here. I marked the subjects with a none-too-subtle [ARCHIVE] in them to avoid confusion since this is the "new" Blog.

Then again, the term "confusion" would imply that anyone actually reads this drivel. And if you do... well, you have my sympathies. Have a coke and a smile, and try not to poke yourself with sharp things.

Love,
MeL

Reasons to love Jack...

He bites his sandwiches into shapes, and then plays with them. Today, his grilled cheese sandwich was a pirate ship (which he sailed around his tray, saying "Pirate, ARRRHHHG!") and then a Telephone (which he put to his ear and spoke into, which was adorable despite the toast crumbs and cheese grease he got in his hair).

Lately I've been giving him Zerberts on his belly. (You know, when you press your lips against the skin and blow, making a "PHHHHBBBBBTTTTT" sound...yeah, that one.) He loves these, in the way that one loves and hates being tickled. That's the part that's nothing extraordinary. The part that makes me want to grab him and squeeze him till he pops is that he calls them "Zoo-burps". I gave him ZooBurps for half an hour today, just to watch him lift up his shirt and say over and over "Zoo Burp, Mommy! ZOO BURP!"

Now if I can just keep his dad from teaching him other bodily-related games, all will be well. (IF he starts making fart sounds with his arm pit, heads will roll.)

December already?

November, what happened to you? And how did you escape me so fast? I suppose the answer is that amidst the Thanksgiving hub-bub, settling in with the new baby, and trying to get a leg up on Christmas shopping... November quietly slunk away into the corner and sulked until December came to the rescue and he could punch his card and disappear until next year.

The Christmas shopping is nearly complete, the house is decorated, the tree trimmed... nothing to do now but bake until my arms fall off and then eat until I explode. Ah, this truly is the season of joy....

Goodbye, Grandpa.

My grandfather passed away last weekend, leaving my Gram to continue on alone. I suppose, technically, she has been on her own for a while now... Grandpa finally succumbed to the Alzheimer's Disease that took him from us in any communicative way a few years ago. His obituary can be read here I posted a letter to him on http://www.celebratinglife-ut.com, but I am re-posting it here so it can be preserved once the guest book on that site is gone.

Grandpa, I could not have asked for a better grandfather. I have never, not once in my life, questioned that you love me. You have been ever patient, ever kind. You treated me, from earliest childhood, with patience and respect. It is my greatest wish that when I am gone, I will be remembered as you are - as one who loved learning, loved life, and loved others without condition or exception. I miss you with all my heart.

Delaying the Giving of the Thanks...

My six week check-up has been scheduled for the week after Thanksgiving. Unfortunately for Trip, that means he will have to wait a little while to have something to be thankful for...

I just spent the second night in a row sleeping with Toby on the recliner. These chairs, hand me downs from Trip's folks (Thanks again!) are incredibly comfy.. but somehow, now that I can actually sleep in a bed in semi-comfort (and without a nest of pillows to support the individual swollen bits of a pregnant body) it's lonely to be down in the basement. Luckily, though, since this is the second kid... I know that this is all just temporary. I remember being up at 3am with Jack and bawling because I honestly didn't believe I would ever get to go to sleep EVER again. The best part of the second baby so far is that I know that all the rough bits of this first few weeks are very short-term, and I can relax and just go with the flow. In a few weeks, this will all be a memory and I'll be wistfully thinking back to when Toby was tiny and new. .. of course, it's easier to look back wistfully after a good night's sleep...

Jack & Me & Baby Makes 3

The weather today was amazing. Incredible. It was one of those days where you say to yourself, "Self... it is now officially November, and it is 70 degrees outside". It was SO nice, in fact, that I actually got myself dressed, got Jack dressed, got Toby into the snuggly carrier, and hauled the three of us out to the mailbox. (This may not sound too impressive, but our mailbox is part of a cluster of boxes and therefore several blocks away... so checking the mail is no stroll to the end of the driveway for us...)

Jack held tightly to my hand and together we walked, naming colors of the grass and sky, counting to 10, and reciting our ABC's. Toby slept soundly, all warm and snuggled on my chest, and a breeze ruffled through the trees and made the wind chimes tinkle as though it were a spring day.

At that instant, I thought to myself.. "THIS is Motherhood." And for a shining moment, I was entirely, serenely at peace.

A "Beary" Happy Halloween...

The fear, it builds...

Okay, so I'm beginning to get afraid. Only a few more days with Trip home with me, and then he's back to work and I'm on my own with the 2 boys. So far I have been spared any serious baby blues, but I have a feeling if depression is going to strike it will be once I'm alone with the two small ones.

Toby is growing like a weed, and beginning to chunk out nicely. I did a mini photo shoot with him today and got the photos I will be using for his birth announcements... which hopefully will be going out next week. (that might be a tad optimistic, but I'll do my best.)

Jack is cutting molars. 2 of the 4 are now through, but he is waking up in the wee hours of the morning every day, and won't settle back down unless Trip lays down with him. This means I end up alone in the bed, so I've been bringing Toby in to bed with me when he wakes up to nurse again, thus giving me easy access to nurse him again the next time without having to haul my butt out of bed.

I'm wiped out, and Toby is ready to eat again, so it's time to nurse my boo and head to bed. We head to the doctor on Friday, so I'll have more Toby news then...

They say "it" happens....

But they don't tell you it will happen when you least expect it. They also don't tell you it's a bad idea, in general, to attempt to change a diaper in your lap... especially with the business end of the baby pointed squarely at one's person. You might think this would be self-evident, but cut me some slack -- I just had a baby. :)

I also just found out that my new son has the ability to projectile poo. This, in combination with the newly-learned lessons above resulted in baby poop all over my shirt, hands, lap... not to mention a little in my hair and on my glasses. Who said motherhood isn't glamorous???

Cinnamon Ice Cream

Must randomly share that Cinnamon Ice Cream (care of Blue Bunny) is really, really good. You know when you eat apple pie a la mode, and you get to the end and there's just vanilla ice cream with all that apple-cinnamony goodness in it? Yeah, it tastes a lot like that. YUM.

We had Toby's first check-up today. He is well on his way to re-achieving his birth weight (he's at 9 lbs 4 oz as of this morning). He is nursing like a champ, and all his bits and pieces are in perfect order. They'll see him again in about a week, at which time Jack will also get a quick exam and a flu shot. Trip and I will also be getting the flu shot in the next week or so, as Toby is highly vulnerable at this stage and can't be vaccinated himself for it.

It is WAY too late for me to still be awake, so I'm heading to bed to get an hour's rest before the next feeding. This little boy is a bottomless pit.. and I suddenly have a whole new empathy for dairy cows....

He's Here!

Tobin Michael
Born: 10/15/2005 at 5:46pm EST
Weight: 9 lbs 7 oz
Length: 20.5 inches
15 inch head circumference. (yes, ouch.)

Here's the quick and dirty rundown of events...

Friday 10/14:

1:30pm: Went to the doctor for a check. As I arrived, he was leaving for the hospital where he'd been called in to do a delivery. He said to make sure I was still there when he got back, as he definitely wanted to check on me. I had left Jack with my friend Paige, so I grabbed some sandwiches and headed back to her house, just down the road, and left numbers to reach me with the receptionist.

An hour or two later, they called and I headed back in. A quick internal exam revealed I was dilated 1cm, and we were a GO for induction.

5:30pm: Dropped Jack off with my brother and sister-in-law and headed out to grab a dinner alone on the way to the hospital. Domani Ristoranti in Ashburn has a great tortellini with prosciutto (sp?) in cream sauce. It tasted all the better as it was to be my last meal for 24 hours. The calamari wasn' t bad, either.

7:30pm: Checked into the hospital for Cervidil.

Saturday 10/15:

8:00am: began pitocin drip.

11:00am: got the epidural. My left leg went numb, but my right side took convincing to be numbed at all. Got adjusted, and was suddenly pain free... which was a very good thing. Dilation: about 3cm

2:00pm: Anesthesiologist came to adjust the epidural to control break-through pain. It took a little while, but I finally felt better and Trip went to nurse the broken bones in the hand he used to hold mine. Dilation: 4-5cm

5:25pm: Excrutiating pain in my pubic bones. When I say excrutiating, I mean "Holy Hell there is NO WAY I can do this!" pain. In fact, I actually said repeatedly "I can't do this!"... Trip and Christie the Wonder Nurse (she was completely amazing) assured me that I could, in fact, do it... and also reminded me I didn't have much choice as the baby was already well on his way. A quick check revealed that the pain was probably due to the fact that I was dilated to 1/4cm less than the full 10cm and the baby's head was pushing insistently on my pelvis to get out.

5:30pm: We're pushing, baby.

5:46pm: Tobin Michael takes his first breath and lets out a very impressive squeal of indignation at being removed from his comfy uterine home and pushed out into a very cold and very bright world.

That's the blow-by-blow. The rest was pretty standard stuff... started nursing, changing diapers, re-learning to use the potty and whatnot. Everything was going according to plan until Sunday night...

I was exhausted, and Trip made me promise that I would let Toby go to the nursery while I got some sleep. The nurse came and wheeled my baby away, and I reluctantly laid the bed back to get some rest. Within about 2 minutes, the side of my head felt like it had been blown off and my sinuses erupted in what I can only describe as The Pain Second Only to the Above Mentioned Pain of Childbirth. There was no escaping the pain, and it grew rapidly worse with each passing minute.

After Tylenol 3 had no effect, the nurse called and got orders for Percocet. 2 Percocets every three hours got me through the night in a drug-addled semi-coma, but at least it was something akin to rest. By morning, I was exhausted and nauseated... and had already seen my doctor and promised to call the dentist ASAP.

The end of this little saga is that I left the hospital and went directly to the dentist chair for a root canal. Yes, apparently giving birth just wasn't tough enough for me.. I had to add the root canal.

SO... all of the drama is over, and we are on to learning to live the day-to-day. Thank God I have Trip for another week... the man is a wonder. The laundry is done, the sink is empty of dirty dishes, the Jack is fed and washed and asleep, and my sport bottle is full of icy-cold watery goodness. If they have Most Awesomely Awesome Husband awards, I hereby nominate him for a super-platinum recognition. Seriously... I'm just waiting to find out he has some deep dark secret, like a serious foot fetish or a collection of nude photos of Margaret Thatcher... Then again, as long as the laundry is done, I suspect I could find it in my heart to find even Margaret rather fetching...

Toby is still figuring out how to sleep in his crib, but he's getting there. Jack has developed a bad habit of wanting one of us to lay with him until he falls asleep. When we don't give in right away, he lays on the floor sobbing his little heart out and saying "Please, Daddy... Please Please Please Please....". Needless to say (especially in my current emotionally fragile state) this results in him getting exactly what he wants because, really, what mother could stand to hear her baby crying and pleading like that for very long?

SO.. to make a VERY long story short... Toby is here, we're good, and I'm beat. Thank you for all the well-wishes, and to Trip's office for the beautiful flowers. It's good to feel loved.

Not Counting Unhatched Chickens...

Heading for another check-up this morning... without expectation that there will be significant changes. Pessimistic? Realistic? Let's just say "preserving sanity". I'm desperately refraining from getting my hopes up.

Then again... (*Damn you Murphy and your Stupid Law!*) as Jack has suddenly decided that "bedtime" is a filthy, sailor word... it would be typical irony to bring home a mewling newborn in the midst of this new night time chaos...

More News As It Becomes Available. I Promise.

Deja - Oh to hell with it.

You can basically just cut and paste last week's baby update here. No change... none at all. My body has frozen in time at about 6 weeks ago, and is steadfastly refusing to prepare for labor.

Next check-up: Friday morning. If there is any change, we'll induce Saturday.... but at this point, I'm gonna say... there's not gonna be any change. And we'll be doing this well into next week. And it will be allowed to continue as long as the following Friday, so let's just say this baby is gonna show up around the 21st, and forget for now that there IS a baby, okay? It's too depressing. And I'm too pregnant.

The one good thing I can report is that my doc gave me the OK to take sudafed in the morning and benadryl before bed until my cold is cleared up. The benadryl last night knocked me O-U-T .. OUT! and I got 6 uninterrupted hours of sleep. Of course, by the time I woke up I nearly wet the bed, but hey... SLEEP!! Neat! I took a half dose tonight, and hopefully I will be able to breathe through my nose well enough to wake up tomorrow sans sore throat (which appears to be a result of mouth-breathing the incredibly dry air in our house)...

More updates as they become available. Which means.. I'll probably have more to say in about 10 days, and until then DON'T ASK ME IF I HAVE HAD THAT BABY YET... I know you mean well, but really... I promise, we would let you know... k, thx. Love, MeL

Deja V- Wait A Second!

Over the weekend I realized that, in a past life, I must have done something horrible enough to warrant the thorough karmic ass-kicking I am now receiving.

The sore throat I had last week turned, over the weekend, into a full blown nasty fall cold. Swollen glands? Check. Clogged sinuses and MASSIVE sinus headaches? Check. Body Aches? Check.

Today has been a bit better, but we called the OB to give him a heads up. Basically, he said I can take Sudafed in the morning, Benadryl before bed.. and hey, if my cervix is still not favorable tomorrow, we'll just postpone inducing until the weekend so I have time to recover from my cold...

SO... yeah. I'm drinking water by the gallon, herbal tea, SoBe (with echinacea, zinc, and vitamin C) and using saline spray to clear out my sinuses. I am waging all-out holistic war on this cold. I am willing every cell in my body to be conscripted to the fight, so that by tomorrow morning I can feel GREAT.

I have also given my cervix an ultimatum... DILATE or face the consequences. There really aren't any consequences, but don't mention that to my cervix....

Mental health. Hanging by thread. This calls for drastic measures.... time for a bagel and a vitamin C...

Here comes the rain again....

Blessed rain.. which halteth construction. Praise be to you. Even if you did wake me up at 4am, pelting against my window... I had to pee anyway, and your soothing lullaby rocked me back to sleep until a blissful 7am. Thank you... even if this means our outing to the Renn Fest tomorrow is cancelled due to Mass Quantities of Mud. After all, my sore throat is gone but has been replaced by some sinus junk... so my nose probably thanks you for keeping it indoors anyway.

In other news, Trip will be working from Home on Monday, so I won't have to endure my morning anxiety attack as I watch him drive away and think "but if I go into labor today I'll have to DRIVE MYSELF TO THE HOSPITAL!" Never mind that chances of me going into labor on my own are up there with a cure for cancer before Tuesday or winning the lottery without buying a ticket... but I dare anyone to tell a pregnant woman to think rationally at this point. Plus, I'm sick... and having him here to keep half an eye on Jack will give me a much needed cat-nap here and there...

Speaking of naps... there is a very large recliner calling my name. No, really... I can hear it now, and the voice sounds just like James Earl Jones. Irrational? Please see above....

Don't Wanna Start Any Blasphemous Rumors...

But somebody up there definitely has a sick sense of humor... Allow me to demonstrate...

5:30am: The construction crew building a subdivision behind us apparently decideshat this is a reasonable hour to begin using their JACKHAMMER. It woke Trip up at 5:30. It woke me up at 6. By 6:30, Jack was also awake... so it was a party at our house in the early pre-dawn hours...

6:00am: My throat, which was a little dry and scratchy at bedtime last night, is now fully red, raw, and sore. My head is pounding. My body aches in bizarre places.

10:00am: All of the above symptoms continue, and now I am dozing in and out of consciousness while Jack blissfully plays at my feet in front of Dora the Explorer. We can now add the chills and some monster sweats to my list of symptoms.

1:00pm: After a morning of intermittent napping, returning phone calls that came in while I was dying of the hoo-doo virus in my recliner, and a snack with Jack of apples and wheat thins, I put Jack down (he's still up there singing to himself) and told him to play if he must, but Mama had to visit the puter and then get more nap.

All of the above adds up to the fact that I now feel slightly less dead than the raccoon that was smeared on route 9 yesterday, and STILL none of this leads up to any indications of Labor beginning. SO, I am still pregnant... and feel wrung out enough that I am imagining a kinship with barely recognizable road kill. I wonder if delusions are ever a sign of impending childbirth??? Anyone... anyone... Bueller?

Medically Speaking....

Trip and I came to the conclusion the other day that the naming of male and female reproductive parts must have resulted in a spirit of competition gone horribly wrong.

Allow me to elucidate..... We imagined events something along the lines of a male doctor named all the female parts as distastefully as possible (Cervix? Labia? Are you kidding me?).

The female doctor, who had just about finished naming the male parts with fairly reasonable syntax (Prostate? sounds like a car insurance company..) played the ultimate trump card by inventing the mother-of-all, shudder-inducing nomenclature.

Say it with me, now... and I dare you not to flinch...

Scrotum.

See? Told ya.

Deja Vu All Over Again...

We went to the OB today and, in spite of our best hopes, there has been no activity in the baby department. No dilation, no effacement, and the baby has not engaged or even really moved down to a satisfactory degree. The doctor, who was very sympathetic to our disappointment, basically said that he is confident I will still be able to deliver the baby if we let it grow another week, and if we tried to induce now (even with Cervidil) he's worried we may cause unnecessary complications and end up with a c-section that could have been avoided...

SO... long story short... after a few tears (me) and some reshuffling of work schedules (Trip) we rescheduled the induction for next Wednesday, October 12. We also went ahead and scheduled the Cervidil treatment, which means I will plan to check in to the hospital next Tuesday evening. We'll have one more check at the doctor's office on Tuesday afternoon, just to see if things have progressed at all... but at this point, I'm not optimistic that this baby has any plans to arrive on his own or help the process along at all....

All in all, a bit of a disappointing day... but, as Trip keeps reminding me, the baby is healthy, and even if we have to wait one more LOOOOOONG week before he makes his appearance, our son will have 10 fingers and 10 toes and everything in its place... so for that, I am grateful. I'm sure I'll be even more grateful once my pity party has run its course... and once I've consumed my body weight in chocolate...

Notes from the Edge...

Well, it is Monday night and tomorrow morning we head to the doctor to get the verdict on whether we go to the hospital tomorrow night or Wednesday morning.... (we won't consider any other possible outcome at this point.... just cross everything on your body that crosses for us, and hope that we are not cervix challenged come noon tomorrow....)

Jack and I spent our last day alone together doing nothing in particular. Chris the Wonder Plumber managed to dislodge the shave gel lid that has been stuck in our master bathroom toilet for the last 2 months. Yes, for 2 months we have been using the hallway guest bathroom toilet. This is because Jack figured out that if he gets caught doing something naughty, it's more fun to finish up your dirty deed fast and watch momy and daddy freak out when they can't stop you in time... and damned if the kid isn't speedy like a ferret on meth when he wants to be... you've never seen a lid flushed so fast in your life...

Jack pretended to be a puppy for a few hours, and chased me around the house on all-fours trying to lick my shins. He woke up from his nap after just an hour or so crying for a drink of water, which I brought him. He obligingly took it, said "thank you, mommy" and climbed back into bed... at which point I realized I was exhausted, and climbed in with him. We napped together in blissful quiet for nearly an hour, and then he got up and very quietly played while I dozed off and on for another half hour or so. Have I mentioned that I have the most awesome kid in the history of the world? Because... Yeah.. I do.

Here's the tally of "things we normally do, but which took on special significance because it was our last day together before we get this baby-birthing started":
# of diapers changed: 4
# of times we read "Colors with Oswald": 6
# of hugs: a lot, but never enough
# of episodes of SpongeBob watched: 2
# of zerberts: 20 or so
# of times Jack wrote on something he shouldn't have: 3. (once on the little TV with permanent marker, once on the dust jacket to a book with the same marker, and once all over his legs with a ball point pen.)

For all the jangle of nerves I am feeling with the uncertainty ahead (and the certainty of pain to follow...) at this moment in time, I am feeling incredibly lucky to be a Mama. I'll feel even luckier if I manage to sleep 3 consecutive hours tonight without having to get up to pee... but hey, at least tonight I can go in my own potty... it's the little things....

Hurry Up and Wait....

4 days and counting. I have been attempting to keep my days as full as possible in order to keep my ferret-like attention span occupied... so as not to actually FEEL the impatience bubbling just under my calm exterior.

Okay, so the exterior is not so calm, but compared to the interior it's a calm day on a Cayman Beach.

Today we are attempting to polish off any remaining chores, so as to have the house as close to "company condition" as possible. This way, when reinforcements arrive (in the form of Trip's Mama) in a week or so, we will be in need of some sprucing without requiring a full-on Extreme Makeover-style overhaul.

So far, many loads of laundry have been washed, folded, and mostly put away. Dishes have been done, counters have been wiped. I will be doing another vacuum once-over this afternoon (with 2 cats, you can never vacuum too much).

Jack's bedding has been washed and his bed made. Hopefully he manages to keep the party in his diaper between now and Tuesday... he's been swimming in his blankets a few times a week the last month or so. (We moved to the next size of diaper, to no avail.)

The hospital bag is gathered, and this afternoon I will pile my survival kit into the small travel suitcase. It was highly disappointing to find out the hospital doesn't allow Italian Ices during labor.. just plain old ice chips. I've been pondering whether they would allow me to use my ice shaver, so at least I don't chip my teeth while I'm wasting away with low blood sugar on the delivery table. (And hey... if the machine is used to make the odd margarita without my knowledge or consent... I can hardly be held responsible)

SO... the wait continues. All I can say is... Tuesday, you better hurry up and get here... and bring Wednesday with you, huh?? Let's get this show on the road....

Paraphrasing For Fun and Profit....

AIM conversation regarding the previous post:

Man: I don't ever want to hear about your cervix or its changes... not ever ever again...

Me: Do you know what a cervix is?

Man: uh.. actually.. no.

Yes, I am paraphrasing, but that's the general idea. Curly, I love you. :)

Target Sighted.

The end is near. Seriously.

Okay, first off, here are the boring stats:
Total weight gained: 45 pounds
Blood Pressure: 129/78
(not bad, but a good bit higher than my non-pregnant bp of about 90/60)
Total Babies Hiding out in there: 1
cm Dilated: 0
Percent effaced: 0

NOW, on to the important stuff.

My cervix is changing, even though it has not yet dilated or effaced... It is getting softer, which is a good sign that things are at least moving forward, if not as fast as one might hope.

We scheduled an induction for next Wednesday, October 5, at 8:30am.

I go back into my OB's office next Tuesday to do a cervix check. If my cervix has begun to dilate and progress, EXCELLENT, we will move forward as planned. If I have not progressed as well as we had hoped, I will most likely be heading into the hospital on Tuesday evening for a Cervidil treatment which will hopefully encourage things along and begin dilation. Once I am dilated 2cm or so, whether by nature or by Cervidil, we can start a pitocin drip on Wednesday morning at 8:30, break the water sometime fairly soon thereafter, and... with any luck.... 12 hours or less later we will be greeting our new baby boy.

Mark your calendars, people.... October 5, we are looking for an induction.

There is the slight chance that I will not dilate on my own, and that the Cervidil will not work..... in which case, I would go back home and wait until there is another opening and I have progressed, or until I go into labor spontaneously. In case of this scenario becoming reality, please send flowers care of Northern Virginia Maximum Security Mental Health Clinic, as I will most certainly need to be institutionalized for a seriously long time..... My hopes are UP, people... everyone cross fingers, toes, elbows, and knees for us, because we are going all in that this baby will make his appearance sometime next Wednesday!!

And yes, that was a shameless poker reference... because yesterday I managed to make it to 70th place out of 245 on my computer poker tournament. Hey, Mama can make a baby and Mama... she knows how to gamble. (And really, isn't that redundant?)

He loves me.

Yesterday, I had a breakdown. I cried like a silly fool because, for anyone who didn't yet receive the memo, I AM DONE BEING PREGNANT... even though all physiological signs would say otherwise. (ergo, the baby is still in my uterus.) My throat was also a little sore, as was my back, and I had one big fat self-pity party for about 3 minutes. Then, I went to Wal-Mart and bought travel size toiletries so that THIS time I won't have to wash my hair with the hospital hand soap. I also got 2 sets of pajamas so that I can wear something besides a hospital gown.. because, regardless of what Trip might say to the contrary, nobody but NOBODY wants to see my lily white bum.

I came home feeling somewhat better, as I also managed to get the car washed and vacuumed so I could install the infant car seat (which was necessary and good, since we would otherwise not be allowed to take the baby home from the hospital...) I got Jack into the house and up for his nap, and found a note on the fridge from the most spectacular husband in the history of the world. It made me cry, again... but this time it was happy tears.

SO, I'm going to take one very mushy moment to say.... Thanks, Baby. We will indeed get through this last mile together... just as we have the last 99 (999999999999999). I sometimes forget that, even though I'm the one with all the physical symptoms... you're "expecting", too. Thank you for seeing me through, and telling me I'm beautiful... even when my nose runs, or when you've heard about the state of my cervix for the thousandth time.

3 things that you didn't need to know...

1. Sometimes, when a girl is exhausted and overwhelmed, a bologna and cheese sandwich and an individual-sized box of raisins can somehow make it all seem a little easier.

2. Last night, in the midst of my painfully restless pseudo-slumber, I managed to have a dream. Not your average, run-of-the-mill, vivid pregnant dream; No, this was one of the dreaded "vivid and so disturbing I'm not sure I'll sleep for a week" variety. In it, my distended, pregnant belly had a face. Somehow, the baby's face was ON my belly... so I could see what he looked like, but he was also somehow still inside my belly.... and I kept saying "yes, it's great to see what he looks like but he needs to hurry up and get BORN already!". Somehow, the me in the dream remained undisturbed by the fact that her belly had EYES with lashes, lids, and brows... a nose... a mouth with lips that opened and closed silently... as though this were the most normal thing in the world.

I woke up vowing never to drink gatorade before bed again. I think all those electrolytes did something to my brain.

3. Tuesday is exactly 2 days away. Is it wrong that I am tempted to do jumping jacks for a while, to encourage the kid to start making his downward descent? Don't answer that. YOU haven't been pregnant for so long that you can't remember what it feels like to wear pants without the big stretchy-cotton "smile" on them... and your legs probably don't resemble the whiteness and roundness of the Michelin man's with the added squishyness of the Stay-Puft marshmallow man. Mmmm... marshmallows.

I am so finished being pregnant. So, to my unborn son... please to be getting the hell out of me now. K, thanx.

NOTICE OF EVICTION.

Borrowed (and bastardized..) from one of the girls over at the BabyFit.com message boards.

THIS NOTICE is to inform my unborn child that he has 14 days (give or take a few) to pack his things and remove them from the premises of my womb. As the landlord, I take full responsibility for helping him to adjust to his new surroundings once he has vacated the womb. He will be loved and cherished as a member of this family; however, he (tenant) shall be held liable for any and all damages incurred to the womb during the last 9 months of kicking, rolling, punching, and otherwise abusing the internal organs of my body. Additionally, he shall be liable for any additional damages incurred during the move-out process. I (the landlord) reserve the right to remind him (the tenant) of all the pain he caused me during pregnancy and undoubtedly will cause during labor. This right is reserved for the first 18 years of his life and may be recalled to use at anytime deemed necessary. Additionally, he (the tenant) will share liability with his male parent (the co-signer), who may also be held culpable for the aforementioned occupancy and any damages, especially at Christmas, Birthdays, Anniversaries, or any other time fine jewelry and Spa gift certificates may be under negotitation.
Dated: Thursday, 22 September, 2005

Today Jack started pretending to be a dog. He gets down on all fours, pants, says "ruf ruf" and licks anyone with the misfortune to get close enough. It's really quite adorable, but I'm flummoxed as to why the child combines this with hopping about like a frog. I mean this literally.... he HOPS like he's playing leap frog, and says "ruf ruf". What kind of freaky mutant dogs has the kid been watching??!! Someone remind me to record this in his baby book. I can't wait to torture his future girlfriends with these kind of stories....

Next Tuesday we will schedule a tentative date for induction, since it looks like our new baby boy will be the same size as his older brother. (that's 10 pounds for anyone who has been living under a rock for the last 2 years and has been spared hearing all about my harrowing adventures in previous childbirth...) I keep holding on to the slim hope that my body will magically go into labor on its own, but that would be breaking with family tradition to a degree possibly more shocking than my morning cup of coffee.

SO, I am killing time any way I can think of, which includes an all night Scrapbooking party a week from tomorrow.... and hopefully I can get all of Jack's first year photos down in his book before the new kid gets here and I am swamped in a whole new set of pictures... I don't know that I was cut out for this whole scrapbooking craze... but at least it means I get cool pens and stickers. (Have I mentioned I have the *tiniest* addiction to office supplies, especially anything brightly colored that allows me to doodle things like stars and flowers??) Yet another reason I need therapy.

As if I needed further proof of mental instability -- so apparently distraught was I over the fact that I don't have any better idea than I did a week ago of when this child will make his appearance, I spent Tuesday night crying uncontrollably for about 30 minutes. Hormones make you do funny things. Oh, and then I dyed my hair a radioactive shade of red. We're talking fire engine, Little Mermaid, no-possibility-that-&*#@- is-natural Red. My son is going to enter the world wondering why it hurts his eyes to look directly AT Mommy's hair. The funny thing is... I don't think it bothers me - not really. After all, Jack hardly seemed to notice the change - and as I'm about to become the mother of TWO, this is probably my last chance for open rebellion against the preconceived notions people have about stay-at-home-Moms. Shoot, I may even get a pair of combat boots. Just cuz, ya know... hormones make you do funny things.

Hold 'Em If Ya Got 'Em....

Last night, after a few weeks of learning some basics on a computer simulator (Yes, I just said that. I know I'm a dork, and I've come to terms with it, so nyah..) anyway, last night I played my first game of Texas Hold'Em Poker with live humans. Thanks to the men for letting the big, sweaty pregnant lady in on their manly fun... I hope I wasn't too much of a wet blanket. I did manage to make a decent showing, outlasting both my indomitable spouse and his freakishly-doppelganger-esque friend. (I'm serious. Sometimes I think I should ask for DNA testing.) SO, I didn't go out first and when I did get creamed it was because my full house got beat by a BETTER full house. All in all, nothing to be ashamed of.

Oh, also.... there is something incredibly charming about that fact that as my 2 year old son is learning new words, completely innocent words sometimes transmogrify into much more entertaining conversation...

Today's case in point... I was trying to figure out where Jack would have learned the word "Queer" and wondering if perhaps he's been secretly watching the Fab 5 on Bravo... when I realized he was pointing out that the pretzel in his Chex mix was, in fact, a SQAURE.

Chalk one up for the kid.

F is for Fabulous.....at least for the moment.

Saturday morning I was scheduled for a pedicure with my good friend Renae. I went to meet her at her house, only to find a table full of kick ass food and a room full of even more kick ass friends. I was taken completely unawares by a Surprise Baby Shower. Now, those who know me well may have noticed I am somewhat prone to bouts of depression ranging from moderate to "oh shit, head for the hills". Of late, due to the combination of raging gestational hormones and 9 month lack of alcohol, I have been in what is commonly referred to as "a funk". Saturday morning did for my funk what that first ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds does for a dark and rainy day.

SO, to the awesome and incredible women who surprised me and let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I can never tell myself "nobody notices that I'm around".... Thank you.. from the bottom of my soggy heart. You made me cry in front of people other than my husband and son, something extremely rare. Even more special, they were tears of joy and gratitude. You guys Rock the Casbah.

I *Heart* John Stewart....

Regarding this comment by Homeland Security Chief Michael Chertoff to Tim Russert:

Russert: If you knew a hurricane 3 storm was coming why wasn't weren't buses, trains, planes, cruise ships, trucks provided on Fri, Sat, Sun to evacuate people before the storm

Chertoff: Tim, the way that emergency operations act under the law is the responsibility, the power, the authority to order an evacuation rests with state and local officials.

.....

Jon: They can't just rush in there, the federal government can't just usurp the power of the states... unless New Orleans is in some type of persistent vegetative state...

In the beginning....

Somebody insane created the blog, and now I have this unholy forum in which to express myself. Ain't life grand? Well, according to Barbara Bush, our president's mummy, it's apparently working out very well for... THE HURRICANE EVACUEES. I'm not going to wax philisophical on this one... the incredible lack of comprehension speaks for itself.

The downstairs is now 99% painted (a few touch ups needed, and the trim will eventually get a fresh coat of white semi-gloss). Is it truly nesting if I am preparing the house with such reluctance? I thought nesting was supposed to be accompanied by this burst of energy???

Oh, and it has been established that Jack has The Fear of a small stuffed owl that was made for Trip by a thoughtful (if bizarre) navy wife when he was born. He actually climbed out of his bed, plucked it off the floor, tossed it out his bedroom door and closed the door firmly behind it... before climbing back into his bed and settling down for his nap. I have to admit, though... the owl kinda scares me, too.

Super duper slacking..... [ARCHIVE]

Wow, it's been a long time since I posted an update, and so much has happened in the last few months it's hard to know where to begin... so let's just hit the hilights, shall we?

-We're pregnant. Yes, baby boy Kistler #2 is due October 14. I'm big, I'm round, and I can still shake it to the ground! Oh yeah!

-Congrats to my big brother Andy on graduating from Medical School... Doctor, we salute you... and we're glad you'll be a pediatric psych specialist, so you can unravel the mess we'll be making of our children. Jack could probably use a little therapy already.....

-Had a chance to visit with my folks, my sister Jenn and my brother Joe, who all came into town for the aforementioned graduation. It was a blast guys, and we'll see you in July.

-Redecorated the upstairs bathroom. This included a new peel and stick tile floor, all new hardware (except the faucet, which will have to wait till we feel like blowing $50 on something so frivolous) and new linens. It's still baby-poop brown-yellow, but all in all it looks pretty darn good.

Those are the hilights. I'm another year older (26 as of April 5) and several pounds heavier, thanks to my little tenant. He's kicking away, and generally in perfect condition according to all tests and such. Jack will be turning 2 at the end of July, and Trip will be turning 27 in about a month. Time marches on...

Here's the summary for today:

Diapers Changed: 4
Puppy accidents cleaned up: 3
Pop Tarts Eaten: 1
Milk Drunk: 12oz
Times Jack said "Oh No!": 78314792151235321
Episodes of SpongeBob watched: 2

That about sums it up. I spent most of the day running virus scans on my laptop to complete the clean-up process that has been ongoing for most of the last week, since I got infected with 54328648326 Trojan and Worm virii. Installed Windows Service Pack 2, installed AOL and got McAfee up and running (bless you, McAfee. Bless you and your virus-shredding ones and zeros... Bless your cold, merciless heart.)

I promise to be better about updating. Really. It's my goal now. Besides, we're going on a hot-air balloon ride this weekend, and one really has an obligation to report back on something like that. I even got a doctor's note so I can tote my pregnant tush up in the basket. And I think I've stayed under the specified weight limit for the nice balloon operator to remove some of the sand bag weights on my account. Because, really.. if he has to take off sand bags for me not to weight the thing down, I'd really rather just skip it. It's the same reason I refuse to buy clothes above a certain size... If I have to "go there", it's better to just live in a potato sack and lose some weight. Seriously.

As the new year rolls on.... [ARCHIVE]

So do the multitude of changes in our lives. Yesterday, the cable installer came and officially changed us from DSL to Cable Modem equipped people. I'd like to point out that the DSL was fine for our purposes, but the Cable Modem is, by comparison, SMOKIN' HOT FAST!

I updated the photo album yesterday to include the last 3 months of Jack photos, so you may go feast your eyes on his glory. The child is unstoppable -- he repeats everything he hears. This is, of course, a nice way of keeping us conscientious in our language.. but the real point of this revelation is to say that my heart officially turned to a puddle of melted goo yesterday. My son, probably having no idea the meaning of the sounds he was making but melting my cardium in my chest none the less, looked at me and repeated "I Love You." I can't describe the feelings that ensued, but the kid may have internal bleeding from the tightness of the snuggle he received in response.

Last night, with the cable modem whizzing away, Trip installed our new Voice over IP router. This means that I was able to FINALLY tell Frontier to "take this crappy, overpriced, highway robbery you call phone and internet service, and stick it where the sun don't shine!" Well, I was much more polite than that, and the woman in customer service actually struck up a very friendly conversation about kids (hearing Jack in the background) and didn't argue with me when I told her that I wanted, lock stock and barrell, to have our short union with them anulled.

The phone is working just great... in the office. I tried to have my mother call me today only to realize that the ringer was turned off. Jack and I will be making a trek to Staples today to get the little piece of equipment that will force the signal throughout the house. This will allow the upstairs phone to work, which is a very good thing since, to Jack, the office is the baby equivalent of the haunted forest. Do not enter, do not pass go, and if you do somehow manage to get him in here be prepared for the unholy screams of protest.

Speaking of unholy screams of protest, I had better get a shower before he wakes up from his nap. He and I have errands to run! We are expected to get enough snow to close down the town (which apparently doesn't require much) followed by enough snow to actually keep reasonable people indoors... so we will be stopping by the grocery store to get enough supplies to get us through the weekend.

If anyone needs to reach us and doesn't have our new phone number yet, please email me and I'll send it along.

Until next time....
MeL