Corben's Birth

I've been trying to sit down and write about Corben's birth ALL DAY for THREE days now, before it gets away from me, as these things tend to do, but this kid hasn't stopped eating all day. Which, I am in no way complaining about, especially since last night he slept most of the night. Eat all day, sleep all night? Hell, I can get on board with that. Why, it's exactly what I've been doing for the past 9 months!

So I guess the last you heard from us was on the Tuesday before the birth. On Wednesday we went in to see the midwives, who after a little check, informed me that I was 1 cm dilated, with some other good things happening down there. Now 1cm at nearly 41 weeks is nothing to write home about, but it was PROGRESS! Progress that made me feel like we actually may have this baby before it was time to register him for preschool.

On Friday we had a BPP (biophysical profile) test scheduled, which includes an ultrasound and a non-stress test, where they basically check all of baby's stats and make sure everything is still OK. They look for baby's movement, breathing, fluid levels and muscle tone, and then hook you up to a monitor to make sure baby's heartrate is increasing with movement, yada yada yada.

Annnd....we kind of failed the test.

Kinda.

See, baby was in the middle of a nice long nap during the ultrasound, and was NOT interested in coming out to play. Thus he got a big fat ZERO in the movement box, and a big fat ZERO in the breathing box, because that was also way down.

Luckily he came out to play for the non stress test, and they recorded lots of movement there.

However, since we technically failed the test, the midwives asked me to come back the next morning to repeat the whole shenanigan all over again.

Goodie.

My midwife assured me it was nothing to get concerned about, since they saw lots of movement eventually, and that lower breathing rates can actually be a sign of a baby getting ready to head on out, but it was another day of waiting, and another drive to the hospital the next morning.

Or not...

We went home, I promptly got on the elliptical and went for a nice long (but slow!) walk. Ate 1/2 a pineapple. Then got up to some shenanigans of our own later that night.

Something seems to have worked!

At 3:30 am, I woke up feeling those telltale cramps. By 4am, my contractions started. They were regular from the get-go, coming about 5 minutes apart, but only lasting about 30 seconds or so. I stayed in bed for the next two hours, determined to rest and let the family keep sleeping, and knowing darn well that Griffin would be up at 6:01, and there was no chance in hell of anyone sleeping in. I started to make lists in my head...lists of all the things I had to do when I got up - strip the good sheets off the bed, blow up the pool a bit more, pack the last of Griffin's things, oh and muffins...wouldn't it be nice to have fresh muffins this morning?

Just before 6am I woke Steve up to share the news.

The first few hours of the morning flew by in a haze. We called Grandma and Grandpa to come pick up Griffin, called my mom, called Gretel, and finally, called the midwives, all while my contractions sped up to about 3 minutes apart. Oh, and muffins....I made muffins!

At 8:30am, everyone seemed to converge all at once. Grandma and Grandpa arrived, just in the nick of time, because we were about to toss Griffin in the snow to go play by himself (OK, not really, but we were starting to loose patience with Captain Full O'Beans.) The midwives arrived. The dog went ape-shit. Gretel arrived. The midwives checked me and declared me 4 cm dilated, and in active labour, all while Dudley barked madly in the background.

And then suddenly, it was quiet again, and I had the go-ahead to get in the birthing tub.

Ah the tub! It was warm, I was buoyant, it was all good. And those stories you read, about waterbirthing, and how getting in the birthing tub just makes the pain of the contractions "melt away?"

Lies. All lies.

Don't get me wrong, it was relaxing as stink to hang out in the water all day. It was easy to change positions, it was soothing and warm, but there was nothing melting about my contractions!

The midwives encouraged me to get out of the tub fairly regularly, as walking around sped things way the heck up. I got out for the first time around noon I think, just around the time that my Mom arrived. Another check found me at 6cms, and we decided to break my water just to keep things moving along. (I'm kind of with the "lets just get this over with" school, that says bring on the pain, if it means it's over quicker!)

I think it was shortly after one that I got out of the tub again. The contractions had seriously intensified, and I could no longer get comfortable in the tub. Buoyancy was suddenly unwanted, I wanted something solid and supporting under me that I could lean on, and I knew push against when the time came.

And the time came sooner than I anticipated. I moved to our bed, and after a few quick contractions I was ready to push.

Anyone who's given birth will tell you that that desire to push is something that you could never ever fight. Women that are told "don't push yet" are like, "yeah, right." It's akin to stopping a fricking freight train. So I was glad to hear that we were good to go, everything was dilated and effaced and all the other things they needed to be. So suddenly we were pushing. And just as suddenly, it was over. I think maybe a grand total of 5 pushes and a few tribal howls later, I was holding my beautiful new son in my arms.

Now, aside from all the "technical elements" of the story, I want to tell you a bit about what I remember about the beauty of being able to have this experience in my own home. Our house, which is full of windows facing in all directions, was flooded with the most beautiful sun light all day long...I'm not sure I've seen a more beautiful day so far this winter. Despite the fact that there were 6 people in the house plus me, it was silent, almost reverent, all day long. It was an amazing feeling to be surrounded by familiar things, familiar people, all of whom obviously held a deep respect for what they were witnessing. I hardly felt worthy of the respect as I lounged in the water and later howled on the bed...hell, most of what I was doing was breathing. However, here in the afterglow, holding this stunning little human being in my arms as I type, I fully understand the importance of the event. It's life giving...it's giving life.

I really don't know where everyone was or what everyone did all day long, but the one thing I do know is that Steve never left my side - he was amazing, strong, and I couldn't have done it without him. Gretel too - she did leave my side, to make sandwiches and take pictures and do all kinds of other stuff that I'm certain I have no idea of the breadth of, but every time a contraction hit she was right back there at my side, pushing on my back, or not, depending on my mood at the time. I love both of you guys, and I'm so glad you were a part of the day.

I'm also so glad that my Mom was able to be there. My Mom arrived on time for Griffin's birth, but ended up going back to our house to grab a bit of rest, as we thought it was going to be hours before Griffin arrived. Griffin surprised us all (including the second midwife who arrived in barely enough time to catch him!) and my mom missed the big moment. I'm glad you didn't miss it this time Ma!

Corben is, in a word, perfect. He is a totally chilled out baby...very little phases him. Even when he's hungry he gets a bit worked up, but it's nothing like the end of the world cries that Griffin had when he was a baby. The only thing he hates is being cold, and thus, being naked or anywhere even close to partially undressed. Other than that he's eating all day, waking only once or twice in the night to feed, and generally being adorable.

I have more to say about this whole second baby thing, but I think this post is quite long enough, so I'll just leave you with some pictures of the day, courtesy of Gretel.

Griffin "meets" Corben from Grandma and Grandpa's via Skype.

(If you came here via the Birth Story Blog Hop, you'll find the MckLinky here. Thanks for stopping by!)

Still waiting...

Well I'm not going to rant, but I'm also not going to make any birth announcements either.

We (mostly I) am STILL. PREGNANT.

Tomorrow I'm heading in for a little poking and prodding, in the hopes of getting something moving. It was supposed to be today, but another client at the practice beat me to labour. Our midwives have a fairly large catchment area, part of the fun of living in the sticks. They have hospital privileges at 2 hospitals, one which is a respectable 25 minutes away (where Griffin was born) and another which is a less respectable (especially in labour!) 75 minutes away. They were headed off to the 75 minute away one this evening, and had the scheduled poking and prodding been successful, I also would have had to head to said hospital if I wanted them to deliver my baby, or to the closer one where an OB would deliver the baby.

Neither of these options involve a $150.00 birthing tub (that we've already purchased) in my living room, which is where I am planning (hoping!) to eventually pop this kid out.

So we decided to reschedule.

And in the mean time, we wait. And watch The Hangover. I haven't got around to watching my weepy movie, but thought it may be more fun to try and laugh the baby out instead!

Good times, people, good times!

Over. Due.

I know, I know, I've heard it all.

"Baby will come when he's ready."

"It's only an ESTIMATED due date."

"I know how you feel."

"Just relax and rest, and before you know it, he'll be here."

Yup, heard it all. And I know it's all true. However, this is MY blog, and my place to rant, vent, post naked pictures of myself (HA! Had you scared there!) and do anything else I want. And since that's what I'm about to do, if you don't want to hear it, you best go now.

So. Now that half of you have left the room, for the other half, I have the current running tally of things we've tried, unsuccessfully obviously, to help convince baby to come out (even though I'm only 3 days overdue):

Homeopathic remedies (x3)
Acupuncture
Acupressure
Spicy foods (tonight at dinner, which I am currently paying for...heavily)
Pineapple
Basil
Oregano
Sex
Nipple stimulation
Evening Primrose Oil
Walking
Tractor riding
Eating copious amounts of chocolate (oh wait, that's just part of my daily routine)
Raspberry Leaf Tea
Sitting on the birthing ball for hours at a time
Deep relaxation

Obviously, none of these have worked, and friends, I am tired of being pregnant. I am tired of Tums, tired of peeing 7 times a night and the effort that it takes to haul myself out of bed each time, tired of my boobs hurting for no good reason (I might as well be breastfeeding 18 times a day if my boobs are going to hurt this much) and tired of shirts that only cover the top 3/4 of my abdomen.

Here's the list of things I have not tried, that are still in my arsenal, all of which I plan on busting out tomorrow:

Sending the kid back to daycare
Watching a weepy movie and having a good cry (am now taking suggestions...please know that it takes a damn sad movie to make me cry!)
Wear my fanciest underwear Buy some new fancy underwear that actually fits, cause sure as hell the moment I put them on, my water will break.

I KNOW baby will come when he's ready and 100% cooked. I KNOW every day he spends in there is good for him. I KNOW that he has to come eventually, and I won't be toting a preschooler around in my belly 3 years from now. But anyone who's done this before will hear me when I say IT DOESN'T MATTER!

Mama is ready, and 100% cooked too!

If you have anything helpful to say (like "I've heard that Baileys induces labour") please feel free to comment. If you have something not so helpful to say (like "maybe you'll be pregnant forever - just think of all the use you'll get out of your maternity clothes") then please refrain from opening your mouth, lest you wish to have my foot shoved in it.

And thus concludes my rant.

I love you all...thanks for listening! Cross your fingers that the next time you hear from us, it will be with a birth announcement, and not a crankier, even more overdue rant!

Peace out dudes.

Another exciting weekend

A weekend full of cooking (by Steve) baking (by me) and barfing (by Griffin.) 3 lasagnas, gallons of stock, about 300 cookies, and about 87 loads of laundry later, everything is back to normal. Griffin's 24 hour bug seems to have passed. The sheets on our bed were washed more this weekend than they have been all month (Griffin seems to prefer puking on our bed over anywhere else in the house.) Our freezer is full. Baby is still inside, and even though I thought he couldn't possibly get any lower in my pelvis, he seems to have dropped.

Good times ahead!

Incoming...

Well, we're battening down the hatches and preparing for the first "decent" storm of the season. I have my doubts that it will be anything too hefty, but everyone always gets so excited about the first big snow. The fact that we've made it till December 8th without a snow storm is a bit of a minor miracle. But now the tractor is tuned up, the gas tank is full, all the snow tires are on, the snow fence is up, and I'm crossing my fingers for enough of a deluge to warrant a snow day!

In other news, we're down to 23 days to go till the Cheese (supposedly) makes his first appearance. The midwives come this week to check out our digs and make sure we have all the necessary stuff for the home birth. I have 6 days of work left. The only thing we have left to do is to stock the freezer a bit (how did I forget that part?) and take the comfortable sheets off the bed and put the nasty ones on with the layer of plastic underneath. I'm leaving that till the last minute, because I have enough trouble getting in and out of bed, and rolling over in the night without a layer of plastic underneath me to slip-slide me around.

I'm still kicking myself on a daily basis for not buying stock in Tums when I found out I was pregnant.

The three year old of the house is being remarkably well behaved these days (or my tolerance level is higher because I figure at least he can express in full sentences what the issue is that's causing him to FREAK OUT and sob uncontrollably...and even if those issues are something as trivial as me sitting on his Spiderman, at least he can tell me what the trouble is, which is more than his little brother will be able to do.)

I'm treasuring every last morsel of sleep I can get, especially the morsels that come in 6 or 7 hour chunks, because we can soon kiss those goodbye. I'm enjoying my last days as a mother of one, and looking forward (with only slight trepidation) to being a mother of two.

And while I'm trying to enjoy these last few weeks, I'm also taking every available opportunity to milk my pregnant status, including going so far as taking a Starbucks card that was up for grabs in a family gift swap this weekend, and placing it atop my protruding belly, and then looking at my Starbucks-hungry cousin with sad, pregnant doe eyes, and pleading with him "don't take it away from the baby." Heck if it didn't work too!

So...that's about all that's occupying our brains these days, incoming snow and incoming babies.

Stay tuned...

Oh Christmas Tree

We enjoyed the loveliest of weekends.

Saturday morning: The morning ritual - couch, blanket, juice, grapes, and a show. Saturday morning - the advent calendar finally goes up...better late than never!Saturday afternoon: The long haul to London for the family Christmas party, and some snuggle with niece and nephew time. Sunday morning: The great Christmas Tree hunt. We got out of the car, walked for 5 minutes, found this beauty, chopped it down, and hauled it home. A whole lot better than last year's fiasco.

Saturday Afternoon: (Following a 90 minute nap for me.) Griffin took very little interest in actually decorating the tree when we got home, and was more interested in shelling pistachios and climbing the ladder, and tossing in the occasional "Wow, that looks weally gweat, Mom" comment, each of which earned him an additional present under the tree!This is quite possibly the best looking tree we've had yet, even though we cheated a slight tad and jacked up the bottom to give it some extra height (and, um, make room for the PRESENTS, of course!) The bottom is a bit sparse, since my brother and his three holy terrors darling angels under the age of three will be joining us for the holidays.
So, the shopping is done, the tree is up, and that means the baby can come. I would really, really enjoy giving birth in my fancy birthing pool in my very own living room, staring at this magical tree....

Lovin' every minute of it....

Because I know with 99.97% certainty that this is the last child I will ever grow in my belly, I am trying with all my might to enjoy these last few weeks of my pregnancy.

However, anyone who's ever grown a baby inside them knows that "enjoy" and "last month of pregnancy" are words that are rarely seen together in the same sentence.

Still, I'm trying. Trying to think of it less like a knee to the bladder, and more like the "tiny flutters of the miracle inside me." Resigning myself to not filling my lungs when I breathe anymore, because there's just no room for that, and my little munchkin obviously needs the space. Telling myself when I get up to pee for the 5th time in a night, that it really isn't that bad, especially when in a few weeks I'll be getting up every 2 hours and NOT going straight back to bed! And heck, what's a little continuious, going on 3 weeks in a row heartburn, when it's all in the name of the miracle of life.

Riiiiiight.

And so, we soldier on. At 35 weeks, with 5 weeks to go, I can now start counting days. (That'd be 34 days.) In the grand old scheme of things, 34 days is nothing. I have 12 days of work left....and THAT I can get on board with! And then a few weeks of rest, with a 1/2 a dozen appointments and, oh, Christmas thrown in there too, and before you know it, our kicking, poking, rib jabbing little miracle will be here!

HoHoHo, less than 6 weeks to go!

Posting in point form. Brain = dead. Body = deader.

6 weeks till baby. (That means 5 weeks till Christmas...best get shopping, peeps!)

We headed out to the Santa parade in Orangeville today. Griffin was thrilled to catch a glimpse of "Santa Closet." I took my camera, and left the memory card at home. Baby brain at it's finest, my friends.

I've been seeing a lot of shabby shabby Christmas lights up and on. People, if you're going to turn your lights on early (that means before December 1st,) at least make sure they look good.

My Christmas shopping...nearly done! And nearly all of it, done from my computer in my PJ's. That's my idea of successful shopping.

The weather is suspiciously warm. The snow is suspiciously absent. Does that mean we're going to get buried in December? You know, around the time that we're giving BIRTH??

I've reached my vertical limit for the day. Must get horizontal. Adios, amigos.

Countdown: Somewhere between 7 and 6 weeks....

I'm certain that there should be more going on in my life than working, and complaining about my pelvis, but that's really all there is. There's really not much room for much else when one gets up at 5:30 am, doesn't get home till 6pm, and is ready for bed by 8pm. Griffin hasn't been sleeping well these days, and neither have I (even when he is,) and Steve is putting in his last 2 weeks of long hours before having nearly 2 glorious months off. So generally things are a mite bit cranky around here. And heart-burny. And cough-y (going on 3 weeks for Steve.)

Good times.

All I want to do is park myself in bed with my laptop for a day, and christmas shop. On line. Get it all done, and feel better about at least checking one biggie off my list. We did get a chance to clean out the shed and put all the summer stuff away this past weekend (thrill a minute here, peeps!) and I'm glad that's done. Couldn't do a damn thing for the rest of the day because it totally wore me out, but at least it's done.

Now I'm just waiting for the snow fence fairies...seriously. Because snow fence is a 2 person job, and this person? Not so much up for hoofing massive rolls of snow fence across the fence into the neighbours field, and mucking around in the cow poop for an hour. Go figure.

Well, I've had about enough of me...likely you have too! Piss-and-Vinegar Central, over and out!

Countdown: 0.

In his quest to help expediate Baby's arrival Phelan tries to suck baby out through my ever expanding belly button!

Well, so much for the big old “Due Date.” What ever was due to happen, didn’t. A total bust. So we continue to wait.

I know that baby will show up when he’s good and ready. I know it’s no good rushing these things, and that nature needs to take it’s course. I also know that none of the people that are telling me all these things are carrying around a full grown baby in their pants! They don’t have to get up to pee 6 times a night (it’s the physical act of getting up that’s difficult, not the peeing!), nor are they suffering from heartburn, hemorrhoids, stretch marks, or any of the other fun things I’ve been enjoying. Easy for you to say people, I want the baby out!! It's like Christmas, and knowing that there is a big present waiting for you, and even kind of having a good idea of what's in it, and then being told on Christmas day that you have to wait till New Years to open it...sorry. That shit just doesn't fly around here!! Heck, we even open some on Christmas eve!

Patience is not a virtue which I excell in.

In my proactive quest to help convince baby to come on down, we took a little hike up to Murphy's Pinnacle today – a fantastic little spot along the Bruce Trail, atop the Mulmur hills, where the 360 degree view is really quite spectacular. It’s a pretty calm hike, mostly uphill there and downhill back, and worth every step. When the trees start to turn it will be even better…next time we’re taking our fancy backpack with picnic supplies and having lunch up there!

Until then, we continue in our waiting. We'll let you know!

Waiting for Baby

So we're waiting.

Because of all the uncertainty surrounding the hospital closures, we have gone ahead and made to preparations for a home birth, deciding that having the baby in our bedroom was preferable to driving 75 minutes to Newmarket in labour! Now, of course, because we have made said preparations, the hospital WILL be open this weekend! But now we have 6 new bath towels and a whole bunch of new face cloths, and several dozen "incontinence pads," all on the list of home birthing supplies that we needed to have on standby just in case. Not to mention a crock pot hanging out in our bedroom. If we don't have the baby at home, at least we're covered for any serious cases of sudden incontinence that may come our way (ours, or who ever decides to visit!)
We have been seriously enjoying our quiet home time for the last week and a half, trying to take on one task a day so at least we feel like we're getting something accomplished, instead of feeling like lazy sods. The rest of the day we relax, guilt free. It's glorious, and soon, it will all be over! We've watched more movies and episodes of Six Feet Under in the past 2 weeks than we have in months.

I'm down to one pair of pants that fits comfortably (one pair that I would been seen in public in anyway!) and am looking forward to opening the Box of Clothes That Don't Fit Anymore once this is over...realizing that it may be a while before I get back into them, but there's nothing like a little motivation in the form of a comfortable pair of jeans (instead of a pair that digs into my abdomen, dispite it's snazzy elastic waistband.)

Luckily, sleep is still possible, dispite the fact that in fear of my water breaking we put away our super dooper 800 thread count white sheets a few days ago and replaced them with crappy old gross sheets that slip off the bed after we've been in it for 2 hours, complete with noisy plastic sheet underneath (wouldn't want breaking waters to wreck our super sexy memory foam!) We are both looking forward to the return of the real sheets, these suck! There are also about twice as many pillows in the bed as there are occupants (including the dog, and the unborn baby), we are also looking forward to the banishment of at least half these pillows.

The end is in sight - we had a conversation with the midwife yesterday about just how long we're willing to go overdue. In the case that junior is still inside, we have an ultrasound scheduled for the 7th of September, and provided things are OK, they'll leave him in over the weekend, and start the process of inducing labour starting on the 10th. Daddy just may get a baby for his 40th birthday on the 11th!

Until then, we continue relaxing. Life's tough, but I think we can hack it!

Countdown: 1

Yesterday I had the pleasure of parking in one of those fabulous “Expectant Mother” parking spots – I figured now’s my chance! I had a tiny moment of guilt, like I was parking in a forbidden handicapped spot or something, because lets face it, I can certainly make the walk from 5 parking spots away from the Zellers entrance just as well as I can make the walk from 1 spot away, but then I thought the hell with it, I’m about as expectant as a mother can get. It’s not like I was parking there when I was 5 weeks pregnant or anything (but honestly, if I had known this particular Zellers had Expectant Mother parking, I may have stopped in there sooner to shop, solely for it’s parking pleasures.) Fortunately, not only is it Expectant Mother Parking, it’s Expectant and NEW Mother parking, so I can enjoy it’s pleasures over and over again. The Zellers in Alliston can add me to their faithful customer list. At least until the baby isn’t “New” anymore. When is that?

Our Midwife visit this week was likely NOT our last. Baby seems pretty cozy where he is, having descended about half the required amount before they consider him “engaged” and ready to rock. So he’s loitering near the exit, but he’s not quite ready to leave yet. Whatever – I can continue my relaxing and trashy novel ready for at least another week, I have no problem with that.

In other news (which I forgot to mention last week), last weekend we celebrated our 1 year houseiversary – one year of country bliss in our little home here on the roof. I love how momentous occasions such as this one can be tarnished in the blink of an eye by something as small as the arrival of the renewal of our house insurance policy! Happy Anniversary! You owe us a whole bunch of money, now fork it over!

Countdown:2

Also Known as "I so don't care because now that I'm done work I can sit on the porch all day drinking tea and the baby can stay in there till he's 5 for all I care!"

I reached a major milestone on Friday with the Last Day of Work. It's not that I don't enjoy my job, I just didn't enjoy the throbbing pain that crept up my back throughout the day, only to culminate in me arriving home at 5:30 crankier and more sore than the day before. Ah, but that's all over now. I no longer need to sit all day in an uncomfortable chair, and instead can relax in my preferred position (totally horizontal) drinking fake Becks and Uterine Toning Tea (who knew!?) and hopefully enjoy the next two weeks. Where as before I was praying for baby to come early, now I hope he can hold out a week or so, so I can have a chance to relax.

In other exiting news, this weekend the Hospital where we plan to give birth enjoyed a 4 day closure of the birthing unit! They've "lost" one of their OB's (they didn't say to what!) so when the other one decides to take the weekend off, they can't run the unit, so they close it! It seems to be an every other weekend thing, but doing the math, our due date falls on a weekend 2 weeks from now, a long weekend no less, so methinks the chances of Dr. I-don't-care-about-labouring-women-I-only-care-about-spending-the-weekend-on-my-boat being off that weekend and the birthing unit being closed are pretty gosh darn good! If this is the case, we get to take the 75 minute hike to Newmarket, which doesn't sound to pleasant to me now, and will likely sound less pleasant when the contractions are coming 5 minutes apart. 75 minutes, 5 minute apart contractions, that's about 15 contractions with nothing and no one to hold onto (we don't have those handles above the doors in the car - they tell me this very occasion is what they're made for...we may need to get a rental!) no changing position, and above all, NO PEEING!!! After watching Gretel pee after every single contraction, this thought fills me with dread and fear, especially for the upholstery in our car. Depends don't sound like such a bad invention right now....

We're reconsidering the idea of a home birth if the birthing unit is closed. It's something we'll chat with the midwives about this week and see if it's even a possibility. Which opens another whole can of worms!

As the end of this pregnancy draws nearer, and the reality of having a baby gets closer and closer every minute, I've decided that I'm really going to miss being pregnant. OK, I won't miss everything about being pregnant (smell ya later, Heartburn!!), but there are certain parts about it that I'll be sad to see go. The constant fluttering and groovin that happens in my belly is a really wonderful thing - having a constant companion 24 hours a day has it's joys. My usual cold blooded body is also enjoying the interior furnace effect, although I imagine the exterior furnace will heat in much the same way. My changing shape has been fascinating to experience, although I do look forward to having more than one pair of pants that fit properly! All in all, I have been incredibly lucky, have had few complaints, and only can hope that this easy pregnancy translates seamlessly into an easy birth, and a happy easy baby....One of the phrases that scare us the most these days is "like father, like son." Steve was a wee hellion when he was young...I fear for payback...

Countdown: 3 (but nearly 2.5 now!)

Dear Baby,

We hope you have enjoyed your stay at Hotel Utero. We would like to remind you that when you originally took tenancy, we came to the agreement that your move-out date would be August 31st. This is just a friendly reminder that this date is quickly approaching. We can’t help but notice that you have made little preparations for this move as far as we can see. If there is anything we can do to be of assistance in this matter, please let us know. While we have enjoyed having you stay at Hotel Utero, we think that you (and your Mother) may be more comfortable if you would kindly move on. Since we have enjoyed your stay so much, we have taken the liberty of sourcing out a future home for you. We think you’ll be quite satisfied!

Should you wish to vacate Hotel Utero before the 31st of August, we would be happy to accommodate your needs.

Yours Truly,
Mom and Dad

Countdown: 4

Things are motoring along just nicely here at Heartburn Hotel these days. After an activity filled weekend we are now enjoying the hazy lazy days of summer. The much welcomed thunderstorm that arrived last night with great fanfare and a hell of a light show did a fantastic job of breaking the heat wave that we’ve been suffering through for the past 5 days, and has taken the temperature down to a comfortable 22, instead of an uncomfortable 45, which was just about the closest thing to hell on earth that I have ever experienced!! For the first time in our country lives up here on the roof, we spent a good chunk of the night without Hydro, which was actually most enjoyable. A few games of Jenn Slaughters Steve (aka Gin Rummy) by candlelight was most enjoyable.

Baby continues to practice his dance moves – I think the storm last night caused him to do a little back flip, as he now seems to be facing the other way – where there were formerly feet there is now something bum like, and where bum like was before, there seems to be feet. This will give my right side organs a well deserved break, while the left side ones are in for the time of their lives! As long as he stays head down, he can do whatever he wants in there, because we’re not interested in anything that comes out feet (or bum) first!

This weekend was activity filled inside and out. Mr Big Tractor man showed up on Saturday and proceeded to cut all the wheat in the field behind us. He must have figured out we were new ‘round these parts when I sat on the porch and took about a dozen pictures of him and his large contraption. Fricking city folks, never seen a tractor before??!!



Steve’s mom sent us a little list of lessons we were about to learn in the near future as the parents of a little boy, and I think I’ll share a few as they almost made both Steve and I pee our pants (and shake in horrified anticipation all at the same time!)

-If you hook a dog leash over a ceiling fan, the motor is not strong enough to rotate a 42 pound Boy wearing Batman underwear and a Superman cape. It is strong enough, however, if tied to a paint can, to spread paint on all four walls of a 20x20 ft. room.
-You should not throw baseballs up when the ceiling fan is on. When using a ceiling fan as a bat, you have to throw the ball up a few times before you get a hit. A ceiling fan can hit a baseball a long way.
-When you hear the toilet flush and the words "uh oh", it's already too late.
-Brake fluid mixed with Clorox makes smoke, and lots of it.
-A six-year old Boy can start a fire with a flint rock even though a 36-year old Man says they can only do it in the movies.
-Play dough and microwave should not be used in the same sentence.
-No matter how much Jell-O you put in a swimming pool you still can't walk on water.
-Garbage bags do not make good parachutes.
-Always look in the oven before you turn it on; plastic toys do not like ovens.
- The spin cycle on the washing machine does not make earthworms dizzy.
- It will, however, make cats dizzy.
- Cats throw up twice their body weight when dizzy.
- 80% of Women who read this will pass this on to almost all of their friends, with or without kids….80% of Men who read this will try mixing the Clorox and brake fluid.

Lord Help us All.

Countdown: 5

This has been, to say the least, an eventful week.

On Friday morning, the day after we repaired Chewy The Mystery Rodent’s damage to our car, we went about our usual morning routine, which includes enjoying our morning brew on the front porch while the dog romps and sniffs and does his own morning business. This morning his routine was rather different, as he bee-lined it for the car, and began jumping on the hood of the car and whimpering at it. Figuring that Chewy may have returned, we popped the car hood, only to meet Chewy himself, just chillin under the hood of our car:

Chewy is a groundhog. One who was quite happy and comfortable under the hood of our car, and one who did not take kindly to our attempts to evict him, which included starting the car, spraying him with water and loudly yelling obscenities at him.

(Notice the bared teeth)

We eventually decided that Chewy would be best served to remain under the hood for the trip into Orangeville, until my arrival there, at which point I would procure a large pointy object, and attempt to convince him again that our car was not the best place for him to live. Chewy, thinking otherwise once I put the car into gear and began the journey down the driveway, hopped out and ran helter skelter to his safe haven in the ground.

Fast Forward to Saturday Evening...

Turns out Chewy never made it to his hole. We found him, stiff as a board, about 4 feet from his hole on Saturday night. Chewy won’t be chewing on our car any more. We’re not sure why he died – could have been the trauma, could have been the prospect of moving to Orangeville…that would give me a heart attack too. Anywho, we gave him a little burial, and said so long to Chewy, with a little bit of sadness in our hearts. But not too much, since he did cost us $75.00.

Our next adventures were Saturday and Sunday, where we spent the days at Baby Boot Camp. A weekend long prenatal class, with a fantastic instructor, there was no beating around the bush when it came to anything to do with labor or babies. With practice coaching sessions, relay games of boys against girls to see who diapers and swaddles the baby the fastest (the boys won!), and infinite Pearls of Wisdom such as “Fear Not the Butt Hole!” (in reference to bathing the baby), we had a hoot for the entire weekend! To top it all off, the instructor owns a store where all the classes are held, so at the end of the weekend you can blow all your hard earned dollars on tons of baby gadgets and gizmos that you are totally convinced you need after the weekend camp….can you say smart marketing strategy, boys and girls? We only fell for it a little bit, purchasing a few missing attachments to our uber breast pump (turns out we were handed down a top of the line $400 pump!) and a few other essentials. But we came home on Saturday night and packed our holy shit bags for real, and strapped the car seat in the car, as we were warned that “somebody in the class will have their baby next week.” Egads….since we were one of only 3 couples due in August, we decided the odds weren’t that great in our favor and heeded the advice.

Since that piece of advice on the weekend, I have entered full panic mode, and am intent on finishing up all the last details of baby prep. Steve is humoring me nicely, and we’ve made an extensive list of all the things to do. I’d like them done by the end of the weekend – this is the goal! We did finish the cradle this week, Steve’s folks ordered us a super crib that is to be arriving this week, and things are happening at lightening speed around here. We’ll let you know how things go this weekend!

On the list of things that died this week, Our Little Green “Nothing Runs Like a Deere” Lawnmower died for good. Certified by Greg the Lawnmower fix-it man. That’s all I have to say about that – I don’t wanna talk about it.

In the meantime, my belly seems to be at capacity. I have no idea how there is any more room to grow anything in there. But Dude is still dancing it up in there, and has taken to stretching out occasionally, which results in his big ol’ feet jabbing me in some unidentified (but assuredly necessary) organ. I think it’s my kidneys! Considering that at 5’10” tall, I am the shortest in my family, I have a feeling he may be a bit of a long one. The other “enjoyable” side effect that I have become resigned to is the almost constant heart burn. I purchased the largest size bottle of Rolaids that money can buy today, as I’m getting tired of hunting around in my purse for those little half rolls of them.

We certainly feel “ready” after this weekend, as ready as we’ll ever be. We have a much more accurate (and somewhat frightening) picture of what the first two weeks will be like. The Transition phase of Labour (which our Prenatal Instructor compared to “hell on earth”) is going to suck the most, and the first week or two of baby’s life will likely run a close second in the category. For someone who can function on little to no sleep, it will likely be not so bad. I am not one of those people. Neither is Steve. I have a feeling that neither is Dudley. But we’ll suck it up, and forgo everything else (with the exception of food) in the first few weeks, and get it over with. I imagine that the joy and love that we’ll feel for the little super-pooper will (mostly) outweigh the lack of sleep. In the meantime, we continue to nest, and chew Rolaids, and enjoy our last few weeks of being a carefree couple with a spoiled dog.

Countdown:6

If anybody else tells me the story of how "my first baby arrived 3 weeks (or 2 weeks, or whatever) early," I'm going to throttle them. Or their horrible birth stories. Or the terrible baby related thing they saw on TV last night. What compels people to share these stories with pregnant women? They should know better than to terrorize a woman who has piles of raging hormones coursing through her veins, not to mention a very protective husband in the background. Silly silly people, you're going to get hurt!

Today we took our wee Sunfire in to have her tire fixed. A simple flat tire, should be no more than a $20.00 patch job, somehow manages to turn into $420.00. I feel like every time I bring my car in for service, however minor it may be, I should just come in with about $500 in cash and throw it at them, and tell them to take what they need. You're due for a brake inspection (and we were, I'll admit that) Well, it comes "free" with a tire rotation, you should get that done. The back brakes need to be cleaned. The front brakes need new pads. Joey the mechanic, well his kids need braces! Sure, we have one of those money trees growing in our back yard, no problem!

The kicker was the speedometer (the thing that tells Steve if he's doing 20, 30, or 40 kms over the speed limit) and the odometer weren't working this morning, and the car was having a hard time shifting gears. Greg The Service Guy ensured us that this was likely a result of the spare tire being on. He calls me at 4:00 this afternoon to inform me that the wire that connects the whoozijig to the whatsitsnut is actually the cause. Something has eaten it.

"Eaten it?" I say.

"As in, literally, pulled up to it, slathered on some condiments, and chowed down on it?"

"Yup" says Greg.

Happens all the time apparently. People have critters building nests, making homes, living inside their engines, and feasting on all their foreign car parts. Not in our car! Anything that wants to live in our car or start eating my whoozijig wires is going to have to pay rent, or get a fricking job! They owe us at least $75 bucks for the wires, and some back rent too!

Oh, and something fell off the lawnmower the other night, and now it wont cut. Fricking vermins. They're probably eating the lawnmower too.

Ah, life in the country! Aint it Grand!!

Countdown: 7 (well, closer to 6.5)

Steve and I just returned from what is likely to be our last “foray” as just the 2 of us. A 4 day camping trip (forced relaxation) at McGregor Point Provincial Park, about 30 minutes north of Kincardine. We even left the dog with “Uncle Darren” just so we could have some toddler free relaxation time.

Camping is something I have always enjoyed, and something that Steve has apparently loathed for many of his adult years. I convinced him to go with visions of manly pursuits (cooking over an open fire), lazy days (reading in a hammock for hours on end), sunsets on the beach, and other adventures maybe not fit to mention in a family forum. The entire trip was most enjoyable.

Living in close proximity to other families for a few days, with nothing to separate you from them but a few trees is an interesting experiment. You can learn a lot about people from their ways of living, and camping. What I was fascinated by the most is the differences in the way people treat their children. The family to the rear of us was a couple with a boatload of kids, 4 I think, ranging in age from 7 to baby. Loud Voice Family spent a lot of time hollering at the kids and fighting about various things, there was a lot of crying. Screamy McYelly Family moved in on the other side on our last day there. 3 couples with a whole mess of kids, that got plugged into a laptop or something to watch a movie while the parents sat around the campfire and got drunk, and screamed at the kids to shut up, and screamed at eachother to do this and do that and where the heck is the this, and what the hell did you do with that, and children crying I want this, and do that and so on. And then Sweet little Blond Family replaced Loud Voice Family on the last day. 4 kids that we never heard a peep out of. Not one. Steve even watched the little boy tumble off the picnic table – not a sound out of him – Mom and Dad just went and picked him up (because they were paying attention to him and saw him fall) and brushed him off and off he went on his merry way. I watched one of the little girls entertain herself for a goodly amount of time talking to an oven mitt (like a puppet, not like a deranged 5 year old!) They sat around the campfire and sang songs at night with some other families that they were there with. No laptops. No Yelly McScreamy. Imaginations and good ol fashioned family fun.

I spend a lot of time thinking about how I want our family to be. I know that you only have control of so much. Sometimes you can do the best you can do and raise your kids the best way you know how, and your children will still turn out to be hellions. That’s what scares me.

Countdown:8

This week we're coming to you from the offices of Steve Lucas Design, housed in our very own drywalled and painted basement! Upstairs chaos ends. Downstairs chaos ending in progress. It's a glorious glorious thing!

This week has been a pretty fantastic week. Most are around here, but this one just seemed better. We worked our tails off this week, and are enjoying lavishing in the rewards. It helped that Kendra showed up on Saturday, and dove into the painting like the true superstar that she is!

Our cinema is back up and running, and better than ever. And it's now RED, which makes it sexier than ever too. I've done some sewing this week in my new and improved Sewing Room, with a new layout, new calming colour, and improved storage shelving. Even doing laundry is better in the new Yellow Laundry Room. The workshop is a disaster, but we can't have everything perfect right away! And SLD is making serious progress, with fancy shelving for displaying the millions of models, storage shelving for old show files, sexy under the shelving lighting and this very computer, hooked up to the internet, with a monitor bigger than my head...bigger than my belly and my head combined even (in typical Steve fashion!) Even the outdoors have made leaps and bounds this week. The grass is cut and beautiful, the trimming is done, and with our new weekwacker knocking down everything that's had all summer to grow tall and lush, it looks really quite lovely outside! We dug up another veggie garden tonight (sadly, so that I could replant the herbs that I had to take out of the collapsed herb garden - not EVERYTHING is sunshine and roses here folks!) Generally, life is Grand!

Belly continues to expand, and baby continues to perfect his gymnastics moves. I placed a gdiaper order this week - a new flushable diaper that we're going to give a try. Unfortunatly they are an American company with product not yet available in Canada, but my Underground Diaper Network Connections will get them on Canadian soil with little trouble (not to mention shipping charges!) on my part, and we thank them for their efforts!

I washed all the baby clothes I had in my posession this week - here's a question - why does baby laundry detergent smell so much better than normal laundry detergent? I mean, if everyone walked around wearing clothes that smelled like this stuff, I think the world would be a happier, huggier, cuddlier place. There's just something about the smell that makes you want to grab the clothes and squeeze them tight and snuggle up on the couch with them. Of course, it could be the raging pile of hormones coursing through my body..thats more likely the case!

Countdown: 9

Single digits here we go!

One night this week I had a very difficult time getting comfortable in bed, and thought to myself “this is the beginning of the end.” Our friend Sandra said that when she was pregnant she had a very distinct moment where she recognized that she was uncomfortable with her size and stature, and with movement in general, and that it remained that way until the baby made it’s way out. I fear that moment is in the not so distant future. I’m just starting to become uncomfortable at times, and when I realized that this baby was likely to DOUBLE in size from now until he’s born, I just about cried. At about 4 lbs now, babies generally gain about a ½ pound a week in the last 8 weeks. Egads! If I thought I was uncomfortable now, I should likely just shut my trap and hold out for later!

In other news, dear husband has returned from the fair country of Blyth, to me and our disaster of a home, which we plan on righting by the end of the weekend. A few more coats of paint on a few more walls, and we can start hauling stuff back into the basement where it belongs! Out of the living room, out of the dining room, out of the bedroom, off of the porch and lets get some fricking order happening around here because we’re HAVING A BABY IN 9 WEEKS!!!

As far as baby goes, we do have the “basics” on hand – diapers, sleepers, a change table, and various other accoutrements that they tell me I need. The contents of the Holy Shit Bag (as in “Holy Shit, The Baby is Coming, Take Me to the Hospital NOW!) have been mostly collected, and as soon as I dig out a bag from the heap of crap in the living room, we’ll have that ready to go.

I fear for babies that don’t stick to timelines – I have a frightening feel of dread that this baby is going to show up early just to mess with me. I’m a planner, right down to the core. I don’t work well with “spur of the moment” or “lets be spontaneous.” I like to be able to see clearly on my calendar what life looks like for at least the next 3 months. I prefer 6 months. But the fact that this baby could decide to rear it’s head (and hopefully it IS his head that rears first, cause breach births don’t exactly sound like a pleasant way to spend a long weekend) at any time, technically between now and the middle of September, is throwing me for a total loop. We have friends who’s baby decided to come on out at 30 weeks. 30 weeks!!?? That’s like, last week!! I’m not ready! I’m not physically ready, mentally ready, or any other kind of ready that there may be! But when 2 semi-anal Virgos plan on making a baby, that for all intents and purposes should be another semi-anal Virgo (just the way we planned), you’d think the baby would at least have the decency to stick to the plan, him being a Virgo-To-Be and all. Don’t mess with the plan kid, don’t mess with the plan.