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.

Bust

Well, it's only 9:47pm, and I don't want to speak too soon, but its looking pretty certain that this whole "due date" thing is officially a bust.

Humph.

Consider me unimpressed.

Today's Update

Last night, after hauling ass up to Griffin's bedroom for the umpteenth time, I headed back down the stairs only to miss (or something) and went butt first down about 1/2 a dozen stairs. After Steve's heart rate returned to normal, the dog settled back down again, and I determined that I was OK, I got a little bit excited thinking that maybe this would kick start baby's arrival.

No such luck.

In fact, we just returned from the midwife who said that things are still "closed for business" down there.

Great.

However, the episode did result in a very adorable little chat with Griffin this morning:

G: Mommy, what happened with you and the stairs last night?

M: Mommy fell down a few of the stairs.

G: Where did you get hurt?

M: It hurt a little bit all over, but Mommy didn't hurt anything specific.

G: (Slightly confused) But I need to give you a kiss...where can I kiss you better??

My kid is too damn cute!

And since I've been slightly slack on picture sharing, here's a few shots from our toboggan and torch adventure!

Griffin and I get our paws on the Olympic Spliff Torch!

Post Christmas Update

Just in case you've been sitting at home, wondering what the heck is happening here on the Roof with impending babies and all that jazz, I thought I'd pop over and update you.

Here's what's happening:

Nothing.

We had a lovely Christmas, including Christmas eve with the immediate family, which as you know includes my brother's trio of terror, which was actually really wonderful! Christmas day was a bit quieter with just the grandparents still around, and yesterday we hauled to Toronto for the big family gathering of cousins, aunts and uncles. Griffin has been adorable and remarkably good over the past few days, except for the few occasions when the No Nap Monster reared it's ugly, ugly head. Now we're back home again, eating leftovers until we burst, and waiting for the Cheese to make an appearance.

So far, there has been absolutely no "signs" that the Cheese is on his way anytime soon. I'm taking all my little homeopathic meds, drinking my raspberry tea (which gives me heartburn!) and alternating between naps and trying to walk about a bit and letting gravity do it's job. Unfortunately, Cheese seems to be situated in such a way that if I walk for too long, I get these sharp shooting pains down my leg, which everyone seems to think is just him pressing on a nerve down there in my nether regions. Ah, getting on my nerves already! (HA!)

And so we wait. And eat. And enjoy the last few days together as a family of three. The weather outside hasn't been particularly kind for playing, but I'm hoping we can get some tobogganing in in the next few days (and by we I mean Steve and G, while I sit comfy at the bottom of the hill with my camera and a latte!) Other than that we have no plans, which is actually rather refreshing!

I have a camera full of pictures that I may just get to today...if I can make time between naps!

Hope your Christmas was everything you wished for!

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...

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!

Sad state of affairs.

Dudes.

It's official.

I am officially uncomfortable. Like the majority of the time.

And holy hell am I exhausted!

I feel like I'm missing stuff here. Last time around I was all fresh and chipper, had a weekly countdown to baby for the last 10 weeks. We're nearly at 7 weeks now, not a single countdown post in sight. These days, I'm lucky if I can get my pants on in the morning.

Saturday was the 4th anniversary of my Dad's passing. I traditionally do a remembrance post, complete with photographs and all. However, that requires figuring out the new scanner, which is all the way downstairs, and I can hardly bear the thought of that much brainpower combined with that many stairs. I miss you Dad...you were in my thoughts all day.

Today is also Remembrance Day. I can't even muster up the brain strength to write something touching and remembery. I can't even come up with a word better than "remembery," which I'm quite sure isn't even a word.

Pathetic.

In baby news, baby had a growth spurt these past 2 weeks (tell me about it) and is riding LOOOOOOOW. Like head way down in the pelvis low. Like it's not a wonder I'm in pain and waddling around like a duck.

Considering baby's position, I'm glad we're mostly ready.

Home birthing supplies? Mostly check. Baby clothes? Mostly check. Diapers? Check. Car seat? In the spare bedroom, which is one step better than the basement. I'll take care of the food for the kid, and I think we're about ready. Really that's about it, right? (Please someone tell me that's about it!)

Oh, jury is still out on a name. We're starting to think "The Cheese" might be a good permanent name after all, or just T.C. for short.

5 more weeks of work (at 4 days a week...phewf.)

6 weeks till Christmas.

7 more weeks till baby? Seriously?

Please gawd, make it fly by!

Growing Up

Can I tell you something? Something I almost can't believe? (Something that I'm a little afraid to even mention for fear of jinxing it?)

After 3 years and one month on this planet, my son, my beautiful mischievous charming son has finally found it within himself, to fall asleep all on his own. Nobody snuggling next to him until he's sound asleep. He just does it. We read 3 books. We snuggle for 10 minutes or so, and talk about our respective days. And then I kiss him and squeeze him tight, say goodnight, tell him I love him one more time ("I wuv you too Mommy") and away I go.

And he falls asleep. Just like that.

Some part of me knew this day would come. A tiny part of me thought it never would. A big part of me really hoped it came before I had two munchkins to put to bed at night.

And here we are.

Tonight, he even ASKED to go to bed. It was 6:45. He said "it's your turn, Mommy?" (Daddy and I take turns putting him to bed.) I said yes, but told him he had about a half an hour to play with his toys before it was bed time. "No, I wanna go bed now."

Um....ok!

And off we went.

I'm so proud of the little turkey for finally figuring this out. For getting past whatever it was that made him hold onto us so tightly until he just couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. At the same time, I'm a little sad...my baby is growing up, right before my eyes.

But, just in time to be the best big brother a little cheeseball ever had!

A Past my bedtime update

The dress? Done, like dinner. And it fits. And the bride is happy!

Phewf

My kid?

Cute as ever (just in case you were wondering.) Cheeseball?

Fat. (Or is that me?) Whatevs.

Me?

Heartburntastic. I think it may have a direct co relation to the fact that I've run out of ice cream. Seriously. I was eating a ton of ice cream there for a while, and no heartburn. Now, no ice cream, and the heart burn is back. Humph. Must remedy.

Also me?

I seem to have developed a bit of a waddle over the weekend. Hooray.

And me again?

Going to bed.

Happiness: Birthdays and Babies

Today is Steve's birthday. Sadly, he's not here to share it with us! We tried to get a decent, in focus, everyone smiling picture for him this morning, and this is what we ended up with:

Oh well, we tried! Happy Birthday my love, we can't wait to see you so very very soon!

And in other big news, Cheeseball finally decided to play for the camera, and the results are in on the pink or blue test. The result?

Peeps, Cheeseball is a boy! One hundred percent, no doubt about it, boy!

I have to say, I'm a bit shocked. Mostly because I was so totally convinced it was a girl. Then again, I was convinced Griffin was a girl too until that first ultrasound. So much for mother's intuition!

Now that the shock has wore off, I've begun to get quite used to the idea of being a Mama to 2 boys. I honestly don't think I'm equipped to handle teenage girls anyway, so I think this is a blessing in disguise! The only trouble is, we had a girly name all picked out, and now baby is nameless. We're open to suggestions - a name that's unique, but not too much so. I like names that you've certainly heard before, but ones that you don't hear to often. There will be no strange spellings of said name, no y's where i's should be, or similar shenanigans!

And while I was initially disappointed about having to bypass the pink section in the fabric store for the rest of my life, I decided to hell with it, I'm going to buy it all anyway and sew to my heart's content, and then just sell it all for millions of dollars! Plus I decided today to start a quilt for the Cheese in chocolate brown and red, and that's SO NOT green and blue, and that gets me just a little bit excited!

So here's to Happy Birthdays, and happy bouncing baby boys!

Happiness:: Profile

Today, my silhouette makes me very happy!

Dear Cranky Ultrasound Tech

Do you remember why you wanted to be an ultrasound tech? Was it because you wanted to help people? Was it because you wanted to see young women's faces light up when they saw their unborn baby for the first time? Or heck, even if you did it for the money, maybe you could try thinking about all those wonderful things when you wake up to go to work in the morning, instead of being a cranky bee-yotch.

Just because you may not be thrilled that I'm having a baby, maybe you could take a moment to think about the fact that I am. Maybe you could start our 45 minute session with a "hello," or even a "how are you today?" Even if it's not that funny, you could consider laughing at my jokes about how badly I have to pee, because heck, it's a little bit funny to see a pregnant woman waddle down the hall, barely holding her 14 litres of water in. (It's not funny that said pregnant woman was made to wait nearly 45 minutes with her teeth swimming, but we won't get into that.)

You could think about saying "you're welcome" when I thank you profusely for the WARM blue gel stuff that you put on my belly, instead of the normal icy cold version. You might try making a bit of conversation while we sit together in a tiny room for 45 minutes. You could not make me feel afraid to ask questions, or make me feel dumb when I do. You could try smiling once in a while.

I realize that you have a job to do, and you're not there to make friends with me, but please try and consider what this moment of seeing an unborn baby means to a young mother, and try to be a little bit happy about it. I mean heck, if you can't find any joy in a job as cool and potentially wonderful as yours, then maybe it's time to look for another job.

(Try looking on some job sites under "cranky bee-yotch.")

xoxox
Me

P.S. Not only did I not like you, it was obvious that my baby felt the same way, since all s/he would show you was her ASS, and not the parts that would let us tell what colour fabric I should be shopping for. Maybe that's a hint. (Maybe s/he was farting on you!!)

18 weeks

I've been having a few days where I've been getting a lot of "you hardly even look pregnant" comments, and was starting to feel a bit down about it. I mean, heck, I'm 18 1/2 weeks along, nearing the 1/2 way mark, and I hardly look pregnant? C'mon!

Cheeseball must of heard them talking, because I swear she just had a major growth spurt. I've been heading to the kitchen around 11pm every night since I've been home, ravenous, like I haven't eaten all day. Now? Now I look pregnant!

Doing it for the baby

I got told today by the midwife that I wasn't gaining enough weight. I'm not exactly sure of my pre-pregnancy weight on their crazy, WAAAY out of whack (as in 10 lbs heavier than mine!) scale, but it appears that I've gained somewhere in the neighbourhood of 3 lbs in the past 16 weeks.

Apparently, not enough.

And so, for the sake of my unborn child, I am going to go and eat the 1/2 an apple pie that's in my fridge.

Maybe with ice cream.

After all, I'm doing it for the baby!

Betrayed by a Bicycle

We went camping this weekend.

And I had a fight with my bike. My new bike. My Mother’s Day present.

Yeah, well, it betrayed me.

So the front fender was loose, and we knew this, and I rode the bike and it was fine. But apparently if I hit a bump, said loose fender rotates forward, enough so that the bottom of it is touching the front wheel. Touching it enough that it actually stops the wheel.

As you well know, a bike coming to a dead stop WHILE you are riding it, and without your permission, is not a good thing.

So the bike stopped. Me, and my friend Momentum, sadly did not.

Fortunately, there was something there to stop me. Unfortunately it was the road.

So I’m a bit worse for wear. I have some decent road rash on my hands and my right elbow, which took a good part of my fall. My left thigh took the rest. Oh, and my right knee took a bit. And this morning I realized that maybe so did my ribs.

I think a hot tub would cure me, but since I’m also PREGNANT that’s not allowed. So a hot bath and some Arnica are coming my way. And maybe a visit to the chiropractor. And maybe a call to the midwife too, just to be safe. Luckily, my brain did seem to kick in in the 0.7 seconds it took for this all to happen, and I managed to protect my growing Cheeseball when I fell.

I also don’t think that the FREEZING cold air that surrounded me as I slept in the tent that night particularly helped.

But enough of my complaints, how about pictures!

THIS is the life!

The whole gang...many still in motion and a bit blurry!

How gorgeous is my baby boy?

All eyes on the Jiffy Pop!

Too tired to even watch the "fireworks!"

See Ya!

Dear First Trimester,

Don't let the door hit you in the arse on the way out!

So long, suckah!

xoxox
Mama and the Cheeseball

Wordy Thursday, or "Wheee! I finally can talk about the baby!"

So, it's really really true.

We're having a baby!

At first I wasn't so sure. I mean, you pee on a 5$ stick and you have to trust that little stick for a whole 12 weeks that you're actually knocked up. That's one of the reasons we opted for the first ultrasound....I wanted PROOF that what was making my pants not fit was indeed a tiny human, and not just a big ball of crunchy cheezits, those little things that I CANT. STOP. EATING since I became pregnant.

We have christened the baby Cheeseball. I thought about making it fancy, and calling it "Petite Fromage" instead, but Cheeseball just rolls off the tongue so nicely. We shall call her cheeseball until she gets a real name. (And yes, we have a few name ideas. And no, I'm not going to tell you what they are!)

You may have also noted that I'm calling the baby a she. I'm saying it out loud, I think it's a girl. And until I'm proven wrong by an ultrasound or a baby boy bursting out of me on delivery, baby will remain a she. I feel different, my shape is different, and I REALLY want a little girl!

We're hoping little Cheeseball is punctual, and comes on her actually due date of January 1st. First, because it was my dad's birthday and it would be a great way to honour him, and second, because I could really use a new toaster! Do they still do that? Give toasters to the first baby of the year? I'd settle for a microwave too. Or a blender. What makes them (whoever "they" are) think that small appliances are the appropriate way to honour the first baby of the year? The only thing I remember wanting as a new mother was a pair of pants that fricking fit, and a bra big enough to hold my massive hooters!

So there you have it - our big excitement! I'll try not to bore you with talk of stretch marks and pants that don't fit, but when your pants are digging into your expanding waist in the most painful way, it's hard to think about much else!

Wordless Wednesday - How we'll be ringing in the New Year