Shades of Brown

Two-Timer

2006-05-12T13:00:00.000-07:00

I did something.

Something I thought I could not do.

All by myself.

And it feels good.

I have moved my blog!

For a while I have been feeling the urge to get away from Blogger and learn more about how to really customize my site. But I just felt so clueless. Really, I am an html dummy, through and through.

I had looked into some hosting companies to see what prices would be like to start my own blog, one that was powered by Movable Type (the stuff the cool kids use). The cost seemed reasonable.

Yesterday, just for fun, I wanted to see what domain names would be available, should I decide to move.

I tested out www.kickyboots.com

And it was available.

I took that as a sign.

So, I paid my money, got a few emails from the host and set to attempting the creation of my new page.

I wanted to wait until it looked all polished and jaunty and unique and smashing.

That has not happened yet.

It's still pretty bare bones and cookie cutterish.

I'm hoping to make it better each day. So far, I've added links and manipulated my sidebar a little. It may not sounds like much, but it's a big deal for an internet fool like myself.

I hope you enjoy the new site! Update your links and I hope you enjoy my debut at www.kickyboots.com

Unplugged

2006-05-11T09:55:00.000-07:00

I am feeling much better today. Still stuffy and needing to snort and hork every few minutes, but at least my brain isn't clouded with mucous any more. I can actually focus on the tasks at hand and think about what to make for dinner tonight. Last night as I laid sprawled on the couch, all I could think of was how a slurpee would make me feel better. The cool, icey goodness would soothe my throat and the sugar rush would give me a dose of energy. So I begged Steve to drive to 7-11 and get me one. After some prodding, some puppy dog eyes, and a slight guilt trip ("I'm sick. And pregnant!") he hopped in the truck and got one for me.

I've got to milk the pregnany card for all it's worth. Only 9 more weeks of being doted on and blaming my chub on the baby. Soon everyone will be oohing and ahhing over the cutest baby the world has ever known, and I will be forgotten.

The novelty of being pregnant has worn off for me. I am still awed by the alien movements in my abdomen and how miraculous it all is, but the initial thrill of "Look at me! I have a bump! It's cute! Touch the bump! Unless you're creepy! Look, I'm blooming! I'm round and adorable!" has diminished slightly.

I now look in the mirror and stare at my swollen tummy, thinking, "Yep. That thing is huge."

I am just feeling more and more ready to actually meet our baby girl and wrap her up in her new, soft quilt and change her pooey diapers and put her in a white onesie and take her to the beach and go for walks with her in the stroller while she looks at the clouds for the very first time.

Raw Nostrils, Chin Zits, and a Half-Day Off

2006-05-10T17:17:00.000-07:00

There is the sound of heavy breathing.
And it's coming from me.
Because my nose is so clogged all I can do is pant from my mouth. I caught Steve's cold and it's been hanging on for dear life. I started getting a sore throat on Saturday and now I'm on day four of sinus congestion, bleary eyes, a cloudy head, and a short fuse. It's one time that I don't enjoy working with people, because everyone who comes into the office or calls me on the phone exclaims, "Oh, do you have a cold?"
Yes. Yes, I do.
I appreciate their concern, but when you hear it dozens of times a day all it does is remind you that yes, you feel crappy, and yes, you're still at work even though you'd rather be sleeping the snot away.
I only worked until noon today then swung by the video store and made a pit stop at Shoppers Drug mart for some Vick's VapoRub to smear on my raw nostrils. Upon coming home I heated up some leftovers, dragged my body pillow out to the couch, lubed up my nose with the sweet burn of eucalyptus, and didn't move for the duration of the afternoon. It was nice to relax, but now I just feel kind of yucky, like I should fold some laundry or go for a walk, but I don't want those things enough to actually do them.

Where's My Ginger Beer?!

2006-05-09T11:44:00.000-07:00

"Good morning, Summerland Baptist Church."

"Hello there. I just threw up and need someone to bring me some ginger ale. Canada Dry."

Will do.

I field some of the strangest calls here. Fun times.

Visits

2006-05-08T18:48:00.000-07:00

This weekend Kristin and Martin came from Calgary for a visit. Though the journey was long and their stay short, it was a wonderful treat to see them. This was my second time meeting Martin; the first was back in November at a time when he and Kristin were "just friends". They have since started dating and it was so great to see how gently he touches her back, how they're always cuddling and whispering to each other, and how happy he makes her. She deserves it.
It struck me how much things have changed since the onset of our friendship. We used to be ratty-haired little kids munching on popcorn while watching Full House and now we are grown women with lives taking shape. Kristin will be graduating from university next year and I'll be bouncing a baby on my lap in no time.
WHAT THE HECK?
On Saturday we had Jen and Jordan over for a BBQ with Kristin and Martin and it was so nice to sit on the deck, enjoy good food, watch Abby be a ham, and see the sun go down on the orchard.
I did nothing to deserve this: a wonderful husband, friends who love me unconditionally, a view of the lake, a baby kicking me in the ribs as I type this.
But I'll take it.
All of it.
And be very, very thankful.

Say It Ain't So

2006-05-08T09:49:00.000-07:00

The stretch marks? They're here.

Just the beginning hints of them, but there's no denying their arrival.

I was hoping to simply reuse the stretch marks I had acquired during puberty, but my body seems to feel the need to add to my collection.

The scary thing is that I've still got 9.5 weeks to go and my belly is going to get a LOT bigger yet.

Hello, one-piece bathing suits.

Good-bye, low rise jeans.

I think I'm going to dye my hair a shade of mousy brown, get a stylin' mom hair do and buy some tapered, high-waisted jeans.

McPerky

2006-05-05T10:03:00.000-07:00

We donned our swimming costumes and stepped onto the pool deck to see our aquasize instructor limping around with a mop in hand. "What happened to you?" we asked.

"I have a groin injury, " he grimaced. "My supervisor will be leading the class tonight."

Our shoulders uniformly slumped as we realized how much we would miss our good natured, rolly-polly teacher.

Then we saw her.

She came bounding out of the staff room wearing a shiney one-piece speedo bathing suit and athletic aqua socks.

She was ripped.

She was fit.

And she was PERKY.

She introduced herself but I don't even remember her name, since I was blinded by the gleaming smile she had plastered on her face. The class began and she led from the side of the pool, fiercely hopping around, kicking, squatting, punching. We tried to follow her, but she was going so fast! Five minutes into the class we were already out of breath and Jen whispered, with fear in her eyes, "Is this just the warm up?"

Next we moved onto the deep water portion of the work out. Normally we wear floaty belts or take our buoyant dumbells to keep our heads above water.

But not this week.

We were instructed to grab a pool noodle, string it between our crotch and clench it in place.

Neat.

So there we were, the tips of our noodles poking out in front and behind us. (Jen's was the longest noodle and she was quite proud. I had a case of noodle envy as I got stuck with the stumpiest one there. Oh, the shame.)

The novelty of the noodles wore off quickly and we all grew tired of our teacher's squinty-eyed, smile-till-it-hurts approach, so eventually we just kind of floated listlessly and moved around just enough to make it look like we were trying to keep up.

Somehow we survived the hour. The bad news came as we were exiting the pool. "So, I'll be leading next week's class too, until Shawn heals! See you then!"

Mercy.

My Silvertown

2006-05-04T14:58:00.000-07:00

As the apple trees begin to bud and the valley cloud lifts to reveal the sunshine and the lake warms and the ice cream shops reopen and the days lenthen and the breeze softens, I am reminded of what an amazing place Summerland truly is.

There is something magical about this little town and it is a place I will never take for granted.

It's, It's a Birthday Blitz!

2006-05-04T09:30:00.000-07:00

Today it's my dad's birthday.

I won't disclose his age, out of respect for the elderly.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAPPY!!

Not So Little

2006-05-03T09:32:00.000-07:00

Today my baby brother turns 21!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Steve!!

I am so glad that we are friends now and that you don't throw dinner plates at me anymore. And I'm sure you're relieved that I no longer force you to chew sidewalk chalk then spit it out so I can use the saliva-slicked paste as paint.

Good times.

I love you and am proud of you.

Now We're Really Lost

2006-05-02T13:45:00.000-07:00

A few months ago we borrowed season one of LOST on DVD from Angella. We were hooked. We would watch four episodes in one sitting, fighting the need to sleep. When we ran out of discs we lamented the fact that we'd have to wait until the summer to catch season two on DVD. Then something great happened...our friends broke the law and pirated the first 12 episodes of season two off of the internet. And then they put them onto our computer for us.

Really, what choice did we have but to watch them?

So, watch them we did.

We just finished the twelfth episode last night and we're now wondering where we're going to get our next fix.

It's funny how I willingly enjoy the fruits of theft.

It reminds me of being in grade school when this guy I knew named Efren would fill his duffel bag with stolen chocolate bars from the Esso. Then he would distribute his loot to all of his friends. Did I stand up to him and say, "I refuse to partake of these stolen goods!"

No.

I took my Snickers bar and ran.

Terrible, I know. Somehow stealing seems so much worse than merely reaping the benefits of someone else stealing.

All Quiet on the Western Front

2006-05-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

It's a quiet blogging day today. I have been having some mixed feelings about my lack of anonymity on this site. I have been realizing the risks that come with vulnerability (emotional risks as well as physical). I long for a world where the ability to connect with people results only in good things. And so far for me, blogging has brought nothing but joy. However, I am aware that all it takes is one person to abuse the connection and none of the joy would be worth the pain.

I'm just thinking.

It's good to weigh out the options and decide what is best for me and my family.

In other news, I am safe and sound and happy to be home again. My time away was delightful but the comforts of home are wonderful too. It's good to be back at work, back strolling down main street, back in my own bed with Steve and Rolo.

That is all for now.

Yes, Yes I Have.

2006-04-29T08:02:00.000-07:00

While at my grandparents' house in small town Saskatchewan yesterday I was sitting on the couch with my brother. I had my feet curled up at my side and when he looked down and caught a glimpse of them all he could say was, "Naaasty." Yes, the dreaded case of Summer Foot has begun: cracked heels, grown-out pedicure, and general dryness from the wearing of flip flops. He pointed to the callous I had on the bottom of my big toe and expressed how sick he thought it looked. I defended, "It's just a callous!"

Then he asked, "What, have you been playing guitar with your toe?"

I am going home today.

Minky Blanky and a Growing Belly

2006-04-27T19:48:00.000-07:00

Today my mom looked at me and said, "I think you've gotten bigger since you've been here." And I think she's right. How is it possible for one's stomach to pop out even more in a matter of days?! 'Tis a mystery. Here are some of the fabrics that we chose for the baby's quilt. It's going to be kind of a random, crazy quilt, like my baby's momma. I can't wait to see the finished product.

And here's a full length shot of said bustin' out belly!

Brace yourselves for my return, WestJet! I may need two seats.

Today I bought two outfits for the baby. One will be perfect for her to come home from the hospital in. The other is pink and soft and it's Baby Guess (new with tags from a consignment store...can't pass up a deal like that). I want to buy everything! I do believe that nesting mode has begun. I want to have all things settled RIGHT NOW. I know that there's still 11 weeks till the baby's born, but dangnabbit, I need the diaper genie NOW! And a playpen NOW! And a video camera NOW! And a baby monitor NOW! The list goes on and on and potentially I am going to blow a lot of dough in the next two months. Which will thrill Steve to no end.

Here's a question for all you moms out there: our nursery set has already been used by two other girls who both slept in the crib well past two years of age. Do we need to buy a new mattress for the crib, or will it be OK for one more baby? I have heard that newborns need a good, firm mattress to reduce the risk of SIDS and of course I don't want to take any chances. Any recommendations?

Puppy Pee? I Don't Mind It.

2006-04-27T17:08:00.000-07:00

I got an email today from my sister-in-law's boyfriend and he attached a picture he had taken of Rolo when he was in Summerland for a visit on the Easter weekend. Seeing my little puppy makes me realize that I miss that mutt! Today my mom and I stopped in at a pet shop to look at the puppies. There were five tiny pups in an open pen that people were allowed to pick up and cuddle. Unfortunately we arrived just after one of the puppies had dropped a mushy log in the pen and all but one of the dogs had rolled in the turd. The one poo-free puppy was quickly scooped up by my mom and then she handed her over to me after she'd had her fill. I am not even sure what kind of dog it was, but she was cute! She was white with chocolate eyes and she nuzzled in close to my neck. I love the way puppies smell. So new and fresh and a little bit like pee, but it's puppy pee, so it's OK. Just as I was thinking about puppy pee, I felt a little wet spot form on my shirt. The puppy peed on my belly!

It dried.

Kind of.

It was worth being peed on for some puppy lovin'.

I can't wait to see Rolo and force him to cuddle with me.

And Steve for that matter.

Dropped

2006-04-26T16:46:00.000-07:00

My mom and I? We like to shop. When I was a preteen we would spend our Saturdays at the mall, sipping sodas in the food court and buying the essentials for each change of season. When I became a snotty teenager, I would go to the mall with my girlfriends and we would spend our $10 allowances on lame shirts from Suzy Shier, while trying to catch the eyes of all the (not so hot) hotties who were also hanging out at the Cornwall Centre. I wasn't stupid, though. When I actually needed some new clothes, I went with mom. She had the wallet. And she's always been happy to buy me the occasional article of clothing to make me feel pretty.

Today we headed out to a high-end quilting shop that one of my mom's friends works at. We picked out the most perfect materials for making a quilt for the baby...lavenders and greens abounded in the quaint little store and I think we'll have a masterpiece laying in the crib in no time. My mom's friend is going to sew the quilt as a gift for the baby, and my mom bought the material. I am so excited!

Then we went to another fabric store to hunt for material to make nursery curtains with. Would you believe that they had the exact same fabric that the bumper pads are made of there? And it was 40% off! It couldn't have worked out better! Our curtains will be a pale green, to contrast the lavender walls, and I am hoping I won't botch them up too badly. Yes, you heard correctly, I am going to attempt to sew the curtains myself. I am an imbecile with a needle and thread and have only ever sewn a "sundress" which looked more like a potato sack, but I figure I can handle stitching a few straight seams. Time will tell.

Then we went to a scrapbook store and my mom bought me a beautiful baby album.

Does she rock, or what?

It's been a good day, filled with shopping, laughing, and stopping for ice cream cones.

A Rae of Sunshine

2006-04-25T15:22:00.000-07:00

Today I had lunch with Rae. We have known each other for over 15 years but have done an atrocious job of keeping in touch since graduation. It had been well over three years since we last spoke, but as soon as I walked into Moxie's today and saw her get out of the booth and walk towards me with arms open, ready for a hug, I knew we would have no problem making up for lost time. We jumped right into recapping everything that life has held for us in the past few years, and while our paths have been quite different, it was refreshing to see how Rae has stayed true to herself and her passions. She is an accomplished dancer and choreographer who is still following her dreams. We reminisced about old times, about who's fat now, who's married, who's dead...pretty nuts to think of all that's happened since the grad class of Winston Knoll Collegiate tossed their caps in the air.

We shared a delicious lunch, then went shopping. I found a dress! And shoes! And a necklace! And earrings! Rae was my good luck charm.

Thanks for the great visit, Rae. Hopefully it won't be another three years until we next meet.

Just Another Manic Monday

2006-04-24T20:17:00.000-07:00

The pregnancy dreams have been getting weirder. Last night I dreamt that I had the baby and she had to stay at the hospital for a few weeks. But I kept forgetting to go and visit her. Then I realized, "Oh no! My milk is going to dry up and I won't be able to nurse her!" so I went to the hospital to try to breastfeed her. She latched on and a little bit of milk came out. I was relieved that I had some left. Then, my boob started to spew this crazy gush of neon green milk. It was out of control and spraying everywhere.

Good story, hey?

Today has been nice. I went for a walk with my momma in the morning, then we got groceries, then went on a hunt for a dress for me to wear to Steph's wedding. I tried on every dress in Motherhood Maternity and had no success. Everything was either too low cut (these jugs need support!) or the mediums were too tight across the bust but the larges were gaping. Ugh. I hate feeling like there's something wrong with my body and every article of clothing looks wrong on it. Walking past Le Chateau and seeing the stick thin mannequins in the windows, then seeing the reflection of my bloated profile in the same windows, now that does wonders for the self esteem. I know that my pregnant body is beautiful and I am so thankful for this experience, but when maternity clothes don't fit right, you can't help but feel like a beluga.

Tomorrow I am meeting up with an old friend (hi, Rae!) for lunch and it will be good to reconnect after all these years.

I am enjoying the days here and the chance to unwind and relax.

With a Spoon

2006-04-23T09:38:00.002-07:00

So, I made it. Here I am, sitting at the computer in the basement I grew up in. So much is the same, but so much is different. I'm having a hard time remembering that I used to be a teenager in this house, that I used to talk on the phone in my bedroom downstairs for hours to boys, that I used to walk upstairs and dig something out of the fridge and ask when dinner was. It's nice to be back for a visit, though.

The flight was basically uneventful. Aside from the fact that I was seated in the very last row of the plane, right next to the only working lavatory on board. In the one and a half hour flight to Edmonton, over 16 people used the bathroom. Didn't they void before getting on the plane?! Couldn't they hold it for a few minutes? It wouldn't have normally been a big deal to me; if you gotta go, you gotta go. But being seated right next to the bathroom was less than ideal. Each time the door opened, I was hit with the pungent odour of concentrated air freshener mixed with the aroma of poo. And the door swung open and shut for basically the entire flight. At least there were in-flight TVs showing TLC's "What Not To Wear" to distract me. Owell, if being assaulted by raunchy smells for 90 minutes is the greatest of my worries, then I think I'm doing okay.

Yesterday was a balmy 23 degrees (Celsius) and I went for a walk around the neighbourhood lake wearing my capris and no jacket. When I woke up this morning, there was snow on the ground. The prairies. Go figure. Hopefully the weather will smarten up as I only brought sandals to wear.

Pictures to come...

He Didn't Do the Math

2006-04-21T09:59:00.000-07:00

Back in January I booked a flight to go and visit my family in Saskatchewan. Prior to the booking, I called Steve up and said, "I'm thinking about going to Regina from April 22-29. Is that OK with you?" (We had already discussed that since Steve would be unable to take the time off of work, I would be flying solo.)

He said, "Yep."

And I booked the flight.

A few months later I mentioned that I was getting excited about my upcoming week in Regina. He stopped, "What? You'll be gone for a whole week?!"

"Yes, you knew that. When I asked you about the dates you were fine with them."

"Well, I didn't realize you'd want to ditch me for an entire week! I can't BELIEVE it!!" he wailed.

And he's been sulking about it ever since.

Poor Stevie. It's nice to know I'll be missed. But he's been giving me the evil eye when I put things in my suitcase or talk about which groceries he'd like me to pick up for him before I leave. Of course I am going to miss my dear hubby whilst I am gone, but I'll phone him every day and heaven knows he'll be so busy that he probably won't even note my absence until he crawls into the cold bed at night.

I am really looking forward to spending some time with my family though. I am in need of a bit of a break, some time to let my momma pamper me before I become a momma myself. And I haven't seen my brother since he got back from his year in England (and yes, he did come through with the Belgian chocolate...it will be waiting for me in Regina).

I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to blog from the Queen City, so don't fret.

Ta-ta!

Secret Weenie

2006-04-20T15:00:00.000-07:00

Lately I have been mildly worried that the ultrasound images that revealed the sex of our little girl could be wrong. I know we wouldn't be the first parents to be shocked to find out that the daughter they had been expecting was really a son. Who will have to live in a lavender nursery and wear dresses because his parents were idiots.

Maybe that's why we can't agree on a girl's name...because we're not having a girl. I don't know. We had two ultrasounds and the tech got a really good look between the gams and saw girl parts both times, so I guess that's what I'll have to go on.

But sometimes, I wonder.

Sunshine, Baby

2006-04-20T07:58:00.000-07:00

The view from our deck this morning.
A nearly 7-month pregnant me, budding apple trees, and sunshine gleaming off the lake.

Kicky Boots

2006-04-19T10:34:00.000-07:00

As I have mentioned before, Steve and I have a lot of silly nicknames for Rolo. And a lot of silly songs we sing to Rolo. One of Rolo's nicknames is Kissy-Boots, taken from an episode of Teen Girl Squad from homestarrunner.com. (If the link doesn't work, simply go to homestarrunner.com, click on toons, and choose Teen Girl Squad episode #8.) We call Rolo Kissy-Boots because he always tries to make out with us. He loves to lick our faces and our noses and our chins. He's very amourous. Anyways, Kissy Boots is his name-o.

Last night we were laying in bed and the baby was moving around a lot. I got Steve to place his hand on my belly so he could feel her and she gave him a swift kick. It was great! So naturally, we have named our baby Kicky-Boots. And we sang her this song,

"Ooncha, ooncha, one, two three-cha!

Your name's Kicky-Boots, we can't wait to meetcha!"

End scene.

Moments on the Farm

2006-04-18T18:50:00.000-07:00

We have quite a few dirt piles around our orchard. Top soil, silt, sand and rocks are mounded into huge gatherings to be used for landscaping and around the farm. Rolo loves to chill on these dirt piles. He cozies himself in at the base of them, surrounding himself with filth, and he naps. And then I take pictures of him and he stirs and gets mad that I am always stalking him with the camera. Little does he know that soon and very soon I will have a new photographic obssession and will be snapping thousands of images of our baby and Rolo will become the number two beast in our home. Really, he should be enjoying the way I smother him with cuddles and force him to sit on my lap. He'll miss these days.

And here's a profile shot. I call it "Big Belly, Big Boobs and a Messy Yard."

Charged

2006-04-18T18:43:00.000-07:00

Nesting. 'Tis a glorious endeavor. Here are a few pictures of the nursery in all of its painted glory. I don't know if the photos will do justice to just how adorable the room truly is, but hopefully they'll give you a faint idea. The walls are still quite bare, and we need curtains and some ambience, but for now I am pleased.
While Steve was hauling in the loads of diapers (a bit of overeagerness never killed anyone, did it?) and baby stuff and groceries for me, he accidentally dropped a four-litre container of milk and it busted all over the floor.
Rolo was appropriately thrilled.

After we had finished painting, Steve moved all of the furniture back into the baby's room. I walked in and found in assembling the mobile over the crib. And my heart, it melted. He's going to be such a good dad and when I see him hold our daughter for the first time I am going to be reduced to a pile of weeping rubble.

The Sun is Shining and So Am I

2006-04-18T13:54:00.000-07:00

Today is the first in a while that I actually feel like myself.

The sun is shining on the placid lake of glass and the blossoms are bursting forth in all their glory.

And I had McDonalds for lunch.

At Jen's house.

And shared three of my fries with her daughter, Abby.

And tonight I am going to aquasize.

And to my delight I haven't gained any weight in the past two weeks.

And my baby's room is THE BEST EVER.

And yesterday I bought wicker baskets with linen liners to hold my new stash of newborn diapers, butt cream, and baby powder.

And I don't have to cook tonight since we're still grazing on Easter leftovers.

And I'm finally all caught up on the blog reading I missed over the long weekend.

Today? Is a good one.

Lethargy and Lavender

2006-04-17T18:28:00.000-07:00

I am exhausted.
I haven't posted on here since Wednesday, but for many good reasons.
I was very sick with some sort of stomach bug on Thursday and basically spent the day rotating from the couch, then my bed, and back to the couch, sprawled on my body pillow feeling sorry for myself. Being sick SUCKS. I completely take for granted all of the days when my body is functioning normally and I don't feel as though I've been run over by a tractor. When I am sick, my negative side emerges. I am riddled with thoughts like "I shall be sick forever. This will not pass." Really uplifting. Anyways, it was a 24 hour bug and by Friday I had perked up and was feeling better. Since then I have still had a lack of appetite (which is STRANGE for me) and nothing looks good. I haven't felt hungry in four days and everything in the fridge makes me say, "Meh." I baked homemade buns for Easter dinner at our house and only took one bite of mine. I feel like I'm in the twilight zone.
Aside from feeling kind of queasy, the weekend has been good. The baby's room is all painted a lovely shade of lavender and it looks mah-velous! I am so happy to have it all done. I'll post some photos when my stupid camera batteries are recharged. Without fail, whenever I sit down to upload some pictures, my batteries die. Every time. It's neat.
Steve's sister and her boyfriend spent the weekend with us and we had much fun watching movies, going out for a birthday dinner, painting, dirtbiking (sans me), and chowing down on Easter dinner. It was the first time I had ever hosted a holiday meal, and I think it went pretty well. Potatoes au gratin, slow-cooked broccoli bake, corn, homemade buns and a ham (care of the mother-in-law).
I am tired.

The Pool Shall Take the Blame

2006-04-12T11:34:00.000-07:00

My dear friend Kristin commented on my last post about some of the other escapades I've had in the pool before and I think it's safe to say that when I'm swimming, I am not myself. I do things I ought not to.

When we were kids we would wear goggles and swim underwater and play the part of peeping toms, checking out teenagers who were making out with legs entwined. I know, so very cool.

My favourite was Kristin's mention of our special brand of the game "catch". We would stand a few metres apart and throw a ball back and forth, catching it with glee. Then one of us would deliberately hurl the ball at an unsuspecting swimmer and pretend that it was an accident. They would turn and see who had thrown it and we would shrug our shoulders in apology as if to say, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

But really, we did.

We meant it wholeheartedly.

What a terrible child I was.

I am going to get what's coming to me, I fear.

Took Me Back

2006-04-12T10:38:00.000-07:00

Last night at Aquasize I was having a little too much fun. Jen and I were doing airbands to Martina McBride (truth be told, it was mainly me doing the lip synching...Jen just laughed) while grooving in the water and I guess we got a little carried away.

The instructor took off his Backstreet Boy-esque microphone, held it out to me and said, "Do you want this?"

In that instant I shrunk to the height of two feet.

I didn't mean to be cause a riotous distraction.

I didn't mean to take away from his leading.

I didn't mean to be a bad person.

But I felt pretty dumb.

Christy asked, while she gracefully bopped in the pool, "Did you get in trouble a lot when you were a kid in school?"

I nodded.

I was always getting warnings for talking to much, laughing too much, and being too loud.

Pardon me for enjoying life.

I guess I still have a ways to go in learning the art of appropriate public behavior.

The Sprouts, They Scare Me

2006-04-11T21:41:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I opened the lazy susan which houses my potatoes. Now that it's spring I've been cooking more with lighter vegetables and it's been a few months since I made mashed taters. I'm hosting the family Easter meal this year and thought that scalloped potatoes would go nicely with the ham we're having, so I checked on my potato supply.
And screamed when I saw what was lurking in my cupboard.
I HATE potato sprouts. There is something very disturbing about them and I hate how they are thick and spiney and smelly and firm and how the potato itself gets all shrivelly as the sprout steals its vigor from the dying apple of the earth.

I think my dislike of potato sprouts stems from a childhood memory. When my mom took the occasional nursing shift we would get babysat at the home of a girl my age named Karen Bonk. Karen was kind of mean. One day she called me down to the cellar and told me she had something to show me. I entered the room and she hucked a big sprouty potato at me.
I HATE THE SPROUTS.

Normal people don't let their potatoes get this sprouty, do they?

Here are a few more of the treasures I found.

I threw them all away.

In My Mind's Eye

2006-04-11T14:21:00.000-07:00

Blogging has crept from my real world into my dream world.

Last night I dreamt about blogging.

Nothing thrilling, I was just reading people's comments and posts and it was swell.

I have become a true internet nerd.

And it feels good.

Detox

2006-04-10T09:03:00.000-07:00

Last night while watching Grey's Anatomy (which was a rerun...boo!) I had a few (okay, four) cookies that Adele had baked for the occasion. They were these chewy, greasy chocolate chip concoctions that slid down my gullet with ease. And they were very thin, which is why I had four. Really, it was only like two. Stop judging.

When I came home I was talking to Steve in his office and I began to feel some ominous tremors in my guts. "I don't feel so well," I stuttered, then ran to the bathroom to have a sudden and severe case of the diarrhea. Steve came in to check on me and see if I was OK.

What a sweetie.

I kindly asked for some privacy and spent the next 10 minutes moaning in agony while my body expelled the culprits.

Gross, I know.

When I was emptied, I stumbled to our bedroom and crawled under the covers. Steve marched in a few seconds later, with a mighty smirk on his face.

He was holding his little digital recorder in his hand.

Turns out that when he came in to see how I was feeling as I was writhing on the can, he planted the recorder on the counter next to the toilet (I hadn't noticed at the time). The stupid little machine captured the sound of my every groan.

Steve thought this was hilarious, of course.

I am so loved.

What To Do

2006-04-07T10:34:00.000-07:00

The church I work for keeps food vouchers on hand for those in need. From time to time, people will come into the office and tell me of their hard luck or how they need some milk for their kids before payday and I give them a $10 or $20 certificate for the local grocery store. I think it's important for those in the community to know that if they need a helping hand, we're here to support them, even if it's something as small or simple as enabling them to buy some bread and meat for their family.

However, sometimes I wonder if I am actually helping some of the people, or just perpetuating a negative cycle. Some people come in on a monthly basis, reeking of cigarette smoke, asking for their handout. It's as if they budget the $20 from the good ol' church into their monthly income so they can spend that $20 of their own on a few extra packs of smokes or some six-packs. I know that sounds like a harsh judgement, but I have witnessed it firsthand. I know the history of the people and it saddens me that they are so desperate, but also that they can't seem to dislodge themselves from their ruts.

How can we really help?

I feel pretty arrogant sitting here at my desk telling someone that I'm not going to let them feed their family this week, so I usually hand out a voucher. Sometimes it seems like I'm helping, but other times it seems like I'm being taken advantage of.

Thoughts?

Stupid Placenta

2006-04-06T15:41:00.000-07:00

At my last ultrasound it was confirmed that my placenta is lying on the anterior side of my uterus, which means it's at the front of my belly. This isn't cause for concern, but it can affect the sensations of the baby's movement since the kicks and flutters are often cushioned by the placenta. I am nearly 26 weeks pregnant and the movement I feel has still been quite faint, compared to what other mothers have experienced. I was starting to get worried that something was wrong, and it's hard when you don't feel those reassuring boots in the ribs, but this afternoon she has been bopping around like mad.

A relief.

I was so excited to make it through the first trimester without miscarrying. Then I was filled with joy to brimming when we found out the cysts had disappeared. But even with all those milestones behind us, there is still the realization that we are powerless in this whole endeavor. Sure, I can eat healthily and not go in hot tubs and pass on the booze, but even with all that there are no guarantees that things will work out perfectly.

I think we've boarded a scary train.

But I'm still so thankful to be on it.

The Content Abounds

2006-04-06T13:58:00.000-07:00

My daily visit from one of the quirky ladies from town was espcially funny today. She was telling me about her cat, one of her many. She said, "My cat's name is Oliver but my son calls him Jelly Bean. Because he's got his knicker-bobbers chopped off."

How am I supposed to keep a straight face when hearing tales like these?

Seen

2006-04-06T10:38:00.000-07:00

I am proud of my pregnant belly. I am happy that we live in an era where women aren't forced to wear homely tent dresses to shield their blossoming bellies. I like being able to still find trendy clothes and feel remotely as I did prior to getting pregnant. 'Tis fun indeed.

But every now and again a strange feeling will surge through my veins when I catch someone looking at my belly.

I feel exposed.

As though they know what it took to get the baby in me.

What is a private and intimate act of love between me and my husband results in something that is obvious to all.

Kind of a weird contrast, I think.

Strollin'

2006-04-05T17:48:00.000-07:00

The new stroller, one of my new outfits, and a new day.
I wanted to try to cram Rolo into the stroller but decided against it. He looks much classier just standing on his own. You can see the patch that Steve shaved off his bum (Rolo's bum, not Steve's) if you look closely.

AquaThighs

2006-04-05T08:56:00.000-07:00

So, we did it.

I, along with three brave friends, hopped into the pool last night for an hour of calculated flailing and kicking and bouncing in the water.

It was great!

There were about 12 people in the class. We were the youngest, by far, and, of course, the hottest. There was only one man in the pool with us, a devoted husband who came to be with his wife. How sweet.

I had been expecting our instructor to be a hard-bodied, perky little woman lifeguard, but instead he was a little chubby with a gut that rivalled mine. He was really into it, though, and seemed to be having fun so the rest of us were put at ease. The crazy dance music started pumping and we began to follow the instructor's pool side leading. The song choices were hilarious! Everything was a peppy remix, from Shania Twain to the Beatles.

About halfway through the hour we moved into the deep water for the more challenging portion of the class. We had to wear these floaty belts and do all sorts of hard stuff like flutter-kicking forcefully enough to keep our heads, shoulders and raised arms above the water.

After a few seconds of vigorous flutter-kicking, I got the WORST FOOTCRAMP OF MY LIFE and had to dog paddle to the side of the pool to weep in private. It took a good four minutes to be able to extend my toes again. I felt like such a narf.

Owell, I was fine after that and the rest of the class was great. I am definitely feeling the effects of the workout today. My thighs are achey and my arms are tender. They say that water aerobics are only as challenging as you choose to make them, meaning you determine the level of resistance at which you want to work out. Well, I worked it, baby!

The highlight of the night was at the beginning of the class. Our instructor asked if anyone had any medical conditions that he needed to be made aware of. I raised my hand and said that I was pregnant.

"Well, you must be very early in your pregnancy."

"Actually, I'm six and a half months."

"Wow. You're lucky."

Meaning, he didn't think I looked like an obese orca!

Hurrah for a little boost to the ol' self esteem.

My Very First

2006-04-04T14:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had my very first butt massage.

To be politically correct, perhaps I should call it a lumbar massage, so my massage therapist doesn't get fired for misconduct. Truth be told he was very prudent and I didn't feel weird showing a bit of my plumber's crack so he could work on my sciatica. It's still kind of tender when I walk, but I'm hoping to nip this problem in the bud and not have to be in agony for the final months of pregnancy.

Tonight is my first aquasize class! I am excited to splash in pool like a retired, wrinkly grandma. And the fact that Adele, Jen and Christy will be making equal fools of themselves shall make it that much more enjoyable. The class is an hour long, which is actually quite a while to spend in the pool. I hope I like it.

Sword in the Bull

2006-04-03T15:03:00.000-07:00

My brother is finishing his stint in Europe by travelling around Spain and Belgium. He has strict orders to bring me back a few good pounds of Belgian chocolate, and he had better deliver. I haven't heard from him too much in the past while as he's been scooting around the foreign countries, but when I talked to my parents yesterday they mentioned that he went to a bull fight in Spain. "How cool is that?" I thought. But then my dad went on to explain that Steve (my brother...yes, his name is Steve too. It's confusing, so I call him Peeve to clear up the madness) had actually been quite disturbed by it. "What's so disturbing about seeing a little Spanish man wave a red flag in front of a bull?" I asked.

To which my dad replied, "Don't you know that they kill the bull at the end?"

"What? Why?! I thought it was all just fun and games, watching the matador get chased by a bull."

Apparently not.

They stick a bunch of little swords into the bull, and then finish him off with a really big sword that kills him.

Sick!

My poor brother. He has a really soft heart, as far as those of guys go. When our cat, Misty, had to be put down, he held her in his arms while she took her last breath and pinned a photo of her on his wall for years following. He loves animals and I imagine the shock of watching a bull being slaughtered was quite disheartening for him.

Poor Peeve.

Maybe I'll share some of my Belgian chocolate with him when I see him in Regina in a few weeks.

Maybe not, though.

He'll get over it.

I LIKE STUFF!

2006-04-03T09:03:00.000-07:00

This weekend has been a stuff extravaganza! On Friday all of the maternity clothes I'd ordered off of Ebay arrived and they all fit perfectly (with the exception of the khaki bermuda shorts...when you can see your cellulite through the material, it's bad news). It's so nice to have some more variety in my wardrobe and I feel pretty stylin'. I'll do that photoshoot yet, so you can see just how stunning I truly am. :)

Then I got a phone call from my mom explaining that she had purchased a stroller for us at The Bay in Regina and it was waiting for us at The Bay in Penticton. It's a Graco 4-in-1 travel system that has the car seat that clicks into the stroller. Just what we wanted! Thanks, mom and pop!

Jen and I headed into Penticton on Saturday to run a few errands and pick up the stroller. We carted it out to the car and first tried to place the huge box in the trunk. It was too big, so we next tried to place it in the back seat. We managed to wedge about three inches of the huge box into the car, and after ten minutes of trying to ram it into the back seat, we gave up. We were laughing so hard, of course that didn't help. Eventually we ended up taking the stroller out of the massive box and placing it in, piece by piece. I don't understand why they would make a box that's so huge! Not every prospective parent drives a pick up truck or and SUV. Some prospective parents drive a 1986 Toyota Corolla with blue plaid upholstery and a muffler so loud it can be heard from miles away.

Anyways, I was feeling pretty excited about the stroller and new duds, but since then even more baby stuff has been pouring in. There is such a generous community of friends here in Summerland and they have been gracing us with bags upon bags of gently used baby clothes, bouncy chairs, baby swings, mobiles, and what not. We are so lucky! The nursery is filling up!

It seems like there's still so far to go until our baby is born, but in reality the next 15 weeks are sure to pass us by more quickly than we imagine. I know that the last month of pregnancy will feel eternal, but I am looking forward to having the time off work to stock up the freezer with casseroles and baking, finish decorating the nursery (we've chosen lavender and sage green as the colours), and being a beached whale by the lake.

My sciata has been acting up with brute force each time I go for a walk, and the middle of the night calf cramps have begun. Hurrah!

In short, all is well, the weekend was swell and I'm feeling good.

Hope you can all say the same.

In This Together

2006-03-31T15:08:00.000-08:00

You know what I love?

When you email someone and seconds later they reply.

Or when you post something on your blog and within a few moments you've already had someone comment.

It makes me smile when I realize that there are other people who are at their desk jobs or stealing a moment away from the kids at their home computer and they check blogs and emails just as obssessively as I do.

We are all united in our desperation.

Dinner Partay

2006-03-30T18:39:00.000-08:00

Just a few images from the get-together at Jen's place last night. Sometimes it will just hit me all of a sudden that Jen actually lives here in Summerland. We grew up together in Regina and have so many memories from high school and youth group and quizzing. It's been a joy to reconnect and pick up right from where we left off.
Story time with Christy and her mom, Nelly. The kids all crawled up onto their laps and nestled in for an evening tale.

That is all.

Fruit of the Month

2006-03-30T11:14:00.000-08:00

Prior to pregnancy, I wasn't very determined to get my 5-10 servings of fruit and veggies in each day. After all the cookies, bread and cheese I ate, there was simply no room left in my stomach for baby spinach or bananas.

But the baby has been a good influence on me.

She likes fruit and tells me to eat it all the time. She seems to go through monthly phases of preference. Last month she could not get enough strawberries. I would be at the supermarket and she would kick the placenta as hard as she could to signal me to buy a four pound vat of strawberries. And the baby liked her strawberries with a light sprinkling of sugar. This baby and I, we are really going to get along. This month the baby has been on an orange kick. She makes me eat cold, juicy oranges every day and if she doesn't get her way she boots me in the cervix (which feels bad, by the way). I am happy to appease this fruit-loving being in my gut, and I hope to keep enjoying fruits and veggies even once she's out.

Rethinking

2006-03-29T07:46:00.000-08:00

Remember when I was fairly regular about posting photos of my pregnant belly? Oh, those were the days. The first trimester was good to me. Although I never thought myself to be twiggy, looking back on pictures from the first 12 weeks of pregnancy has given me a new appreciation for where my body once was. I was not nearly thankful enough for my moderately sized (ok, small) boobs and the tummy I was able to suck in when I had to. Things have changed. Seriously. Here's a photo of me this morning, at nearly 25 weeks pregnant. I hesitate to show you my blindingly white, chubby tummy, but dear readers, I feel I can trust you with this image. Please look past the back chub and the way my rolls fall around my belly button. In case you have been scarred by the above photo, here is one of me with all my clothes on. Here's a quick poll...would you prefer to see my belly shots taken with a bare tummy or a covered one?
Let me know.

Our Poor Children

2006-03-28T17:30:00.000-08:00

Hard to believe that the weirdos in the picture are all going to be mothers in a matter of months. Well, Christy, the weirdo in the middle, already has two kids and is simply adding to her brood, while Tianna and I are first-timers. Angella and Kaili are also carrying bairns.

It's so strange to be a part of an actual baby boom!

Do you see the length of my beak in this picture? A profile can be a scary thing when your name is Amanda Brown. There are some pretty big honkers on both sides of our families, so our child might be doomed. As long as she gets Steve's butt and my hair, she'll be fine. If it's the other way around (my butt and Steve's hair) well...here's hoping she has a great personality.

Side Splitting

2006-03-28T14:43:00.000-08:00

My good ol' hubby Steve is notorious for his uncontrollable laughter. For the most part he is a rational and composed man, but when he gets a case of the giggles, he gets it baaad. A few times he's been at Bible study and someone has accidentally let out a little poof of a fart during the opening prayer and Steve is a lost cause. When he's not supposed to laugh, he can't help but. It's great fun to watch.

Last night we were talking in bed about baby names and we both ended up laughing so hard that I thought my guts were going to burst.

It was a riot.

I'm so thankful to be married to a man who loves to let loose and enjoy the hilarity of life.

Throbbing Bum Cheeks and Other Joys

2006-03-27T09:27:00.000-08:00

I think that motherhood is like a secret society.

There are so many strange and frightening things that happen to a woman's body during pregnancy and the postpartum period that I never knew about until I actually got pregnant and started doing some reading. If the stuff that's hidden in those pregnancy books was common knowledge, I think there would be a lot more people thinking twice about having a baby. (Again, I stress that I know that all the pain and yuckiness will be worth it a thousand times over. But still.)

Life is messy.

Growing a baby inside of you, pushing it out, the aftermath of delivery, the trials of nursing, the constant flow of baby spit-up and poo are all things that remind me just how messy life truly can be.

I wonder, why the mess?

Perhaps those painful, stinky, bloody moments make us appreciate the quiet, blissful, beautiful ones all the more.

The most recent development in my big ol' pregnant body is that I have developed a (hopefully minor) case of sciatica. I was out for a walk on Saturday and from the onset of my first step, my left butt cheek began to throb. The pain worsened with each stride. Ugh. I told Christy about the pain and she said that I have sciatica.

Awesome!

It's not too bad at this point and I am hoping to keep it in check by continuing to stay moderately active (yay for Aquasize). I walked to work today and it's about 4.5 km. I think that was a shade too far for me at six months along now, as I was getting some pelvic pain near the end. I had to stop and take a little rest, which is new for me. It's just hard to know what's safe and when I need to tone it down.

That makes me sound like a driven athlete, doesn't it? "I so long to do my 14 mile sprint today but I fear my heart rate would rise above 140 and that would put the baby in danger. Drat! I suppose I'll only go for 10 miles."

In my dreams.

Apples and Oranges

2006-03-24T14:03:00.000-08:00

After our ultrasound in Kelowna I told Steve that it might be a wise idea for me to take a quick peek at the lingerie department at the Bay to find a more suitable bra for myself. Things are continuing to, ahem, bloom, and I am spilling out of the bras I borrowed from Christy already. You know, I thought that being a C-cup was fun. I felt pleasantly fuller on top and thought I looked more balanced. But there is a big difference between the land of C-cup and that of D-cup. The same bra that is cute and sassy in a C-cup looks like something your grandma dug out of her dusty gich drawer when you see it in a D-cup.

Steve looked both startled and frightened by the sheer size of the bras I was hauling off the racks to try on.

The novelty of these ginormous ta-tas has officially worn off. I am starting to get back pain from the weight of them, and all of my cute maternity shirts fit too tightly across my bustline, making me feel even fatter than I already do.

When my milk comes in, I think I will go into hiding.

Poor Lolo

2006-03-23T11:18:00.000-08:00

We have a wounded puppy dog among us.

Yesterday I called Rolo up onto the bed with me for a nap and he was at the foot of the bed. This is not within close enough cuddling range, so I tried to pull him closer. When I did so, he let out the saddest, sharpest little whimper. I thought that was strange but didn't think too much of it. Then later in the evening he was on the couch with me (I know, I know, he's spoiled beyond measure...deal with it) and I was petting him. Again, he whimpered. I noticed that it seemed to be if I got too close to his back haunches he would let out a yelp. I tried to get a closer look at the area, but Rolo kept on running away. He was scared that I was going to hurt him, I guess. Poor little fella. Seriously, when he is scared it is the saddest and cutest thing you have ever seen. His big ears fold back, he crouches down low, dips his head, and wags his tail in fear. It makes me want to cry. I came over to him and talked quietly and told him that I wasn't going to hurt him and that I needed to see what was wrong (yes, you can call me the Dog Whisperer). He complied and cowered while I looked at his furry little doggy haunches. I lifted up the fur and saw that he had a big, gaping wound that was still bleeding a little. I couldn't tell what kind of cut it was. Had he been attacked by a marmot or coyote? Or had he snagged himself on a barbed wire fence? What happened?

When Steve came home he looked at it and decided that the best course of action would be to shave the area to get a closer look, then clean it thoroughly. I am so glad he was there to tend to such matters, because I don't think I could have done it.

Steve got the clippers out and called Rolo into the bathroom. Rolo slinked in, awaiting his fate, and Steve proceeded to give him a brush cut on his bum. Then he cleaned the wound with rubbing alcohol and the whines and whimpers Rolo let out were enough to make my heart shatter.

He seems OK today, and we're keeping an eye on the spot to make sure it doesn't get infected.

Oh, Lolo.

The Dam, It Burst.

2006-03-23T09:10:00.000-08:00

So, I've been feeling so happy and relieved since finding out that our baby girl is healthy and well. All day yesterday I would stop, look at Steve, and say, "Our baby is OK!" It's a wonderful feeling. We went into the ultrasound hoping for the best but prepared for the worst. I am so thankful for the good news, but I feel like this journey of letting go has been a good one for me to take. Again, thank you all so much for your support and love. It means so much.

The actual ordeal of going for the ultrasound was much more uncomfortable this time than the last. My appointment was at 9 a.m. in Kelowna which meant I had to finish drinking a litre of water by 8 a.m. and not go pee until after the ultrasound was done. I chugged my water at 7:55 and then sloshed my way to the car with Steve. Kelowna is about 45 minutes away from us. By the time we were 15 minutes into the drive, I started to feel the urge to pee. 30 minutes into the drive my legs were crossed and I was clenching fiercely. Upon our arrival to the Kelowna hospital I was on the verge of tears and asked Steve if he could drop me off at the door for fear I wouldn't make it through the walk across the parking lot without soaking my shorts. I hobbled to the reception desk and told the lady that I was there for an ultrasound but that if I didn't pee a little I was going to make a big mess. She directed me to the bathroom where I sat down and told myself to pee for five seconds. I needed to make sure I still had enough liquid in my bladder so we could get an accurate viewing of our baby.

I peed. One mississippi, two mississippi, threeeeeeee mississssssssissippeeeeee, four...I tried to stop at five, but couldn't turn off the tap until seven. And when I stopped I wanted to cry. I still had so much left to release and was still in pain, but I also felt like I had failed and was a terrible mother who couldn't even put her own needs above those of her baby.

I then met Steve in the ultrasound room and I told the technician that I was really uncomfortable. She said, "Get up on the table and we'll see how full your bladder is." Then she looked and saw that it was as big as a football and was actually impeding the image of the baby and she ordered me to go and fill up a half-litre cup with pee.

I did so willingly.

And it was pure bliss.

Results

2006-03-22T12:15:00.000-08:00

THE CYSTS ARE GONE!!!!!

We went in for our follow-up ultrasound this morning and were pleased to find out that the tiny cysts have disappeared and our baby girl is in perfect health.

Thank you so much for all of your thoughts and prayers and well wishes.

We are blessed indeed.

Your Writing Sucks

2006-03-20T14:49:00.000-08:00

When I was in the eleventh grade I took a Creative Writing class that was taught by one of my favourite teachers, Mr. Gaudio. Mr. Gaudio was the commercial cooking instructor at our school but he was also a talented playwright and actor. He wrote plays that we, the students, got to perform. He was someone I looked up to and was perpetually trying to impress.

I was thrilled to take his writing class. I had always loved to scrawl out poems and thoughts and stories and I imagined his class to be a creative environment where I could foster my hidden talents. The class had little structure and we were free to write whatever we felt like writing. I liked that freedom.

After a few weeks, I had penned my first draft of a short story that was based on one of my childhood experiences. I handed it over to Mr. Gaudio for him to critique and provide his imput. I was expecting him to point out a few grammatical errors or tell me that my adjectives were to complex and that average reader would be lost in my vivid descriptions (I kid, I kid).

But no.

He scanned it briefly, then said, in all seriousness, "I think this sucks."

I am not kidding.

He then proceeded to ramble on about how my introduction was dull, my character development lacking, and my plot forgettable.

What a chump!

I was so hurt and my pride was bruised. But I dusted off my tattered ego and decided that perhaps he was right, that I actually had a lot to learn about the craft of writing.

I did.

And still do.

(For the record, however, I wrote incessantly for the remainder of the semester and ended up with a final grade of 100% in the class.

Mr. Gaudio can kiss mine.)

(Again, I kid. He still goes down in the books as one of my favourite teachers.)

This and That

2006-03-19T16:45:00.000-08:00

This weekend two of our friends got hitched and their wedding day was lovely. The bride, Ashley, was radiant in her gown and the groom, Corey, had a huge smile plastered on his face all afternoon. Congrats to the happy couple!

Steve and I had a great time at the reception, dancing like fools and convincing all our friends to join us. Pastor Gary was out on the floor busting moves like I've never seen, as well as Erin, Tianna and their hubbies in tow. We YMCA'd, we chicken danced, we shook our bums to Bootylicious, and we even line danced. It was great fun.
On Friday I marched into the hair salon and told my stylist that I was looking for a bit of a change, but that I wanted to still hold onto most of the length. "Just take off the bad ends and add some layers," I remember saying. I think she thought I was bolder than I truly was, because she snipped off a whopping 4 inches and I wasn't totally prepared for that. I am happy with the change, though, and my hair looks a million times more healthy and bouncy and cheery. It's funny how attached I can get to my long hair; it's a security blanket of sorts. Owell, it's gone for now and I have re-entered the land of shoulder length locks. Hope you like my new 'do!

But I'm Not Ready!

2006-03-17T13:32:00.000-08:00

I got a call from my doctor's office today and apparently my OB/GYN has had a family emergency and will be flying out east next week. So my next Monday's appointment will have to be rescheduled to this afternoon. I'm OK with that. I will get to hear the baby's heartbeat and what better way to start a weekend? The only bad thing about this unexpected jaunt to the doc's is that I am going to have to be weighed.

In the middle of the day.

As in, after lunch.

I am a firm believer that the only time it is OK to weigh yourself is naked, first thing in the morning, after you have peed and pooped, and prior to eating breakfast. It's only fair.

I am the kind of person who eats a carrot stick and gains eight pounds, so I don't know what today's cheese scone is going to put the tally at. I actually weighed myself at home this morning and according to my scale (which is a gracious five pounds lighter than the doctor's) I have put on about six pounds this month. It is recommended to gain a pound a week during the second trimester, so I figure that a pound and a half per week is not reason to fret.

We are going to a wedding this weekend and I am looking forward to getting dressed up. I was hoping to wear some of my new maternity clothes but THEY STILL HAVEN'T ARRIVED! I made Steve check the mail this afternoon and they're still not there. I emailed the seller and she said they should be there any day.

Bah!

Happy St. Patty's Day!

And Happy Birthday to Jessica!

And Happy Birthday to Kristin (who turned 24 yesterday)!

An Honest Friend

2006-03-16T13:45:00.000-08:00

Me: You know, I thought that all of these pregnancy pimples would have cleared up after the first trimester.

Christy: Yeah. I thought so too.

Gotta love frank remarks from a friend who will tell it like it is!

Truth be told, I have quite a few less juicy volcanoes on my face and back than I did a month ago, and this is greatly heartening to me. I am still marred by the occasional blackhead or little zit on my chin, but all in all things are looking up.

Or should I say, were looking up.

You see, yesterday I discovered a new zit in one of the worst possible places to find one: the edge of my lip. I have had zits in my nostril (as if you haven't), zits in my ear (please tell me I'm not the only one), zits in my eyebrow (don't judge me), but a lip-lining zit is a serious deal. Every time I smile, I feel the log of puss stretching under the swollen pinkness and my eyes begin to water. I finally bit the bullet and lanced the sucker this afternoon to dislodge the tiny log, but it's still really sore.

I guess one lip zit is far better than the face full of pimples I had just a while back.

So, I am thankful.

But not really.

Chopping the Mane

2006-03-16T11:19:00.000-08:00

I am going in for a long awaited haircut tomorrow and would like some input from the masses about what I should have done. I am torn between my options: keep it long and one length or chop it up to around my shoulders and get some more layers and side-bangy things. I don't want anything too drastic, but would like something that will revitalize my look.

In my heart, I think I want to hold on to the length for a while yet. Something about long hair seems to redeem the chubby cheeks and soft edges that pregnancy creates.

Something Missing

2006-03-15T13:50:00.000-08:00

Remember how I bragged about how I baked oatmeal muffins on the weekend, making it sound as though I am a sophisticated domestic goddess? Well, there was one thing I failed to mention about those muffins.

They tasted like butt crack.

I tend to think of myself as a decent baker. My cookies are always soft, my brownies perfectly chewy, and my muffins fluffy.

But something went terribly wrong with my last attempt.

I am yet to figure out what happened, but I suspect I made an error involving baking soda.

So, my baking record is tarnished.

I feel relieved that you now know the truth.

Brown Bagged

2006-03-15T13:18:00.000-08:00

A menu for a good day:

Sliced strawberries sprinked with just a titch of sugar.

Egg salad sandwich on oatmeal bread.

Oatmeal chocolate chip cookie.

See, I've had fruit, protein, whole grains and chocolate.

Packing a lunch is a good idea. It keeps me from walking down the street to blow my allowance on ice cream and chips.

I still seem to be packing on the pounds like nobody's business, but it seemd to be going entirely to my boobs (well, and my rump too, however we choose not to speak of this) so I don't mind.

We for for our next ultrasound in a week and I am feeling a little anxious about that. There is a good chance that the tiny cysts have disappeared and we will be sent away with a clean bill of health for our Baby Brown. However, there is also a chance that the cysts could still be there but the baby could be perfectly healthy. Or, the cysts could still be there and there could be other markers that would indicate a more serious problem. A few variations that both scare me. See, if the cysts are still there, the only way we could determine whether or not they are an indication of a chromosomal abnormality is to have an amniocentesis. And neither Steve nor I are comfortable with the risk of miscarriage with an amnio. So, if the cysts are still there, we will just have to wait for three months until the baby is born and not know for certain if something is wrong or not.

I don't feel like I am dwelling on the worst-case scenario, but there is that nagging fear that continues to tap on the back of my mind.

We would appreciate your prayers for us and for our sweet baby girl.

Can't Wait

2006-03-14T13:39:00.000-08:00

Last week I ordered some maternity clothes from Ebay and I am so excited for their arrival! Like a kid counting down the number of sleeps until Christmas, I have been prancing to the mail box every day in the hopes that they have arrived. There are 11 items that came together as part of a group and I can't wait to add them to my wardrobe. There are four tops in simple colours, no prints, and then a few pairs of pants, a skirt, some shorts and a pair of capris. They are made by Duet Designs which is a Canadian designer and the seller claims that the whole lot retails for $750 and I got it all for $150! Perhaps she's a liar and I am going to get duped, but I sure hope not! I have been so lucky to have been able to borrow quite a few maternity clothes from friends, but I wanted to have a few nice pieces of my own to hold on to for future pregnancies.

Clothes just get me way too excited!

When they do arrive, maybe I'll do a fashion show and post some photos of me striking hot pregnant poses all over our yard.

I know it would be the highlight of your week.

My Captives

2006-03-13T13:09:00.000-08:00

I have always been an avid scrapbooker and amateur photographer and diary keeper. Stowed away in my closet are volumes of journals that document my teegage years: every crush, every hope, every petty grievance with a friend, every question about life and God and the future. About once a year I dig out my journals and page through them, remembering who I used to be. The people I once cared so deeply for. The longings for love of a seventeen year-old. Reading these preserved thoughts sometimes makes me laugh, and sometimes makes me feel sad, but mostly just makes me feel nostalgic. Seeing how my friendships, my beliefs, and my ambitions have evolved reminds that when one chooses a path, she must inevitably forsake another.

I am daily reminded of the fleeting nature of life, and by writing things down and taking pictures of them I feel as though I am making them count. They aren't slipping away without my noticing.

Steve and I were talking a while back about how a few generations down the line, people may stumble across my dusty diaries and stacks of scrapbooks and just absentmindedly thumb through them, not caring at all about the lives that comprised them, and perhaps just throw them away since they're cluttering the crawl space. I have always had romanticized notions of my great-granddaughter stumbling across a cedar chest filled with my old keepsakes and she would read them and would feel this deep connection with me, her dearly departed grandmama. Cheesy, I know. But still, I think we've all got this desire to make our lives matter somehow, so that even once we're gone we won't be forgotten.

What do you do to make your days count?

The Morn

2006-03-11T11:44:00.000-08:00

Funny how during the work week I am so slow-going in the mornings and I hit the snooze button dozens of times to delay my departure from the warm, cozy bed. But on the weekend, when I actually have the time to sleep in, I rise with the sun and start moving. After a late night of watching Pride & Prejudice with the girls, I came home to a sleepy husband, who had been out playing poker with the boys. Seperate spheres? Indeed!

This morning I cleaned the house, baked oatmeal muffins (yes, oats are still the main thing I yearn for), had a shower and actually blow-dried and straightened my hair, then felt decent enough to take a picture of myself for you all.

Here I am, nearly 6 months pregnant! It's hard to believe how quickly and slowly the time has been passing. Seems like ages ago that I actually found out I was pregnant, but it still seems like there's ages to go before we meet our baby.

The sun is a-shining today and I am going to go for a walk.

Hope you all have dandy weekends!

A Special Brand

2006-03-10T13:59:00.000-08:00

Remember the days when Saturday Night Live was actually funny? Those were good times. One of my favourite parts of SNL was the segment called Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy. I know that not everyone appreciates this kind of humour, but a few years ago I printed off pages upon pages of Deep Thoughts and would try to read them to people. The problem was, I found them so side-achingly hilarious that I couldn't get through a single one without breaking into fits of laughter. I am just like my mom in that regard. Whenever I try to tell a joke or funny story, I choke on its hilarity and end up laughing so hard that I cry. All the while, people are waiting to hear the joke or story. Then when I finally tell it to them, they are disappointed because it wasn't nearly as funny as they had thought it would be. Owell. Here are some Deep Thoughts to get your weekend started:

-If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "Probably because of something you did."

-As I bit into the nectarine, it had a crisp juiciness about it that was very pleasurable - until I realized it wasn't a nectarine at all, but A HUMAN HEAD!!

-Laurie got offended that I used the word "puke." But to me, that's what her dinner tasted like.

-When I was a kid my favorite relative was Uncle Caveman. After school we'd all go play in his cave, and every once in a while he would eat one of us. It wasn't until later that I found out that Uncle Caveman was a bear.

-The next time I have meat and mashed potatoes, I think I'll put a very large blob of potatoes on my plate with just a little piece of meat. And if someone asks me why I didn't get more meat, I'll just say, "Oh, you mean this?" and pull out a big piece of meat from inside the blob of potatoes, where I've hidden it. Good magic trick, huh?

Thought For the Day

2006-03-10T13:26:00.000-08:00

Doritos are good.

But only if you are eating them yourself.

If you are merely in a room with someone who is eating Doritos, they smell pretty rank.

My Duvet is Naked. And Hairy.

2006-03-09T15:38:00.000-08:00

The smallest tasks have seemed insurmountable to me lately. I have been staring at three hampers full of clean laundry that need to be folded for over a week, but can't muster the will to put it away. Instead, I dig through the piles every morning in search of something wrinkly and suitable to wear for the day. And last night it took me about an hour to convince myself to unload the dishwasher. I am just wiped all the time!

All those people who promised I would perk up in the second trimester? They are lying scoundrels.

One of the funniest things I have been extra terrible about maintaining is our bed. It is made only once a week, when I clean the house on Saturdays. The rest of the time it is a rumpled tangle of sheets and pillows. Two weeks ago I was feeling ambitious and decided to wash our duvet cover. No biggie, right? Just toss it in the washer, then the dryer, then put it back on the duvet. I completed the first two steps and was feeling good. But it was there my progress ended.

Our washed duvet cover has been sitting, crumpled, in one of the laundry hampers for two weeks. Each night we climb into bed, Steve sighs, "So. You didn't put the cover back on yet?"

And I say, "WHY DON'T YOU PUT IT BACK ON, FARMER?"

Now our duvet is covered in dog hair, from Rolo leaping up on the bed every morning to greet us with a body slam and lots of puppy-dog kisses.

So I figure, the duvet needs to be dry-cleaned now anways, and there's no point putting a clean duvet cover on a hairy duvet, so it remains naked for one more day.

Quit judging me.

I am pregnant.

And that covers a multitude of sins.

Familiar Territory

2006-03-09T10:35:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been feeling kind of blah.

I was doing some thinking and trying to isolate what it is that's creating this general sense of malaise, and I have come to the conclusion that a lot of what I am feeling is very similar to what I felt years ago when I started going through puberty.

My entrance into womanhood is one I made with little grace. I awkwardly stumbled into the land of bras, maxi pads, and oily skin, yearning to leave. I did not feel comfortable in my own body anymore.

I hated shopping for my first bra. My mom took me to a department store and threw me into a change room to try on countless training bras. Alone, I stood staring at my strange new body and feeling a disdain for the changes I saw. Then mom knocked on the door and asked, "Can I see how the bra fits?"

"NO! No you cannot!" I hissed.

I didn't like what I saw in the mirror.

Maybe it was the rush of preteen hormones that made me moody and full of angst over my budding breasts and the fact that getting your period was indeed quite a disgusting endeavor and how my already thick frame was spreading even more in my hips. More than that, though, I think it was the sense the I was being forced into a new land, a new phase of life. One that I hadn't chosen myself.

I have been experiencing some of these similar emotions since my pregnancy has begun. Of course I am thrilled about the baby who is growing inside of me and I am looking forward to the changes that life will bring in the next few months.

But sometimes when I look in the mirror and see a body that no longer belongs to just me, I feel like that 13 year-old in a change room in the lingerie department of a dimly lit department store.

The Best Part

2006-03-08T10:14:00.000-08:00

I bought a pair of maternity pants five months ago, when I was about 2 weeks pregnant but didn't yet know it. They were on sale and were of good quality. I started to wear them when I was 3 months pregnant, when my old jeans started to cut off the circulation in my mid-section. The maternity pants were quite fitted with a low-rise belly band for comfort.

I really liked these pants.

I hadn't worn them in about a month, as I have been rotating all of the borrowed maternity clothes I managed to aquire from friends, but I felt like wearing my old pants today.

I yanked them up and noticed that they felt noticeably tighter around the bottom of my stomach than they had a month ago.

What I am trying to say is that I had a severe case of muffin top.

And not just a little overflow on the sides.

We're talking back fat, tummy chub and some serious love handles, all delightfully hanging over my too-tight elastic waist band.

I have heard the old wives' tale that if you're carrying a boy, your tummy sticks straight out in front of you, but if you're carrying a girl, the girth kind of spreads out in all directions.

I believe that old wives' tale.

But you know what? I could feel bad about my muffin top, but I don't.

I was thinking about muffins. What is the best part of a muffin?

The muffin top!

So, I choose to be proud.

The Farm

2006-03-07T19:16:00.000-08:00

When I was a little girl we would visit my grandparents on their farm in Wynyard, Saskatchewan. It was a magical place where we would spend our days being pushed on the tire swing in the gully, having picnics on the big picnic rock with Grandma, and finding the three foot-tall ant hill and poking it with a stick. It was so much fun.

Sometimes there were kitties on the farm and I loved to pet them and give them milk and also to hurl them into the wading pool and watch them scurry away.

I am excited for our kids to grow up on a farm and spend their days exploring the gulch and chasing marmots and eating apples off of the trees.

Although I am not always convinced of my calling as a farmer's wife, there are many wonderful aspects of it and raising our kids here is just one of them.

I Am Going To Be AquaFit!!

2006-03-07T13:32:00.000-08:00

This morning I registered for an aqauasize class for the spring. Jen, Christy and I are all signed up together and we'll be taking the plunge into the inviting waters of health and wellness. This is something that I have wanted to do for a while and I think it will be a perfect exercise to do while my pregnant belly gets bigger with each passing week.

Don't expect me to post any photos of myself splashing like an obese orca, though!

Through Thick and Thin

2006-03-06T10:07:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning I pulled out an old photo album that was filled with mixed up pictures. Some from high school, some from the years after graduation, and some recent ones.

They made me kind of sad.

Each photo seemed to chronicle my struggle with my weight.

There were photos of me when I was a twig-thin teenager who was courting anorexia and living off of a single puffed wheat square in a day. There were photos of me at a seemingly healthy weight, but I remembered how I was struggling with really messed up eating habits, like not eating for a day, then inhaling everything that wasn't nailed to the floor the next.

There were photos of me looking kind of chubby and I remember feeling like a fat mess.

Then there were photos of me looking happy and just a little soft around the edges. Those are the most recent ones.

I was an overweight child, then I starved myself for a year in high school and lost 50 pounds. Suddenly I was beautiful and the boys who had ignored me for years were asking me out. It felt great. But one can only starve for so long. Some weight crept back on and I dealt with it in messed up ways that ended up shattering my spirit and my self-esteem.

In the past three years I have learned to listen to my body and strive for moderation, instead of living in a world of extremes: stuffed or starving.

But it is still a struggle.

Looking back on all of the pictures, having a visual representation of my journey, makes me mourn the wasted years, the scars I gave myself, and the demons I will always fight.

Weight gain is an inevitable part of pregnancy, but it has been especially hard for me. I am heavier now than I have ever been and part of me is scared that I will never lose the weight.

I know that I am capable of it, and I just have to listen to my body and not obssess about it.

But that is easier said than done sometimes.

In Daylights, In Sunsets, In Midnights, In Cups of Coffee

2006-03-03T18:58:00.000-08:00

This time last year Steve and I were on our belated honeymoon, soaking up the sun in Cali and then heading on down the Mexican Riviera on a massive cruise ship. It was a wonderful trip and I will always look back on our time away with the fondest of memories.

Two years ago today, we had just embarked on the journey of raising a puppy. We had had Rolo for a few weeks and he was making a mockery of our carpet, peeing and pooping on it all day long. I remember being so sleep deprived, as he whined to go pee every two hours during the night. Steve pretended not to hear, so I was the poor fool who had to pick up the puppy and toss him into the night air to do his business on our lawn. I was working and finishing up school, so I was extra exhausted.
This time next year, Steve and I will be parents. How crazy is that?! The time, how it flies. Before we know it we'll be having our bums wiped by a care aid in a nursing home.

Life is weird.

Potential

2006-03-03T08:53:00.000-08:00

After all of your great advice yesterday (and stern chastisement...thanks, Leah!) I decided to give the name thing a rest for a while. Not just Anneliese, but all names. Take a breather and not worry about finding one just yet. It seemed like a good idea.

I came home from work and was whipping up some homemade macaroni and cheese for dinner, and while I was in the kitchen Steve called to me from his office, "Amanda, come here!"

"But I'm sauteeing onions and they need my attention. Why don't you come here?"

"I want to show you something," he explained. "Something that's important to you."

So, I abandoned my onions and went to investigate.

He had found a baby name on the computer that he liked.

And I liked it too.

I am not going to tell you what it is, either!

Mom and Pop Go to England

2006-03-02T14:30:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow my parents leave for their long-awaited trip to England to visit my brother and also to tour the European countryside. Neither of them have ever been to Europe before and I am so happy that they finally get to go on adventure, just the two of them. Growing up our family vacations were modest, to say the least, and we usually spent most of them arguing with each other. I think that if we were to all go on a holiday together now it would be much more enjoyable, as we have finally learned that our family is pretty cool and we actually have a lot of fun together.

Anyways, I just wanted to wish my momma and pappy a safe trip and I hope they have a ball traipsing around with the Brits!

Say hi to the lid'l brudder for me!

AnnePLEASE???????

2006-03-02T10:25:00.000-08:00

With a very open mind I scanned the entire baby name book I had ordered, and nothing grabbed me. Nothing at all. I had a highlighter in hand and marked off any names that I even remotely could stand, but when I took a second look at them all I thought was, "Meh."

I told Steve about this conundrum and he was less than sympathetic.

We both agree that the best case scenario would be to find a name that we both love. But that doesn't seem to be happening, despite our efforts.

So, what to do?

If you were in this situation, how would you solve the problem? Bribery? (I tried that.) Extreme negotiation? (Tried that too....and am still not giving up.)

Help us solve this problem!

It seems silly to pick a name that neither of us really loves when we could have the most lovely, perfect name ever and MAKE ME HAPPY.

That is, in fact, what it's all about.

Help us.

An Aid

2006-03-01T14:43:00.000-08:00

We have reached a stalemate in the baby naming quest.

I've still a white-knuckled hold on Anneliese, and refuse to give up hope. I think I am picturing Steve being so awed by my birthing skills that when he sees how hard I have worked to expel our baby girl he will look at me and be prepared to give me anything my heart longs for.

But if Steve decides to be a meanie and refuse to grant me my wish, we will need to have some other names to fall back on. So, I have ordered a baby name book that should be arriving soon. I have been thinking more about Natalia, and while it is beautiful, it doesn't grip my soul. It's just OK. And my baby is going to be so much more than just OK. She is going to be a wonder. So she'll need a wonderful name. (Like Anneliese.)

Last night I had a dream that I was on a big waterslide and my water broke and I started having contractions and I told people I needed to get to the hospital and they all told me to chill out and that they wanted to finish watching their TV program. I started to get really angry and I hollered, "Do you not realize that I am going to have a BABY?!"

Then I woke up.

Enthralling, I know.

Kristin Anne

2006-03-01T13:10:00.000-08:00

Whatever you choose, I will love you always.

Against All Odds

2006-02-28T13:36:00.000-08:00

Since my doctor's appointment last Monday I have been motivated to continue to eat healthily and gain this baby weight at an even and moderate pace. I have been going for three long walks a week and have been eating lots of fruits and vegetables (and only the occasional donut). Just out of curiousity, I stepped on our bathroom scale this morning, thinking that my weight probably hadn't gone up much in the past week, thanks to all my healthy efforts.

But my scale had a different idea.

I have gained FOUR POUNDS in one week.

What the hey-diddy-diddy did I do to deserve that? I've been told that perhaps my baby is experiencing a growth spurt. Hmm, is that so? Then I must be carrying my baby in my THIGHS because that's where the extra girth seems to lie! I don't know.

I don't think it was wise for me to weigh myself, because now I feel like a beluga, whereas I was actually feeling good prior to reading that dreaded number this morning.

I have always been able to gain weight so easily. Extra calories stick to me like a fat kid on a twinkie.

An ironic similie, I know.

BECAUSE I AM THE FAT KID ON THE TWINKIE.

Island Girl

2006-02-28T09:51:00.000-08:00

The year after graduation I did a year of Bible school at Capernwray Harbour on Thetis Island, BC. It was a wonderful year filled with great friends and terrible food and island dementia. Each year the students hosted a youth retreat and the year I was there the theme was "Survivor". I was in one of the dramas and played the part of a crazy, whacked-out bush woman. An Amazon, if you will. For the final skit I was to charge the stage and throw the Master of Ceremonies (who happened to be Heather) over my shoulder and abduct her. All was going fine, until I actually picked Heather up and realized the lack of my own strength. I COULD NOT MOVE. I tried to walk off stage, but my feet were glued to the ground from the weight of my friend. I completely fell out of character and just started laughing uncontrollably, as did everyone in the audience. This photo captures that moment. It made me smile. And sadly, I am not wearing a wig.

As Requested

2006-02-27T16:54:00.000-08:00

Sheesh, you bloggers are a demanding bunch! As per your requests, here is a photo of Bretta and Cody Turner on their wedding day in Swift Current, Saskatchewan. They are one of those couples that is almost too hot for their own good. Bretta is so stylish and hip and skinny and cool, and Cody is not too shabby himself. Their wedding was lovely. This picture won't show it, but Cody's shirt was a pale green and his pants a shade of chocolate brown. How very, very mod. And now that you've had a glimpse at one of my most slim and trim and ravishing friends, I bring you this: my big momma's pregnant belly! I like the contrast, don't you? Here I am this morning, at 20.5 weeks. And Jen, I really wasn't sucking in this time!!

The Daily Pleading

2006-02-27T15:45:00.000-08:00

This is an excerpt from an email I sent Steve this morning:

"Hey there, Stevie! How are you doing today, toiling away at the mounds of paperwork? Hope you're doing OK and that you get lots done.
I felt the baby move today again! And I think the baby is very smart...she knows morse code! I felt her moving and it seemed to be in a rather interesting rhythm, and I sat and listened and decoded the morse code. And here is what she said:

"Mama! Mama! Can you please tell Dada something very important? I would like him to call me Anneliese. The name is so beautiful and it suits me so well and I know that Mama loves it so much and I love it too! Dada, can you find it in your heart to give me the name I deserve? I will love you forever. Love, Anneliese."

Just thought you'd like to know!

Love you, Stevie! See you soon.

The wifey."

To which he replied:

"Hi Amanda,

I think you should re-check your morse code dictionary. Two short kicks and one long one mean hate not like. If you replace this one word then our daughter is saying that she would hate it if I called her Annaleese. I can't even spell the word for crying out loud!!

We had better go over morse code together so that you know what she is actually saying.

Love your husband,

Steve"

She Likes to Move it, Move It! She Likes To...MOVE IT!

2006-02-27T15:23:00.000-08:00

So, I am about 96% certain that I felt the baby move for the first time last night. For the past few weeks I have been feeling little prods or tugs in the good ol' pelvic area, but nothing that was a distinct movement of the baby.

I was starting to get freaked out, because they say that for your first pregnancy it's common to feel movement sometime around 18-20 weeks. I was 20 weeks on Saturday and that's when I really started to worry, "I am NOT normal. My baby is a lifeless blob who doesn't like to move. Is she even still alive in there? I don't know! Waaaaaaa."

But then last night I was sitting on the couch at Christy's watching Grey's Anatomy (poor, poor, George! But wasn't Burke so nice to let him stay at his house? I love Burke!) and I felt this kind of bubbly, fluttery sensation in my lower abdomen, like nothing I had ever felt before. It happened once more that night, and once today.

I am 4% uncertain...you know how they say that it's supposed to feel like gas? Maybe it really is just gas. I don't know. The movements should get stronger in the coming weeks, so we'll see what that feels like.

I'll be posting some recent belly shots soon! Steve took one this morning and it's looking large, my friends! Large indeed. Except you know how when you've got some tummy rolls and you sit down and when you get up there's a crease in your gut? I still have that. Hopefully the baby will smooth that out soon and give me a perfectly round tum-tum.

Big Gulps, hey? Well...see you later.

Got My Fix

2006-02-27T11:11:00.000-08:00

Today I got to hold a three month-old baby girl all morning. One of the ladies who volunteers at the church counting the weekly offering is also a nanny and had to bring her little charge with her. She asked if I could watch her for a while so she could get the money counting done without distraction and I gladly obliged. The baby's name was Mackenzie and she had these huge blue eyes and a big gummy smile and she was wearing a soft, pink onesie. I got to hold her and rock her and play with her for an hour. Needless to say, not much work got done on my end, but it was so nice to just share my morning with such a well-behaved little darling. She didn't cry once! Seeing a perfect, healthy little girl in my arms made me yearn for the day when I'll meet my own.

Sadly, part of the joy that comes with the anticipation of meeting our baby is somewhat overshadowed with the fear that lurks in the back of mind that something is terribly wrong with her. I have been feeling much more peaceful about whatever comes, but there's still this lingering notion that our baby will be stillborn or die shortly after birth or have severe problems. I haven't been obssessing and worrying about it, and I feel like I've let it go as best I can, but part of me is still scared.

And I feel a little cheated that I can't be as thrilled about this pregnancy as I was before we found out about the cysts.

Am I still glad we got the ultrasound done?

Yes.

It was so amazing to see our little girl moving around in the womb; I feel as though I am more connected to her now that I have laid eyes on her. But finding out there is a chance, even though it's a remotely miniscule one, that our baby's health could be compromised, is really scary.

Anyways, no point dwelling on it.

I had a really nice weekend with Steve. We watched eight episodes of Lost in two days and they were all great. I begged Steve to let me order a pizza from Pizza Hut on Friday night and he thought it wise to not deny the pregnant lady her heart's desire. It was delish!

Ta-ta for now.

Random Summer Memories

2006-02-25T11:40:00.000-08:00

Today the sky is grey and looks as though it's fighting a hangover, leaving me pining for the sunshine and days of green grass and cloudless blue skies. Just to brighten things up, here are some pictures from last summer. We drove to Saskatchewan for my friend Bretta's wedding and it was like a Capernwray reunion since so many of my favourite ladies from the island made the trek to the prairies. It had threatened to rain all day, but right before Bretta walked down the aisle the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine came down on the ceremony at her grandfather's farm. It was beautiful.Here's me and Stevie. He is swell, don't you think?
I hope you all have wonderful Saturdays!

Pomme de Terre

2006-02-24T15:09:00.000-08:00

Last night I was the laziest buffoon ever. Steve had left for a band practice and I had noble intentions of cleaning up cleaning the kitchen, folding laundry, and dusting (I know, I know, how does one handle that much excitement?).

Like a good little girl I put away the dinner dishes and wiped the counters clean. Then I pulled out the two hampers full of clean laundry, that have been waiting ever so patiently to be folded, into the living room. A good idea, right? I'll watch Entertainment Tonight while folding the laundry.

Or, I'll watch Entertainment tonight period.

No laundry folding was done. And Entertainment Tonight stretched into Entertainment Tonight Canada which transitioned to Survivor. All of which I watched while laying on the couch like a rotten potato that hasn't moved for weeks and is beginning to grow those disgusting spiney sprouts.

It wasn't that I was even that interested in the TV shows...thanks to the Olympics being on our only other station I was limited to pretty meager pickings.

I just needed to do nothing for a night. And nothing I did!

After a while I felt ambitious and did the first few pages of my pregnancy scrapbook.

But still.

Not too much to show for an entire free evening.

Steve got home and asked, "So what did you do tonight?"

And I just looked at him, with my hair in a raggedy pony tail, my formerly baggy sweat pants clinging a little too tightly to my thighs, the untouched piles of laundry surrounding me, and cookie crumbs all over my shirt.

And he knew I had done nothing.

And that I had loved it.

A Rose By Any Other Name

2006-02-24T10:02:00.000-08:00

I have often heard friends say that it is difficult to pick out a baby's name before the child is born, because what if the newborn doesn't look like the name you've chosen? Although I have never birthed a babe, I have seen lots of pictures of what newborns look like.

And it's not pretty.

They have cone heads from being rammed through the birth canal, they are all pruney and covered in cheesy gross stuff, and they are beet red. How would any name be fitting for a child at that stage? They haven't really exuded any aspect of their personality, and they look kind of freaky. If you went with a name that suited a newborn, most babies would be named Pointy-Skull or Indigo-Face or Cheese-Monkey.

Maybe I'll change my mind once our baby is born, and I'll look down at my little cone-headed wonder and say, "You don't look like a Natalia. You look like a Bertha. Bertha Brown."

I Call Dibs

2006-02-23T13:15:00.000-08:00

Steve and I were talking more last night about names and at the top of our list (when I am forced to exclude my original favorite) is Natalia Faith.

With the onslaught of pregnant ladies, I just want to be the first to lay claim to the name.

We might change our minds in the next 4 months, but for now that tops our list.

Thanks for all your input. My dad emailed me yesterday:

"On a scale of 1 - 10, Grandpa's name rating:

Clara --- -1

Natalia -- 6

Nadia -- 9

Claire -- 9.1

Love,Dad"

I emailed him back and asked him where Anneliese sat on his scale and he said it was in the nine range as well.

I really think we ought to honour my father and give our daughter a name that he likes so that a part of him can live on in her.

Let's see if Steve buys that!

Destined for Dollydom

2006-02-23T08:56:00.000-08:00

OK, so of the pregnancy weight I've gained thus far, I am fairly certain that a fair chunk of it has been deposited into my boobs. By the end of the first trimester I had gone up two cup sizes and was in the uncharted C-cup territory. I thought that maybe I would grow a teensy bit more during the remainder of the gestation. Well, as I near month five, I am officially filling out a D-cup.

I KNOW.

Christy, in all of her full-busted glory, lent me some of her old bras yesterday. I took them home, thinking they looked pretty huge and that I wouldn't fill them out until I was nursing.

Just for fun I tried one on.

And it fit.

Heavens to Betsy.

I am full of shock and awe.

Beef: The Cure All

2006-02-22T13:26:00.000-08:00

It's amazing what a hot lunch and some good conversation with a friend can do for the soul. I showed up at Christy's for my break today with two beef dip au jus sandwiches in hand and together we partook of the beefy goodness. It was nice to just talk about what's going on in our lives...the conflicts, the joys, the fears, the annoyances, and the love.

Thanks for eating beef with me today, Christy.

The iron has lifted my spirits.

I really am feeling better and better as the day goes on.

Usually this blog of mine is carefree and full of me trying to hard to be funny, but thanks for continuing to read despite the somewhat somber tone of the past few days. Again, the support has been incredible and I feel all warm and gooshy inside from all the love vibes coming my way.

Anneliese says thanks, too!

On that note, Steve and I were paging through some name books last night and here are some of his favourite girls names:

Natalia

Clara

Hannah

Nadia

None of these grab me as much as Anneliese, but his choices aren't too bad. Go Stevie!

Any thoughts, oh opinionated masses?

Working On It

2006-02-22T09:50:00.000-08:00

I am feeling better today, though still a little fragile.

I got an email from my mom this morning that made me break down and sob all over my desk. I am just overwhelmed by the love and support that surround me.

I feel as though I am in transition...moving from fear and uncertainty and picturing the worst to trusting God's plans for our baby. In my head I know that worrying accomplishes nothing, and is in fact detrimental to both my physical and emotional health. But it's so hard to find that worry switch in my mind and simply turn it off. I am working on it, though.

And I hereby vow to conduct NO MORE INTERNET RESEARCH on freaky things that make me cry for days.

I want to enjoy each moment of this pregnancy.

Bad Web

2006-02-21T18:45:00.000-08:00

I knew I shouldn't have done it.

I was nearing the end of my work day and was thinking about the choroid plexus cysts and about how they can be markers for chromosomal abnormalities like Down's Syndrome or Trisomy 18. I knew about Down's, but was curious about Trisomy 18, so I did an internet search on it.

Then my heart broke and I have been crying all afternoon. I read journals of parents whose children were born with the abnormality and most of them are either stillborn or only survive for a few hours or days.

My mind is heavy with pictures of these fragile infants and hearing stories about how this actually happens has got me frightened all over again.

I know I need to just let go, but it is so hard.

Why is that I feel entitled to a perfect and healthy child?

I see all of my friends with their shiny, happy babies and I guess I feel like I deserve it too. Even though no one really is worthy of such a gift. That's what's so miraculous about babies.

Seeing images of the Trisomy 18 babies who die shortly after birth makes me wonder why God would even bother subjecting both the parents and child to such anguish. What's the point? Then I find myself pondering all of the suffering in the world...we are surrounded by broken people with tragic tales to tell.

I think I am hyper-sensitive right now.

Regardless, the world looks quite bleak tonight.

Better Early Than Tardy

2006-02-20T17:42:00.000-08:00

Dear friends of ours who now live in the Republic of Georgia graciously gave us their gently used nursery set, including a dresser, crib and change table, all made of beautifully rich, dark cherry wood. Our baby is going to be surrounded by class! This weekend I pitted my office and started to organize all of my scrapbooking supplies, old journals, photo albums, and costumes to make way for the babe. I have yet to decide where to store all of my junk, but it feels so good to have the nursery on the way to being ready. I even put the bedding in the crib! (What a nerd, hey?) It was fun. I washed it all with a gentle detergent that smelled like a freshly wiped baby's bum and when I took it out of the dryer I hugged it and inhaled the delicious scent. (Yes, definitely a nerd.) Here is the dresser: And here is the change table. Soon enough it will be loaded up with boxes of diapers and wipes, but for now it's bare. The ugly white shelf behind it has since been banished to the den downstairs. Cherry wood and white wood are not friends and should not be in a room together!
And here is the crib. So pretty. I love how the sage green bedding looks against the dark wood. Love it, love it, love it! The bottom sheet I bought from Wal-Mart doesn't seem to fully cover the mattress, so that's kind of lame, but I've got about four more months to fix that problem and get a new sheet or two.
And here is the gliding rocker and ottoman. It is so comfortable! I am sure that many a night will be spent, gliding back and forth with our baby in my arms. It's going to be just swell, I think.
The room still needs to be painted, so it still looks kind of drab, but I thought this would be a good glimpse at the "before". Soon it will be dazzling, but for now I'm just excited to have all the furniture together in one room.

Hurrah!

An Open Hand

2006-02-20T15:43:00.000-08:00

I had a doctors appointment this morning and all is looking fine. The baby's heartbeat is a strong 157 beats per minute and I am measuring right on target for the size of my uterus, so it doesn't look like my girl will be a ten-pounder (thank the heavens). Thanks to those few days (ahem..weeks) of ravenous hunger I managed to pack on a whopping 8 pounds in 5 weeks, but the doc said that I am still in good standing and my total gain is still in the healthy range so I just need to keep on keeping on.

Life's a garden.

Dig it.

She talked to me about the choroid plexus cysts and was very optimistic that I needn't be worried. She has seen many cases of them and the cysts generally disappear around 22 weeks, or even after birth and she sees no reason for concern. She suggested that I go for a follow up ultrasound to check things out in about a month, and I am hoping the cysts will be gone and our baby girl will be fine (and that they don't find a mysterious penis between the legs that they happened to miss on the first ultrasound!). Part of me is a little wary to get completely excited about the thought of having a girl, because it is possible that the weenie was just hiding. It's happened before. I don't want to connect with the baby and think of it as a girl and have a closet full of pink sweater vests waiting for her, only to push out a little boy. It would feel so weird. Of course I will still be thankful for whatever we are given. It's just weird to know what we're having but still have a little bit of doubt.

This whole experience with finding the cysts has brought me to my knees and reminded me that I have absolutely no control over the life inside of me. During the first trimester I was so scared of miscarrying, and for those first three months I was praying continually for the health of our baby. But once I made it past the three months mark I think I got a little cocky. I figured that I could take it from there, and would be fine on my own. Let nature take its course, and what not. But I have once again been reminded that I am not the one knitting this baby together. There is a Master Designer and I am nothing without Him. I have been pleading with him for a healthy child, and have realized my utter dependence on Him not only for the life of our baby, but for every breath that fills my lungs as well. How is it that it's so easy to forget our helplessness?

Pregnancy is a nine month lesson in trust and vulnerability.

And from what I can imagine, motherhood is a life-long lesson in both.

And so it begins...

What??

2006-02-20T09:17:00.000-08:00

All I have to say is....Meredith and GEORGE?!

I Like You Guys

2006-02-20T09:04:00.000-08:00

I just want to say thanks to everyone for the outpouring of well wishes and prayers for our baby girl. I really appreciate all of this internet lovin'.

One Thing

2006-02-19T08:51:00.000-08:00

The results of our ultrasound were so exciting, but the tech did tell us of one small thing that she found. On our baby's heart ventricles there are some tiny (less than two millimetres) cysts called choroid plexus cysts. She said they are not uncommon and they tend to disappear on their own and that we shouldn't be concerned. I appreciated her telling us the truth, and didn't think too much of it at the time. But then I came home and made the mistake of surfing the internet looking at sites about choroid plexus cysts and how they can be an indication of chromosomal abnormalities. You see, there are several markers that may surface during an ultrasound, things that the tech flags as abnormal. They include: choroid plexus cysts, an echogenic bowel, short femurs, and clenched fists. If a baby has more than one of these markers, they take that as an indication of a potential chromosomal problem like Down's Syndrome or Trismony 18.

Egads!

I went to bed and tried to put all of my internet research out of mind, but I awoke at three a.m. plagued with fears and doubts and the feeling that our dream for a healthy child was dashed. I began to fret that the ultrasound tech had perhaps found more than just the cysts; what if the baby's femurs were short or the fists were clenched and she didn't want to be the one to break the terrible news to us.

I heard Steve tossing and turning and then whispered to him, "Are you awake?"

He was. I said, "I'm worried about the baby."

Then I cried. And he held me.

When I woke up this morning I called the home of our ultrasound technician (she is a wonderful lady who goes to our church). Yes, I was playing the part of a paranoid first time mom. I asked her if she had found any of the other markers, other than the cysts, and she said no. There was nothing to be worried about. She's had friends whose babies had the same thing and were fine. Her assurance was that our baby was healthy and there were no other problems that she could see.

I feel much better.

We Shan't Be Naming the Baby Oscar Mayer

2006-02-18T16:29:00.000-08:00

No siree, there was no wiener in sight at the ultrasound today! The technician told us that she is almost positive that we're having a girl, as she got an up close and personal look at our baby's privates!! We are so thrilled. Everything looks great and our little girl was moving and shaking around in the womb like crazy. It was a relief to see that there was so much movement, and that things are formed so perfectly already. It blew me away to see her tiny spine, fingers, heart, kidneys, feet, and her mouth opening and closing. A miracle on all fronts.

We have a tonne of photos of our baby, but I don't have time to scan them right now. Stay tuned for blurry shots of body parts that are difficult to recognize.

I suppose that now the name war truly begins. I spent the entire ride home defending the name Anneliese and how if Steve really loved me he would let me give our baby that beloved name. He seems to think that we should choose a name that we're both happy with. Oh, Steve, and his fandangled ideas!

Time shall tell...

I Only Had Two!

2006-02-17T13:23:00.000-08:00

Last Jen came over and I suggested that we bake something sweet, like ginger cookies. So, we got out all the ingredients and made up a batch of the thick, brown dough (not before Jen managed to dump molasses all over my kitchen counter). We used a recipe from our rival cooking blog and was told that the dough would yield about 3 dozen cookies.

"I want to make big cookies, OK, Jen?"

"Sounds good to me!"
Famous last words.

The entire batch of dough made a mere TWELVE COOKIES.

Each cookie was soft, with a crackled top, and was as big as my head.

That seems to be the way I like my baked goods: head-sized.

Jen and I each ate two cookies.

Meaning, we both devoured one-sixth of the batch.

It was a good night.

We watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy and scrapbooked. Actually, Jen brought over all of her scrapbooking supplies but forgot her scrapbook. Funny girl. Molasses spilling, scrapbook forgetting Jen.

She's great!

Better

2006-02-17T11:28:00.000-08:00

I am feeling better today. I was able to get up out of bed and not feel the need to curl up and die, so I took that as a positive. It's good to be back at work, and being busy keeps my mind off of the incessant sneezing and nose-dripping. Everyone wins.

Our computer was being wonky yesterday and refused to let me get onto the internet, so I was completely disconnected from all things blog-related for 24 hours.

And it felt bad.

Today I have been scurrying around from page to page trying to catch up on everyone's adventures from Thursday and I don't have time to comment on everybody's posts. I think I'll survive, but I just wanted to let you all know that I missed you.

I have updated my links, as you will see on the right. The list of people I know who are blogging is growing every day. As is the list of people I don't know, but feel like I do, in a weird internety sort of way. There are just way too many awesome blogs out there.

Bon weekend, tout le monde!

The Pull

2006-02-16T18:25:00.000-08:00

I am sick today.

For the past week I have been waking up with a raw and scratchy throat that tended to better as the days went on. But yesterday the sore throat lingered. And worsened. And my head was starting to get cloudy and I wanted to sleep for a week. There have been a lot of cold and flu bugs making the rounds, so I guess I was finally caught by one.

I got a dear friend to man the phones at the church and was relieved to have a day to rest and focus on getting well. After spending the majority of the day glued in a horizontal position on the couch watching the first five episdoes of season one of Grey's Anatomy, I can say that I am feeling more energetic, though still not fully back to 100% me. My nose is stuffy and runny, my eyes are watering, my throat is still scratchy, and I am itching to resume my position on the couch and watch the next five episodes of Grey's.

I think I needed a day to just rest and do absolutely nothing.

Perhaps getting sick is our bodies' way of telling us that we need to spend a day on the couch with nothing better to do than watch trashy TV.

I vow to listen to my body. It knows what it's doing.

My Maverick

2006-02-15T10:20:00.000-08:00

Last night Steve and I went out for a lovely dinner to celebrate our looooove. While we were waiting for our meals to arrive, we exchanged our little Valentine's gifts. He opened up the card I had made for him, along with a super-sized package of beef jerky (he'll take that over chocolate any day) and I told him that the other item I had bought for him was on its way and was on back order. He seemed quite pleased with my gestures of loooove.

Then it was my turn to see what gift he had chosen for me. I opened the card he had made and it warmed my heart. Then I went to peek under the tissue paper in the gift bag that held my present. (For a few days prior to Valentine's Day I had been dropping not-so-subtle hints that I wanted Season One of Grey's Anatomy on DVD.) I reached down into the gift bag and felt a DVD.

Yay!

But when I fully lifted the DVD out, I saw that it was not Grey's Anatomy, rather an old school copy of the movie Top Gun.

Um.

I smiled and tried to shield my disappointment. I reasoned with myself, "Amanda, why are you being such a little brat? Who cares what he got you? He loves you and you are so lucky to have a guy as great as Steve. Suck it up."

But the other side of me, the disappointed side, said, "Augh. I don't even like this movie. He knows that I don't really even like this movie. He just got this movie so that he could watch it! He should know me better than this! TOP GUN? Seriously?! He could have at least bought me 20 pounds of chocolate. Anything would be better than this!"

I kept on smiling politely, while my inner monologues fought one another. Then Steve reached behind his back and pulled out Season One of Grey's Anatomy and laughed.

He got me good.

We had a delicious meal seasoned with meaningful conversation.

I love this guy!