Rotisserie Chicken

This looks delicious. Probably because I didn't have to cook it nor do I have to clean up the mess afterwards. Unfortunately, this story isn't actually about this fine specimen of roasted hen. It's about me.

Like most third trimester pregnant women, I don't sleep all that well at night. I gave up blankets and sheets about 2 months ago. Poor Alex has had the distinct pleasure of sleeping through the tail end of winter and early spring in a house that is a cool 69-70˚F. In my defense, if there is any, I am not only sharing my internal space with another creature, but the bed with my 220 pound husband and a 6.5 foot long, 140 pound Great Dane. Imagine lying on your side of the bed. Now curl up your legs into a sitting position. Place a stretched out dog under your bottom like he's the chair. Now add said husband to the other side of the bed. Make sure that he's clearly on his side of the bed. Please, no touching. You're far to irritated for that. Need to stretch out? The husband has unquestionably boxed you out so you're forced to drape your top leg over the backside of a massive and now snoring dog. Between your natural internal core temperature that rivals molten lava and the heat given off by the two Coppertop batteries lying next to you, the room is now a toasty 75˚F. After about an hour, I give up and kick the dog off the bed. He has his own bed after all. Complete with clean sheets and matching curtains.

But this is only half of it. Here is how the rest of the night goes. I fall asleep on my left hand side. My left arm is under my pillow stretched up toward the headboard. The other arm is wrapped around a pillow that helps to prop me up. I fall asleep. An hour and a half later, I wake up to find that my left arm and hand are painfully asleep. So I flip onto my back. That works for about 10 minutes until my kidneys feel like they've been squished paper thin. I then roll to my right side and assume the same beginning position (arm up, pillow propped) for another hour and a half. I wake up to painful zombie arm, flip to kidney squish, and rotate back to starting position. Repeat this action ALL NIGHT LONG. Don't forget to add in bathroom checks every 3 to 4 hours.

It's also worth mentioning that it's very difficult to climb over ones self. I'm not huge, mind you. I can still tie my shoes (with 36 days to go) and bend over without tipping over. But shifting a sleeping being encased in its own watery habitat isn't easy. Try sleeping with a 10 pound aquarium strapped to your stomach one night and we might be on the same page.

So now that you have all the background needed, I will proceed with my tale. On one particularly molten hot lava night, I felt like I was flipping every 30 minutes. It dawned on me this must be what a Rotisserie chicken must feel like.

So I say this out loud, "I'm tired of feeling like a Rotisserie chicken!" It's probably 4 am.

"Who's eating chicken?," peacefully sleeping husband inquires.

"NO! I'm the chicken!" I exclaim in desperation, followed by a helpless sigh.

"Please go back to sleep." As if this is a simple command that can be simply executed.

I will. Soon. Don't worry. I'm hoping for a full night sleep in about 20 years.

Baby Brain

We've been experiencing a really strange phenomenon around here lately. It's something that I've only read about but I've never seen in person. Kind of like angel sightings and UFO's. This one seems only to strike households that are expecting a baby. It's called "Baby brain". If I understand the concept correctly, the baby has some magical, mystical power that sucks away average, everyday brain power that keeps one organized and on track. It's a fascinating concept, especially since I'm not the one suffering from it- Alex is.  I've been trying to capture as much of it as possible on film. I need the physical proof because I know its only a matter of time before the denial stage of this phenomenon sets in. Here is my list of proof so far:

• Weight gain. Today, I have about 38 days left before Baby P is due. I've gained 14 pounds. Alex has gained 25. 

• Ice cream in the refrigerator. I haven't had one constant "craving" throughout this pregnancy yet. One week I'll eat a grilled cheese sandwich every day then the next week peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Last week I only wanted to eat Taquitos covered in cheddar cheese and sour cream. A couple of weeks ago, I had chocolate ice cream once a day. I think the only thing I have consistently gone through has been bags upon bags of Cutie Mandarin oranges. I demolish a bag every 3 or 4 days. Anyway, one night Alex fixed up some bowls of ice cream. It was tasty and delicious. He even cleaned up afterwards. Come the next day, as I opened the refrigerator to make some breakfast this is what I found:

          Half a container of completely melted chocolate ice cream. Make that foamy chocolate milk product. 

• Dryer sheets. That's the box of Bounce dryer sheets in with the laundry. The intended-to-be-used single sheet was sitting on the shelf.

• Forgotten keys. Alex has now forgotten his work keys at home on average of 3 times a week. Today included. They haven't moved. They're right where he always leaves them. On the hook, by the front door. 

• Razor blades. Several times now, he's reached in the drawer for a new disposable razor, removed the blade cover and tossed the razor in the garbage.

• The sliding glass door. Just about every day, Alex will open the back sliding glass door, stick his head out, and evaluate what the weather is like outside. It doesn't matter if its raining, snowing, sunny, or a tornado is headed directly for the house. He doesn't open it just a little. He opens it wide enough to hang his manly frame out the opening at the most unnatural angle. I would not be surprised if one day his hand slips and he falls down the stairs. Well, today, he forgot to shut the door behind him. I watched him turn right around, walk toward me, kiss me goodbye and walk out the garage door to go to work. Door wide open. Thank goodness the dog was sleeping in the other room. Our backyard is not fenced in and Davey is not trained to stay put. 

• Mood swings. This just might be my favorite. My mom asked me the other day if I'm starting to get cranky. The answer: not that I can tell so far. Well, at least not me. Alex has been very cranky. Some days he wakes up cranky and won't be himself again until after he eats lunch. The other night he came home from work early and lied on the couch while I was finishing up a letter. Thinking that he wanted to take a nap I quietly kept myself busy. Nope. He wasn't napping. He was pouting. Turns out he wanted to go see a movie and my thank you card writing took to long. (Seriously, it was one card. That takes, what 7 minutes if one writes slowly.) So he put himself to bed at 7:30 pm. With no dinner. On another occasion, I asked if I could have a bit of his hazelnut chocolate cake roll. A tantrum followed. The other day, I wanted to sleep on his side of the bed (he sleeps on the left side, I'm supposed to sleep on my left side, it's easy to sit up when you don't have to crawl over yourself just to go to the bathroom). Another tantrum. And I thought I was the one who was pregnant. Yikes.

I bring up all these points not to husband-bash, of course. It's just that none of this has ever really been normal behavior. At least not in the past 13 years. Alex has always been a very routine-like kind of guy and likes his stuff to be in the same place.

What can I say? I kind of like this version of baby brain.

Happy Anniversary Little Home!

5 years ago today, we moved into our first home. Our decision to purchase a home instead of continuing to rent or live in an apartment has been one of the best decisions we have ever made. Almost every night I thank God for the walls that protect us from the wind, rain, snow, and heat; the windows that let light in; the roof that gives us constant shelter; and the carpet that cushions our toes.

It has seen sadness (the death of my father) and joy (the home-coming of a new puppy, the announcement of expecting a baby). It has received friends and family, a mouse, and too many spiders to count. It has concealed arguments that are long forgotten, tender days of forgiveness, and late nights of study. I'm not sure how long God has planned for us to live in this house but given the journey that we have enjoyed thus far, I know that we're in the right hands.

Happy Anniversary little home!

Davey's 4th Birthday

My puppy isn't much of a puppy anymore. I still call him Puppy. He naps a lot now a days. His current activity of choice seems to be sun-bathing.

He still enjoys playing tug-of-war and will demolish a 5 knotted tied rope in about a week. For his birthday he got a new toy, a granola treat, and dinner complete with a can of tasty, yet expensive, dog food.

He's getting a little more white in the face as the years go by but he'll always be my my Velcro Pup,  Monster Monster, Black Dragon, Mush-mouth, Sweet Prince, and Baby.

Happy Birthday David! Pappa Puppy and I love you!

Weird Pregnancy Food Combo Thingy

What do these things have in common?

Denali® Extreme Maximum Fudge Moose Tracks by Private Selection

and

McAlister's Deli Potato Salad?

Nothing with the exception that they are both hanging out in my tummy. This would be my very first documented weird pregnancy food combo thingy. I didn't plan such a combination. Nope. At first I just wanted something really cold and sweet. So I made myself a huge, okay-regular sized, bowl of ice cream. When I had polished that away, I opened the refrigerator and my eyes beheld last nights left over potato salad. Mouth watering, I grabbed a spoon and dove in.

Alex was repulsed. Revolted. Jaw open, blank stare, stunned. I made yummy smacking noises of pure enjoyment. I haven't been this satisfied since last weeks rare New York Strip steak. 

Okay, so maybe its not the first weird craving I've had.

60 Days To Go, Give or Take

Today I am 60 days away from my original due date. I have roughly 60 days until I find out if we'll be bringing home a little boy or girl.

We've had the names picked out since maybe the moment we found out. I'm not sure if I want to officially reveal what they are yet. All I will say at this point is that they are a) not unusual, b) can be found in our family history one way or another, c) and are in no way named after their grandparents.

So far I've only gained 12 pounds. I've done a little bit of math and determined that if 2 of the 12 pounds is boob that leaves me with 10 pounds. Minus 3 pounds for the baby. Minus 3 pounds of fluid and 4 pounds of uterus, that means at this point I may just walk out of the hospital weighing the same or less than before I got pregnant. I know, but a girl can day-dream right.

Weeks ago I finished the baby's room. The paint job took me longer than any project I have ever undertaken in my life. 18 hours of taping and painting to be exact. I'm hoping the story goes something like this: it took me longer to paint your room than it did for me to have you. Fingers crossed. Here are some pictures of the almost final product.

My Mother-in-Law, Boba, bought us this lovely crib and dresser set complete with the mattress. My mother crocheted us the blanket and sent the stuffed animals. I have also received another beautiful baby blanket from my step-mother, Linda, but that's not in this particular picture.

My mom sent us this rocking chair as a present. The wood looks a little dark but in person it matches very well. My sister, Em, made the little fleece pillow and blanket.

I really like these curtains. It has these giant fireworks-like pattern embroidered down the panels.

I included this picture to show off my talent for painting stripes. The secret is in the taping. You have to become best friends with a laser level to get results like this. Also, being able to do math is an added bonus. 

I say "almost finished project" because there are two or three things I still want to add to the room, paint wise. I'm hoping my friend Selene will be able to come over this weekend and draw and paint in a large tree in the corner. From the tree branches I plan on hanging some picture frames that will have the baby's initials. And maybe a cute blue and pink bird or two. And then the painting will be done. At this point, I'm good with it looking like this until college graduation. 

60 days doesnt' seem like to far away. On the other hand, it feels like forever. Right now I'm okay with each day taking it's time. It means I don't have to deal with the other scary thing that comes after- being a parent. There's no count down to when that ends. It will be nice to finally see the little creature that has been doing full body flips for the last couple of months. That and giving it a name. :)

Unemployed Breakfast

I’ve been out of work for 7 days now. Super bored out of my mind. I’ve seen Alex for probably a total of 45 minutes combined. Our conversations have been made up of guttural sounds and whale calls. So basically, nothing significant. The house can’t get any cleaner than it already is. Well, maybe a little cleaner but I have to give myself something to do next week. I woke up today at 7 am. I’m not sure what I did for an hour but around 8 I decided to make breakfast. Pancakes from scratch, cheap-o bacon, and Simply® Orange Juice. I added apple butter to the pancakes this time but I’m not happy with how they turned out. The flavor wasn’t appley enough. 

Anyway, I ate breakfast alone, did all the dishes, and then woke up Alex. As soon as I said breakfast he was wide awake. I sat next to him while he ate telling him about the hilarious parenting horror stories I’ve been reading on one of my favorite sites (crappypictures.com) and when he was done he laid down on the couch. Leaving his plates behind. No problem dear, I know you’re the breadwinner so please let me pick up after you. Eating breakfast is so exhausting, or maybe it was the fact that he stayed up until 4 am watching something on YouTube. Anyway, I tried to get some adult conversation out of him... “Tell me about Whats-His-Face at workl? When do you think you’ll be home tonight? That’s great you have 2 days off! What do you want to do?” I got about 10 minutes of conversation out of him before he dozed off to sleep. Awesome. 

I hate being unemployed. How am I ever going to be a stay-at-home mom?