The Goodnight Girl

Whoops

2012-11-19T12:17:00.002-06:00

It has come to my attention that I apparently the name of my blog

is attached to another web page.

My bad.

So, in light of this new knowledge

I will be taking the next little bit to redesign my blog.

So, pardon the mess.

I'll see you soon!

Child Posession: The More You Know

2012-11-13T20:43:00.000-06:00

I'd like to preface this post by saying that my daughter is wonderful and I love her.

However, lately her "moments" have become more and more frequent. She's screaming like a banshee, cries when she's put down, and is biting me when I try to breastfeed her. Granted, she can't technically bite since she has no teeth. But, still, it hurts. What's more, she thinks it's funny.

After asking her during one of Alexa's checkups, the nurse told me that if she begins to bite me whilst breastfeeding, I am to pull her away and firmly say, "NO."

When I do that, she laughs.

I am not joking.

So what do I do about it?

Well, first, I got annoyed. But, honestly, how can you stay annoyed at something this adorable?

So, then I tried threats of withdrawal. "If you keep biting me, you'll never eat again."

Not so effective.

So, I've folded like a napkin and simply given her a bottle if she does it. I just don't care anymore. I'm too tired and my boobs hurt. Sue me.

Daddy is still on the East Coast. Perhaps she's acting out because she'd rather look at him for twenty days in a row. If the doctor told me that was the reason, I'd believe it.

Anyway, I have an appointment tomorrow to have her skin checked out because it's all bumpy and dry and I think it's eczema. Poor thing. In the meantime I bought some super special lotion and have been slathering that all over her every chance I get. She'll either become very soft, or very sticky. I don't care either way as long as her skin clears up.

13 "Secrets"

2012-11-11T08:00:00.000-06:00

Well, considering I haven't had many readers lately, I figure this is as good a time as any to divulge my "secrets" to you.

1. I've been known to dodge a phone call if the song on the radio is a good one.

2. High school wouldn't have sucked so much if it had any resemblance to what the portray in movies.

3. When I was a flattycakes, I never used to understand why well endowed women hated their boobs so much. Now I know.

4. Since I had Alexa, I cry at everything. I am not joking. Yesterday, I cried during Cars. It was just so nice when Lightening McQueen helped everybody in Radiator Springs... *sniff*
5. I still can't swim because of a traumatic experience I had when I was seven.
6. Unless I'm on a treadmill or something, I cannot work out if someone is watching me. It makes me feel five times heavier and ten times dumber.
7. I'm pretty sure that I could watch "10 Things I Hate About You" every day for the rest of my life and be completely okay with it.
8. I cannot stand the song "Silent Night." After singing it 10 times a night for three nights in a row during a high school Christmas program, I can go the rest of my life without hearing it ever again.
9. I want to go to school and expand my intelligence. But, once I get there, I immediately stop caring.
10. I love shopping for tops. I hate shopping for pants.
11. It's no secret, but I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints [Mormon] and I am extremely proud of it.

12. I'll never admit this to him, but my dad was right. I do regret quitting piano lessons.

13. I love my freckles. I think people are crazy when I hear them talking about covering theirs up. They're so cute!

There you have it. 13 things you now know about me that you didn't really care about in the first place. To those of you who still actually frequent my blog, don't forget to say hello so I know you're there!

Happy Sunday!

Book Reviews and Slang Envy

2012-11-08T14:19:00.003-06:00

I've discovered something, recently. Foreigners are a lot funnier than Americans. Specifically the British and the Irish.

For instance, this book:

This book became one of my favorites while I was only halfway through. It's written as a series of notes, letters or emails between Rosie Dunne and Alex Stewart. It begins with them in first grade and goes all the way to fifty years old. They are best friends and bad influences on each other. In a word: perfection. The Irish wording and all-around wit had me in tears. I recommend this book to anyone with even the smallest sense of humor.

Then there's this one:

This is the first in a series of eight books. Honestly, when I'm perusing the library for a good read, if the title is funny, it's as good as checked out. It uses terms like "fabbity fab", "double cool with knobs on" and "nunga nungas." Why on earth do the Brits get such hilarious slang? At any rate, this book follows the day-to-day life of Georgia Nicholson, a 14-year-old girl who has stone aged parents, great friends, a drag-wearing cat, and who is ultimately aiming to make the Sex God Robbie her boyfriend. It had me snorting with laughter the entire time and I'm extremely grateful that I chose to read it within the confines of my own room.There's even a glossary in the back to explain their wildly amusing terms. Some especially noteworthy phrases are:

Blimey O’Reilly
(as in Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers) This is an Irish expression of disbelief and shock. Maybe Blimey O’Reilly was a famous Irish bloke who had extravagantly big trousers. We may never know the truth. The fact is, whoever he is, what you need to know is that a) it’s Irish and b) it is Irish. I rest my case.

Boy Entrancers
False eyelashes. Boys are ALWAYS entranced when you wear them. This is a FACT . . . unless of course they get stuck together and then boys think you are mad and blind and not entrancing at all.

Bum-oley
quite literally bottom hole. I’m sorry but you did ask. Say it proudly (with a cheery smile and a Spanish accent).

Conk
Nose. This is very interesting historically. A very long time ago (1066)—even before my grandad was born—a bloke called William the Conqueror (French) came to England and shot our King Harold in the eye. Typical. And people wonder why we don’t like the French much. Anyway William had a big nose and so to get our own back we call him William the Big Conk-erer. If you see what I mean. I hope you do because I am exhausting myself with my hilariosity and historiosity.

Double cool with knobs
“double” and “with knobs” are instead of saying very or very, very, very, very. You’d feel silly saying, “He was very, very, very, very, very cool.” Also everyone would have fallen asleep before you had finished your sentence. So “double cool with knobs) is altogether snappier.

Full-frontal snogging
Kissing with all the trimmings, lip to lip, open mouth, tongues . . . everything (Apart from dribble, which is never acceptable.)

Have the painters in
An expression to indicate that a girl is . . . er . . . having her . . . you know whats. Oh, come on, you do know. Having her . . . er . . . well to put it plainly . . . her . . . well that the “red flag is flying,” that her “little friend has come to visit.” Period. Menstruation. Menses. Women trouble. Trouble at the mill. I can’t go on with this; it is making me tired.

Nuddy-pants
Quite literally nude-colored pants, and you know what nude-colored pants are? They are no pants. So if you are in your nuddy-pants you are in your no pants, i.e., you are naked.

Nunga-nungas
Basoomas. Girl’s breasty business. Ellen’s brother calls them nunga-nungas because he says that if you get hold of a girl’s breast and pull it out and then let it go—it goes nunga-nunga-nunga. As I have said many, many times with great wisdomosity, there is something really wrong with boys.

...Okay, that's enough.

Aren't you glad I read these books so that I could tell you all about what your life was missing? Of course you are. What are some books that have made you laugh out loud in public places?

Let Me Hear You SCREAM!

2012-10-29T22:55:00.004-05:00

Okay. I'm awful. Blogging is stinking HARD with a baby. Sue me. But I'll have a bit of help for a little while, now.

For an indefinite amount of time, Nick will be on the East Coast helping with the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. He left this morning. So, because I didn't feel like being all by myself for who knows how long, I decided to drive two hours west to stay with my parents until he returns.

It was a surprisingly tearful goodbye. On my part, anyway. I had really hoped that his last image of me wouldn't be a snotty, teary mess. But, alas. I have the worst timing.

At any rate, he could be gone anywhere from a week to a month or more. Last year there was a massive flood in Minot, North Dakota, and people from his company were gone for five months. Hopefully they'll take into account that he has a family waiting for him at home and let him come home relatively soon.

As far as baby stories go, she is growing like a weed. Of course, my mom is stoked that we're invading her house because that means she gets infinite playtime. Which, honestly, is totally fine with me. I mean, come on. I'm tired. I haven't slept in three and a half months. Not really, anyway. For instance, last night was the first time she slept the whole time. I, of course, woke up at her usual 2 AM for about a half hour before I could finally coax myself back to sleep.

Guess what else? She's learned to scream. And I don't mean seriously intense crying. I mean screaming. Full out, the-sky-is-falling, zombies-are-attacking-the-city screaming. And she'll do it just because she feels like it. There really isn't a particular reason. This morning she was screaming because apparently my shower was too long and being in her swing was no longer acceptable. Needless to say, it wasn't a very relaxing shower experience.

At any rate, I've got one weird, adorable, hilarious and needy baby. Oh, well. I'm going to look at this positively. At least I know she wants me around.

Motivation Mondays

2012-10-08T09:43:00.003-05:00

It would seem that I'm not off to a very good start with my Motivation Mondays. This past week, I had one nasty cold and my allergies were kicking my butt. Consequently, I hardly worked out.

With the weather getting cold so rapidly here in Minnesota, I'm not sure that I want to go running outside with a two month old baby. Soooo, I'm going to make a slight alteration to my plan. Instead of running, I'll do TurboFire on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I'll continue to do Jillian Michaels' "Ripped in 30" on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Granted, I'll allow myself some wiggle room considering I can only work out during Alexa's nap time, and that ranges anywhere from 20 minutes to 4 hours.

Anyway, I'm sorry that I don't have much in the line of updates for you today. But, I'm feeling much better and I'll spend this week kicking butt and taking names.

Happy Monday!

Through the Eyes of a Child

2012-10-04T10:49:00.003-05:00

My baby is getting huge. I don't mean that in the typical pinch-your-cheeks-oh-my-you're-getting-so-big fashion. I mean, literally. She's huge. At her 2 month checkup she weighed 12 pounds 4 ounces and was 24 inches long. Now, for those of you who know me, I'm not quite 5 feet tall. So... yeah. She's almost half my height at 2 months old. I'll let myself out...

Here we are now, and she's almost THREE months old. What is this lunacy?! She's laughing and babbling and trying so hard to roll over. She's drooling buckets and has decided that lying on the floor is for babies, whereas she's a big girl and, therefore, must sit upright.

I never knew that a baby could be so hysterically funny. I never knew that so much milk could be spit up at once. I never knew that seeing her smile at me would make my entire day so much better.

What is it about our children that makes us want to rip our hair out and kiss them at the same time? How can we be so aggravated at them one minute, and want to shield them from ever getting hurt the next? Children are so beautifully innocent. I think, as adults, we forget that life isn't meant to be complicated. We get the notion that things should be a certain way, and become upset to the point of ruining relationships if they don't. You'll never see a child do that. To them, life is simple. They don't know how to hold grudges. They don't know how to feel superior. They don't know how to not be friends.

Since having Alexa, I often find myself taking a step back from my life and asking myself, "Would the 4-year-old me like who I've become?" If the answer is no, it's time to change something.

Happy Thursday!

Orange You Glad?

2012-10-02T12:42:00.001-05:00

Naturally, I'm a blonde. I've never dyed my hair fully. I've only ever highlighted it. Why? Because I love my blonde hair. It looks good on me, and that's the color that I'm used to.

Now, que pregnancy. Those dang hormones turned my hair an icky, dirty brown. It's not even a cute brown. It honestly looks like my hair needs to be washed CONSTANTLY. So, what do I do? I dye it. I get a box of blonde coloring and carve out an hour of my life to perk my hair up again.

After applying the color the best I can, I have to sit around for 25 minutes while I unintentionally get high from the fumes. Ding! Time to rinse! Scrub scrub. Wash wash. Holycowitsorange.

That's right, my friends. Brown hair doesn't dye blonde very well. It turns a wonderful shade of coppery orange. I. Am. Stylin'.

Granted, it's not my whole head. But my roots are now extremely noticeable. Seriously. I see you eyeing my scalp as you talk to me. Just ignore it.

But wait! Here's the best part! I can't go to the salon to fix it while I have my baby with me. I honestly had no idea. Apparently if I have to pick her up at all, the colorist will stop and I'll look like Cruella DeVille. Now, my mother lives two hours this way. Nick's mother lives one hour that way. And everyone else I know around here either already has kids or lives too far away to warrant driving out there. Translation: I'm stuck like this until next weekend.

At least Alexa still recognizes me.

The Stretch Mark Saga

2012-09-27T16:20:00.003-05:00

Wow. I stink at blogging since Alexa's been born. Oops. My life has been going at 7000 miles an hour that I can hardly find time to sleep, much less blog. I have my priorities, I hope you don't mind.

Okay, well, for the past month I've had the green light to work out the way I did before I got pregnant. Yay right? Wrong. I really took for granted how strong I was and how much endurance I had. Push-ups were no big deal. Reverse crunches? Easy cheesy. Wanna run three miles? It's chill.

As of late, I'm in the worst shape of my life. I have never been more self-conscious than I am right now. I had gained 60 pounds during my pregnancy, and a ton of the weight came off simply by breastfeeding. That stopped about a month ago. Now, I need to lose 30 pounds to get to my goal weight (that's 10 less than my pre-pregnancy weight) and it's HARD. I've been running. I've been weight lifting. I've been doing Turbo Fire out the wazoo. Visibly, I see no difference except in my legs. Insert sad face here.

Now, it's always been easier for me to tone up my legs because I've been running my entire life. There's a muscle memory there. However, I've never ever had a decent tummy. For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted a stomach that stayed flat even when I sat. So far, no dice.

So, here's my solution:

To take the place of my Maternity Monday segment, I'll be doing a Motivation Monday to tell you how I did the previous week. Since I'm still in pretty lousy shape, I'll start off with a smaller goal of running three to four miles a week. I'll also alternate between doing Turbo Fire videos and Jillian Michaels' "Ripped in 30" to get more cardio and strength training as well. By the end of this, I want to be able to:

Fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans.
Tone my tummy.
Run an entire 5k without stopping.

Whaddya think? Will you help me? Keep me accountable! Yell at me if I don't post and help me to stay motivated to achieve these goals.

Thanks guys! I promise I'll be way better at blogging from now on.

Happy Thursday!

Young and Restless Hops and Babies

2012-08-24T08:30:00.000-05:00

First and foremost, I want to apologize to the people who actually care that I haven't posted in three weeks. Like I said in my last post, babies are quite the time suck. And I know that there are plenty of moms out there with a gajillion kids running around and THEY still find time to blog thankyouverymuch, but be patient with me. I'm still trying to figure out what's going on.

Seriously, if I want to eat something, I have to plan ahead. I no longer have the luxury of thinking, "Oh, I'm hungry" and then immediately waltz into the kitchen for food. Lately, if I put the baby down for longer than ten minutes, she has an honest-to-goodness meltdown. Which leaves me enough time to cook my meal, but not enough time to eat it. I swear, this child has a Spidey Sense of when I plan on eating. She could be in a dead sleep and as soon as I sit down to eat... BOOM. Crying. But it's not the "waah" kind of crying. Oh no. It's more like, "OHMAHGAHMOMMYHELPMEI'MDYING" cry. The neighbors probably think I'm cutting her skin off.

Alexa has recently learned that the longer she stays awake, the sillier mommy gets. It's a vicious cycle. First, I'll rock her tirelessly. Then, I'll swing her. Then, I'll plead with her. Then, I'll cry. But, when she finally DOES fall asleep, I've discovered that sneaking out of her nursery is like trying to diffuse a bomb. Seriously. ONE noise will wake her up. However, that's only in the first ten minutes of her nap. If she decides to sleep for four hours, like she normally does, it's nearly impossible to wake her up. I can tickle her, poke her face, blow raspberries on her tummy... nothing. She'll flail about for a second, but then she'll go right back to sleep. It's infuriating. She sleeps when I want her awake, and is awake when I want her to sleep.

...Unless daddy's at home.

Oh, that's another story altogether. Let's just say that she'll sleep so that he can play video games, but won't give me ten minutes to shower.

Snot.

ANYWAY. Guess what? I've been chosen to be the lovely Christa's co-host for her Restless Blog Hop. This hop is super popular and is an awesome way to meet new bloggers and also get more followers. The rules are:

You MUST follow Christa via the button below.
You MUST follow the co-host for that week. (That's me!)
You MUST leave a comment on my blog or Christa's.
You MUST place the Hop button somewhere on your post.

That's it! Simple, right? You'd be surprised how many people neglect to comment, though. So, first, follow Christa:

Second, follow me:

Lastly, comment and LINK UP!

Happy Hopping!

...And I Shall Call Her Mini Me

2012-08-02T14:02:00.001-05:00

Most husbands will never understand the goings on between a mother and child while they are at work. I say this because every night when Nick gets home, the baby is cool, calm and collected, and he can't fathom why I'm so strung out.

"What's the matter? She's not even crying."

"Not NOW she isn't. She would only nap if I was holding her, and if I happened to leave the room she'd have a nervous breakdown."

"Aw, that's cute."

"Yes. It's so cute that she hasn't let me shower in two days..."

But, really. It's not that way every day. But there are days when she only sleeps when I'm holding her and has what can only be described as Vietnam Flashbacks if I happen to leave her line of vision. However, when I finally get her to stop fighting naptime and see her little angel face sleeping, all of the frustration melts away.

I'm to the point now that I don't need to sleep whenever she sleeps anymore. Now, I look forward to naptime so that I can get things done. Like showering. Or eating. I haven't quite gotten the green light from my doctor to begin any kind of exercise regimen other than a leisurely walk with the stroller. Frankly, I've been too afraid to do any kind of lifting or twisting, anyway. The C-Section was my first surgery ever, and I'm a bit paranoid that my intenstines will come gushing out at any moment. Granted, I'm not following "the rules" 100%. I was told not to climb stairs for four to six weeks. Um. Right. Nursery is upstairs. Food is downstairs. I'll take my chances with the stairs. Besides, they aren't NEARLY as difficult to climb now that I'm no longer pregnant. Today, I actually climbed the stairs two at a time. But, to be fair, it was only because they're hideously squeaky and I had JUST gotten Alexa to sleep. Sue me.

Has anyone ever told you that you look just like your parents? Well, check this out...

This poor kid is going to look just like me. Even my mother was a little freaked out when she saw the baby for the first time. I mean, I figured she'd have some features that resembled mine, but I certainly didn't think I'd have a clone. How horrifying. My mom had always threatened that I'd have a child just like me...

Anyway, I apologize for the lack of humor and consistency in my posts. Babies really are a time suck.

Happy Thursday!

Knights of the Kiddie Table

2012-07-25T19:38:00.002-05:00

As I sit down to write this, my daughter is in her little swing next to me sleeping the day away. Lucky duck. Despite the fact that I'm exhausted, I still haven't managed to perfect the art of falling asleep at the drop of a hat. Hopefully I'll learn soon, otherwise I'll simply pass out. Either way, I'll sleep eventually.

Oh, perfect. She just loaded up her pants. That will be fun for me later. You see, I say "later" because she's not an all-at-once-r. No, she likes to make a mess in her diaper in strategically planned intervals. Just when I think she's finished and I go to change her... WHAM. Pee everywhere. Luckily for me, I figured her little scheme out before I changed a poopy one.

But, seriously, Alexa has been wonderful as far as infants go. Yeah, she wakes up in the middle of the night wanting food, but what baby doesn't? She's actually a pretty mellow kid. I am extremely lucky. Sure, my body needs a little extra sleep to heal up from a major surgery, but I'm dealing.

I've noticed that there is this unspoken mom club that you join once you have your first kid. Moms everywhere will rally together to give you advice or share little secrets with you. Sometimes, yes, they overstep their bounds, but most of the time it's all in the name of learning and coping. Facebook has become one of my biggest ally's. Got a problem? Post a status asking all the moms out there what they would do. Check back in ten minutes. Twelve responses. Perfect!

So, this post is to thank all the moms out there who have graciously accepted me as a fellow Knight of the Kiddie Table. Thanks for saying how adorable my baby is. (I know.) Thanks for all your advice. (Most of it has worked perfectly.) And, lastly, thanks for remembering what it was like to be a new, scared and completely lost mommy.

And now, without further adieu, here's some pictures of my awesomely cute baby.

Happy Wednesday!

Oh, P.S., The doctor told me today that we don't have to wake her up in the middle of the night for her to eat anymore because she's gained 10 ounces in a week! Holy poop! I mean, I knew that she had been eating a lot, but wow! I'm glad she can't exactly understand me yet, because during her many feedings I'll change the words to the Hungry Hungry Hippos jingle to Hungry Hungry Babies. Tee-hee.

Okay, bye for realz.

Alexa's Birth Story

2012-07-21T13:05:00.000-05:00

She's here! She's here! She's FINALLY here!

So, at 7:30 pm on Tuesday, July 10th, my husband and I drove up to the hospital to begin the induction process since she refused to come naturally. I got into my room, into their gown, and simply had to wait out the night after they inserted the Cervadil to help dilate me since I was still a big, fat zero on that scale.

Morning comes, and I'm checked again.

Nothing.

I was devastated. Completely heartbroken. I had waited so long for my child and I was going to have to go home without her.

I didn't get out of bed for the rest of the day. I cried more than I thought possible. I pleaded with her to PLEASE come out on her own. Didn't she want to see me? Did she already not like me? Those kinds of thoughts clouded my head for the next three days.

Fast forward to Sunday night. Same tune, different song. Check in, gown up, wait-and-see. However, I didn't have to wait very long this time. About an hour after the Cervadil was inserted, my water broke. YES! That's when the nurse said that most beautiful thing I had ever heard up to that point,

"You're not leaving here without your baby, now."

Oh, how I cried.

They wanted to track my natural contractions overnight. So after being harnessed up to one of the most awkward machines ever, I was told to try and sleep. Yeah, right. After about three hours, my contractions stopped completely, and they were forced to begin the Pitocin at 3:00 Monday morning.

Oh, my heavens. If any of you have ever had that injected into your body, you have my immediate respect. To say the contractions they produced were hellish would be a gross understatement. By the time they came in eight hours later to give me the epidural, I was screaming. My sweet husband kept saying over and over how much he wished he could take the pain from me and do it himself. He absolutely hated seeing me like that.

After the epidural was in place, life was SO much better. I actually managed to get some sleep. But, by 3:00 in the afternoon, the pain was back with a vengeance. I was dilated to a 7 by this point and even though the awesome anesthetist kept coming back to tweak the medication, nothing really helped for very long. By the time I was dilated to a 9, I had been in labor for 17 of the longest hours of my life. When Dr. Jerkhole came in to check my cervix for the last time, I was told that the baby was too big and that I would be having her via C-Section.

Uhm. Excuse me?

Does anyone remember this post? Yeah. At that doctor's appointment, he said that every mother felt like her baby would be too big to deliver and that he was, under no circumstances, going to perform an ultrasound on me unless there was a medical reason to.

So, when the doctor said that I'd be getting the surgery, I looked him right in the eye, gritted through another heinous contraction and said,

"I told you I'd need a C-Section five weeks ago. I told you she would be too big for me. You would have been able to tell if you had just done the ultrasound like I asked you to."

He said nothing.

Nick was told to scrub up, and I was prepped for surgery. I tell you, the preparation took longer than the surgery itself. My arms were strapped down, I was numbed up, and surgery began at 5:17. At 5:23, my daughter was born. I was told to look to my right, and there she was. The first words that escaped my lips were,

"She's real! Nick, she's real!"

Nick went with the baby to clean her up, and I was left to be stitched up. Bob, a sweet, older gentleman who was also the anesthetist, held my hand while they finished up because I could not stop shaking during the entire procedure. I felt horrible when I threw up on him.

Two hours later they finally brought me back upstairs where Alexa, Nick and his entire family were waiting. I was gingerly placed in my hospital bed and Nick finally put my baby in my arms for the first time. I couldn't help it, I cried so hard. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and she was mine. I fell in love instantly.

We have been home for two days now, and I still cry at everything because my stupid hormones are coming down. My angel of a mother has stayed with me since I was released from the hospital and she has been a tremendous blessing. She's made wonderful meals, purchased food for us and just watched over my baby so that I could sleep. Even though I'm unnaturally emotional right now, I still think I'd cry because of all that she's done for me.

Alexa is an angel and I love her more than I thought possible. I still burst into tears whenever I stop and stare at her because she is, honestly, the most gorgeous thing I have ever laid my eyes on. Sleep is such a burden to me because all I want to do is snuggle her forever. I get anxious when she's not in the room with me. I hurt when she cries. She is such a mellow and sweet baby. Nick and I are very, very lucky.

I am terrified that I'm going to wake up and be 15 weeks pregnant again. So, every night before I go to sleep, I try to memorize every part of her. I cannot wait to be back to physical working order so that I can lie on the floor next to her, or pick her up without pain.

Sorry if this post is way too sappy for your liking. Firstly, I don't care. And secondly, it's hard to be sarcastic or witty on three hours of sleep.

Thank you all for your support throughout my pregnancy. I would have lost my sanity without you!

Maternity Mon....Oh, whatever.

2012-07-10T16:58:00.003-05:00

Yes. I'm still pregnant. Lucky, lucky me.

My due date was on Saturday, and, lo and behold, I'm still a beached whale. I'm scheduled to go into the hospital tomorrow night, get some meds to help me dilate and begin the induction process on Thursday morning. If, for whatever reason, the Oxytocin doesn't work and I'm sent home without my baby, I'll be one hot mess. If that's the case, I'll go BACK to the hospital on Sunday night and they'll try the whole process again. The goal, according to the doctor, is to not push me into needing a C-Section. But, at this point, I really don't care. I'm about ready to give myself a C-Section, for crying out loud.

At any rate, this will be the last post I write until I'm an official mama. Wish me luck tomorrow!

One Year and a Day Ago...

2012-07-05T18:44:00.002-05:00

The 4th of July will always have a special place in my heart. Not only is it my favorite holiday EVER, but this one marks one year from the day that Nick asked me to marry him.

He was planning on proposing in May, originally. He had this big, elaborate "Date Day" set up. He even went through the trouble of ordering a custom made invitation and mailing it to my house. When I opened the invitation, my thoughts immediately went to, "OMGrapefruit, he's proposing." I even asked his seven year old sister if that's what he was doing.

"YEAH!" She said.

Sweet!

So, along comes Date Day. We did SO much stuff. We started out by volunteering at the hospital. Seriously. It was really a cool experience. Then, we had lunch and went to see "Kung Fu Panda 2". Afterwards, he took me back to his apartment and taught me how to make tortillas. (He lived in Mexico for two years.) THAT was an experience. We also cooked chicken (which splattered grease all over my arms and I had "battle wounds" for two months), prepared a seriously pretty salad and even made Flan. Yum. At the end of everything, he took me home, kissed me goodnight and left.

Wait, what?

He never proposed?!

His sister is SUCH a liar.

As it turns out, he didn't have the ring yet. Because he was having it custom made for me by his cousin in Virginia, it wasn't quite finished by the deadline Nick had set.

"Oh, well," he thought. "This will throw her off my scent, anyway."

It certainly did.

Fast forward to July 2nd. It was a Saturday and I was really looking forward to watching the fireworks with him the following Monday.

Of course, autocorrect had other plans...

Anyway, we did NOT go pooping that day. Instead, he took me to a waterfall in his hometown.

Now, I wasn't aware that we'd be off-roading that day, so I wore some very unsteady flip flops. When I saw that he was leading me PAST the railing and onto the rocks leading directly to the falls, I had a minor freak out. He was very patient with me and held my hand the entire way so I wouldn't fall to my death.

Anyway, when we got to the rock that I've circled in the picture above, he told me to close my eyes.

"Right, okay," I thought. "So when I open my eyes, he'll be on one knee. YAY!"

I was wrong again.

He slid a card into my hands and told me to read it.

He had actually written his proposal out in a card so that I could have it forever and read it over and over again. I, of course, cried my eyes out. While I was reading, he had gotten the ring out of his pocket and was kneeling in front of me. I yelled out, "OF COURSE!" and just about tackled him off the rock in an attempt to hug and kiss him.

Unbeknownst to us, while all of this was happening, we were getting an audience at the lookout. So, when I kissed him, we heard, "WOOOOOOOO!!!!" That was pretty much the icing on the cake for him and he was pretty proud of himself. And why not? He was a total stud that day.

So, now you know. I love the 4th of July more than any other holiday.

How was your 4th?

P.S. I guess my Tuesday's Confessions was kind of a bust. Let's just forget all about that, shall we? Deal.

Tuesday's Confessions Blog Hop

2012-07-03T09:55:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone! It's Day 1 of Tuesday's Confessions! Are you excited? I am!

Today, I'm going to tell you about the fact that I've taken three different sets of swimming courses, and I still don't know how to swim.

I know. It's shameful. What 23 year old doesn't know how to swim? Me. Why?

That's why. See all that hair? This is me at six years old. I know. Adorable, right? But let's focus. I didn't start taking swim classes until I was seven, and I still hadn't had a haircut. Consequently, when my teacher had us all hold our noses and dunk our heads underwater, my head got sucked up by the filter. Nobody noticed that I hadn't popped back up for a little over a minute. Not until someone saw a disembodied foot floating in the water.

Needless to say, water above my shoulders scares the everliving out of me. I'm not very buoyant and I'm short. However, I'm determined to learn how to swim before I become pregnant again. Wish me luck!

Now that I've shared my confession for the week, it's your turn! Link up below and tell us a little about yourself.

Happy Tuesday!

Maternity Mondays: 39 Weeks

2012-07-02T11:54:00.003-05:00

I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this time frame that I'm in. My due date is on Saturday. SATURDAY. If she doesn't come by then, we'll wait until next Saturday and I'll be induced. Regardless, in two weeks there will be a baby in this house. Weird.

Have you ever looked forward to one single event for so long that you begin to wonder what you'll be thinking when it finally arrives? I do that ALL the time. Like, for instance, I keep wondering what will be going through my head when I realize that the contractions I'm having are real. Or what I'll be thinking when the nurse says, "Okay, Michelle. It's time to push." Or what could possibly cross my mind when they finally hand her to me and tell me she's all mine.

Now, onto the funny stuffs.

Remember my last Maternity Monday post? I mentioned how I keep answering the same questions over and over and over but I at least try to keep my cool? I kid you not, about an hour after I posted that, I had to run an errand and fill up the car. When I went inside to pay, I decided that I MUST have a soda (since the Coke machine incident was still fresh in my mind.) So, there I am, minding my own business, filling up my giant cup, when I hear a voice behind me.

Her: "When's that baby due?"

Now, I wasn't expecting a conversation when I went in there, so it hardly registered to me that someone was speaking until she repeated her question. Much louder.

Her: "WHEN'S THAT BABY DUE?"

(I turn around slowly.)

Me: "...July 7th."

(I go back to filling my cup.)

Her: "Wow! That's comin' up real quick!"

Me: (still not looking at her) "Yep."

Then she proceeds to walk over to where I was so that I couldn't possibly ignore her. I mean, she stood CLOSE.

Her: "Do ya know whatchur havin?"

(I look her in the eyes and hope she receives the message that I really don't want to talk to her.)

Me: "Yes."

Her: "Wut is it?"

Me: (sigh in defeat) "It's a girl."

Her: "OH THAT'S JUST WUNDURFUL! Doya have a burth plan?"

Now, never being asked that question before, I kind of lose it. When I say that I've never been asked that before, I mean by ANYONE. Not my doctor. Not my friends. Not even my parents. Nobody has ever EVER asked me that.

Me: "Look, ma'am. I don't want to be rude, but I don't really like discussing this kind of stuff with my friends, much less a complete stranger."

(She looks slightly miffed, but remains silent.)

Me: "I mean, I'm not going to come up to you and ask you how many bones you've broken in your life or how many cigarettes you've obviously smoked this morning. Why? Because it's none of my business. Being clearly pregnant isn't an open invitation for random people to ask me lots of questions when all I'd really like to do is pay for my gas, this soda and go home. Does that make sense?"

Her: "Oh. Yer right. I'm sorree."

Me: "Thank you."

As I turn away to walk towards the counter to pay, I hear this:

Her: "So are ya dilated yet?"

REALLY?! You have got to be joking. No one can possibly be that thick. I had to pay quickly and leave because I knew that if I turned around I would surely kill her.

Thinking about that still irritates me, but it appears that story was a huge source of entertainment for Nick who laughed a LOT while I was recounting it to him. Through the tears that were forming in his eyes, he managed an, "I'm sorry, babe, but that's hysterical," before he died.

Just kidding. I didn't kill him.

Happy Monday!

Just Because Fridays: Link Up, Anyone?

2012-06-29T13:55:00.004-05:00

My dear readers,

I want to play a game with you. What are you doing on Tuesdays? Nothing? Perfect! Why don't you swing by my neck of the woods and link up with me for a brand new game called...

It doesn't have to be big. I don't want your deepest, darkest secrets. I don't want something you've never told anyone else. We don't need anyone being offended or angry. All I want is something fun, unusual, or downright strange about yourself, your pets, or your family.
For instance, I can't cross my eyes. Like, I physically cannot. I don't know why and I've always wanted to learn now. But, alas, I can't.
So, come on back here every Tuesday and link up with me for some silliness. Spread the word about your blog, and meet some pretty awesome people along the way. Whaddya say?

Am I The Only One?

2012-06-28T11:07:00.000-05:00

Another day, another linky party. Yay! Sometimes, they're just too much fun to pass up. Like this one from Five30Three.

*Am I the only one who can't say "Aluminum" correctly? I swear to Pete that every time I try, it comes out "Alunimum." I am not joking.
*Am I the only one who has a burning hatred for the women who have given birth before me? EVEN if their due date was about four months ago? Nothing personal, ladies. I'm sure I'll get over it once I pop, too.

*Am I the only one who wasn't a tummy sleeper before pregnancy, but has decided to sleep that way every night for a month afterward JUST because I can?
*Am I the only one who, at nearly 39 weeks pregnant, wants to kill someone instinctively because they reached in front of me at the grocery store instead of saying, "Excuse me" like a decent human being?

*Am I the only one who starts a movie and then immediately pulls out my laptop because I'm already bored?

Anyone? No? Just me, then. Cool.

Happy Thursday!

Five Faves

2012-06-27T11:30:00.004-05:00

There's this blog, you see, called Living with Fletch. She likes to play games at random times. There's really no rhyme or reason, but I thought I'd participate in one whenever she did it (if I can keep up.) This one is called...

...wait for it...

Five Faves

1. Favorite Movie:

Seriously, I could watch this movie every day for the rest of my life and not get sick of it. I know almost every line, and I still think it's hilarious. But, what's up with there being a TV show now?

2. Favorite Dog Breed:

I. LOVE. HUSKIES. First of all, they're gorgeous. Secondly, they're insanely smart. Unfortunately, our stupid complex won't let us have certain breeds because they're "too protective" and Huskies happen to be on the Do Not Own list.

3. Favorite Cosmetic Item:

THIS mascara. It makes my eyelashes CRAZY long (even though they're pretty long on their own) and super full. If you haven't tried it, you should. Consider this my stamp of approval.

4. Favorite Band/Album/Song:

Here's my favorite band. Love them forevah. But, you wanna know what my favorite album is?

Boom. This is the only album on this planet that I can listen to straight through without skipping any songs. It's magical. However, my favorite song?

HA! Were you expecting that? I know. It's really weird and they're all such different genre's. Don't judge.

5. Favorite TV Show:

Oh, Sam and Dean... the shenanigans you get yourselves into. I really and truly can't get enough of this show. I'll be forever grateful to that ex-boyfriend who introduced me to it way back during season 2. Now we're getting ready for SEASON 8! *squee!*

Oh, P.S. We ran out of cereal a few days ago, so I made Spam and eggs for breakfast today. Not my first choice, but whatever. Except, now our entire house smells like Spam. Ew. And it WILL NOT go away.
Happy Wednesday!

Prozac Nation

2012-06-26T14:16:00.003-05:00

What do you know about depression? Did you know that over 3% of people who have depression in the United States alone commit suicide? I did. I was one of them who tried.

I was always a happy child. I did the normal kid things. I laughed a lot. I ran around and had way too much energy. I didn't actually show signs of depression at all until I was about 13. For whatever reason, my whole world shattered then.

To cope with the depression, I would write poetry. Dark poetry. I rarely let anyone read them because they were so personal and "scary." When the poems wouldn't work, or if I had writer's block, I had other methods of coping.

One day at school, the nurse called me out of class into her office. The guidance counselor was also in attendance, as was my mother. The look on my mom's face said it all. She had finally discovered my secret. The nurse informed me that someone (I can't remember who, now) had come to her because she had seen my arm and was concerned. The nurse began to monitor me without my knowledge, and noticed that every few days, the scratches on my arm were multiplying. She then "took the liberty" of calling my mother and they had set up an intervention of sorts. Because they had caught me off guard like that, I didn't have any stories to tell. I couldn't talk my way out of it. Instead, I became angry. REALLY angry. Whoever that girl was had no right to interfere like that and I hated her for a long time. The stupid nurse should have talked to me first before calling my mom.

At least, that's how I felt then.

Shortly after that day, my parents began sending me to a therapist. I hated him, too. For the first month's worth of sessions, I just sat there. I wouldn't talk. I wouldn't even look at him. He didn't even care about me. I was just a paycheck to him.

I was wrong.

Eventually, I opened up enough to allow him to see that I needed help. Medical help. So, that's when I was first prescribed Effexor as a means to treat my depression.

It didn't work at first. I was still depressed. I was embarrassed because I had to take medication. I felt crazy.

I kept cutting.

Eventually, though, the medication was adjusted enough so that it worked. I could smile again. I was lifted up through the fog in my head. But, the damage had been done.

My scars made appearances in my senior pictures. They followed me to Europe, prom, and even my wedding. They will be here forever. Whenever I look at them now, I'm reminded of a Linkin Park song, "Figure .09"

I took that medication for nine years. Nine. Years. Only after I became pregnant did I realize that I needed to stop for the sake of my child. So, I began to wean myself off.

That's when I found out that Effexor was a narcotic.

I had cold sweats. I was shaky. I had migraines and "brain zaps". I was dizzy. I was emotional. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. But I did it for her.

I did it because I loved my unborn child enough to know that I didn't want her to ever have to experience these withdrawal symptoms after she was born. She didn't deserve that. So, I suffered through it for seven of the nine months of my pregnancy.

I am proud to say that I've been medication free for two and a half months. The process of removing the medication from my life had made this pregnancy a LOT harder than it should have been. There's a good chance that the lack of this drug has increased my weight gain a bit. But, I don't care. As long as Alexa is born healthy, happy and without complication, it was all worth it.

Maternity Mondays: 38 Weeks

2012-06-25T09:48:00.002-05:00

Oh. Mah. Gah. 38 Weeks? Sometimes, I feel like this has been one speedy nine months. Other times...

I feel bad for all those people who I encounter throughout the day. I have to constantly bite my tongue because I'm just so tired of answering the same questions over and over and over. So, instead of answering, "Oh! When is your baby due?" with "WHAT'S IT TO YOU, LADY!?!" I take a breath, smile, and say, "Oh, they keep telling me it's July 7th." Then, I share the fakest laugh in the world with whoever is talking to me, and quickly walk away from them before they can ask anything else. Although, I'll admit, I did answer that question once with, "When's my baby due? I'm not really sure I remember. It's hard to remember anything after the abduction." The look they gave me was absolutely priceless. Especially after I threw in my own rendition of Jenna Marbles' "Go Away Face".

My kid is going to be so messed up.

Updates: According to Dr. Manpants, if I haven't squeezed out this baby by July 13th, they're going to induce me. That's still, like, *counts in head* 18 days away! Ugh. I've never been so impatient for a single event in my entire LIFE.

"Funny" Stories: There's a park about a quarter mile away from our house with a Coke machine (okay, it's Pepsi, but who cares?) in front of one of the gazebos. On Saturday, I was seriously craving a Coke. Like, I'd have poked someone in the eye just so I could steal their soda. Anyway, I waddled down to the park with about a hundred quarters in my pocket only to find that the ENTIRE MACHINE was sold out. Seriously? To add insult to injury, there was some shindig going on inside that stupid gazebo and about forty people witnessed me jingling up to the machine, sighing in defeat, turning around and jingling back home. Uncool, man. That whole experience still pisses me off when I think about it. I think I actually jabbed the keyboard a bit too hard while I wrote it out for you.

Memorable Quotes:

*Nick walks into the living room to find me crying*

Nick: "Babe, what's wrong?"

Me: "I'm still pregnant."

News: I have a Facebook page now! There's a little clicky link under my picture over ---> there. If you feel so inclined, please take a few seconds to go and "Like" it! :)

Happy Monday!

P.S. I recently received this lovely little award for new bloggers from It's Me Again.........Pamela. Isn't that nice? Why don't y'all go on over and say hello to her? Tell her I sent ya.

A Conversation with my Body

2012-06-21T16:53:00.003-05:00

As a preface to this post, there's not a whole lot I can physically do anymore. That said, let me paint you a little word picture:

You finally get comfortable on the couch after huffing and puffing your way downstairs when you realize that you have to pee. Again. So, naturally, you hoist yourself up and go about your business. Upon coming back to the couch, you find that sitting in exactly the same position that was comfortable to you ten minutes ago is now horrifically uncomfortable. Great. It doesn't matter, anyways, because now you're hungry. Like, on the verge of death hungry. So, you waddle into the kitchen and make yourself a snack that you only end up eating half of because the baby shifted positions and is suddenly squashing a majority of your stomach. Whatever. You can just save it for later. After wrapping up your snack and putting it in the fridge, you realize how incredibly tired you are. You dread tackling the stairs again, but you know you'll never be able to fall asleep on the couch. Twenty minutes have gone by and you've finally made it up the stairs. Hooray! Too bad you can't breathe anymore because now the baby is using one of your lungs as a beanbag chair. After crawling the rest of the way to your bedroom and finding a decent position to lie in, it's time to pee again...

Okay, okay. I jest. It only takes me five minutes to get up the stairs.

After experiencing all of this just about every day, I've started to really become annoyed with my body. How in the world am I supposed to take care of a baby when I can hardly manage any of the normal bodily functions anymore? Fed up, I finally had to have a little prayer meeting with myself...

Me: Body, what gives? It's 2:00 in the morning and you aren't even tired! This is unacceptable.

Legs: We're tired.

Back: I'm always tired. Why do you think I scream at you to sit down so often?

Brain: Sorry about that. I'm too busy worrying. Don't you think you should figure out what to do if your baby was born without fingers?

Me: Um. Not really, Brain. That's really useless to worry about because the ultrasound showed that all of her fingers and toes are accounted for.

Brain: But what about....

Me: Give it a rest, Brain. Now, Belly, why don't you suck it in a little? You're looking a bit doughy.

Boobs: Hey! What are we going to rest on, then?

Me: Well, you could always sit up straight. I would actually prefer it if you did.

Boobs: No, thanks.

Belly: They keep me warm, anyway.

Me: What if I put on some more layers?

Belly: Oh, no. That would be far too hot. Actually, can you turn on the fan?

Legs: NO! We're tired! Please don't get up!

Back: But sitting down so much is hurting me...

Me: I thought standing up hurt you?

Back: It's both, really.

Me: Should I lie down, then?

Back, Boobs, and Belly: NO!

Legs: YES!

Me: Baby.... can you come out now?
Belly: I'm hungry...

Maternity Mondays: 37 Weeks

2012-06-18T12:37:00.001-05:00

Okay, so, I know that I said I'd post more pictures of my belly, and lately I, well.... haven't. Too bad! I'm pretty sure I won't be posting anymore pictures of myself until after this kid makes her debut. The plan is to take a before hospital/after birth picture, but we'll just have to wait and see.

Anyway, I'm full term! YAY! Every morning I wake up mildly disappointed that I didn't go into labor the night before. "Baby," I say, "It's okay to come out now. Seriously. What are you waiting for?" Then she wiggles all over the place and makes me die a little inside. "Baby," I say, "If you're so uncomfortable, you can COME OUT. You'll have a room all to yourself! ...and a body." But, apparently all she hears is that Charlie Brown "wah-wah" and completely disregards whatever the heck I'm saying.

I've attempted to do some of those DIY labor induction techniques. HA! That was a headache and a half. Someone actually suggested that I do jumping jacks. Jumping jacks! What the heck EVER. I literally have to roll myself out of bed in the morning and you want me to do jumping jacks? I actually laughed in their face and went on with my day as if I hadn't heard the most ridiculous theory in the history of ridiculous theories. But, I've managed to delude myself into thinking that, because it hurts so much when I sneeze, perhaps Nick should make me sneeze once I go into labor and the baby will just pop out. Don't laugh at me. It's worth a shot, anyway.

Latest Fears: That I'm going to need an episiotomy. (Google that nastiness. I am NOT posting a picture.) Just the thought of it makes me hurt and I'm pretty sure it makes Nick light-headed enough to faint.

Latest Cravings: Labor. ...and Cheetos.

Latest Realizations: In approximately two weeks there will be a baby in this house and I have no idea what I'm doing.

Latest Bout of Craziness: Recently I cleaned the entire house. I'm not sure why. I just decided that everything needed to be, like, sterile. So, I spent ALL DAY cleaning and then Nick came home from his landscaping job and walked all over the place in his dirty boots and I just about LOST my junk. Sorry, babe. I still love you.

Anyways, happy Monday!

Friday's Letters

2012-06-15T11:10:00.003-05:00

Dear Nick: Thanks so much for being an amazing and supportive husband. I would be such a mess without you. Also, thanks for getting up in the middle of the night because I was "screaming" about that hideous leg cramp and stretching it out for me. You're the best. Srsly.

Dear Alexa: You turned! All by yourself! I'm so happy and grateful that you figured that out even though it made me want to die while you were doing it. Thanks for bringing me one step farther from needing a C-Section! My baby is a genius.

Dear "Doctor Dillhole": Even though I think you're a huge jerk, thanks for at least taking the time to explain things to my husband so he didn't punch you in the throat for making me cry. I just have one piece of advice for you: People have feelings and you should treat them that way. It's not wise to treat a pregnant woman like a paycheck and disregard her worries and blow off her symptoms as "being normal" without explaining things further. Thaaaaaanks.

Dear Nose: What is this sorcery? Why are you so wide?! Go back to the way you were! When I smile you spread out all over my face and that's the main reason why I don't smile with my teeth showing anymore.

Dear Commenters: Thanks so much for reading my blog AND commenting on the entries. I read them all and they all make me smile my award-winning, nose-spreading smile. It looks something like this --> (c:

Dear Books Written by Foreign Authors: I enjoy reading you WAY more than books written by Americans. Your slang is hilarious and your wit is immeasurable.

Dear American Authors: Y U NO FUNNY LIKE IRISH OR BRITISH AUTHORS?

Dear Body: You had better shrink down to your original size when I'm done being pregnant. This whole "larger-than-life" thing is making me crazy and I can hardly take a shower without getting grossed out.

Dear Boobs: That goes for you, too. I had non-existent runner's boobs and I liked it.

Dear One Direction: Wouldja quit having such catchy songs? I feel a bit weird bopping around to a teenage boy band.

Dear Mom: Sorry to call you and burst into tears at random intervals. It's the hormones, I swear. I really don't care that much if I accidentally colored Iron Man purple because the crayon itself looked red. Promise.