I'm sure many of you are aware that it is Labor Day weekend, which means, just about everyone gets Monday off from work. I was talking to IQ about the weekend, and she complained that Mr. IQ had a short weekend. I asked if he had duty this weekend (when they have to spend 24 hours on the ship, "guarding" it). She said no. I pointed out that he got Monday off, right?!? Yes, he does. Well, doesn't that mean he has a three day weekend when normally he would only have a two day weekend. Yes, yes it does. Well, doesn't that make it a long weekend, instead of a short weekend? But, she pointed out, he didn't get a whole week off. No, no he doesn't because it is called a weekEND, meaning, just the end of the week, not the entire week. And then my brain exploded.
I honestly think that she believes that if Mr. IQ wasn't in the Navy, he wouldn't ever have to go to work. Seriously.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
How big?
I would like to say thank you to those of you who have offered to send me gifts. I really appreciate it, and it makes me feel guilty. I'm not good with giving gifts. I'll make you banana bread and bring it to you, clean your house and babysit for you, but gifts, I'm not so good at. And since you all live far, far away, making you banana bread, cleaning your house and babysitting your babies really isn't practical. So thank you. You make me feel special.
Today I had an appointment with a fetal medicine doctor. I have this weird placenta thing (I have an extra one: do you think I could sell it on Craig's list?). Anyway, they're afraid that the cord may be in a weird place and therefore, the baby may not be growing enough. I was a little nervous for a couple of reasons. First, (if I've already said this, sorry) Wes's ship gets back on Oct. 7th. Then it leaves again on Nov. 7th for three weeks. I'm due on Nov. 8th. Wes was told that if I have the baby after Nov. 7th, he doesn't have to leave with the ship. He would be able to stay here for THREE WHOLE WEEKS!!!! WITHOUT WORKING!!!! However, if I have the baby before the ship leaves on Nov. 7th, he has to go with it (even if I have the baby on Nov. 6th, unless we could hide it). But if the baby isn't getting the nourishment she needs, they would induce early, which means Wes would have to go. That would be horrible. Second (and this probably should have been first), I want my baby to be healthy. Third, I had this fear they would tell me it's actually a boy. Not that I don't want a boy, but I've already told everyone it's a girl and we have a name picked out and now I want a girl.
Sooooo, it's still a girl!!! Which is exciting. And, the baby is normal size. Matter of fact, according to all the pregnancy web sites and books, she's actually really kind of big. But the doctor said she is a completely normal size. They said she weighs 3 lbs, 13 oz. And they confirmed where she is (I mean, besides my tummy). Her head is on my left side, a little below my belly button and her body and butt are on my upper right hand side. She's rolled around and kicked, but she hasn't actually moved from this position for about a month (although she is moving down, which is good). Although the doctor was my mom's age, I don't think he's ever seen a placenta like mine before. He seemed very, well, not confused, but just surprised. So I guess I'm special. Anyway, for now, things look good, and I go back in a month, just to make sure.
Today I had an appointment with a fetal medicine doctor. I have this weird placenta thing (I have an extra one: do you think I could sell it on Craig's list?). Anyway, they're afraid that the cord may be in a weird place and therefore, the baby may not be growing enough. I was a little nervous for a couple of reasons. First, (if I've already said this, sorry) Wes's ship gets back on Oct. 7th. Then it leaves again on Nov. 7th for three weeks. I'm due on Nov. 8th. Wes was told that if I have the baby after Nov. 7th, he doesn't have to leave with the ship. He would be able to stay here for THREE WHOLE WEEKS!!!! WITHOUT WORKING!!!! However, if I have the baby before the ship leaves on Nov. 7th, he has to go with it (even if I have the baby on Nov. 6th, unless we could hide it). But if the baby isn't getting the nourishment she needs, they would induce early, which means Wes would have to go. That would be horrible. Second (and this probably should have been first), I want my baby to be healthy. Third, I had this fear they would tell me it's actually a boy. Not that I don't want a boy, but I've already told everyone it's a girl and we have a name picked out and now I want a girl.
Sooooo, it's still a girl!!! Which is exciting. And, the baby is normal size. Matter of fact, according to all the pregnancy web sites and books, she's actually really kind of big. But the doctor said she is a completely normal size. They said she weighs 3 lbs, 13 oz. And they confirmed where she is (I mean, besides my tummy). Her head is on my left side, a little below my belly button and her body and butt are on my upper right hand side. She's rolled around and kicked, but she hasn't actually moved from this position for about a month (although she is moving down, which is good). Although the doctor was my mom's age, I don't think he's ever seen a placenta like mine before. He seemed very, well, not confused, but just surprised. So I guess I'm special. Anyway, for now, things look good, and I go back in a month, just to make sure.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
The difficulties of cooking pasta
As this pregnancy moves along, and I get bigger and bigger, and more and more uncomfortable, I find it harder and harder to suffer fools. This makes it quite difficult to spend time with IQ, talk to IQ, think about IQ. So I thought if I told some IQ stories, it would make me feel better.
I first met IQ the week Wes and I eloped. There was a formal naval dinner (and I looked great!) for all the officers and their wives/girlfriends. Wes's ship is fairly small, so I literally met everyone there. When he introduced me to Mr. IQ and IQ, he mentioned I was working on my Ph.D. IQ looked at me, with all sincerity, and said, "hey that's cool, because I'm working on my bar tending licence." We moved away and I looked at Wes and asked, "Did she seriously just compare working on a Ph.D to getting a bar tending licence?" Yes, yes she did. I vowed that I would try to stay away from her after that.
The next interaction I had with her was more than a year later. The ship was deployed and our two husbands were being flown back to attend school in Rhode Island. Now, IQ doesn't drive, but like me, she wanted to spend some time with her husband. I offered to drive her back from Rhode Island. She couldn't help drive, but at least she could help me stay awake. I figured I would just make the best of it. I learned several things that day. First, she grew up in foster care because her parents didn't know how to take care of her. Second, she is aware that she is learning disabled (and blames everything she doesn't want to do on that, but that's a different story) and third, she wants to be a cook and start her own restaurant.
I love to cook! Great, we have something in common. We can talk about that!!! Yay!!! So, what do you like to cook? Her: Well, I've made soup before. Me: What kind of soup? Her: I don't remember. Me: um, ok, anything else? Her: I can make spaghetti. And that was the end of that conversation because apparently, that's all she knew how to cook.
After the guys completed the 6 week school, they had to go back to the ship. They were gone like 2 weeks before they got back. I took IQ to the pier to get the guys. She was very upset because her husband had duty, meaning, he wasn't able to come home. Her: I'm so mad!!! I can't believe he has duty. And I bought him his favorite Hungry Man for dinner too. So said the woman who wants to be a cook.
Over the next couple of months, I discovered that she doesn't actually cook ANYTHING!!! And what she does "cook" is stuff from the frozen food section and she microwaves it (including mashed potatoes. Who doesn't make their own mash potatoes?)!!! Several times I would tell her what "exotic" food I was cooking and she would complain that it took too long or was too hard or what is Indian food anyway. If you wanted to be a cook, wouldn't you actually cook stuff? Once she showed me the syllabus to the cooking school she wanted to attend (and I have to give her credit for actually taking the initiative and doing something, because, as my next IQ blog will show, she never actually does anything). I noticed that one of the classes was only about weights and measures. IQ had told me that she wasn't very good at math (actually, she told me her family had gotten her a leap frog math game to help her). I pointed out that that would be a very difficult class for her (and for me). She laughed and said that because of her disability, she didn't have to take the class and they would just have to understand that. I didn't feel the need to explain to her that that is NOT how the American with disabilities act works (after working at a university as a TA, I kind of know how it works). I knew she would never actually get to school anyway.
Fast forward ahead to this year. She wants me to come over for dinner. She is making spaghetti. I try to ignore the fact that her house is disgusting (more on that next post). I figured she knew how to make spaghetti, since she told me she did. I get there, there's a big pot of water on the stove. Every couple of minutes she would yell for Mr. IQ to come check the water to see if it was time to put the spaghetti in. Apparently, she can't tell when water is boiling. Finally, it was good enough. So she put it in. Then, after that, she kept yelling at him to tell her when it was done. She doesn't make her own sauce, she opened up a jar of sauce. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with jarred sauce, except for the fact that she claims she wants to be a cook and she claimed that she knows how to make spaghetti. Then she made pudding, and again, had to ask Mr. IQ if it was done (it was instant pudding). Overall, a very interesting night. All I can say, if you ever see a restaurant owned by IQ, don't eat there.
I first met IQ the week Wes and I eloped. There was a formal naval dinner (and I looked great!) for all the officers and their wives/girlfriends. Wes's ship is fairly small, so I literally met everyone there. When he introduced me to Mr. IQ and IQ, he mentioned I was working on my Ph.D. IQ looked at me, with all sincerity, and said, "hey that's cool, because I'm working on my bar tending licence." We moved away and I looked at Wes and asked, "Did she seriously just compare working on a Ph.D to getting a bar tending licence?" Yes, yes she did. I vowed that I would try to stay away from her after that.
The next interaction I had with her was more than a year later. The ship was deployed and our two husbands were being flown back to attend school in Rhode Island. Now, IQ doesn't drive, but like me, she wanted to spend some time with her husband. I offered to drive her back from Rhode Island. She couldn't help drive, but at least she could help me stay awake. I figured I would just make the best of it. I learned several things that day. First, she grew up in foster care because her parents didn't know how to take care of her. Second, she is aware that she is learning disabled (and blames everything she doesn't want to do on that, but that's a different story) and third, she wants to be a cook and start her own restaurant.
I love to cook! Great, we have something in common. We can talk about that!!! Yay!!! So, what do you like to cook? Her: Well, I've made soup before. Me: What kind of soup? Her: I don't remember. Me: um, ok, anything else? Her: I can make spaghetti. And that was the end of that conversation because apparently, that's all she knew how to cook.
After the guys completed the 6 week school, they had to go back to the ship. They were gone like 2 weeks before they got back. I took IQ to the pier to get the guys. She was very upset because her husband had duty, meaning, he wasn't able to come home. Her: I'm so mad!!! I can't believe he has duty. And I bought him his favorite Hungry Man for dinner too. So said the woman who wants to be a cook.
Over the next couple of months, I discovered that she doesn't actually cook ANYTHING!!! And what she does "cook" is stuff from the frozen food section and she microwaves it (including mashed potatoes. Who doesn't make their own mash potatoes?)!!! Several times I would tell her what "exotic" food I was cooking and she would complain that it took too long or was too hard or what is Indian food anyway. If you wanted to be a cook, wouldn't you actually cook stuff? Once she showed me the syllabus to the cooking school she wanted to attend (and I have to give her credit for actually taking the initiative and doing something, because, as my next IQ blog will show, she never actually does anything). I noticed that one of the classes was only about weights and measures. IQ had told me that she wasn't very good at math (actually, she told me her family had gotten her a leap frog math game to help her). I pointed out that that would be a very difficult class for her (and for me). She laughed and said that because of her disability, she didn't have to take the class and they would just have to understand that. I didn't feel the need to explain to her that that is NOT how the American with disabilities act works (after working at a university as a TA, I kind of know how it works). I knew she would never actually get to school anyway.
Fast forward ahead to this year. She wants me to come over for dinner. She is making spaghetti. I try to ignore the fact that her house is disgusting (more on that next post). I figured she knew how to make spaghetti, since she told me she did. I get there, there's a big pot of water on the stove. Every couple of minutes she would yell for Mr. IQ to come check the water to see if it was time to put the spaghetti in. Apparently, she can't tell when water is boiling. Finally, it was good enough. So she put it in. Then, after that, she kept yelling at him to tell her when it was done. She doesn't make her own sauce, she opened up a jar of sauce. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with jarred sauce, except for the fact that she claims she wants to be a cook and she claimed that she knows how to make spaghetti. Then she made pudding, and again, had to ask Mr. IQ if it was done (it was instant pudding). Overall, a very interesting night. All I can say, if you ever see a restaurant owned by IQ, don't eat there.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
A few bright spots
I haven't written anything lately because it would look like this: I'm so uncomfortable!!! I can't sleep!!! It's hard to clean my house!!! I miss my husband!!! I have no baby stuff, no one to throw me a shower and a baby that will be here soon!!! And really, who wants to read that?
The house is slowly getting under control. I had a yard sale yesterday and sold a whopping $2.50 worth of stuff. So I divided the stuff up and I'm going to call the people who recycle computer stuff to come pick up that stuff, I have the stuff that will go to Goodwill and then the stuff I'm going to try to sell on Craig's list. Because I had more than 15 sweaters out there and nice business casual clothes. Now that I live in Virginia instead of Wisconsin, I don't really need 25 sweaters and since I'd gained weight before I got pregnant, I'll never fit in those size 2 khakis again (at least, I really hope not. I was too skinny). But I might as well try to get some money of that stuff. I have baby stuff I need to buy!
I updated my baby registry yesterday. I really am trying to keep it simple, but I still ended up with 47 items on my list. Now, a lot of that is burp clothes, blankets, bibs, you know, small stuff. But, I also need some really big stuff, like, I don't know, a place for the baby to sleep (I'm not doing co-sleeping because I have a huge fear of rolling over and smothering the baby). My husband's side of the family keeps telling me they're going to get me something, but I don't know what that is. A crib, a swing, a pack of diapers, pacifiers, what? And I don't want to buy a crib and then get the gripe that "We were going to get you that." Well, it would have been nice to know. I guess I just need to call my father-in-law and tell him that I'm not having a shower and then plain out ask what they were planning on getting us. Don't get me wrong, friends have already gotten me stuff, so it's not like I won't have anything, I just won't get to open up stuff with friends and family here and have cake. And, when updating my registry, I noticed that almost 10 items (relatively big items, like the swing, the pack n' play and all the nursery stuff) is temporarily out of stock. So now I think I'm going to register at Babies r us in addition to Target, because maybe their baby stuff is in stock. Who knows? (Also, if you're reading this and wondering why I did not register for baby clothes, it's because everyone likes to buy little girl clothes, and I didn't want to dictate the fun of that. But I should add, we have no baby clothes.)
Now, on to the bright spots. My husband called me after 4 days of not hearing from him. Yay! I got to talk to my friend Tiffany after playing phone and e-mail tag for a week or two. Yay! The gym's pool opened back up. Triple yay!!! I love to swim. And, to top everything off, I discovered that Ben and Jerry's makes frozen yogurt!!! In chocolate fudge brownie flavor!!! Life can't get any better than that!!!
The house is slowly getting under control. I had a yard sale yesterday and sold a whopping $2.50 worth of stuff. So I divided the stuff up and I'm going to call the people who recycle computer stuff to come pick up that stuff, I have the stuff that will go to Goodwill and then the stuff I'm going to try to sell on Craig's list. Because I had more than 15 sweaters out there and nice business casual clothes. Now that I live in Virginia instead of Wisconsin, I don't really need 25 sweaters and since I'd gained weight before I got pregnant, I'll never fit in those size 2 khakis again (at least, I really hope not. I was too skinny). But I might as well try to get some money of that stuff. I have baby stuff I need to buy!
I updated my baby registry yesterday. I really am trying to keep it simple, but I still ended up with 47 items on my list. Now, a lot of that is burp clothes, blankets, bibs, you know, small stuff. But, I also need some really big stuff, like, I don't know, a place for the baby to sleep (I'm not doing co-sleeping because I have a huge fear of rolling over and smothering the baby). My husband's side of the family keeps telling me they're going to get me something, but I don't know what that is. A crib, a swing, a pack of diapers, pacifiers, what? And I don't want to buy a crib and then get the gripe that "We were going to get you that." Well, it would have been nice to know. I guess I just need to call my father-in-law and tell him that I'm not having a shower and then plain out ask what they were planning on getting us. Don't get me wrong, friends have already gotten me stuff, so it's not like I won't have anything, I just won't get to open up stuff with friends and family here and have cake. And, when updating my registry, I noticed that almost 10 items (relatively big items, like the swing, the pack n' play and all the nursery stuff) is temporarily out of stock. So now I think I'm going to register at Babies r us in addition to Target, because maybe their baby stuff is in stock. Who knows? (Also, if you're reading this and wondering why I did not register for baby clothes, it's because everyone likes to buy little girl clothes, and I didn't want to dictate the fun of that. But I should add, we have no baby clothes.)
Now, on to the bright spots. My husband called me after 4 days of not hearing from him. Yay! I got to talk to my friend Tiffany after playing phone and e-mail tag for a week or two. Yay! The gym's pool opened back up. Triple yay!!! I love to swim. And, to top everything off, I discovered that Ben and Jerry's makes frozen yogurt!!! In chocolate fudge brownie flavor!!! Life can't get any better than that!!!
Monday, August 18, 2008
It's not grandma's, but it's home
I made it home!!! Only 45 minutes later than I was supposed to (thanks thunderstorm!) which means I got home at midnight. After sitting in a car for 4 hours and then a plane for 4 hours, I didn't do much yesterday. I did go get groceries and discovered, to my delight, that the commissary now carries Virginia grown produce, so I didn't have to make a separate trip to the local farmers' market. However, upon getting home, I realized my air conditioner wasn't working. Thankfully they were able to get it fixed on the same day. But let's look at some pictures of my Minnesota trip!
This is my grandma, brother and Phoenix
My cousin's husband, her baby, (who is adorable) my cousin Shante and me.
Here is the quilt that I made!
This is my grandma, brother and Phoenix
The two girls are cousins' kids and then Phoenix (who is a year older than both of them)
We took the middle one to church with us, and everyone thought she was mine because we look alike. Half of us cousins got the Scandinavian coloring of my grandma and all look alike.
My cousin's husband, her baby, (who is adorable) my cousin Shante and me.Shante is the cousin I feel closest to and spend the most time with (she drove me the four hours to my grandma's and then back again).
Here is the quilt that I made!I had a great time in Minnesota, but it was also a little sad. When I go, I usually have grandma all to myself for most of the time. But now (or after the birth of Navy Bean) it won't be that simple. It'll be harder to get there and I'll have to share my grandma! I want my baby to know her though, because, other than my mom, she has been the most influential and important woman in my life. I love my grandma so much and I hope she's around for another 20 years or so (it could happen. She has had several family members make it past 100).
But, I am glad to be home. I am still really uncomfortable, but the little Navy Bean has decided that under my ribs is not very comfortable. I'm trying to clean my house, but not just clean it, spring clean it. This is a little difficult because of all the breaks I have to take, my lack of flexibility and the fact that I just can't lift very much. The good news it, I don't have anything else to do until she is born. I'm hoping this time both flies by and stands still.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Time flies when someone's kicking you
I have hit the final trimester, otherwise known as, the time when you will never be comfortable. Ever. No matter what you try to do, walk, stand, sit, lie down, stretch, whatever, it will hurt somewhere. I have discovered my tailbone. And it hurts. Now I know some of that weight I gained went to my butt, so why isn't it working like a cushion. My grandma was delighted the other day when I placed her hand on my belly and she got kicked about 4 times in less than 10 seconds, but then she asked, alarmed, "What is she doing in there?" I'm not really sure. Moving furniture? I think we may need to change her name from Navy Bean to Jumping Bean. The kicks and hits are coming from farther and farther places on my belly, and I noticed, today, for the first time, that she is obviously trying to place her small body in even smaller places she has never ventured before. Like under my ribs. Maybe that's where she's putting the couch.
This week we watched my cousin's four year old daughter. The first day, she played with the balloons from my grandma's birthday for about an hour. After a while, I got up to walk into the kitchen and she looked at me very strangely. "Hey, is that a balloon under your shirt?" "No, it's a baby." Then she looked at me even more strangely. She placed a balloon under her shirt. "Hey, is that a baby under your shirt?" "Noooooo! It's a balloon."
I am now working on a quilt. We'll see how much I get done before I leave. I'm hoping enough that I can figure out how to finish it when I get home. Well, that's about it here for now.
This week we watched my cousin's four year old daughter. The first day, she played with the balloons from my grandma's birthday for about an hour. After a while, I got up to walk into the kitchen and she looked at me very strangely. "Hey, is that a balloon under your shirt?" "No, it's a baby." Then she looked at me even more strangely. She placed a balloon under her shirt. "Hey, is that a baby under your shirt?" "Noooooo! It's a balloon."
I am now working on a quilt. We'll see how much I get done before I leave. I'm hoping enough that I can figure out how to finish it when I get home. Well, that's about it here for now.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
That's just great!
I am using the internet at the library of a small, rural Minnesota farming community. I cannot get into facebook, because apparently, too may people post naked pictures of themselves on facebook. However, since all my facebook friends are either relatives or people I met at church in Wisconsin, not being able to get there is a tad bit ironic. Also, I cannot get to one of the blogs I normally read. Check out my links and guess which one! But at least I can check e-mail and post stuff here.
My grandma's 80th birthday party went great. Well, as great as a party, organized by the most anal retentive bitchy (I didn't say that!) relative that no one likes can be. She managed to really piss my mom off, but she didn't cry or hit her (I would have done both and gotten away with it, because I'm pregnant!). Seeing all the family was wonderful, although I didn't have as much time with some of my cousins as I would have liked. Funnily, I was able to spend more time with my brother here than when I go home (we shared a motel room, and at home there's always 50 people around). That was really nice. However, I am tired of all the women in my grandma's generation, who haven't had babies in 50 years, tell me how huge I am. I don't know how many times I had to verify that yes, I'm only 6 months, there's only one, and yes I know for sure the conception date because my husband is in the navy and is never home, thus, very easy to figure out when it happened. Besides, I CAN STILL SEE MY STUPID FEET, so I'm not that big (I cannot however, reach them very easily). But they're all gone now, so I don't have to worry about it. Now, I'll just make sure I walk plenty and eat as well as I can.
Well, I hope everyone is well. Who knows when I will get back here again to update.
My grandma's 80th birthday party went great. Well, as great as a party, organized by the most anal retentive bitchy (I didn't say that!) relative that no one likes can be. She managed to really piss my mom off, but she didn't cry or hit her (I would have done both and gotten away with it, because I'm pregnant!). Seeing all the family was wonderful, although I didn't have as much time with some of my cousins as I would have liked. Funnily, I was able to spend more time with my brother here than when I go home (we shared a motel room, and at home there's always 50 people around). That was really nice. However, I am tired of all the women in my grandma's generation, who haven't had babies in 50 years, tell me how huge I am. I don't know how many times I had to verify that yes, I'm only 6 months, there's only one, and yes I know for sure the conception date because my husband is in the navy and is never home, thus, very easy to figure out when it happened. Besides, I CAN STILL SEE MY STUPID FEET, so I'm not that big (I cannot however, reach them very easily). But they're all gone now, so I don't have to worry about it. Now, I'll just make sure I walk plenty and eat as well as I can.
Well, I hope everyone is well. Who knows when I will get back here again to update.
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