This weekend provided The Boy and I with the perfect opportunity to practice some necessary skills for when Lucky comes home from the hospital with us and we will be his or her sole providers of care.

LESSON ONE: BATHING BABY

If baby should smell distinctly of mildew it is time to bathe the baby.  Please see the below steps to get baby smelling fresh and clean. 

1. Strip baby of all clothing and run water until scalding hot.
2. Plug the 1970s avocado sink in your mud room, pour in copious amounts of Purex detergent and then submerge baby in the sink as well as the orange corduroy sailor suit that baby was wearing for the past 20-odd years.
3. Let baby soak overnight

Example:

After ensuring that all signs of mildew odor are gone, remove baby from avocado sink and wring out torso, arms and legs as much as possible.  Please note: baby will still be very drippy wet.

You have two drying options at this point, I suggest a combination of the two for best results.

Option 1: Placing baby in front of the ceramic heater while on high.  Do be cautious that baby doesn’t actually TOUCH the ceramic heater as that would be a fire hazard.

Example:

Option 2:  Hang baby from the towel rack in the bathroom.  Be aware, baby may drip a lot so making sure that the area is safe for some water to accumulate.

Example:

After about 24-48 hours, baby should be fresh and dry and ready to be clothed and used for any necessary chores such as training dogs about being “gentle” with swaddled things.  Something tells me that dogs may not believe baby is “real” if you don’t ensure mildew has been mitigated.

Thanks to Sean Arthur for helping to get us ready to bring home our baby!

LESSON 2: CHANGING BABY’S DIAPERS

This one has proven difficult to get photographic evidence of to assist in the documentation as its a much more “hands-on” part of parenting. Apparently.

1. Chase baby around the house until you are able to straddle the baby, facing its rear-end, and squeeze its torso with your knees.

2.  Grab baby’s tail and attempt to draw it through the hole in the diaper for proper fit

3.  Quickly position the back of the diaper on the center of the baby’s lower back and grab the first waist strap and attempt to secure the strap to the back of the diaper using velcro.

4.  Once strap #1 is secure, try to locate strap #2 and repeat.  Keep in mind, you must try to keep the baby still during this time which proves difficult.

5.  Both you and baby can then take a nap.

Example:

So here I sit, 37 weeks and 2 days pregnant.  Is it weird that even with the constant movement, all-consuming preparation, constant mental list-making and now visible belly that this still doesn’t seem real.  I’m pretty sure reality is going to come crashing in here soon though!

I spent most of the night last night up with contractions which just felt mostly like some harsh period cramps and lower back cramping.  It was enough to keep me up but not enough to have me thinking it was “time”.  I can tell my body’s getting ready though, sort of like prenatal circuit training or something. 

I’m really looking forward to my appointment on Monday AM.  I’m curious about how much I’ve dilated with these new and improved contractions and to meet this doctor. She’s one the I feel like will be the best fit being that she’s a D.O not an M.D.  Not that I knew the difference until my friend Mr. Google helped me out.  A Doctor of Osteopathy has all the same training as an MD and has all the same rights and privileges and is licensed in the same ways but they also undergo training in Osteopathic Manipulative Medicine:

Osteopathic Manipulative Medicine (OMM) is the application of the distinct osteopathic philosophy when diagnosing and treating a patient. OMM takes into account the physical and mental health of a patient, and how either aspect could be contributing to the disease state. Included in this, a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine is trained to perform a structural diagnosis and use Osteopathic Manipulative Treatment (OMT) when appropriate.

The proof will be in the pudding but I’m excited nonetheless. 


Other than that, my dog is on the rag for the first time so despite being knocked up, I’m dealing with a period and the maintenance that goes along with that. 

And I sent The Boy off on a final excursion that would be all his own.  He loves to play cards so he found a card room nearby that was having a tournament.  I encouraged him to go – the man deserves some time to play! Well, he left 9 hours ago and has made it to the Top Ten and is at the final table.  Super proud of him but now bored and hoping he kicks some ass quick and comes back home to me! 

And with that extremely boring post, I leave you to go and get some mint chocolate chip ice cream.  Num.

Thanks going out to Amanda for the “TAG!” on her blog today.  As we all know already, I will quickly nab any opportunity to talk about myself a little more so a quick game of Twenty Questions sounds like just what the doctor ordered today*.

Rule #1: the tagged person must write their answers on their blog and replace any question they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.

Rule #2: tag 4 people to do this quiz; they cannot refuse (ok, so nothing bad will happen if you don’t participate but I would love to see your answers). The tag-ee must state who tagged them.

1. If you have pets, do you see them as merely animals or are they members of your family?
This TOTALLY depends.  My (irritatingly social) cats are currently locked in the back room because they’re harassing me – I would hope I would never do that to a family member.  That said, we completely spoil our dog and succumb completely to the fact that she’s soooo freaking cute. 

On the flip side, I do believe that pets are pets and that sometimes (particularly towards the end of animal’s lives) that people can get really over the top about sparing no expense to keep their pets alive.  In most cases, if my animal is very ill, I will put the wee love to sleep rather than try against the odds (and the pocketbook) to keep them around for another year or something. 

2. If you could have a dream come true, what would it be?
I would win the lottery to the tune of a billion dollars.  Oh how convenient.  On to #3. 

3. What would you do with a billion dollars?
Pay off our mortgages as well as the mortgages (and major debt) of all our immediate family members.  There is something soooooo alluring about having a paid off house over your head that I’ve always dreamed of.  From there I will secure accounts to pay for the education of my children as well as my nieces and nephews.  Then I would do every home improvement I want to do to this house, no I wouldn’t move to a bigger house, I would stay here but just make it perfect.   Then I would be philanthropic and do good things with the money like donate it and help others. 

4. What helps to pull you out of a bad mood?
Very little.  When I’m crabby (like I am today) its very tough to get me out of it.  Usually its just time and perspective. 

5. What is your bedtime routine?
Fall asleep on the couch.  Wake up.  Realize I should go to bed.  The Boy lets out the pooch while I feed the feline beasts and then we lock them away for the evening so we can get a little sleep.  Once in our room I brush my teeth, wash my face, slather Eucerin cream all over my belly and crawl into bed with my Snoogle.

6. If you are currently in a relationship, how did you meet your significant other?
Match.com – pathetic.

7. What kind of books do you read?
Since July pretty much only pregnancy and parenting crap.  I used to love reading anything that made me think.  My most recent favorites are the Tana French books: The Likeness, The Woods and she’s got a 3rd one that I’ve yet to get into, sadly enough.  Highly recommend these books if you like to be intellectually entertained.

8. How do you see yourself in 10 years?
Much the same as I am now but with a few more wrinkles and a few more family members.

9. What’s your fear? 
Shit, I have a ton of them.  I just try not to think about them.  I’m super scared of dying – I love living life too much, I just feel like I’d be getting so damn cheated if my life was cut short right now.  I’m scared of losing The Boy or the life we’re building together.  I’m scared of house fires.  I’m scared of car accidents.  You know, the norm.  Luckily I’ve been able to stifle most of these but if I ever stop being able to stifle I’m pretty sure I’ll have more anxiety than anyone else on Earth. 

10. Would you give up all junk food for the rest of your life for the opportunity to see outer space?
No freaking way.  I can see outer space in movies.

11. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?
Pee.  

12. If you could change one thing about your significant other, what would it be?
Can’t think of anything I’d change about HIM.  I can think of things I’d change about his family though.  Oops, that was rude.  

13. If you could pick a new name for yourself, what would it be?
I used to play this game all the time when I was little.  Then I grew comfortable with my name.  Although I have to say, the new married name is not nearly as great as my maiden name was so I miss that name a ton.

14. If you had to choose between six months of sun or six months of rain, what would you choose?
Six months of sun with a ton of sunscreen, a floppy hat and a big umbrella.

15. If you could only eat one thing for the next 6 months, what would it be?
Cheerios with Bananas

16. What is the thing you enjoy about blogging the most?
Talking about myself?  haha.  Just kidding – ACTUALLY, its getting back into the groove of keeping a journal which I used to do religiously in college.  I love being able to look back and see the changes in my self.

17. Do you prefer salty or sweet foods?
Usually, salty.  Pregnant?  SWEET TOOTH.

18. What items are in your purse right now?
5 types of lip gloss would be the only remarkable thing. 

19. If you had to choose between vacationing at the beach or in the mountains where would you go?
Beach with all the same supplies as #14. 

20. What do you watch on television that you know you shouldn’t?
Jersey Shore.  The Boy and I are totally addicted and we’re ashamed to admit it.  I watch it because it makes me feel smart and accomplished.  Isn’t that terrible?  Its like just watching allows me to take advantage of the old adage “blowing out someone else’s candle to make mine glow brighter”

The four people I tag are a mix of new and old…cuz I like to keep it interesting!

Shannon at Chasing Rainbows 
Kelly at Little Looman Log
Lesley at The Ordinary Adventure
Jessica at Knock Jessica Up

*We did have our appointment with a new doctor yesterday.  We’ll call her Dr. Manic and the name will explain itself.  Dilated to 1.5cm (almost two) and everything is looking good. 

I got mentally screwed at my 36 week appointment last Monday which I was totally NOT expecting.  I heard that things look great with my pink parts, the baby, my weight, all of it.  I should have left feeling great and secure but instead I left feeling resentful and angry.  I’ve spent the last week processing what happened and I think I’ve made some peace with it all as well as repaired some of the damage done by my doctor of 14 years.

We went in with our “birth preferences” sheet last week and after waiting an hour to see Dr. Phil (our appt was 8:50 and we were stuck there til 10:15), waiting for him to talk AT me for 20 minutes I finally told him that we had our birth preferences for him to add to our file so all the doctors in the practice will have access to it when we’re at the hospital.

Note: our birth preferences are just that, preferences*.  We have everything on a half sheet of paper with the acknowledgment that birth rarely goes according to plan and we’re open to any and all medical interventions if needed.  We are not high maintenance, stuck in our ways or at all ignorant about what we’re opting to do.

That doesn’t mean that my doctor didn’t make me feel that way.  He made me feel naive, uneducated and weak.  And friends, I’m anything but those three things.  I’ve spent the past 9 months preparing for Lucky’s arrival and the 11 months before that trying to get knocked up.  I know as much about what to expect and what can occur as I possibly can for a first time mother.

My doctor told me that I can “try” to do anything but that I will end up having an epidural.  I believe the biggest part of going into a natural birth is being mentally prepared for it.  With just that one sentence I felt the months of mental preparation start to unravel in my mind.  The more he spoke AT us about our preferences the more he made me feel like an idiot and the more I watched each little piece of my hard work start to shed away.

By the time I left there, I was back at square one.  Afraid of the birth process, unsure of what we had chosen as best for us and for the baby.  I was angry at him as I knew that no one should have this power over me and my choices but even more I was angry at myself for not being as mentally set about my decisions as I should have been.

I spent all last week trying to get back what I had lost in that one appointment.  Finally, on Friday, I called Deb, Nurse Practitioner Extraordinaire and I told her what I was feeling.  I should have called her on Monday.  I should have never left that office on Monday and waited around to see Deb and talk to Deb.  She told me the things I needed to hear:
*Natural Childbirth is a great and viable options
*I can do it
*I need to see a different doctor

So today, we see Dr. Two.  Next week, we see Dr. Three.  And for our 39 week, we see yet another Dr. in the practice.  All women and all advocates of the type of birth I want to have – healthy.  This is a really hard thing for me to do.  I’ve been seeing Dr. Phil for a long time, he got me pregnant, he saw me through a lot of stuff during that time.  But he’s shown me that he’s just not the right doctor for me and this pregnancy.  I get enough naysaying about opting for a hypnobirth (mother in law, sister) I don’t need it from my doctor too. 

And so hear I am, anxious about seeing a new doctor today.  Trying like mad to regain the confidence I had only 9 days ago and scrambling to make sure that one little man doesn’t get the best of me.  Stay Tuned.

*I added a page to the site that has our Birth Preference letter.  You can click at the link at the top if you’re interested.  

I know what you’re thinking – enough with the potty updates!!  I agree its just been so pervasive that it had to be mentioned.  I will keep things a bit cleaner here today.  Or at least I’ll make a concerted effort which is really all anyone can ask for, right?

I figured since we’re on weekly appointments now that maybe that warrants a more regular update on what’s going on in my womb rather than my colon.  Novel idea, no?

As of this week (tomorrow’s 36 weeks on the noggin) Lucky is estimated at 6.5lbs.  Next Monday they will actually measure more accurately to give us an idea of size (not sure if that means U/S or what) but 6.5lbs sounds like a good 40 week baby to me so I’m thinking the kiddo better slow down a bit.  That or I better get a’working on my taint. 

I’m dilated to 1cm and 80% effaced which doesn’t really make me think about having this baby soon.  As far as I know, I could be walking around like that for 5 more weeks.  I do hope that we have an early arrival but I’m realistic that may not be the case and frankly, I think I could use the extra time to mentally prepare myself.  I think because I’ve been carrying so small, my brain hasn’t grasped the fact that the beast inside is actually much larger than I would think.  The idea that if I went into labor tomorrow it would be normal and the doctors wouldn’t STOP it is a little bit daunting.  Okay, you got me, a lot bit daunting.

I’ve been scrambling in work and its pretty obvious.  I’m actually having one of the best quarters I’ve had in over a year and may very well hit “linearity” which means I’m at over 60% of my quota by 60 days in and I start earning accelerators…that would be nice while on leave, let me tell ya!  So I’ll just keep my head down and hope for the best.

The nursery is ready, stocked and done.  We’ve got everything we’ll need for the first week at the very least other than the things we’ll purchase for the kiddo once we know the gender (rug, curtains, artwork). 

Now I guess its just a waiting game huh?  But no worries, you won’t have to wait for too long if things happen.  Miss Josey has agreed to post an update here as soon as there is one because I know how tough it is to wait for updates when one of our bloggy friends has a big day and then we don’t hear anything for days on end.  🙂

Every time I watch Martha Stewart* or the Barefoot Contessa I giggle when they tell me to put my roast in to a Dutch Oven.  Although I am mature enough to understand that the term Dutch Oven long applied to a cooking apparatus before its alternative meaning, I can’t help it.  I laugh.  I also laugh whenever my mom asks if she should “toss the salad”.  The one time she told me during an allergy attack that I should put some “tea bags” on my eyes?  Well that was legendary. 

In December of 2008, The Boy and I were spending our very first Christmas together and we went to his parents home in Wisconsin.  If you don’t know much about Wisconsin take away these few little tidbits:
*Their love of cheese is not exaggerated
*The bar-to-citizen ratio is higher in Wisconsin than any other state in the union
*Holidays = eating from dusk til dawn: meal, appetizer, meal, dessert, snack, appetizer, meal, dessert, sleep

That night as we crawled into bed with some serious indigestion and bloating, we laughed about it, kissed and PROMPTLY fell into a deep sleep thanks to the fact that the room was freezing and we had about 20 lbs of comforter on us.  Per our usual routine, I wake up and have to pee (even back before my bladder became the size of a grape).  While getting up, I wake up the Boy and he also has to pee so upon my return he gets up to go.  After slapping hands and tag-teaming his way into the bathroom, I jumped into the bed and cozied my entire self, head and all, under the covers to get warm again. 

And then it hit me.  The stench.  That asshole had farted in the bed before leaving the room and I had just dutch oven’ed myself with his odor.  When he returned I asked him if he had left me a “little present” before leaving.  He played innocent and asked me what I was talking about.  I then told him that there was no denying it, I had totally just dutch oven’ed myself and I’m not sure he made it to the bed after that as he was laughing so hard. 

Fast-forward to the present day.  Let me set the stage.  I got a bikini wax yesterday.  Anyone out there that gets their nether-regions waxed knows that it can effect the sound of toots**.  Something about the lack of hair on the virgin skin makes them very reminiscent of the noise I used to make by blowing in the crook of my arm, mimicking flatulence.  Hence, no matter the size of the toot, the freshly waxed toot is impossible to keep silent. 

So I may have tooted a few times on the couch last night while we were enjoying our VERY romantic Valentine’s Day of pizza a la delivery.  They weren’t stinky (early on) they were mostly just…musical.  Then I fell asleep at 8pm on the couch and proceeding to snore my way through the next hour and a half (thank you pregnancy, you make me SOOOO sexy).  While brushing my teeth I made the unfortunate discovery that the toots had become aromatic, hence, it was time to start holding them in (until The Boy was asleep).  Unfortunately due to the toilet issues from yesterday, The Boy came into the bathroom to go pee and caught a whiff and informed me that it could “peel paint from the walls”.  Total exaggeration.  I have had WAY worse, these were just junior toots. 

After I was all ready, I crawled into bed next to The Boy and snuggled into my Snoogle pillow and he made another comment about my toot.  Believe it or not, I was actually embarrassed so I hid my head under the sheets to show my mortification and lo and behold…that fucker had farted, terribly, in bed.  And lo and behold, I had yet AGAIN dutch oven’ed myself with my husbands fart.  Commence much hollering and laughing. 

But then I proceeded to sleep for the next 11 hours without a single tinkle break so I’m thinking that I may have actually suffered some sort of a coma from the lack of oxygen. 

*Everyone tells me I look just like Martha Stewart, drives me fucking bonkers but whatevs, just as aside that she’s my celebrity doppelganger. 

**Have you noticed yet?  Women toot.  Men fart.  Just FYI.

(Any necessary term references can be researched at UrbanDictionary.com – you’re welcome)

I got up early on Saturday morning.  This isn’t unusual for me, I don’t sleep a whole lot past 8 or so under normal circumstances so add in multiple trips to the bathroom and some funked up dreams, 7am was about all that I had in me.

I, being the stellar wife that I am, let the boy sleep in.  I got up, fed the mammals, putzed around, put on HGTV and did my thing.  Until I had to “do my thing” in the bathroom.  Sidenote: pooing while pregnant is a very different experience.  Its infrequent, often difficult and overall, just not very…forthcoming.  Regardless, I went to the bathroom and actually had a very nice, normal evacuation of my bowels – it was a pleasant surprise.  But apparently my toilet had other ideas.

I flushed the toilet and it was relatively unresponsive.  It flushed, just not particularly well.  So, being that there was still some evidence remaining, I flushed again.  Only this time, NOTHING went down and all that was happening was some dirty water getting closer and closer to the rim of the toilet while sheer panic begins to strangle me.  Luckily there was a plunger just within arms length (from a previous not-so-simple evacuation of aforementioned bowels) and I dunked that sucker into the bowl and plunged with all of my might.  Sadly, to no avail.  The water started dribbling over the top of the toilet and with each drop that fell, a piece of my pride also fell.

Of course, The Boy can’t help but hearing me screaming “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! SHIT!” and rolls out of bed to find me pumping away at the toilet.  All he says is, “Well, good morning.”  I swore a bit more and told him I would take care of it.  There were, afterall, wee bits of my poo floating in the bowl by this point and nothing spells “ROMANCE IS GONE” like making your husband play around in your poo water.

But he took care of it, like he always does, Mister Fix-It fixed it.

Until a few hours later when I go to take a tinkle in the same toilet (we have three so please keep in mind, this entire post is in regards to ONE toilet).  I used up the end of the TP so good wife that I am, I go to replace it.  But the roll I usually kept on the back of the toilet was gone so I wiped, stood up, pulled up my pants and flushed.  I also grabbed a roll from the cabinet nearby and was going to put the holder through the roll and I dropped it, right into the flushing bowl.  And down it went.

Cue the second time that day I stood over the toilet screaming profanities.  The Boy came back, declared the TP roll holder dead and gone, laughed at me and said “Well, at least you were changing the roll”  He believes that I NEVER change the TP and that I always leave the empty roll.  While I’ll admit that I do sometimes have to plead guilt to said charges, its not something I ALWAYS do.  But moving forward, I have very good reason for not changing the TP.  I’m not very good at it.

Early in the evening we decided to clean up for the day as we had evening plans.  I started the shower, peed and then climbed in.  (I don’t flush before I shower for some reason I’ve been conditioned to believe it will scald me although that’s not the case in our house, I can’t explain it.)  After I got out of the shower, I peed again and tooted.  Now, when you’re nearly 9 months pregnant its virtually impossible NOT to toot when you pee, just saying.  And then I flushed, uneventfully – woo hoo.

I looked at The Boy while blow drying my hair and said “Before you get dressed do you want a little afternoon delight?”  He turned a looked at me and said “Today alone I’ve had a close encounter with your poop, watched you pee twice in the time span of 5 minutes and pretended not to hear you fart.”  (He had a point.)  “So you’re saying you don’t find me impossible to resist right now?” I asked him.  He informed me that while I was still quite sexy that maybe he just wasn’t quite in the mood at that point.  Fine.  Stoopid toilet, ruining my mojo.

Enter today.  I go to tinkle (I SWEAR, I did not poo, just #1), flush the toilet and return to my “office” (aka my couch) to get on a conference call.  In the middle of the conference call I realize that the toilet sounds as though its running so I walk to the bathroom and not only is it running but it has overflowed all over the bathroom floor and into the basement.  Currently, I have the water turned off to the toilet, towels soaking up the water, a flooded basement and a big “Fuck You” to my toilet.

The Boy is coming home early, yet again, to save the day.  I, on the other hand, plan to avoid that fucking toilet for a while. Oh and Happy Valentine’s Day!

Good Oak:  Wow!  What an amazing giveaway!!  I bet people are ready for these giant peeps to be replaced and I’ve always wanted a CUSTOM blog design! 

Selfish Oak:  But if I tell people about it on my blog won’t that lessen my chances of winning the giveaway?

Good Oak:  Yes but you’d be helping out a new small business owner and you know how much you love helping out new businesses. 

Selfish Oak:  Hrumf.  I s’pose.

Good Oak:  Besides, even if you don’t win the giveaway she only charges SEVENTY FIVE bucks for a full blog design…You’ll do it anyways.

Selfish Oak:  You’re right, I do love spending money on myself. 

*Go follow Ashley’s Blog and leave a comment as there isn’t a follower of my blog that I wouldn’t love to see with their own custom-designed blog template too!  

Thar she blows folks, a hump like a snow hill (very much like a snow hill) its my 35 week belly.  That doesn’t have the same effect as calling it Moby Dick, does it?  Ah well, that’s okay. 

And since I mentioned the fact that Lucky has a propensity to lodge all manner of limbs into the little space under my rib cage, I thought it would only be fair to also give props to my friend Kim, who sent me a link to this little gem this morning.  I could tell you the entire tale but the short version is that apparently when Pink’s baby moves she thinks of this scene from Spaceballs and then Pink’s statement made my friend think of me…Ipso facto, I’m just like Pink but without the divorce and remarriage thing.  (For some reason I can’t share the actual video here – boooo)

Oh that and our closest friends, who are getting married on March 19th (two days after our EDD), brought over our baby gift last night.  It consisted of the Bumpo from our registry, Boudreaux’s Butt Paste and a set of very racy nipple clamps to ensure that labor takes place long enough before their wedding that we can make it.  I died laughing and then I looked closer at the packaging and noticed that the woman probably has the BEST pair of gonzangas I’ve ever laid eyes on.  I mean, I suppose that she IS a nipple clamp model but come on…  I had a pretty severe case of boob envy going on.  

If I weren’t so lazy I would walk back and take a photo of the packaging…I’ll save that for next time, aren’t you all just so damned excited?  Well, that or you’re wondering when I became so obsessed with boobs.  Don’t worry, I always have been, I’m just letting you in on my little secret now.