Because Gestating is Not Enough...

To Do List Before #2 Arrives:

1) Play Musical Bedrooms. G's room will become the nursery. Our room will become G's room. The front guest bedroom/office will become our room. Did I mention I have to clean out all three rooms and purge all the junk? I've been chipping away at it, but I have no idea how we've accumulated so much crap in five years.

2) Decorate Said Rooms. Paint. I think that's about all I can handle. I've picked out the nursery theme after about two months of agonizing. I wanted something girly but not over the top. Mostly, I didn't want all pastel - and this is what I chose:

[Yes, it's Pottery Barn. I tried to go all indie, but PB kept pulling me back in. Don't judge.]

You see that tiny bit of aqua in the corner of the bumper? That's the wall color. I think. So yes, there's a little pink, but the red kind of toughens it up a bit. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

3) Convert the Garage into a Family Room. I'm actually laughing at myself as I type this, because I think the chances of this happening are comparable to winning the lottery. We need the space so bad. But I'm thinking this will stay firmly on the to do list.

4) Have Some Kind of Garage Sale. Or, in alternative, rent a Uhaul and make a trip to Goodwill. Or have a massive bonfire in the backyard. This last option may become more viable the more stressed and crazy I get.

5) Potty Train G. Just kidding. This is a pipe dream. I've read all the books. I've tried several methods including just putting underwear on him and watching him like a hawk. Inevitably, I turn my back for five seconds and there's an accident. Am I getting judgment? Yes. Mostly from older relatives who are like, JUST FORCE HIM. Yeah. That's a great idea. I love the idea of scarring my child for life so things can be more convenient for me. Plus? I'm guessing even if I got him 'trained' by the time baby arrives, he'll regress. So potty training goes on the back burner. I'll just keep telling myself that he won't go to Kindergarten in diapers.

6) Pick Baby's Middle Name. Okay, I don't usually put my older child's name in this blog, but I'll this one time tell you (or maybe when she's born too) baby girl's name: we're calling her Charlotte. This has been our girl name for long before G was born. So now we need a middle name. I have a few in my head, but usually my ideas are poo-pooed immediately. I'm thinking maybe I won't bring it up at all and just use the one I pick when I fill out her birth certificate info? Cunning, I know. But I'm open to suggestions. I grew up with a super vanilla middle (and, let's face it, first) name, so unusual is good. Just no crazy spellings. That drives me nuts.

7) Stock the Freezer. I did a pretty good job of preparing and freezing meals before G was born and it was a life saver. I need to do the same this time, but I need some ideas. I usually do turkey chili, spaghetti sauce and a bunch of soups. If anybody has any easily freezable recipes, sent them to me...please! I'll love you forever. Not that I don't love you already...

I know there's much more I need to tackle. Those are the biggies.

Oh. I forgot something.

8) Try Not to Lose My Mind. It might be too late...

Blame The Social Network

This is one of those posts where I have a million things going through my head but can't settle on one to write about.

My brain won't stop. It started about an hour ago, this unsettled feeling. I don't know why. What happened. Today was a really good day. Only a few meltdowns (from toddler), a birthday party for one of my dearest friend's son. Overall, laid-back busy. If that makes any sense.

After my son went to bed, my husband and I actually watched a movie together, which is super rare. We picked The Social Network - which was fantastic. (And I'm sure they took a lot of artistic license, but has Mark Zuckerberg been officially diagnosed with Aspergers or what?)

When the movie was over, the husband cut out to play World of Warcraft (I'm not even going to start on this...I'm such a WOW widow) and I got REALLY antsy. As in, it's 11:30 and I really should go to bed, but I need to clean the kitchen and put away laundry and start another load and, and, and...

All the while, I'm having a conversation with myself and it's going something like this:

"Wow, that kid is a billionaire and he's like 26 or something.You will be 33 in May. What have you accomplished.No seriously. What?"

And I'm beating myself up in my head while scrubbing the hell out of the kitchen counter.

Listen, it's not like I feel the need to be a billionaire. Not at all. Even though not having to worry about money would be a welcome change.

It's more the principal of the thing. Let's just say the dreams I had for myself when I was fresh out of college have very much gone by the wayside. So much so, I honestly can't remember what they were.

Yes, part of my plans included having a family. But I've never been one of those people that was like 'all I want in life is to be a mom.' It's just not me. I can't pretend that I'm okay with just dissolving into my family, becoming nonexistent.

I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning. I really hate when I get into these funks and start questioning everything. I think about jobs. I think about getting laid off. I think about choosing the wrong college. The wrong major (cause honestly, an English degree without a teaching certificate is really doing me NO good).

Then I tell myself I did one thing right. I picked my husband. That was good. And that wouldn't have happened if I'd gone to another college.

I guess it boils down to the feeling of being purpose-less. Okay, semi-purpose-less (how many hyphens can I fit into one word). I know that my main purpose is being a wife and a mom. And I love that. But then what?

You know, I completely blame The Social Network for tonight's insomnia. Next time I'm totally picking something that will make me feel like a winner.

In fact, I'm putting Joe Dirt on RIGHT NOW.

Purge 2011 aka I'm Crazy Pregnant

In a little over three months, I will have a newborn. Scratch that...I will have a willful, 'busy' three year old (whom I adore) AND a new baby.

What was I thinking? Panic is setting in.

How do I deal with panic? Apparently, this time around it's manic organizing. Like today. Today I went through my spice cabinet. Chucked a ton of stuff. Things I never use (whole coriander seeds?) that I'm not sure I even bought, maybe they came with the house? Spices that didn't smell liken anything anymore. That can't be good.

Then I got really crazy. I pulled out my giant box of photos from high school, and purged it by half. Yes, I tossed photographs. Which is generally against everything I believe. But I've got the pregnancy crazies, and by God, I do not need 30 out of focus photos of my sophomore prom date.

A side note, I found a receipt from The Gap in that box from 1994, for a pair of jeans. Guess how much they cost?

$34. I kid you not.

Anyway, I'm kind of scaring myself. I'm worried I'll end up throwing something important out in one of my fits. Then again, it would probably be wise to just roll with this newfound ability to shed unnecessary crap. Since in real life, I'm a few boxes of twist ties away from Hoarders.

Mother of the Year

Ugh.

I can't believe I let my little man's birthday pass with out a post!

Don't worry, at least we celebrated in real life. Which I guess is the important thing.

So, a few days late, Happy Birthday, G-Rex!


I love everything about you. I love that you're 'busy'. How you are so sensitive and always asking how I'm feeling.

How you say 'grayby' for gravy and 'eyegrows' for eyebrows.

How you will pick fruit and vegetables over junk food every day of the week.

That you love Wall-E and seem to understand it better than a three year old should.

That you watch ESPN with Daddy and know who Kornheiser and Wilbon are.

And your obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine? Oh.My.Goodness.

I just love you, kiddo. You've made me a better person. It is absolutely my privilege to be your mama.

I just can't wait to see you as a big brother and watch you grow.

Late Breaking News: Va Jay Jay Wand Works!

So I'm reading the title to this post and it sounds a lot like I'm writing about a sex toy. But I'm leaving it, cause I want people to be all disappointed when they come here to perv out and I'm talking about the gender of my unborn child.

You all are sick. Sick, I say!

Anyhow, I'm very late getting here to report that we are, to the relief of many family members, having a girl child. And don't get me wrong, I'm beyond thrilled. Over the moon (gag). But I have to be honest...all the boy hate had me a little up in arms and indignant.

Moving on, though. Moving on. I'm a little over halfway through this pregnancy. I don't know if it's the extra girl fetus estrogen, but I have to admit, I've been a weepy mess. Yeah, I know pregnant ladies are emotional, but I can barely even turn the television on these days without getting verklempt. Have you seen those 'Foundation for a Better Life' spots? Brutal. BRUTAL.

My little G has been sick since Sunday. There is nothing worse than the look of terror on a little kid's face when they throw up. I think he's on the upswing. Now here's to hoping I don't get sick. Where's the Purell?

This little post is going to be, well, little. Cause little dude is waking up from a nap and I've got to resume coaxing him to eat. Next up?Popsicles. For him too.

It's Almost Christmas and I Haven't Kicked Anyone (Yet)

Something very strange is happening to me this year.

I'm enjoying the holidays.

Maybe it's because I actually feel pretty prepared this year. I don't think I am actually more prepared than usual, I just decided to give myself a break this year.

It probably has more to do with my son actually getting excited over Christmas this year. He loves the tree and is showing it by letting it remain upright, rather than pushing it over and removing the ornaments. We read 'The Night Before Christmas' every night, and he has it memorized. He plays constantly with his nativity scene. We went and saw Santa and he was SO excited he actually behaved.

It is so cliche, but so true. Reliving Christmas through your children can somehow smother the Grinch.

Admittedly, I'm still dreading some family functions, but honestly? There are relatives I dread seeing no matter what time of year. Like the one who eyeballs me in horror and wonders out loud how I've gained so much weight (uh, I'm pregnant?). Or the one who compares my son to her grandchild who is three months younger and potty trained and why isn't G potty trained and you really need to get him potty trained before the new baby arrives.

I would like to add that that particular relative will bombard me with this 'advice', then in the same breath add that her daycare potty trained her child because she couldn't handle it.

And then, we have the numerous family members who are obsessed with me having a girl this time round. Not even joking, I think they will be literally angry with me if I have a boy.

I'll see what I can do. Monday is the 'big' ultrasound, so maybe I can wave my magic wand and guarantee a vagina.

If not, I'm seriously considering calling in sick to a few upcoming functions.

Back in the Warm Glow of the Internets

Just as I'm all 'Hey world, I'm going to blog more!', my computer goes belly up.

That was two weeks ago. A trojan took me down. I have no idea where it came from. And honestly, I was stunned it got through all the security on this computer. But hackers are assholes. Crafty assholes.

Thankfully, my husband is some kind of IT whiz. And yesterday, he got this hunk of junk back working. I don't know how. Basically it required wiping the entire hard drive and reinstalling eleventy billion updates.

But thank you, husband, for your tireless efforts to get me back online!

You don't know how much your rely on the Internets until you do not have access. I didn't miss stuff like email or Facebook, probably because they're on my phone. But things like banking, bills, SHOPPING. You know, the important stuff.

You should have seen me on cyber Monday. I was climbing the walls thinking about all the unmissable deals I was losing out on.

Tragic.

Now I'm doing a mad scramble to finish my Christmas shopping online. I honestly tried the old fashioned way, but me (pregnant) and my toddler (worst shopping partner EVER) epically fail at at real shopping.

I even went out at midnight on Black Friday. The deals weren't that great, but I was childless and managed to check off almost all of my nieces and nephews.

But it wasn't the same as sitting on the couch, with a cup of tea, clicking away, NOT waiting in line and having stuff just show up on my doorstep.

I'm in my pajamas, unshowered, with coffee. And I'm going shopping.

Internets, I love you and lets not be apart again.

Not to Complain, But...

So I've already gone over the barfing. Which seems to be subsiding (knock wood).

But dude, this pregnancy has been so completely different from my first. Which was mellow and relatively easy.

I think it's a dirty trick. Cause now I have a toddler to chase.

A toddler who likes to run into the bathroom while I'm vomiting and turn the light on and off as fast as he can. Nothing makes barfing more enjoyable than doing it under a strobe.

My first pregnancy, odors bothered me, but not to the point where I'm nearly homicidal over my dogs standing by me (THEY REEK) or where I'm tempted to punch the lady in the grocery store who bathed in White Diamonds.

About a month ago, I went insane and decided I needed to deodorized the carpet in the living room. I used a powder for 'pet odor'. It was described as a 'fresh scent'.

For me, 'fresh scent' brings to mind clean air, fresh laundry, you know, stuff that has a pleasant aroma.

Arm & Hammer's idea of 'fresh' is more like junior high boys locker room...musky and sweaty and foot fungus-y coated in cheap spray deodorant and a touch of Drakkar.

The next week of my life was devoted to getting the 'freshness' out of my carpet. Incessant vacuuming. Then I steam cleaned. Twice.

It's almost gone, but once and a while, it will waft up from places unknown and I want to burn the carpet and all the living room furniture in a big bonfire in the backyard.

So my nose is going crazy. I wonder if I can get my hands on some of that stuff medical examiners smear under their nostrils while performing autopsies?

Just a thought.

I'm Going to Try to Write This Between Dry Heaving (Urp)

Blogging has been on the dead bottom of my list for a while. I've clicked over here, looked around for a minute or two, thought about writing something. left.

It's hard to write about stuff when you've only got one thing on your mind and you're not supposed to talk about it.

But as of today, I'm talking.

I'm pregnant, knocked up, in the family way. About 12 weeks, so just about in my second trimester.

And I am so ready to be in the glorious second trimester. That promised land where you're not supposed to feel like you're dying every waking second. This pregnancy has been NOTHING like my first. My first, I had a little nausea, but nothing that couldn't been soothed with well timed snacks.

This time? Well, I'll put it this way...my OB gave my a prescription for the same nausea meds they generally give to chemo patients. On top of that, unbelievable fatigue - so bad I could literally lay down in the middle of the living room and sleep after only being awake for a couple of hours. And dizziness. And headaches.

It's been the pits, for serious.

But I see light at the end of the tunnel. The other night I told my husband, well, it will end. Maybe not till the baby is out, but it will end (please God, let it end SOON).

Of course, the drastic difference in this pregnancy has led to all kinds of speculation on the baby...IT'S A GIRL. Or, are you sure it's not twins? Yes, I had the doctor triple check. So unless someones really good at hiding, the Nugget is a singleton.

I'm calling it Nugget, by the way. For now.

So, there you have it...I haven't died, though to be honest, some days I've thought the end is near. I won't be such a stranger. Promise.

Now excuse me while I go sip on some damn ginger tea.

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