First, Happy Rollins Day!

Second, what a shitty day.  I had the 3 hour today, which required fasting for 12 hours, which sucked because the fast started before our usually (fairly late) dinner time, and I TRIED to eat, but I just wasn’t hungry. Sigh. I got over that, slept okay, and woke up early this morning to get dressed and go to the hopsital. I had to pee first thing, who doesn’t but while I was peeing I cleared my throat a bit to get the morning frogs out, and as I cleared my throat, I heard a loud *CRACK!* and immediately was in major-ass pain.  I don’t know exactly what I did, or how I did it, but something in my back just fucking SNAPPED and I could barely walk, and definitely couldn’t walk upright. GREAT.

I’ve excused Dave from 90 percent of my appointments, since they seem to be really basic and not worth losing time at work for (especially when said time will be more valuable postpartum than it is now) but I did ask if he’d drive me to, and pick me up from, the 3 hour test. I’m SO glad I did. 

He droppedme off, and I did my best to walk a straight line so that he wouldn’t look like some asshole pushing his pregnant wife out of the car at the curb and peeling off.  I registered, sat crooked in the chair, hobbled crookedly to the lab, and got the first draw, and waited in the chairs for a while before getting the 100grams of Glucola, which still sucks.  I was allowed to take Tylenol after that, and took three, and sat down. I started feeling really icky, though, and went to the bathroom thinking maybe it was just gas or something, but it wasn’t and it got worse. I crouched down to the floor and put my head on the sink (BEST PLACE to be in the public restroom of a hospital, UGH) and managed not to puke. I don’t puke, but this felt worse than anything in the first tri. It was AWFUL.  I wet a paper towel and tryed to cool off my face and neck, which were throbbing with quease, and I made my way back to the lab desk and said "Uhh, I don’t feel good…" and they swept me into the lab itself and put me in the reclining blood-draw chair. (Of course, my back being so fucked up, they had to recline it FOR me.)  They brought me water, and offered to call Dave to pick me up, and I could do it another time, but FUCK THAT, I was getting it done in one go. They told me to try to sleep, not move, etc, and brought me cold, wet, paper towels that I draped all over my head and neck. I felt AWFUL. MISERABLE. It SUCKED.  They came in and did my draws, but I managed to sleep quite a bit, and do my ‘counting backwards’ thing that I do when I’m anxious or ill or unable to sleep to help get through the waves of nausea washing over me.  There were a few other women there doing the 3 hour, it was obvious, but they were fine apparently. ABout ten minutes before my last stick, I woke up and didn’t immediately feel upset that I was awake again, and when I was done, I called Dave to pick me up.

While I was waiting for him, I eavesdropped on a family conversation behind me.  They were from up north, a good 3 or more hours away, and there for a doctor’s appointment for their baby and to visit the NICU nurses. He was born 2 1/2 months early, and had some kidney concerns, apparently, but they really wanted to visit the NICU nurse that sent them pictures every day while he was hopsitalized and they were all so far away. It was scary, yeah, but it also felt really… I don’t know. I mean, for one, the baby sitting there, if I had mine in 2 weeks, it could be okay. It could be okay NOW, but to see an actual baby born at around 30 weeks, it was reassuring. And while I bitch and moan and bitch about the fact that my GIANT REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER has no goddamn TUBS to labor in, like the smaller regional hopsitals do, there is a NICU. ANd if shit went bad, KNOCK ON WOOD, I wouldn’t have to rely on a nurse to send me pictures every day, I’d still be in the same zip code as my baby, the same COUNTY, even, and listening to the conversation reminded me that that’s not the case for a lot of people. SInce my hopsital has the NICU for central and northern Maine, I bet a lot of babies there aren’t FROM here, but like that little baby behind me, from the County, far from home.

Dave picked me up, and we went to lunch at HoJos, where I was greeted with a "GRETCHHHEEENNN! How ya’ doin’, darlin’?" form the world’s best waitress, that I probably haven’t seen in 4 months, anyway. She did know i was pregnant, I had told her when I went one day in the first tri for a waffle craving, and she remembered and as always, made me feel like she was genuinely glad to see me.  I had to go to my OB appointment, where I brought up the back thing and got an RX for a pregnancy safe muscle relaxant, advice on how to deal with what is apparently a rib pinching a nerve (the wearing-off novocaine feeling I sometimes get on my upper adbomen) and sympathy for my Glucola reaction (same thing had happened to her, making me feel SO much less like a total pussy).  Baby is fine, and she showed me how to try to figure out where parts were, which was really nice. (She also referred to it as ‘she,’ but she doesn’tknow the sex, either, so I’m putting it into the intution guess category.)

I decided not to go to class, since the rx couldmake me drowsy and the thought of walking from my car to the class (kind of a trek on campus) was daunting. I went to the pharmacy, where I was greeted with "Hi Gretchen! Dropping off or picking up?" which was nice, but also sort of depressing, since LITERALLY, I have never had more medications in me than in the last 6 months of pregnancy.  I got my pills, a microwaveable heating pad thingie, and a People magazine, and came home and put all three to good use. UGH.

So, yeah. That was my day. I’m still tired, and will take another pill before I take a shower and get into bed.  It’s just so… weird. So few of my medical issues during pregnancy have been directly related to the pregnancy itself — the progesterone, sure, and I guess my worsened asthma counted for something, and then there was the funky nipple, whcih technically started in my FIRST pregnancy and just got worse and worse, like my thyroid thing, and the bronchitis, the back, the headaches (I NEVER got headaches before I got pregnant) the glucola kicking my ass, the anemia, just, ALL THIS STUFF.  ANd now I’m listing 45 degrees to the right, and look like a 90 year old pregnant woman. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

On the other hand, I saw at least 2 couples come in and register and head up to the L&D ward. I assume they were scheduled for an induction or c-section, since they weren’t visibly in pain, but they did look really excited, and that sort of made ME excited. Because, in the end, what matters is that we have a BABY. I’ll be a mom, and Dave will be a dad, and that’s what’s most important. I can deal with all of the bullshit, even the no-tubs issue, if I get to be a mother. That makes it worth it.

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Seriously? Third tri already? NUH –UHHHH.

My folks came through last night to drop off the camera and take us to dinner before flying out to Aspen via Orlando, which sounds positively Rich People, which is so funny, because my parents first home together was a cabin in the woods, atop a hill that they drove their Land Rover (not Range Rover, but like, Mutual of Omaha Land Rover) to the base of, where they then fired up a Ski-Doo for the last mile or so, which was always a pain when they had clean laundry, apparently. Or when you consider that one of their first incomes was raising pigs. The Orlando/Aspen thing is that my dad’s cousin lives in Orlando and is a doctor, and got some great rate to attend a doctor convention in Aspen, so my folks are tagging along, and it was cheaper to go to Orlando first. Heh. ANYWAY.

They brought me the D70, which has a brand new speedlight flash (A.MAZ.ING.) so that I can take pics at the tourneys for their client schools. BUT, that means I have a D70 and a new speedlight flash to play with for the rest of the month, which is what I’ll haul down to the Waterworks tomorrow, which is a good thing. FUN!

Also a good thing, it’s COLD OUT. I am so annoyed with people bitching that its cold out, so I keep responding to the whining with “IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE COLD. It’s FEBRUARY in MAINE.” I’m especially sensitive this year, I think, BECAUSE I’m pregnant. What kind of planet have I chosen to populate? UGH. I mean, it’s FEBRUARY 10, and there is not ONE LICK of snow on the ground. We haven’t had a major storm yet. (There is snow forecast for Sunday, and I really hope it pans out.) I mean, I don’t like the slippery roads and the shoveling and the bundling and all of that, but I like it a whole lot more than a nonexistent polar ice cap.

Another random thought — I never had a ‘bachelorette’ party, because, well, I didn’t want one. Or NEED one. I didn’t feel like I needed a last hurrah before marrying Dave, or whatever, and I didn’t… but I wonder why they don’t do something like that for pregnant women? Not a big drunken bash, but some sort of celebration where you get to have one last night out with friends before you are tied down with a baby. Not that babioes equal being tied down, but I definitely see motherhood as threatening my social ties in a MUCH bigger way than marriage did. I won’t have that spontaneity anymore, to just call Andy and say “HEY! Let’s catch a movie in 20 minutes!” or to just — be spontaneous. There should be some acknowledgement of that in some way. I was telling Jeanne that my fantasy would be to have all of my IRL and internet friends descend upon Boston or something, and have a big lunch date, or a slumber party, before I go into the cave of PostPartumville with a newborn… (As a side note, anyone that will be vacationing in Vacationland this summer, if you are going to any of the major destinations, I am so on the way, and would love to meetup and have lunch or something, seriously!)

I have a new GA working with me this semester, who is from India. She’s only been in the US for 16 months, and spent the first 10 months in West Virginia, so is now experiencing a Maine winter. Hah. Anyway, she’s very sweet, and brought me in homemade palak paneer today, which is SO COOL. I love the palak paneer!

Finally, an email conversation between Dave and I:

gretchen:
Maybe instead of the ocean wonders crack* thing, we should get the baby one
of these to help it fall asleep at night??

http://www.badlighting.net/

(*Apparently, the Ocean Wonders crib toy thing is the Best Thing Ever, but it HAS to be the older one with the rectangular display, and not the new one with the round face, and despite telling him over and over that you can only get the older one on amazon, he checks EVERY STORE for it, and it’s referred to as “the crack model.”)

dave:
WHAT THE CHRIST?

Well, here I am. LAST DAY OF THE SECOND TRIMESTER. HOLY CRAP.  To celebrate, I got my first unsolicited (I think that’s the word I’m looking for?) "When are you due?!" from a staff member.  I’ve been getting LOOKS for a while now, but my maternity wear is pretty much exactly what my non-maternity wear has been…. jeans and an old navy long sleeved stretchy v-neck t-shirt. I haven’t gotten into the bows and ducks and crap, and seriously doubt I WILL, and I haven’t worn any wry t-shirts that say stuff like "eating for two!" or anything. (And was forbidden by Jenne to ever wear a tank top that said "OH BABY!" in rhinestones across the chest, which, YES, they exist.)  WHile I’ve been getting looks, I’ve gotten not ONE comment until today, when the info desk admin assistant came down and looked at me, looked down, looked up and beamed "OH! When are you due!!!!????" Then she asked all the usual questions "Is this your first? How are you feeling? Do you know what you’re having?" (And gotpositively THRILLED when I said we weren’t finding out…) Since she sits in the hub of activity, I imagine more people will find out, and the ‘trying not to look’ looks will ease up.

Today was a pain getting to school. I left early-early, because I wanted/needed to make up hours from Monday when I skipped to watch brokeback mountain, and to get a parking space anywhere NEAR campus you pretty much have to avoid the 10-11 hour.  I left at around 8:30, and first was confronted by a major slowdown on 95, as they’d reduced traffic to one lane to patch potholes or something, and as I’m creeping up the highway, I realize that I’ve left my parking pass in Dave’s car, when we had to switch on Tuesday. FUCK. Parking services LOVES to ticket, especially if you’re going to be there ALL DAY and a goodly part of the evening. So, I turned around at the mall and headed BACK to the station to get my pass.  On the way back, I decided to skip the highway completely, and take State street instead. I got here by 9:30 — almost a full hour of being in my car. Argh.

But, I did take these two pics with my phone as I was waiting at the light at Broadway, which, they are cell phonepics, but I like them anyway. 

I also need to get down to the Waterworks site REALLY soon, because i can’t believe how much is gone already. Such a cool collection of buildings, and they’re being torn down to build some transitional housing…. butstill, I’m glad I have the pictures I do have. (There are some in the snappity album, I think.) By this weekend, anyway. I don’t think they are demo’ing on the weekends, AND, Dave doesn’t have to work.

Dave has actually been in the waterworks buildings, for his freelance guy, and was totally impressed. How could you not be? HUGE, massive, gears, and those left-behind things, like pieces of the set of "Graveyard Shift" and such.

Well, I was right at the cutoff for the GD test, 135, which means I have to do the fasting 3-hour next Monday.

I am also anemic, and need to start taking iron 2x a day. Any recommendations for a good iron pill that won’t ruin my digestive life?

I really wanted cake at my shower. That was my silver lining!!! FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Thanks for the tips…. unfortunatetly coed doesn’t work: we don’t HAVE couple friends, and it would just mean more inalws.  And booze doesn’t work as most of my ILs don’t drink, and would be totally weirded out to have it there.

It’s just . . . weird. It isn’t like our wedding, for instance, which was An Event, and my family flew in to attend.  At that one, Dave’s was outnumbered by my family, simply because I have a bigger one. But it was also OUR event, we were both there, you know? And he won’t be at the shower. I think it’s a great idea to have coed showers, don’t get me wrong, but we just don’t have the people to do it. Dave’s friends aren’t married or settled down, at ALL, (did you see the pic of the best man? Heh) and those that are, live elsewhere.  We aren’t dinner-party people, we’ve had Matt & Sarah over um, once, and that’s it.  Dave is pretty hermit-y, really, I’M the ‘social butterfly’ with a guest list of… four. 3 I’ve known for 10 years or longer, and one (Debbie) from the last 2 years.

I mean, I have my differences with my ILs, AS YOU KNOW. But I’m not so much of a bitch that I don’t recognize that it’s really kind of them to WANT to have a shower for me. My family will be popping up over the summer — my sister plans to come help out in May, first to work in my place over the busy season that I am due RIGHT SMACK DAB in the middle of (anyone want to do some freelance weekend photography? You get to play with a D70!), and then to help out postpartum with making meals and doing laundry and stuff.  One of my aunt summers up here, and my cousins visit her throughout the summer.  My GRANDMA is even talking about flying up this summer, which is HUGE, since Grandma does NOT fly. Apparently JetBlue goes from Austin to Boston direct, though, and she thinks she could do that, with my folks picking her up in Boston. More than that, GRANDPA might do it too, who is even MORE of a non-flier than grandma. Grandma did fly several  years ago to visit her sister before she died, but grandpa? Nope. Ironically enough, he had his pilot’s license and a plane until the mid 80s, but commercially, he’s refused, and they’ve always driven up. The last time they were in Maine was in 2001. If they come up, my aunt & uncle would probably come too, and my cousin Eric might come up for the summer to work again, as he did a few years ago. So I’ll SEE my family once the baby is born, but this little party is just odd.

It does make me feel better knowing that other people have been in the situation of "it’s my shower, and it’s not MY family" (Mrs K, I’m looking at you!) and survived. I mean, at the very least there will be CAKE, right?

Today I went out with my friend Jess for a few hours, and on the way to drop me off, she asked if there was any shower planned for me yet, which, there isn’t. She offered to host it if no one else did, which was very sweet, because "Everyone needs a shower."  We visited my MIL afterwards, who also asked what the deal was with the shower, and I mentioned that my mom wanted to do something, but over here, because that’s where most of the people were, and my MIL told me to tell her to call so they could plan something for next month.

That’s all well and good, and then I tried to think of who I would invite. I came up with FOUR PEOPLE. (I mean, aside from Dave’s family and my mom, as I don’t have any local family other than my parents.)  And of those four people, one is my coteacher, who was my niece’s teacher many years ago, and whom my SIL despises and complained about to the principal on more than one occasion. So, already uncomfortable. (Deb is a damn ROCK when it comes to conflict and weird situations, and no one else in the room would know of the history but those invloved, and me, but still. You know? But it’s MY shower, so I can have them both there, right?) ANd then, nothing. Not Andy, because I love him enough to not make him the token gay man at an otherwise all-girl shower, but um, yeah.

I never had a wedding shower, and the baby showers I’ve been to have been filled with big families — my niece has all her family right here, and her friends from the teen mom program were there.  My friend Jess is surrounded by family, and I went to a shower for her friend Renee, who had tried for years to get pregnant, and adopted. The first baby was home for 2 days before the birth mother reneged, and whenthe second adoption was a sure thing, the shower was so huge it was held in a rented hall. I went because I was so, so, so happy for her and her husband to have finally arrived as parents, that I wanted to share that, you know?  Anyway, showers? I have no clue.

It was easy with the wedding, we had 30 seats and a strict list of requirements to make the guest list. But with the shower list, I have no idea who gets invited, who doesn’t, who would be offended either way. It’s just weird, with having my family spread out everywhere, you know? And not being in a job where people would be invited naturally. 

ANyway.  SHower advice? Anything?

My SIL emailed me yesterday to ask how I was doing,  and to ask about what we had or needed and if we were registered anywhere, and I’d replied that we had some basics and sent her a link to the baby blog, thinking she’d find the registry stuff there… and in the email I mentioned that we had diapers already, as we were doing cloth and that many of my friends used cloth, and that modern cloth diapering was a lot easier than it used to be. At my MILs, she worked around to that, saying that "J said you got cloth diapers?" in that "you are foolish to think that will be doable" voice. I ended up explaining what I’d gotten, how you don’t need pins, what the wraps were like now (not ‘plastic pants’) about the magic of Gerber EZ Liners, and high efficiencey washing machines, etc… and she was really surprised. Talked about how it used to be, and said "I guess I never considered that things have gotten better since I used them[40+ years ago..]"  I think I’m going to take pictures and put them in the baby blog to explain why we’re doing it, and how it isn’t slaving over a giant kettle of boiling water and trying not to stab the baby and stuff.

ETA: I just posted this at ADL, trying to flesh out why I’m feeling so weird about it:

I think what it is is that it feels like my ILs party. From that side,
it will be at least five people — MIL, 2 SILs, and my 2 (adult)
nieces. And then me and my mom, and a couple of friends, one of which
has a history with an SIL/niece combo, and two others who really
dislike each other in general, but are grownup enough to deal with it
maturely. It’s really been bringing me down tonight, and I think it’s
partly that MY sister and aunts and grandma and such won’t be there
(scattered around the country), and I’ve just been feeling out of sorts
wrt friends lately. Mostly because I’m not in a job where I have
coworkers that are becoming friends, and my friends from my teaching
job I haven’t seen in a while (I did visit the school at christmas) so
it feels weird to invite them. (One invited me to a Pampered Chef
party, which I’m excited to go to simply BECAUSE I miss my old work
friends…) If it was this time last year, I would feel that I had more
friends to invite, just by virtue of having worked with them for 2
years and seeing them every day. It’s odd how NOT seeing them every day
you can lose touch so quickly.

It’s not so much about presents
— my family, due to our farflung homes, are big fans and users of the
online registry, and generous to boot — but about feeling like I’m in
the minority at my own party.

I am not one to normally get all mushy over cute shit. I love my cat. I am great with babies and kids. But I don’t babytalk much, or get too overly… girly, for lack of a better word, about stuff. But holy hell, my diapers arrived, and OH MY GOD they are cute.  So tiny! And fluffy! I mean, the kissaluvs are. The prefolds have all the charm of a institutional dining hall dinner napkin at this point, but I’m assured that they get cuter once you wash them a billion times.

Be forewarned: I may post pictures.

I went back to the pool last week, and was the only one there, which was fine, and yesterday one of the SVTs and a new girl were there.  Now, I am not an athlete. I’m just.. not. But I love the class, and the water, and all that, even if I feel/look like a walrus as I work my way around the pool. In addition to my walrusness, the lungs are still fucked up.  My asthma has gotten worse in pregnancy, the bronchitis didn’t help, but I’m figuring out how to work things out. For instance, I’ve found that walking around and breathing in cold air (IE, between buildings, to my car, etc) sets off a coughing spell and starts to close up the lungs. So, I’ve been zipping my coat up past my nose and breathing into my jacket to keep my lungs warm, and that totally helps. ANYWAY.

Yesterda, the other women had basically lapped me, and I a) didn’t want to make them wait for me to get around the pool again, and b) needed to breathe anyway. I tend to get really competitive with myself in situations like that, but I recognize that being pregnant, and the reduced lung function and all is a big part of it, and I can’t fight it or stress over it like I normally would. Ineed to, you know, breathe. I pulled over after muy first lap (with that GODDAMN KICKBOARD, I swear, I’m an IDIOT with that thing) and just told the isntructor I needed to breathe a bit. (She knows of my asthma/bronchitis/lack of coordination issues anyway). But then, she had us go to the wall for strength exercises. Now Ifeel all guilty, wodnering if she did that so that I wouldn’t feel bad or pass out or whatever. But I don’t want to drag down the others, you know? The SVT is a former PE teacher (and is actually super nice, we spent about 20 minutes flaoting in the pool after class talking about the bullshit of teaching in Maine — even PE teaching in Maine has bullshit, apparently — and then swapping stories about kids we’d both had, since she taught some of the kids I had my first year, because we send to that school) and the other girl is REALLY young and teeny tiny, except for her belly. I DON’T want to slow down the others, and I am very aware of my own limitations and will  modify as necessary, you know? I don’t want it to be "oh, god, there goes gretchen with the breathing again, now we have to hang out on the wall and do group kegels again." (And no, I’m not making that up.)

I don’t know. I don’t want to be the lead weight of the class, you know? But I stillw ant to GO, and WILL, and that’s all good.

The cat’s vet appointment went well — she hasn’t gained or lost since she was last there, almost 2 years ago, so she’smaintaining at 17 lbs. (Whcih is down fromher all time high of 22 lbs 4 years ago!)  She had her shots, and we talked about the increased thirst, and I splurged for a $38 blood test to check her for diabetes and thyroid issues. I could’ve chased her around and tried to get her to piss in a cup for that, but decided that it was worththe 38 bucks for the stick, and Dave agreed. Of course, I’m all emotional from being all pregnant and shit, so the needles were making me tearup, and I said to the vet and tech "so, is this practice for watching my baby get shots?" They were like "uhh, that’ll probably be worse." FUCK.

A big pet peeve of mine is when people try to have conversations withparents about how their pet is "just like" a baby. It’s not. It really isn’t, and I totally, completely recognize that. However, we really love our cat, and hate to think about her eventual demise, but we’re really hoping that we have the baby before the cat dies. I mean,she’s only ELEVEN, but she’s fat, and we worry. Once the baby is here, though, our sensitivity will probably be recalibrated, which is a good thing. Because if she died now? HOLY CHRIST, we’d be wrecks.

Um, other randomnews — I broke down and ordered maternity overalls, because I am just SO SICK of the pants that keep sliding down, and they DIDN’T FIT. Everywhere but the belly, they did. But the belly? No go.WTF?  MATERNITY OVERALLS should accomodate a belly! I’m only almost 26 weeks! How can they NOT FIT? So depressing. ALso, I got really excited thinking that the fridge was dying last night, because I really want a new fridge (ours is the oldest appliance in the house, about 15-20 years old) but this morning, it was cold again. Sigh. I don’t even want a crazy ass internet-enabled fridge! Just a basic model, no water, icemaker or anything, because I’m sure our power bill would go down if we got one. But I guess if it aint broke, I can’t get a new one. Sigh.

I had a dream over the weekend that I accidentally ended up in NYC with the baby, and my car got towed, and I sought shelter in brooke’s apartment, and then tried to get up the courage to take the baby& stroller on the subway to try to go find her to apologize for breakinginto her house while she was at work. In that dream, the baby was NOT a monkey (as it has been in dreams so far) but a girl. However, bananas did feature prominently in the dream, so there were still nuances of monkey….

Anyway, last night I dreamt that my OB was guiding me through a self c-section (which sounds far creepier than it actually was, and was probably influenced by the Grey’s Anatomy ep last night that showed a c-section) and the baby was a baby, but looked like balut, which you can google search yourself. (They are the partially formed ducklings that Survivor contestants had to eat a few seasons ago, which is where I learned about them.)  The balut-baby fit in my ahnd, and I was like "this is too small! I need to put it back!" but the doc insisted it was okay to keep out.  I tried to unroll it to find the sex, and couldn’t quite figure it out.

It sort of evolved, and ended up looking like one of those martian popping things, when I squeezed it, the arms and legs would unfurl, but I’d let go and they’d disappear into the  body again. i was all freaked out, trying to keep the arms and legs out sot hat I could strap the baby into a carseat. Anyway, in THAT dream, I saw that the baby was a boy. So, who knows. I hope it’s one or the other, and not a duck or a monkey.  Not that there’s anything wrong with ducks and monkeys.

That’s the good news, which, admittedly, is pretty damn good news. I called the doctor today since I hadn’t heard back from him yet (and its been two weeks) and waited all day for the call, for it to come in at 5:10. Guess I could’ve left the house after all.

Anyway, he hadn’t called yet, because he had been trying to get more info from other docs, since what the path report showed was something he’d never seen. "Subacute spongiotic dermatitis (with?) eosinophils."  Bladdy blah blah blah, what I hung up understanding was that it was some weird, rare strain of . . . .  dun dun duuuuun….. eczema. Sigh. I think, anyway, I have some questions out there (and feel free to chime in if you’ve had this!) like, is it weird and rare because it’s on my nipple? or in general? but hey, at least I can tear up that Lifetime movie proposal I was working on. (confirmation received while writing this that yes, it’s eczema. WHEE.)

The steri-strips came off last week, and I was sort of hoping that I’d look down and find myself magically cured, but alas, it was not to be. The funkiness is still there.  The scar is about an inch and a half long (and currently sporting a small sprout of monofilament thread from the stitches, that the good doctor told me to just snip off), a straight pinkish line. It’s longer than I expected, honestly, but not as bad as I was imagining in my head. And, let’s say it again, shall we? NOT CANCER.

Next step is to contact a dermatologist, since the itchiness is still there, and totally annoying. Annoying like "laying in bed with clenched fists at sides kicking feet around and gritting teeth trying not to scratch annoying." ANd really, with all the random skin shit that I have going on, it would probably be good to get a derm anyway. 

In other news, I don’t HATE WIndows users, yall. Some of — most of — my best friends use Windows. I guess I am annoyed by the AVERAGE windows user, of which most readers here are not. I’m talking the "oh, my antivirus ran out so whatever" type user that calls me.  The client I had last week is back online, the one that gave me nightmares and such.  I hate leaving stuff unfinished/unfixed, so it was really bugging me, but Verizon came today and replaced her jack, which was fried. It was a pretty old jack, so I’m not surprised.  Also, inall of my questioning of "did you do ANYTHING since I left here?" they answered no, but somehow the phone line got switched into the wrong jack on the PC, which didn’t help. And with those two improvements, i was able to log into the modem and discover that the modem had been wiped of all connection information, which was a breeze to set up, and made me really glad I had written down the un/pw combination 2 weeks ago. Of course, I could have rebuilt the connection in one try if I’d been more clear in writing down the number 2 and not something that I later thought was the letter z. At least I know how to work around my handwriting and compensate for stuff like that.

It also only took 15 minutes, instead of 2 hours, and the lady was thrilled when I left, which is good, because I LIKE spending time with my husband before going to bed.  I also like people not thinking I’m a fraud, too.

And on computers, I just had to order some books I need to read for class — Weaving the Web, by Tim Berners-Lee, and IBM and the Holocaust, by Edwin Black. And I added The Birth Partner for free shipping. I love interesting AMazon orders. 

My diaper order finally shipped, and when I tracked the package, it said that it was "Out for Delivery" . . . ..  in Mongomery, Alabama.  I imagine the UPS guy will get the box and be all "Maine isn’t on my route!" and it will get back in the shipping stream soon, and even if it doesn’t, that’s a pretty irrefutable shipping error.  Good thing I don’t need them TODAY.

Finally, here’s a cool site where you can make a t-shirt based on your blog, and I plugged in my URL and got the following sample:

Dave is the best. I mean, I don’t talk about him much here, just because, but today, I’m going to get a little mushy. Maybe a lot mushy.

I’ve been sick for weeks. I’m definitely BETTER now, but I’m still coughing, still have a sore throat, and still just not100%. Still, way better than I was. And every night, I’d offer to sleep in the guest room,and every night, Dave refused.  When my doc mentioned I should try a humidifier, I dug out one that we own, but Dave didn’t think that was good enough. "You need steam!"  He went out and bought the ol’ Vicks Vaporizer (and the menthol stuff!) and has made it his mission to fill it each night when we go to bed.

Two nights ago, I HAD to go grocery shopping. I used to like it, but more and more it feels like a chore, and so every time we make the list, I say "Are you coming with me?" and he says "no."  It’s sort of a running joke between us. When it comes to splitting household duties, we pretty much have shaken it out so that it falls across gender stereotypes, but it works for us — Dave does all of the outside work, mowing, raking, shoveling, trash, car maintenance, furnace maintenance, weatherproofing, etc etc etc, while I generally take care of dishes, laundry (though he has taken to carrying it up and down the stairs as a result of a Forensic Files type show we saw several years ago, where a woman slipped carrying laundry up the stairs and got her head caught somehow, and died, and infact WASN’Tmurdered by her husband  — the ep was so disturbing to Dave that anytime I head for the stairs with a big load of something, he says "HEAD!" as a warning…) cooking, grocery shopping, and taxes. We both share the actual cleaning-cleaning, though I usually do the kitchen and he does the living room, and any vacuuming, because of my allergies. Anyway, yeah, it’s all gender-typical, but it works for us.  SO! My POINT!

We make the list, and I say "Are you coming with me?" and he said yes! Such a stupid little thing, but he came with me and did all the heavy lifting and stuff, and it was cool. Just a stupid little thing that made me happy.

At night, we curl up and he feels around for the baby, and talks to it, and the other night he confessed that he expected to be really emotional when the baby was born.  When I asked him what he meant – emotional canbe so many things — he said "Overjoyed. Unless I have to ask questions like ‘how rare is it?’ or ‘what do you mean, you’ve never seen one like that before?’" 

We’re still working on names, we think we have a boy name, and the girl name I love he’s okay with, but not realllly into it. He thinks it sounds nerdy, which DUH, the kid is going to err on the side of geek no matter what, but when I google image-searched the name, the first dozen or so were of really hot scientists. Real scientists, too, not like, porn scientists. He’s still not convinced.  And we haven’t even GONE to middle name territory yet, not at all.

I love my husband. When we were dating, and i was working the late shift doing tech support, if there was a biug storm, I’d wake up to find my car shoveled out. He’d come over before his day started (we weren’t living together then) and clean my car out so I wouldn’t have to.  That kind of kindess didn’t go away when we moved in together, or when we got married, andI don’t expect it togo away when we become parents, either.

Dave is a quiet man. He’s a bit antisocial, would rather spend an evening in than out, and can seem very reserved when you don’t know him.  I’m more of the social one, and I sometimes wonder if people look at us and think "huh, BO-ring." But together, us, we just work together. We crack each other up, we love each other, we respect each other. We are really kind to each other, and to other people. Dave is FUNNY, damn funny, but he’s so dry, people sometimes don’t get that. (Which is funny, because I was once written up for ‘being too funny.’ My imediate supervisor wrote it that way, because HE got my humor, but apparently other people didn’t, and thought I was just nuts or something.)

Anyway, I love my husband, but even more, I really, really LIKE him. I like hanging out with him. I like knowing that we take care of each other in our own ways, and I like looking forward to the future of parenting together. I know it will be hard, and that it’s something you can’t really prepare for, but I think that having such a solid base to start from is a pretty good jumping-off point.