sueeeus

• Yesterday Gadget said I look like Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dum.
• My innie is threatening to become an outie, but I don’t think that will actually happen.  Ever.
• Today Charming Doctor said my numbers were actually okay, that he was giving me positive feedback, so accept it. I think it was his way of trying. Perhaps he sensed my aloofness. (Is that a word?) He did recommend Weight Watchers when this is all over, and I never appreciate that advice. From anyone. Been there, tried that, don’t do clubs of any sort. Just don’t. It’s like they think it’s original, and nobody’s ever come up with the idea of suggesting it to me before. Of course, if I’d actually lose weight one of these days…
• We’re both skilled professionals. I’ve decided that if we were colleagues in the same field, I’d kick his butt. So I feel better.
• He mentioned that he’s the doctor who’s on call this week, so should anything happen, he’ll be the one delivering LB. Internally resolve not to go into labor this week.
• I’m planning to ask my boss if it’s okay if I work the remainder from home, because it’s just too painful to move very much, and I need to sit sideways because my belly won’t fit under or against a desk, and I need to keep my feet up if possible.
• Sort of wondering if this kind of pelvic pain means things are imminent.
• Hoping I make it to my scheduled date, which is TWO WEEKS early, so it shouldn’t be a stretch to make it, should it?
• The big bag is loaded in the car:
  • breast pumps, yes, I mean business, I have two – the hospital grade Lactina and the manual Harmony
  • nursing pillow
  • baby clothes
  • the gorgeous receiving blanket that Suse gave us, gosh it’s almost too divine to use, but I’ll use it, because it’s so beautiful, befitting of a beautiful brand new boy
  • and diaper bag
• My personal bag is packed and ready at the office door. I suppose it can go in the car too. Don’t know why I didn’t put it there yet.
• Wondering if I Google pelvic pain and dropping (engagement) if I might have reason for alarm. Will probably do it anyway. Okay, did it. Could have anywhere from 2-4 weeks, so no need to freak out just yet.
• Didn’t have this sort of pain last time. Every pregnancy is different. As they say.
• Constant heartburn. Constant. Will Tums help? And why heartburn if ‘engagement’ is supposed to alleviate it? Heavens be praised, calcium carbonate does help.
• Considering doing a belly cast. Not enough time for mail order. Wonder if Michael’s has the plaster strip stuff.
• Called uhmerikanekspress and they have no record of having sent my new card. They apologized profusely and will expedite one, to arrive Wednesday. Good grief.
• Need to see MY doctor before delivery day, but he’s all booked. Usually helpful scheduling woman clearly said she’d call me tomorrow when he’s in, then when I was confirming what needed to be done, said (impatiently), NO, I need to call tomorrow to find out whether he wants to fit me in. She’s probably PMSing. I’ll cut her some slack. She’s usually very nice.
• Thinking about repainting a few walls. Gadget will undoubtedly frown.
• Need to have my hair touched up once more before Baby arrives – don’t know how long it will be before I can do it again, after he’s here, and lovely as it is, the blonde needs regular touch-ups.
• OH MY DEAR GOODNESS, I’m about to have a BABY! It’s so unreal, and so REAL. I’m beside myself.
• Obviously
• Only 36-1/2 weeks. And. Goodness. Gracious. Me. I’m. Tired.  All. The. Time.

BB is fascinated by the whole blood sugar testing and insulin administration process. Every time I stick my finger, he runs to see the drop of blood. Did you bleed? Satisfied with the size of the drop, he then proclaims, Ouchie! Every single time. Next, he likes to pick the injection site, and watches intently as I proceed. Sometimes it stings or pinches, and he says, “Did I not pick the right spot?” Sometimes it bleeds a bit, and he says, “Maybe you hit a bain (vein).”

Sometimes I’ll catch him playing make-believe with scraps of junk mail or whatnot, and he’ll be ‘testing his blood sugar.’ I hope he never actually needs to. Diabetes seems to be prevalent on my side of the family.

Less than two weeks left of insulin therapy, and I can put all the needle paraphernalia away. It’s not so bad, really, but I’ll be glad to be done with this part. It’s quite something, how the blood sugar can return to normal once the placenta is gone. I’m very curious whether my numbers will be stable or not, when it’s all said and done. I’m not planning on resuming the metformin for a little while, just so I can see.

I’m hoping to come out of this pregnancy with a net weight loss. I gained 7 lbs in the first 32 weeks, and 11 lbs between 32-36 weeks, 5 of which came on last week. So I assume that the recent 11 lbs is mostly water (as evidenced by the size of my ankles and the indentations left in my skin with the least amount of pressure), baby and placenta and amniotic fluid probably account for about 15-20, so I should be down a net 10 or so once LB arrives, and that 10 should help my blood sugar numbers. So. We shall see.

Recently, while reconciling my credit card statement, I discovered a charge for on-line movie rental, which struck me as odd, because we’d suspended our on-line movie rental account months ago. Upon investigation, I found a charge in the previous statement as well. I’m fastidious about reconciling my statements (and mercilessly nagging Gadget to produce his receipts), but I don’t necessarily get to them promptly. So, two rogue charges. I called the movie company, and they verified that my account is still deactivated, so they ran my credit card number and voila. Up popped another account, using my real name, my real address, and my credit card number. The email address was myrealnameandsomenumber at gmail, and the security question was something unfamiliar to me. They deactivated the account immediately and flagged it for fraud, and I called my credit card company and explained the situation as well. I had to cancel that card immediately, and was issued a new number.

At least the fraudulent charges were small, under $40 in all, but distressing is the fact that somebody was able to acquire my name, address, and credit card number, all three. How did they do that? So much more damage could have been done. I have a ridiculously high credit limit, and I’ve always felt nervous having a limit that’s more than I could pay off in a month. I use a credit card for everything, but I pay the entire balance each month, so never pay any interest. Plus, it’s one of those cash back cards, so I actually save money by using it, and it pays for my Costco membership as well. All good!

The problem is, my new card hasn’t arrived, and it seems like it’s been ages, so I feel like I’m hanging out to dry. My independence is compromised. I’m tied to Gadget for the time being, because his card number didn’t have to be reissued with mine, even though they’re on the same account. I was told it would take 7-10 days, and it seems like it has been over two weeks. I feel like I can’t function! I have automatic payments tied to that card, so even though I know the number, I don’t have the security code or the expiration date, so I can’t properly update the auto-pay functions, nor can I make on-line payments. So frustrating! Like a kid waiting for Santa Claus, I check the mailbox every day, looking for that silly card. Am I a credit card junkie? I need that card!

It’s such a shame, in this day and age, that identity theft is a reality. I’m just thankful that I was able to nip things in the bud, and that the damage was small. If I weren’t in this particular physical state, at the moment, I might be quite a bit more worked up over this whole affair, and feel more violated, but I simply don’t have the mental or emotional capacity for any more stress than this. I hope it’s all over.

Barricade, as those in the know, know, is the name of the Transformer Decepticon that masquerades as a police car. So, whenever a police car is spotted, there is always an excited exclamation, “It’s Barricade!!!!”

Last week, BB happened to peer out the window and started jumping up and down, “TWO BARRICADES!!!!!!”

As it turns out, we have some fine neighbors. One woman was arrested. We don’t know the story. The house next door has recently had the garage converted to another house, so there are two rental houses where there used to be one, and all sorts of noises and late night parties and general mayhem seems to take place there.

This morning we were working out front, pruning and weeding, and a child was crying for over an hour at the top of his/her lungs. A very, very unhappy child. What does one do? Poor thing was miserable, obviously. And then some adult yelling and shouting started, and escalated. It went on for quite some time, and eventually Gadget called the sheriff. I was a bit nervous about this, as we were obviously the only people outside, so the call would most likely have come from us, and who knows what these people might do. I tend to be nervous about things like that, being a chicken $#!t and all. The thing is, you never know what violent people might end up doing. Because they don’t seem too concerned about reeling in their emotions and all. Anyhow, not long after, along came “TWO BARRICADES!!!!!!” Apparently they come in pairs for domestic violence calls? Second time in less that two weeks. Nice.

Some day we might move to a neighborhood with a little higher socio-economic demographic, perhaps. If we can afford it. Our little cul-de-sac is generally quite nice, apart from this set of neighbors. And we don’t spend much time outside, for whatever reason. I just hope all remains safe.

In more happy news, BB earned enough Good Boy points for his next prize. He’s very pleased. Once he gets the hang of this Good Boy business, we’ll start making him work a bit harder for his points. So far it’s an excellent tool, though. It’s working great! He helps me load the dishwasher, make the bed, hang the towels, pick up toys, wash the counters, put things in the recycle or trash bins, and such. Of course I have to actually do most of these things in tandem, or re-do them, but he’s learning, and that’s the important thing. I am very pleased as well. My beautiful boy. He fills my world with much joy.

Even with the two barricades incident, I’m feeling like I’ve had a happy, happy day. Our front yard no longer competes with the front yard on Malcolm in the Middle, we have a full tank of fuel in the van, a refrigerator filled with good vegetables, fruits, milk, cheese and eggs, the baby hammock is up, the sheets and towels are clean, the hospital bag is half-packed, and we had a delicious supper of grilled sirloin and asparagus, red peppers, onions, and mushrooms. Gadget hasn’t produced the car seat yet, but he insists he knows exactly where it is.

That’s one of BB’s favorite phrases, spoken with much drama and inflection. Hey, wait a second, you forgot to make me my dragon! Spoken less than a day after making it known that he’d like a dragon, too, just like LB’s. (Which I hadn’t actually made, yet.)

Silly goose, I didn’t forget. I just haven’t had time yet! As if I could whip one up with a wave of my magical wand. I did manage to produce it that day, though, and BB was quite pleased. I followed up last night with LB’s, which didn’t turn out as well, in some respects, but turned out better in others. It’s all a learning experience. I used the serger on LB’s and the seams, when turned, aren’t as pretty. But I also used it to connect as many of the pieces as possible prior to stuffing, so it came out much stronger. LB’s has the white belly, and BB’s is all blue cloud. They’re sweet. I enlarged the pattern as much as I could with my printer, and this is the result.

All in a day’s work. Well, an afternoon and evening. I also made a hedgehog pincussion from a pattern I got while visiting Suse earlier this year, and using some of that scrumptious hand dyed wool felt from Winterwood Toys.

I think it’s adorable!

I do enjoy the hand stitching and small feltwork much more than the machine work. I also think I’m finished sewing for a while. I’ve been on a maniacal roll with it of late. I think it’s a form of nesting. I’ve taken all the sewing and craft doodads that have been cluttering my office and organized them and filed them away neatly. My office is looking a bit tidier, and this gives me comfort.

Now. On the agenda for today: prune the front yard shrubbery, pull the weeds, and trim the grass (all very long overdue – the approach to our house is frankly embarrassing). Set up the baby hammock. Retrieve the infant sized car seat and base from storage. Get groceries and fuel the car. Wash sheets and towels. Pack my hospital bag. Give BB lots of opportunities to earn Good Boy Stars so that he can possibly get a ‘prize’ today (Gadget happened upon the coveted Batman costume and it’s hidden away for the next Good Boy milestone). Not a bad list for a Saturday. Maybe tomorrow I’ll update my blog software. Or not. I keep getting these notices of important security updates. BORING. No more sewing, though.

Sometimes, when you’re a woman of advanced maternal age, and you are overweight (obese, technically), and you have type II diabetes (but you really think that you are more borderline and not actually over the edge) which has escalated to insulin dependent gestational diabetes, and you are 36 weeks along, and when your fundal measurement is 43, and you’ve gained five pounds in one week, and when your regular doctor is on vacation, you might find yourself face to face with some stranger who knows nothing about you, and asks you why you didn’t bring your blood sugar log in to this appointment (when you brought it to the last appointment and that substitute doctor didn’t even ask to see it until you told her that your usual doctor had wanted you to show it to her, and then she didn’t show any real interest in it, anyway, so you figured you’d not bother this time, especially because there are about three or four really bad entries in it, and why subject oneself to the tsk tsk bad girl you shouldn’t have eaten that rice or that muffin reprimand, especially when you’re on the teetering edge of tears with the least infliction of guilt, judgment, or criticism) so you tell him that your morning sugars have been in the 90s and your post-prandials around 140 or so (which is more or less true, except for the few odd points)…

…that substitute doctor with the charming bedside manner might say, “Someone hasn’t been watching what she eats very well,” and then insist that an appointment be scheduled sooner than later to go over the numbers to determine whether any additional adjustments to the insulin should be made.

…and that same doctor with the charming bedside manner might wrinkle up his face and remeasure you two or three times and scratch his head and say something to the effect of “do you realize how big you are measuring, and we ought to get you in for another ultrasound,” after which you assure him that yes, you know you are measuring big, your last child measured big, and your normal doctor is well aware of it, and you are scheduled for a c-section anyway, because you already know you’ve got a giant baby growing in there.

…after which that same substitute doctor with the charming bedside manner might ask whether you’re getting your tubes tied during the c-section, and when you say no, you are not planning on it, and he looks at you with shock and horror and asks why not, and you answer that you don’t want to do that, and possibly your husband might get the snip instead, to which he asks why on earth you would subject your husband to an unnecessary procedure when you will be open already and the procedure will take less than a minute to put the little tiny clamps on the tubes and there will be no hormonal ramifications because the ovaries are not affected in the least, and in fact, your chance of various female cancer(s) is actually reduced…

…if you’re anything like me, you have a very difficult time maintaining your composure until you’re safely tucked away inside your car-pod at which time you sob your eyes out all the way home, at the same time wondering vaguely what all the passersby are thinking of the overweight forty-something pregnant woman bawling her eyes out…

…and you try to be objective about it and wonder why you are really so upset, but you just can’t seem to get past the part about NOT BEING READY TO MAKE A DECISION TO COMPLETELY SHUT THE DOOR ON ANY FUTURE CHILDREN, even though you know you probably shouldn’t even consider the possibility, given all the factors, and you may actually not even want to have more, and most likely you wouldn’t even be able to have any more, based simply on how hard it was to get to here, but you just don’t one hundred percent know what you want, and what you should do, and you’re just NOT READY TO MAKE THAT KIND OF A DECISION NOW, or in the next two weeks, for that matter, and even though he claims there are no hormonal ramifications, you are oh, so very leery, because you’ve lived a lifetime with tweaked-out hormones and the last thing you want to do is rock that boat any more than it’s already rocked.

…and then, when your husband calls, because he’s working late and he needs you to do the daycare pickup, and he can hear in your voice that you’ve been crying, and you say it’s because you didn’t much like the doctor you saw today, and he demands to know WHO it was, so he could call him and bawl him out for being such a jerk, you completely skip the whole part about the tubal ligation, which is really what you’re most upset about (because of course it’s as perplexing to your husband as it is to the charming doctor as to why one wouldn’t want to get a tubal when one is already laid out open on the operating table, and how selfish it is to even suggest something as vile and emasculating as a vasectomy to a perfectly healthy and whole male, God forbid.)

…So I guess that’s what it’s mostly all about. I don’t want to make a decision. I thought I’d already made the decision, which is, let Gadget get snipped, and if he’s not amicable to that (which he isn’t much), take our chances or just be abstinent (which is basically the same thing, when it comes down to it).

It’s nearly 4 a.m. and once again, I can’t sleep. Prescription: decaf tea, laptop, camera & a heartburn pill. Above? That’s what I can see from here. Right now. Great wide expanses of belly!

I think LB is dropping or has dropped. He seems to be low now, my lungs aren’t as squished, and new pains have taken residence in the pelvic region. BB never did drop. I had him at 39 wks and he was way up high, happy as a clam. Maybe he was too big to drop. He was 10lb 7oz, after all.

It’s something, how much a body can change from week to week, and even day to day.

From the front view (at 35 wks) the belly gives the illusion that I might actually have a waist, which I don’t, and haven’t for years. So the voluminous pregnancy look suits me, I think. As does the blonde. I really like being blonde! Who would have ever known or guessed it could be pulled off?

And the side view. Oh, the side view. It’s quite amazing to me that I’m not riddled with stretch marks. But then again, I was nicely pre-stretched. And it continues to astound me that this belly (above) is 5 weeks short of term, and there’s only one child in there. Don’t they grow about an ounce a day from here on out? Mercy!

We’re 36 wks now. Only two weeks until the big day! My niece had her baby at 35 wks, induced due to preeclampsia, and she was born healthy and sound with no respiratory issues. It helps me feel more confident about the 38 wks delivery decision. And thankful that I’ve never had a blood pressure scare. Now, I just hope that LB plans to stick around in there for another two weeks. So far, no Braxton-Hicks contractions, no real contractions. Lots of poking and prodding and rolling and squirming. It’s something to watch, when you see all the shifting taking place under the skin, before your very eyes. A bit eerie to some (of the male gender), who tend to think it’s freaky and alien. To me? Magical.

I’m looking forward to holding my beautiful LB, and gazing into his wondrous tiny face, but at the same time, knowing how my life is about to change makes me want to savor these last several days as much as I possibly can. Lots of snuggling and teasing and laughing with BB. Alone time at 4 a.m. with heartburn. It’s all time to treasure.

A must, according to Suse.

…Elinor Dashwood!

You are Elinor Dashwood of Sense & Sensibility! You are practical, circumspect, and discreet. Though you are tremendously sensible and allow your head to rule, you have a deep, emotional side that few people often see.

Take the Quiz here!

Babes in arms. Soon.

There has been a marked silence in blogland lately, particularly amongst the ladies in waiting. I’ve been hoping that we are all just going through the frantic and harried late third trimester nesting times in which all is well with the babes, and we are just too busy with wrapping together the pieces of our lives that need to be taken care of before our bundles of joy arrive. It can be so stressful, these last few weeks, when the doctors say to heed the movements and make sure you feel at least 10 movements every two hours, and if not, CALL. I’m finding myself looking at the clock, wondering why LB hasn’t moved, gently prodding my belly to see if I can get him to squirm, and either feeling panic or joy when I don’t or do get a response. And then there’s the fear that I’ll go into labor at any time, and even though he’s a big robust boy already, it’s still too early, so please, please don’t come yet. And then there’s the office. The loads and loads of loose ends to tie up. All the things to get in order for an extended absence. Finding all the things that must be delegated and delegating them properly so that all will be well. Finishing things that have been in work for ages. Anticipating what might come up whilst away, just in case. The management tends to get a bit nervous when they know you are single thread and there’s nobody else who can fill in for task X, should the need arise. And even though I am single thread on many things I do, the chances are that no emergencies will arise in my absence. And the company will go on. My single threadedness remains only the smallest drop in a very large bucket. So I won’t actually let that bother me. Much. I have much more important things on the horizon with which to prioritize my emotions, thoughts, and energy.

Today I’ve caught up on several posts and projects that have been rattling around. I made some bibs for our bloggy babes. My hand painting is crude – the pencil sketches turned out much nicer than the actual product, once rendered in paint. And even though it’s not much, and they didn’t turn out as well as I’d hoped and imagined, it’s something that I wanted to do.

Now, to send them off!

I’ve been on a roll.

I’ve had some sewing projects on my mind for some time, and have finally tackled them. This dragon pattern is from Winterwood Toys in Australia, and I fell in love with it when I first saw it. I bought the kit, which is a divine rainbow hand dyed wool felt, but I wanted to try it with plain fabric as well. Also, I only get one chance with that wonderful wool, so I wanted to do a practice run anyway. When I do the wool, it will be for my new little one. But big brother has announced that he wants one too. My fingers will be quite sore from stitching!

I had visions of using fun fabrics and the rolled edge serger stitch to make all sorts of fast and fabulous toys, but learned quickly, during my recent foray into the land of piggies, that that wasn’t to be. I didn’t even attempt to use the serger on this dragon. The pattern, when I opened it, seemed so small. The display that I thought I remembered in the store was much larger. My memory is probably off. I enlarged the pattern by quite a bit, and the end product is still smaller than I’d imagined it would be, but I think it’s delightful. I made some modifications, in that I stuffed the wings and didn’t quilt them, and I made my own mane pattern, since the original pattern was missing that detail. Also, I stuffed it. It looks like a pompadour in the photo!

I was planning on making two, but all this detail work is more than I imagined, so I’m not ready to take on another. Except the wool versions. And then I’ll be hand-stitching. I’m finding that I enjoy the wool and the hand-stitching.

All in all, I love the look of these small toys, but the execution is excrutiating. My fingers are sore from stitching and turning and stuffing such tiny pieces. I don’t know how toy makers do it. It’s a fun project to tackle once in a blue moon though!