sueeeus

The thing about counting chickens before they hatch is…  …things may not turn out as expected…

Today is officially 20 weeks.  Half there!  Now we have to start through the boy names lists.

Even though there’s a giant new bed in the household, the resident cyclone child, once he weasels his way in, has a manner of emulating the expandable gas theory, in which he manages to consume all available space.

Sure, he looks small enough in this picture, but looks can be deceiving. This sprawler’s feet manage to make contact with both parents’ faces, at least once during a night, and I still find myself perched at the uttermost edge.

There’s a new rule in town. Cyclone children who wet their pullups don’t get to sleep in the big bed. I suspect he’s being lazy when it comes to that. At least in the day time. He’s pretty much all good when it comes to number two, so I’m very thankful there, and when he returns from daycare, he seems dry and sometimes I can tell he’s had the same pullup on all day. However. Once home, the next thing I know, there’s a cyclone child running amok, wearing a wet pullup. And I’m constantly asking him if he needs to go. I think perhaps I’ll just stop letting him wear pullups at all in the day, and see if he finds it unpleasant to wet himself. Hopefully.

As far as the bed goes, it’s a flimsy Ikea frame, which I like in style, but hate on all other counts. And much as I abhor the phrase, “you get what you pay for,” in this case, it applies. I don’t like how it didn’t come in one set. The slats and support beam, both of which are critical to the unit, had to be purchased separately. And once constructed, the slats have very little to hold them in place, and the headboard feels like styrofoam. Very bad feng shui, for me. I was willing to put up with it, but Gadget dislodged the slats the other night while lifting the cyclone child out of the bed to put him in his own bed. Not good, and likely repeatable. So that was a happy evening, what with a sleepy and irritated spouse trying to put the flimsy ass bed back together in the late of the night. So this weekend, we’re taking it all apart, and returning it to Ikea. I hope they give us a full refund. It’s a piece of junk.

We’ll be sleeping in close proximity to the floor for a while, which will also irritate Gadget, but since I ordered a new frame that meets with his manly approval, I think he might actually suppress the expression of his displeasure. One can hope.

I’ve read a book.  Seriously.  I know I mentioned it somewhere before, but much as I love books and reading, I don’t read, generally, because I am an obsessive reader and I just can’t stop once I’ve started.  So my whole life runs amok, because I’m not so good with that sort of self-discipline, and I just don’t read fast enough to devour a novel in an evening.  And I work and parent and and and…
The book is called Possession.  A gift from a friend.  Who thought I’d like it.  And she was right.  I stayed up as late as I could before my body gave out, then used the 3 a.m. potty wakeup as an opportunity to read some more.  And I couldn’t stop.  I sobbed all through the last few chapters.  Sobbed. And when I closed the book, I sobbed some more, just to let it out.  Then returned to bed at 6:30 a.m., only to rise at 9, no longer able to ignore the resident three year old who was quite ready to get up.  So what did I do?  I went back to the beginning and re-read many things I’d stumbled over at the start.  It was a slow start for me, and maybe just a bit too erudite, but I’m glad I stayed with it.

Maybe it’s the second trimester thing.  Maybe it’s the parent/child thing.  Whatever it was, I sobbed and sobbed.  But not in a tragic way.  Mostly in a good way.

Having had the recent pleasure of spending some very high quality time in the House of Soup, I came away with some yearnings and inspirations. That wondrous home is often filled with the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked bread. And by often, I mean several times a week. Seriously!

It’s heaven.

Not the best temptation for a diabetic, however. I didn’t exercise any nearly enough self-restraint, and gobbled slice after delicious slice of that fabulous bread.

And so it was that I pined to fill my own home with such delicious smells. As luck would have it, I discovered a handful of low-carb bread recipes on the web. Armed with these, I justified the acquisition of this beauty. It’s a Zojirushi, and it bakes a horizontal loaf. A full-fledged, horizontal loaf!

Unfortunately, my first two attempts have been less than admirable. The very first loaf was a recipe for a 1lb loaf, and this is a 2lb machine. Not that I know the ramifications of either, but it did seem that the liquids at the bottom of the pan were not well covered with the dry ingredients, and possibly the yeast came in contact too early. Possibly. Also, the paddles stuck terribly in that loaf. It was exciting to have home-baked bread, though, and at only 3gm carb/slice!

I bravely tried again. This time with a 2lb recipe. The liquids were better covered, but the loaf came out quite lopsided. I don’t know if this has anything to do with me peeking at it during the second and third rise cycles. Even so, it’s exciting to have fresh, very low carb bread! The paddles came right out with this loaf.  Now I’m drooling over the thoughts of french toast, panini, and all manner of bready delights.

The texture of this bread is somewhat rubbery. It’s made with vital wheat gluten and soy flour. I think traditional flours would produce traditional textures. But I can grow accustomed to the texture. Especially since it means I can indulge in toast with a spot of jam. Imagine it! Jam! Or marmalade! How I love marmalade!

I am pleased.

I’m feeling excited about the prospect of a snuggly little tiny baby to add to my family. I’m not even half-way there yet (but close!) and I find myself fast-forwarding my life. I spent far too much time looking at baby wrap styles again. I even ordered 10 yards of bamboo french terry material today. It’s supposed to be great for diapers, but I’m thinking of making towels and wraps. We’re not quite cut out for the cloth diapering experience.

As Two of Nine, I’ve cleaned many a nasty diaper in years gone by. I can hardly fathom Gadget sharing in such a task. It’s a stretch to get him to show enthusiasm for diaper patrol at all. So we will be doing our share of adding to the local landfill. Again.

Now, I don’t need any wraps! I made MANY in BamBam’s early days. I will be getting them back from my sister, soon. I might make one native type pouch. I made a couple for my sister, but they might not fit me, so we’ll see. It’s just… …I’m so easily addicted to making baby things!

The house rearranging is coming along. The sleeping room now sports a king sized bed. HUGE! The queen consumes most of the guest room. We had two queen memory foam toppers. I left one on the guest bed, and cut the other into a twin and added it to BamBam’s bed. As if he’ll ever sleep in it. It’s comfy, though. I’m thinking of using the extra foam to make some specialty pillows, or perhaps a small comfy sleeping mat for BamBam to use in our room. He’s using a toddler mattress now, and it’s heavy and hard. Considering how often I have to dissemble and launder the bedding, the sleeping mat might be a good thing.

I boxed up the entire VHS video collection to donate somewhere, except my 4-minute wedding video and my 4-d ultrasound. I don’t even know if our VCR is hooked up or works. I think it does, but it’s been so long. I need to move the old taped stuff to DVD. Future project. Tedious. It can wait.

I sure would like to paint and get some fresh new colors going on in here, but will have to wait until Baby is several months old, and by then, will probably be far too exhausted to consider anything on the lines of home improvement. Maybe I can tackle one or two rooms, when we can open up the windows and get plenty of ventilation. Of course, ventilation is only part of the equation. I need to enlist the efforts of one Mister Gadget, and that is the more daunting task, I’m afraid.

Once I have things settled and arranged on the home front, I think I will start into a little sewing. It’s been a long time! I have a gorgeous felt dragon kit that I brought home from Winterwood. I also copied several of Suse’s fabulous felt animal patterns, and hope to make some of them too.

I find corporate buzzspeak so wearisome.  What does it actually mean?  Drives me nuts.  So, enough of that.

Today I woke up feeling happy.  Not that I don’t usually wake up happy, because I tend to be a morning person, but today I awoke in better spirits than usual.  Which is quite nice.  And to add to an already pleasant morning, BamBam (I’m thinking that I will begin referring to them as Pebbles and BamBam, assuming the peanut really is a girl!) actually woke up on his own.  Which meant that we didn’t have the normal get dressed and ready and out the door struggle. 

I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that, for the first time in I can’t remember when, I didn’t have to get up in the middle of the night to attend to a child or my own bladder that can no longer be ignored.  Or, perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I actually exercised yesterday.  Yes, stop the presses.  We joined a gym, and I’m loving the aqua aerobics.  Especially because the pool is full of real people with real shapes and sizes, and not super models and beach bunnies.  I feel so much more comfortable in this gym environment than I’ve ever felt in the past.  I think it’s part of why I’ve hated gyms for so many years.  The gyms I belonged to in years past tended to be filled with vain and superficial people for which the external appearance was paramount to anything.  Not my scene.  And I even looked good back then! 

Now, I don’t usually do this, but I feel compelled to share a link to an amazing talk given by an amazing woman.  My sister has written a book (and I hope she publishes it soon, because I just know it’s incredible, and want to buy a bazillion copies to send to all my friends –okay, several copies, because I don’t actually have a bazillion friends) and found this link, which she says describes some of the characters in her book.  It’s really great, because it’s science that corroborates her art.  It thrills me!  I listened to it at work — multi-tasking, of course — and ended up needing tissue to dab away tears.  It was that good.

Now, to take some of that insight and do something with it.  Translation:  I really, really, really need to tap into my right hemisphere more.  The question is, how?

It all began with a gift. My sister bought a new dining set, and graciously gave me her old dining table, which is actually quite new. It’s a beautiful table, dark and chunky, with carvings on the sides. It didn’t match anything in my dining area. For as big as my house is, it’s not got the greatest of floor plans with which to work.

I always get a boost when I rearrange things. A fresh new look does much for my frame of mind. So, with enthusiasm and energy, I went about making the rearrangement plans. Now, I will have to say that Mister Gadget is not a fan of change, and sees little to no sense in the rearranging of furniture that is perfectly fine where it is, thank you very much. In order to minimize the unpleasantries that are certain to take place when the actual moving of furniture commences, my plans include as much prep work that I can possibly complete without his help.

So. We have a living room that has been, for the most part, useless, as we tend to convene in the family room. There is a large armoire with display cabinets that was roughly centered along one wall. It needed to move a few feet towards the front of the room. Oh, the ire this request caused! A necessary sacrifice, because once moved, it allowed me to better balance the rest of the room, so now I am much happier with the room, and even happier to say that we have actually used it since. The old table has a home in the front room as well, so now we have a friendly little corner spot where we can play games or work on puzzles. A sofa is opposite the armoire, and the armoire hides a TV, a stereo, the wii, and the PS3. Needless to say, with the PS3 there, the room gets used. I’m delighted that my sweet little boy has taken a fancy to snuggling on this couch with me, while we read about Transformers (his favorite book at the moment), so all members of the family now enjoy this room, albeit at different times.

The treadmill has been banished to the garage where it can continue to collect dust, and the house plants now live in a sitting area on the far wall. All in all, it’s become a worthy room to spend time in. Yes, the massage chair is uglier than sin, but hello? It’s a massage chair! It’s forever welcome in my home.

There was another armoire with display shelves in the dining room, but with the new table, the room was far too congested. They found a new home in the spare room. It was to be the baby’s room, but who am I kidding? We have a family sleeping room, and of course the baby will also sleep there. Just like big brother. Big brother’s room is little more than a toy room, and I’m leaning toward the idea of making it the official toy room, for both of them, rather than his room. One day there may be Tinkerbell posters alongside of Spiderman and Optimus Prime. So the master bedroom is where sleeping takes place. Someday I might make a post about my theory of the family sleeping room as a means of birth control. Not today though. Currently, the room has two beds, and soon will have the baby hammock. So, the spare room can be a comfortable place for guests to stay. It will have a queen bed along with the armoire set, so it will be quite crowded. Crowded, but comfortable. And the family sleeping room will soon have a king bed! The wild child has a way of making an appearance some time in the early hours of morning, and invariably I find a foot or a leg in my face. He’s smart, too. Rather than climb over us, he goes to the foot of the bed and stealthily climbs between us. Maybe we should invest in a bed with a footboard, rather than a bigger bed. I’d like the extra sleeping area though. If little mister busy body manages to climb into the bed, at least I will have a little more room to achieve some semblance of comfort, and hopefully avoid flailing appendages.

With all the furniture moved, we made a trip to IKEA, where we purchased some shelves that better match the new table. Chez Bec inspired me in several ways. She has a shelving unit along one wall that holds dishes, and is very open and family friendly. I like the idea of not having to reach on tippy toes to retrieve a bowl, and not having to move a stack of dishes in order to reach the stack behind. I like a place for everything and everything in its place. Ideally, things would have nice drawers (like Suse’s kitchen) or cabinets in which to live, but my kitchen has shallow drawers and short shelves in the cabinets. So a handsome, open shelving unit is just the ticket. Said idea caused no small amount of chagrin, whilst in IKEA, of course. I like to have my meltdowns in public places. But we have come through the storm and the shelves are up and full of dishes. Easy to get to dishes.

Chez Bec also boasts a beautiful menu board, displayed prominently on a kitchen wall. Brilliant! My version is not nearly so fine, but it’s functional. Perhaps some day I’ll step it up and make it a thing of beauty. Function over form, for now.

Oh how I love a clean, sparkly house! I graciously invited my niece to clean my house, in exchange for a nice wage. My illustrious and industrious 11 year old niece and her best friend have a grand plan to earn money to purchase laptops, so they’ve created a babysitting (and other odd jobs) business, complete with their own web site. Very impressive for eleven year olds. I love that they’re willing to work! I’m happy to help them in their endeavor of fulfilling their dreams, and I love having anybody but me clean the toilets.

So, for this weekend’s accomplishments, I’ve got a squeaky clean house, a new dining room, and fresh looks all around. It may be a bit of early nesting. Whatever it is, it pleases me much. Now, if only I could tame the three year old cyclone (and the forty year old, for that matter) so that my home could stay this way.

I get a newsletter from the Mayo Clinic. Today’s gem: “Coping with stress is easier when you identify your stress triggers, manage your time well and beat burnout.”

Duh…

I can identify my number one stress trigger. That would be Mister Gadget, in all his pleasant glory.

I don’t think I mentioned that I’ve been tapering off the Zoloft. I’m nearly done, and have learned some interesting things in the process. The first thing is that Zoloft worked wonders as a marriage stabilizer. If When Gadget, my man of few words, which, when uttered, tend toward sour and sarcastic, and I bicker (oh, the commas in this sentence are dizzying), I end up the worse for wear, and he is oblivious to the fact that there is even an argument in progress, and generally snaps at me to inquire why I’m being so nasty, again, oblivious to the fact that he is snapping at me. The frustration rises and consumes me in the instant, and I’m powerless to express anything, and find myself on the verge of tears. It’s maddening. And I’m not a nasty, sour person. I’m gentle and pleasant (for the most part).

I ask him what he thinks it means if I need to be medicated in order to live harmoniously with him. “You’re still going on about that? I’m over it. It’s history,” he says, in reference to the spat, assuming that’s where I’m coming from when I ask him what he thinks it means if I need to be medicated… He does that. Makes assumptions about what he thinks I’m talking about, instead of actually listening to what I’m saying. It’s maddening!

And perplexing. At work, effective communication is one of my professional skills. I’m generally diplomatic, patient, and pleasant. I help bridge cultural chasms, for crying out loud, and bring about a meeting of the minds. People are usually cooperative, and even if they’re not, I can still deal with it. But on the home front? We do not communicate well. And I don’t know why. Obviously, I think he could stand to be more cooperative. He just thinks I’m stubborn and overly sensitive. It’s true, I admit it, but I’m generally reasonable, and not stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. Whereas he seems to be stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. It’s more entertaining for him. Or something. It would be nice if he could see that what’s merely entertaining for him is serious for me, and perhaps, possibly, make a little self-sacrifice and attempt to show some consideration for my sensitive nature. To tell me not to be sensitive is of very little help. If I knew how to curb my sensitivities (naturally), then I’d DO it. Work with me here, please.

Meanwhile, I’m pulling out my hair, and wondering if tapering off the Zoloft is such a good idea. Zoloft gave me a buffer that allowed me that instant of time to seek words rather than be immediately incapacitated in the face of frustration. So I wonder how I can possibly acquire that buffer naturally. I don’t need it for work. I don’t need it for my child. I don’t need it for my siblings or my friends. I only need it for Mister Gadget. Why is that?

The other thing I’ve noticed with the taper is that the first few days with a reduced dosage are fine. Even great. But the fourth day is another story. There was a spat on day 4 of the first dosage reduction cycle, and there was a spat on day 4 of this one as well. It could be coincidence, but something tells me it’s not. Interesting. After day 4, things seem to normalize. I go two weeks on each reduction. I’m nearly done. One week to go. I’m wondering if I’ll have another meltdown in a week and four days.

Now, I’m not saying that Gadget is a complete jerk and I’m an angel among angels (although, when it comes to being behind the wheel, it’s a completely different matter, and yes, I’ll say he tends to be a consistent jerk in that respect). The frustrations of which I speak are not a constant thing. THANK GOD! This latest is an unloading of the most recent day 4 experience. We have many harmonious times. There’s not such an emotional need to write things out and unload when things are harmonious, though. The result is a rather lop-sided portrayal of the relationship.

I have a beautiful life. Truly, I do. I just have my moments.

Coming soon, a show and tell post about recent inspirations and corners of my home.

Happy Anniversary, Baby, Got You on My Mind….

Does anybody remember LRB? I used to love them. Well, I still like them, but haven’t heard them in years and years.

Five years ago, today. Las Vegas. Fools for Love. April Fool’s Day! (There is method to my madness. It’s a date that’s easily remembered.)

A Vegas wedding would have been the last thing on my mind, had I married in my twenties or early thirties. By the time I reached my late thirties, all those youthful fantasies of fairytale weddings had long since dissipated.

But enough about weddings and youthful fantasies. Today I heard the heartbeat again!! The doctor put the doppler to my belly and in all of two seconds, there was that beautiful whoosh! whoosh! whoosh! pow! whoosh! pow! that I love so much. (The pow is when the little peanut kicks. Such an active little thing!)

The results from the last screen came back with nothing out of the ordinary. The fetal medicine folks still recommend the detailed echo, and that’s fine. My doctor said that women of age with diabetes sometimes have higher rates of infants with cardiac abnormalities, but not to be alarmed. There’s nothing so far to suspect anything of the sort. The detailed echo would just provide a little more information. It seems that all is well on the baby front, even in the face of statistics, so I am VERY thankful!!

I gained two pounds. That part is a disappointment. But after the recent food frenzy, it shouldn’t be a major surprise. And yes, the frenzy continued, because we dined out tonight to celebrate our marital bliss. Mexican food. Gadget’s favorite. (Next to pasta.) The wild boy even behaved himself, for the most part. I think he had about three bites. Next time I won’t order him his own plate. Once we were back in the car, he immediately started snacking on his Cheerios. Some people’s kids.

So, I had an eventful and productive weekend, if one counts a feeding frenzy as eventful. As if Friday’s blood-sugar-elevating Chinese food was not enough, we had a surprise party dinner meet on Saturday at the local Outback Steakhouse (surprise party for another friend who shares the same birthday). Bona fide Australians would probably laugh. I didn’t even notice one steakhouse while I was in AU. But then again, I might not have been paying very close attention. It was a great get-together, because the attendees were people I used to work with, when I first came to this company. I sort of feel as though I grew up with these people. I’ve since changed jobs, within the company, and many of the people with whom I currently work are refugees from that previous organization. In many ways I count myself very blessed to have a close family of people with whom I’ve shared the better part of my life.

Then, to continue the feeding frenzy, we attended a celebration of life memorial for the wife of a coworker, again, someone I’ve known for over twenty years. It was a lovely get-together as well, with loads of food and drink. My little wild man, although not the worst behaved child at the party, did manage to run away, and climb on stage while my friend was in the middle of his memorial speech. Once I was able to retrieve the little busy-body, I tripped on the way back to our seat, and fell over him (but not on him, thank goodness). Nothing like a grand exit for an already embarrassing situation. I eventually took him out to another room, and soon all the other young ones joined, and the energetic youths ran circles around each other and had a great time together. I, of course, missed the memorial speeches and anecdotes. Mr. Gadget could have taken over the wild-child watch, but said wild-child would have simply followed me back into the auditorium. It was nice to see so many people again, in a social environment. Wild-child was so outgoing, and ran up to greet people he recognized (having met them the night before at dinner). He really surprises me. Both Gadget and I are a bit shy or reserved when it comes to crowds of people. Gadget opens up with drink and family, of course. And I open up with Zoloft!

It was a very busy weekend for a three-year old. In between the feeding frenzies, we also went to the accountant to have our taxes done. I used to do them myself, but find it’s very liberating to have someone else do them. Yes, it costs more, but for the amount of stress it relieves on my part, it’s well worth it. When I do my own, I get all paranoid about whether I’ve done things right, missed anything, or made mistakes. Then I spin into the ‘what if I get audited’ scenario, which sends me further down the slippery slope of stress and impending madness. So. We now see an accountant. Many miles away. But he came on recommendation from a friend, and I’m happy with him, and we only need to journey there once a year. Many miles away is okay.

And, finally, I also managed to make a case for my laptop. Yep, I treated myself to a new Macbook for my birthday. It’s gorgeous, but I have to say, having been a Windows person for over twenty years, I don’t find the Mac with Leopard all that fantabulous, over, say, a Dell. I have a Dell laptop for work, and it’s been incredibly stable and reliable. Now, I’m not going to trash Apple. I actually shared the original Mac with my boyfriend, all those years ago, in college. Okay. The early 80s. I’ve not tried to hide my age!!

I’ve been in a tech world for many years in which Windows and all the MS Office business applications are widely used, so a Mac would be a completely frivolous addition. Hence, I’ve not had one. Until now. The new laptop is my play book. I use it for email, photos, and blogging. All my other stuff remains in Windows. Sadly, I have other stuff. Some day, perhaps I will only have play stuff on the technology front. Not for a while, though.

So. Back to the crafty tale, after having digressed to the point of exhaustion. I scanned Etsy for inspiration, and decided to design my own case. Not that I go anywhere with my laptop, but if ever the need should arise, I’m ready. I don’t have access to Michael Miller’s ‘Zephyr’ line of fabrics, which I love. On short notice, anyway. I just went to JoAnn’s and found something acceptable. I used some thick polar fleece for padding, as well as 3mm craft foam. The zipper extends a couple of inches down on either side, for easy access. A straight zipper at the top, or a zipper all around would have been easier. Lesson learned.

I even made a matching mouse pad. Because I like to coordinate my accessories, you know. Don’t look too close, because it’s not quite finished. I see a rogue thread hanging out.

I put a pocket on each side to hold the accessories. Voila!

In general, I like the way it turned out. It’s a bit snug, but it fits. And my zipper technique leaves much to be desired. It would help if I had a proper zipper foot. Someday I might be able to produce clean lines when stitching, but I sew so infrequently, and lack some of the tools (and abilities) necessary to produce impeccable work.

For now, I’m pleased with my weekend’s efforts.