Stream of Consciousness

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  Throwback Thursday -- taken about June of last year
  
• I had my postpartum visit with my OB earlier this week.  With Finn in daycare still due to $$ in my FSA account, I took Fish.  (Just quickly, our hospital has an on-call OB.  When you go into labor, you get one of the 25+ OBs on our side of the city.  I was lucky enough to have my OB deliver Finn.  And I was only 8 hours away from having him deliver Fish.  If only, he didn't come so fast...  But he came and visited me in postpartum during a lull in his deliveries.)  Of course, Fish wasn't cooperating and crying.  But my OB is so wonderful that he took Fish out of his carseat and walked him around his offices while I was getting dressed.  Is it weird that I'm really sad that I'm not going to be seeing him again until next year?  In fact, I told him that I was sad I wasn't going to be seeing him on a monthly or weekly basis anymore.  And I told him that I just might make an appointment to visit him during the next 12 months.  I'm really going to miss seeing him so frequently.
• I have started exercising on Monday (today is Thursday) and I've already lost 2 pounds!  I didn't work out on Tuesday due to Fish's toe situation.  My ultimate goal is going to be to work out before the kids gets up in the morning.  But right now with Toegate, he is up daily at around 3pm and usually really fussy & sleeping lightly until about 7am.  Eventually he is going to be sleeping in the morning and I hope to work out at 6am, so that I can shower & get ready while E is still home.  I'm also hoping for the weather to warm so we can get out and walk the dog and kids daily which will help get me moving.  My initial goal weight is only 15 pounds away (which is my pre-pregnancy with Fish weight), which will get me back into my old clothes.  My ultimate goal weight is 10 lighter than that.  And I'll continue to work towards that after I have reached my initial goal.

 

Throwback Thursday -- taken about June of last year

• I'm still back and forth about staying at home or returning to work.  I've decided that I'm going to make a pro/con list for each and hope that subconsciously I am leaning one way.  I think that seeing my return to work date on our household calendar really shocked me and made me realize that I only have four weeks left.  Womp womp.
• I've forgotten what some of the parts of my house look like because it seems like forever since I've been in those rooms.  I used to clean every section of my house at least once a week.  Ha!  There are things that haven't been cleaned in MONTHS!  Once I got to the part of pregnancy where I was too huge to bend over, all the cleaning stopped.  Once Fish gets big enough to sit in a bumbo and entertain himself, I'll be doing some serious deep cleaning.  If I stay home, I've already thought of all the projects that I have mentally listed that I wanted to finish this summer.

 

Throwback Thursday -- June of last year

One of my favorite videos of all time 

• One of those projects?  I want to have my own garden.  Am I crazy?  Absolutely!  Not only due to the time needed to tend the garden but also for the herd of deer that live in our neighborhood.  I haven't figured out how to keep out the deer, squirrels, woodchucks, skunks, opossums, and raccoons yet.  But with the way that this gosh-darn spring is going, I'll have PLENTY of time to think about it as I won't be able to plant anything for months yet.
• I've also forgotten what it's like to turn up the music in the kitchen, get a glass of wine and just dance to crazy music.  Finorah and I used to do it all the time.  I mean, hell... How could we forget this video?

 

Throwback Thursday -- June of last year

One of my favorite videos of all time

Postpartum Bumpdate: 6 weeks

 

So, here we are... Six weeks postpartum...  Still not there yet...  But I've come a long way, baby!  As evidenced by the photo below, which was taken the day before I delivered.

I have lost 29 pounds of my 47, which leaves me 18 pounds still to go.  Not too shabby.  Unfortunately, those 18 pounds sit square on my gut, hips, and ass.  And if anyone cares, those are the key places that used to fit into a pair of jeans.  I came to that HUGE revelation yesterday as I was trying on some pre-pregnancy jeans.  Talk about deflating.  I also realized yesterday that in my pre-pregnacy days, I was a hussy.  Why you might ask?  Because I actually wore jeans that fit me perfectly and snug to my body.  I don't own a single pair of pants that are a size bigger or a pair of pants that were baggy on me.  Therefore, yesterday at six and a half weeks postpartum, I had to wear a pair of maternity pants to my doctor's appointment.  (Womp, womp.  Enter sad trombone here.)  But as I keep reminding myself, it took 9 months to put ON the weight and I shouldn't be surprised if it takes 9 months to take OFF the weight. (Even though I'm secretly hoping that it will all be gone in the next six weeks...)

My weight loss is starting to pick up again, because I'm realizing that I can't eat like I'm pregnant anymore.  I've started logging my food in the My Fitness Pal app, just to help me realize how much crap I'm stuffing in my face during the day.  I have a mini-goal of losing another 2 pounds before my postpartum appointment with Emery next week.

I am also happy to report that my face appears to be coming back into it's own.  Everyone knows about pregnancy fat face, which I had in full effect at the end of my pregnancy.  And everyone knows about postpartum tired face.  In fact, the scientist told me during my hayday of tired face that I looked ten years older!  If bags under my eyes could have killed, he would have been stabbed 46 times in his un-dark-circled eyes.  Due to the fact that Fish is starting to sleep a little more at night, I'm able to not feel so exhausted during the day and the dark circles are starting to fade.  Hallelujah!

On a sad note?  My hair is starting to fall out.  My beautiful pregnancy hair is starting to end up in the shower drain and on my coat.  I'm thinking that to "celebrate", I need to make a hair appointment have a trim and a color.  I've had my natural hair color for the last three years and I think it's time for a rejuvenation...  And maybe I should throw in a pedicure and a massage while I'm being selfish... 

Returning from hiatus...

Two trailer park girls go 'round the outside...  'Round the outside... 'Round the outside...

So I've been gone for a while.  Long enough to grow a baby, gain 47 pounds and pop that baby out.  And that baby literally popped out!  But now I'm back (hopefully to stay).

This post is going to be short and sweet -- as I have a screaming baby in the background.  But just to reiterate regarding the title of the blog -- nobody died.  It's a play on words.  I sometimes classify myself as a widow because the Scientist works some pretty long hours that makes me feel like a widow sometimes.

This place is going to be more about my stories, a place to find myself back after being stretched and pulled by two little bundles of snot, poop and joy.  My stupid humor.  My silly adventures.  And a place to be held accountable for my myriad of goals, which we'll dig into later in the week.

BumpDate: 14 weeks

So, here we are... 14 weeks, officially entering into the second trimester.  We announced earlier this week, once I had notified my parents this past weekend, my brother's family and my best friend/honorary sister.  Then the photo from the previous post was posted to FaceBook.  I got three calls from my family within 10 minutes of each other.  So I had proceeded to shock those who had no idea.

That's the nice thing about living far away from family.  You can hide your stomach as much as you need while video-chatting or only posting photos of yourself where you don't look pregnant.  But that's probably the only nice thing.  I have one person left to notify before the entire cat is out of the bag -- the doctor that I work with.  I have plans on notifying him this afternoon.  If anyone hears a huge explosion at some point this afternoon, it's his head 'sploding from his mind being blown by having his only two coordinators being pregnant at the same time.  Honestly, I don't know how he doesn't know.  This stomach isn't in hiding -- if he seriously doesn't know, he must think that I'm a fat cow.

Being that I've entered into the second trimester, I'm waiting for my first trimester symptoms to go away.  I'm over the nauseous, like seriously OVER IT.  I want to enter into the trimester where I don't just want toast for dinner or don't even want to cook dinner for The Lady because I can't stand the thought of having to eat whatever it is that I'm making for her.

Over the weekend, we also found out that it's a boy.  The Scientist is, of course, over the moon.  I am still trying to pinch myself in hopes of waking up from a bad dream.  I didn't want a boy, but I didn't think I would be this disappointed about hearing the news that it was a boy.  I had just dreams about two girls, sisters, and all the great things that we would do together.  But as is the saying of my life... "You can't always get what you want -- but if you try sometimes, you just might find that you get what you need."  I have no doubt that once I meet little "Fish & Chips" that I'm going to love him over and over and over.  I think that most of my disappointment right now is grieving the other daughter that I'll never have.

I also found out yesterday that I am CMV negative.  What is that, you ask?  It's a herpes virus and with The Scientist being a Scientist, he knows viruses -- and it's a terrible virus if you catch it while pregnant as it can cause some major birth defects in the unborn.  Apparently, because I have a hot zone of a CMV contractor in The Lady (who is the perfect age to acquire it at daycare), I am no longer allowed to kiss her (save on her head or forehead), I can't wipe her boogers with my finger (which I absolutely LOVE doing), I can't share utensils or drinking cups with her, and I have to thoroughly wash my hands after each dirty diaper (which I've been doing -- most of the times anyways).  The thing that broke my heart yesterday was the fact that I couldn't kiss her on her cheeks or lips anymore (at least until Fish & Chips arrives).  I cried quite a while over that.  Crazy hormonal pregnant lady...

Speaking of ladies, she likes to take self portraits on my phone -- although she doesn't realize that she is actually taking her photo.  I totally "heart" them.

Spreading the news...

It's a boy!

Bumpdate Alert! 13 weeks edition

Edit: Written on last Thursday

I have officially entered into my second trimester.  Wahoo!

We won't be officially spilling the beans until next week when I receive the results to my fetal genetics testing.  At that point, we will be able to release the sex of the baby along with the announcement.  Even before I got pregnant, I knew how I wanted to announce this pregnancy.  With The Lady, we didn't really announce.  The Scientist was still pretty anxious about being a new dad and the news kind of dripped out rather than releasing the floodgates (which this one will be).  With this one (hopefully) being my last one, I wanted to do it big(ger) than we did with the first.

I still feel quite icky.  In trying to reflect when I was over my morning sickness with The Lady, I want to say that it continued until about 14 weeks.  So I'm hopeful that within the next two weeks, the ickiness will fade and normalcy will return (I have forgotten what it feels like to not feel icky and tired, though I don't think the tired feelings will be going anywhere).

I have spread the news a little at work.  My co-worker who will be leaving at any moment for maternity leave was told yesterday.  She had the balls to tell me that I am showing way too early for 13 weeks, that my bump was too big for 13 weeks.  Without being crass, she is a big girl and no one could really tell she was pregnant until she was 8 months along -- so I really don't think that she should be throwing any "your-bump-is-too-big" stones my way.  I honestly don't know why she said it -- you would think that she (the pregnant lady of all people) would know better than to say "boy, you look big!"

I have yet to tell the PI (principal investigator) that I work for.  He is not my supervisor (I told her a couple of weeks ago to inquire about coverage of an upcoming OB appointment) and he is a real douche-nozzle.  So I'm waiting for one of the days where I am really despising his attitude towards me to drop the bomb on him.  My co-worker said that when she told him of her pregnancy, he didn't even congratulate her!  But he is a post for another day.

Fingers are crossed that my first trimester symptoms will go away this week!

Wet feet & the pitter-patter of raccoon's feet

Yeah, so Saturday morning at 4:30am -- THIS happened....

This is after the water had receded quite a bit.

In case you can't tell and think that we just have shiny carpet, I awoke to 6 inches of water in my basement.  So there I was -- alone with my 17 month-old, two dogs, three cats, and 6 inches of water.  To say that "last weekend was stressful" was quite the understatement.

The Scientist left for one of his annual conference on Friday afternoon.  I had a fabulous week of girl time planned, which included lots of chick-flick watching and eating.  The powers that be had other plans...
Now before I continue with my story, the one thing that I must tell you is that I get Paranoid with a capital P at nightfall whenever The Scientist is gone.  So Friday night, it begins to rain & storm around 11pm-ish. This just feeds into my paranoia.  My thoughts quickly run to how much easier it is for someone to break into my house and trap my daughter and myself upstairs to kill us with there is lots of thunder and the dogs can't hear a break-in.  By checking the radar from my iPad in the darkness of my bedroom constantly, I learn that the storm is moving due-east and my house is sitting along the storm front line.  So we are continually battered by heavy rains and heavy winds for hours.

Around 4:30, both dogs were laying in my bedroom, which makes me even more paranoid since they can't hear what's going on downstairs.  I think that I hear a car turning on gravel, which makes me think that someone has drove into my driveway.  I get out of bed to look out the window to check and notice that my front yard is engulfed in water.  The entire front yard is water.  In the four years of living here, I had never seen anything like it.  So I think to myself "Self, The Scientist isn't going to believe you unless you get photographic evidence."

I head downstairs to take my photographs from the front door and I notice Norman (one of my cats) sitting at the top of the basement stairs, just staring down.  My instant reaction was "Holy Shit!  Someone's in the basement!!!!"  I reach my arm around the corner to flip on the lights, petrified of seeing someone standing at the foot of the stairs.  As I peek around the corner, all I see is water...

To make a really long story shorter, I had 6 inches of water in my basement.  I called insurance, they are covering it to our limit (which isn't that high).  The culprit ended up being a drain that was outside the basement door that couldn't keep up with the heavy rain for so long.  Thankfully, the three drains in our basement were working and the water was completely drained out by 7:00am.  We ended up being in a catastrophe area, according to my insurance company and couldn't get an emergency claim to come out and help me clean it.  The most that I could do was put a fan downstairs and then I put a fan on the steps pointing downward to keep the musty air down.  So my basement still sits wet -- just waiting for The Scientist and my father to come and rip out the carpet.  The house is beginning to get that damp basement smell.

Last night, this happened (though the photo was taken this morning as the number were still sitting on my phone)...

Before continuing, please know that I didn't end up making the call.  But I did walk downstairs with this dialed in, just in case someone was going to jump out at me.  So the night was normal, The Lady went to bed around 8pm.  I cleaned up after she fell asleep and then laid down next to her (in my bed) to watch a little television before falling asleep.  As I'm laying in bed, watching TV, Munk suddenly jumps up off his bed and starts barking downstairs.  I quickly flip on the downstairs landing light and he, Bishop (my other old, mostly deaf dog) and I all stand silently at the top of the stairs, just waiting for another noise.  Nothing comes.  So I go back to bed and continue watching my DVR'ed show.  Another minute later, Munk again jumps up from his bed and races to the top of the stairs, furiously barking down the stairs.  Now I start wigging out.  I dial 9-1-1 on my phone and have my thumb hovering over the "call" button as I slowly descend the stairs.  Although Munk is a ferocious watch dog, he is a complete scaredy-cat -- totally letting me go down to battle with the intruder myself.  My heart is pumping a thousand miles a minute as I sneak around downstairs, inspecting each of the entryways into my home (there are three separate doors).  All turn out to be locked and no signs of a burglar.

I go back upstairs, assuming that Munk must have heard the cats running around downstairs and that's what set him off.  I climb back into bed and then I heard the thumping that Munk must have heard earlier.  I silenced the TV at least three times to better hear the thumping.  Someone was on the roof!!!!  But the more that I listened to the thumping, I realized that the pattering were too close together for it to be a human.  I ruled out coyote as they can't climb and mountain lion as there aren't any in our area.  The only thing that I think could have been making those noises were fat-ass raccoons!  We had a raccoon living in an easement a couple of years back -- but we closed it off with liquid nail and those suckers wouldn't be able to get back in.  My only thought was they were returning for their stay at Casa de Scientist and realized that we had closed up shop!

I seriously can not wait for The Scientist to come home -- only so I can get a good night's sleep.