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Archive for July, 2011

Flag Ponds

After a Saturday full of air-conditioned errands and working in the city, G and I were more than ready to spend some time outside today.  It was too hot to just sit at the beach, though, so we headed to Flag Ponds, which we haven’t done since November 09 — it sure looked a lot different in the winter!  We only took the Goose today, but we decided to go back next weekend with another pup, and — if I’m up for it — the following weekend with the third.  It was a strange day for a hike — hot sunshine mixed with some heavy clouds here and there and the boom of thunder echoing around us.  But it never rained, though the wind picked up quite a bit just as we were leaving.  We hiked for about 90 minutes, and Lucy and I are equally exhausted.  So in lieu of a long post, enjoy some pictures from the day!

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Puppy Love

I’d hate for people to think that because the baby has eaten the blog, we’ve actually been neglecting the pups.  In fact, they’ve had things pretty good around here lately.  Last week I bought them new stuffed toys since they were dragging around scraps of dirty fabric and unstuffed remnants of old toys.  Of course, they promptly destroyed the new toys also, but it seemed like money well spent for the hour of happiness they had with them.

For example, thirty minutes before taking this picture, this was an adorable blue stuffed dog.

When the toy was nothing more than a blue thread of sadness, Lucy decided she wanted in, and paw-slapped Sally until Sally finally gave the rest of the toy up. That toy is no more, though one of the dogs pulled the head out of the trash and has been morbidly carrying that around for the past few days.  I’ll let you guess which twisted dog decided that was the right thing to do.

The dogs also got a pile of bribes bones while G was in Chicago.  Sally mostly carried her treats around like trophies, but Lucy and Linus ate theirs in a matter of minutes.

Lucy then had severe indigestion for two days, and I deeply regretted buying ham bones.  The last set of bones is still sitting in its case, and I’m waiting for a day when G is home alone with them to let that stomach turmoil loose again.

But don’t they look happy at the time?

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Baby Gear

I feel like this blog is a metaphor for our house: full of way more baby gear than it can hold.  That said, these tiny creatures apparently require all sorts of sitting, swinging, bouncing, and sleeping mechanisms, and I’m proud to say that we are not only fully prepared to cater to baby girl’s every motion-filled request, but some of them will actually keep her out of reach of the dogs.

I did diligently put together a comprehensive list of tasks for G to complete upon his return from Chicago, but he jumped the gun and did almost everything before he left (though, curiously, half of the baby’s closet remains un-wallpapered, and I seemingly cannot find the rest of the wallpaper roll anywhere).  He installed car seats and bases, put together a pack n play, a bouncer, and a swing, hooked up monitors, and fixed closet handles that I may or may not have broken while organizing things.  It was quite the amazing feat of daddy-to-be-ness.

And lest you think putting baby stuff together is easy, I would like to present you with something you will never ever see again: G reading instructions because there was no other way to make sense of the disaster of plastic pieces that spilled out of every box.

I should also note that his motivation to cross things off his list was perhaps only somewhat greater than his motivation to rid our house of boxes.  If there’s nothing that irritates G more, it’s boxes. 

But look at how amazing everything looks now that it is put together and in place!  You can hardly even tell that we’ve tripled the amount of seating in each room of the house…

Swing from Grandpa Jones!

Pack n Play from Mom and Dad J!

Bouncer from Liz W!

While G was putting together the easy stuff, I was doing the real work — putting together baby girl’s coming home outfit for the hospital bag.  And even though she’ll barely be in it, and even though she’ll be covered by a blanket, and even though she’ll probably spit up all over it, yadda yadda, I still care.

And I’m pretty pleased with my selection.

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Term.

G is back (hooray!).  We celebrated his return by a stop to our favorite little Mexican restaurant.  We haven’t actually been there in a couple of months, which is pretty unusual for us, and several of the waiters stopped by to ask how we were doing.  (But before you think that I’ve turned into housewife sainthood and have dedicated myself to cooking 7 nights a week, you should know that the reason we haven’t eaten out much recently is because I can cajole G into cooking on the grill any night of the week so long as I have a stash of grillable food items — and let’s face it, what can’t be grilled?  Rest assured that once summer grilling season is over, the only three restaurants in Calvert that we ever go to will look mighty tempting once again.)  In fact, it’s been so long since we were last there that they’ve completely redone the menus in that time.  And lo and behold, the off-the-menu item that G insists on ordering every.single.time we go there, despite my pleas to just order something they have, is now officially On The Menu.  And just in case you think this is coincidence, our favorite waiter actually made a point to stop by and ask if we’d noticed G’s item on the menu.  Okay, so maybe we should go there a bit more often now…

G celebrated official menu-dom with their special Iguana margarita.

We came home from dinner to find a box of goodies on the doorstep from Chicago — a wonderful shower present from Liz full of baby and mother necessities, none of which we had!  Breastfeeding essentials, baby first aid supplies, a torch nightlight and a stroller caddy — two items that G is especially excited about after seeing them in action during his visit , baby books, and some very special handmade items, including a knit newborn hat and our very own knit giraffe (first featured on Lizzie’s blog in blue, of course).  Everything has already been set up and put into rightful places (except for the giraffe which is stashed far out of reach of the puppies’ greedy little mouths, and except for the breastfeeding supplies which were moved to the closet shelf that already contains my pump and other things I’ve dubbed ‘too intimidating to open before baby comes’).  Below are a few pictures of the wonderful, thoughtful collection of items that will make baby girl’s transition (or my transition, at the very least) just a little bit smoother. 

 

And with all that excitement — margaritas! knit giraffes! — we’re officially at 37 weeks, also known to most as ‘term’.  And even though I am perfectly content to let baby girl hang out as long as she needs to, I also have no desire to get to the point where the dreaded induction conversations occur.  So with my yoga ball, some grilled jalapenos, and my hypnobabies ‘baby come out cd’ all queued and ready to go, I say… Game on, baby girl!

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Still Hot.

The weekend at home with the puppies is winding up, and it’s a good thing because they’re cranky from being indoors all weekend and as sick of the heat as the rest of the eastern seaboard.  Last night was especially trying and none of them felt like sleeping anymore.  Lucy was up at 12 crying to go outside, Sally was up at 4 ready to play, and at 5 Linus decided he would like to kill Sally. (To be fair, Linus likely has those thoughts regularly, though he rarely tries to tackle her in the middle of the night.)  So at 5 I sent Sally and Linus downstairs to work it out amongst themselves and went back to bed upstairs with Lucy who was now fast asleep after her middle-of-the-night backyard jaunt.  That lasted till 6 when she decided that she, too, was done with sleeping.

So it was another early morning, and it’s been another productive day.  I did almost everything on my list yesterday, which left very little to do today besides type out my birth plan for the hospital.  I’m doing two versions — the brief, bullet-point list of priorities that I hope I can use when I get there; and the longer, more detailed version in case we end up with the night nurse from our training class who would obviously disagree with me on every detail.  Hopefully it won’t come to that, but if G and/or Mom are armed with the comprehensive list, it should be easier to keep her (or other nurses who ‘don’t advocate natural birth’) out of my hair.

Two large trash bags later, everything in the nursery has been unwrapped, unpackaged, opened up, and set up, and suddenly it’s not just a storage room for cute things, but a totally functional nursery set up for sleeping and diaper changes and feeding.  It was a little surreal to put everything in its place and think to myself, this is where I will want it when the baby is here.  I’ve enjoyed pregnancy, and I don’t want to wish the last few weeks of it away, and truthfully it is still very hard to believe that there will be a little girl at the end of all of this.  But yesterday’s process did make it all seem a lot more real.

The dogs have gotten over their initial reactions to the nursery — jumping, playing, and all-out excitement at being let in the ‘forbidden room’ — and have come to think of it as a quiet, cozy place to rest.  I’ve left the door open all weekend so they can get used to it being like that, and they’ve each wandered in at one point and slept quietly in the corner of the white shag rug.  Last night, all three slept in a ball on the white rug during baby story hour.  In hindsight, I should have just kept them in there…  Either way, I want them to think of it as the room where they’re not allowed to play or wrestle, and lately it seems to be sinking in.

G will be home tomorrow, which makes all four of us happy.  He has one more day with Liz and Drei and Biggie and The Really Big Cat and, of course, Little M.  We weren’t able to find any Calvert County onesies for G to bring to Chicago, so he brought the next best thing:

It looks a little like home.

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Weekend for 4

The puppies and I are on our own this weekend, which would be way more awesome if it weren’t 104 degrees outside with a heat index of 120.  The windows are fogged so I can’t see outside, but I assume it’s disgusting.  I watered the plants this evening (because G lays a mean guilt trip when it comes to dead plants during his absence…) and it was torturous.  Needless to say, this weekend isn’t all beach trips and puppy pools.  It is more like air conditioners and ice cubes.  Because the thought of three stir-crazy dogs staring at me all weekend was totally unappealing, I’m not ashamed to say I bought them ridiculously overpriced bones to keep them entertained tonight.

As it turns out, they ate the bones (which I didn’t actually think were ‘eatable’…uhh…) in about thirty minutes.  Fail.

But it’s all for a good cause.  Because G is in Chicago spending time with this guy:

Wait, I mean THIS guy:

The John Deere onesies will definitely fit Little M better than Drei.

I’m so jealous I’m not in Chitown with G and Little M and Liz and Drei and Biggie and The Really Big Cat, so I’m going to just wait impatiently for pictures and more pictures.

Like this one.

In other news, it’s hot here.  Did I mention that?  And I mean HOT.  So hot that my plan to just have Starbucks for dinner didn’t even sound appetizing to ME.  I know.  It’s like the apocalypse.

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36 weeks and counting

We had the longest docs appointment yet today, though it wasn’t nearly as extensive as I thought it would be, primarily because the “36 week talk”, which consists of choosing a pediatrician, watching for signs of labor, knowing when to go to the hospital — yanno, important stuff — was given to us in the form of a worksheet, aptly titled on top “36 week talk”.  I kind of feel like the utter laziness of giving this in double-sided worksheet form is underscored by referring to it as a “talk”.  Regardless, there was still blood work and GBS testing today on top of the normal appointment things, so it wasn’t the same quick in and out we are accustomed to.  Everything went well — baby girl is head down and ‘getting big’, neither of which are shocks to me.  Her heartbeat was strong, even though she moved away from the doctor like she always does.  And my stats are all the same — weight was barely up from two weeks ago and bp was 100/62 for the third or fourth straight appointment.  I feel pretty comfortable skipping next week’s 37wk appointment while my doctor is on vacation.

Of course the big thing everyone is watching for is progress.  Because I like to pick my battles, doc checked things out today while she was doing GBS.  I’ve told her several times this is the only time I’ll let her check things out, but I know we’re going to cross this bridge again at 38 weeks.  At any rate, according to the doc, the contractions and cramps I am having indicate ‘I should really pack my bags’.  The lack of progress I’m showing means ‘she’ll probably be a post-due date baby’.  In other words, my doctor has no freakin’ clue when she’s coming and really shouldn’t try to guess.  And since one or both of those could be reversed, and it would still mean nothing towards the likely due date of baby girl, I think the whole concept of even checking is a little silly.  I’m actually pretty relieved though — I think if there had been tons of progress, it would have been hard not to think ‘early arrival’ even though I know one has very little bearing on the other.  Knowing she’s still tucked up quietly means I can keep on trucking with my expectation that she’ll arrive shortly after my due date.  So no disappointment here!

And lastly, it wouldn’t be a 36 week milestone without the picture proof.  It’s a casual day because we’re working from home today due to our appointment schedule.  This afternoon we’re doing a meet-n-greet with my pediatrician of choice just to make sure he’s not, yanno, totally crazy or something.

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