Ta da!

Turns out if you're old enough and you manage to keep your blood pressure high enough, they don't like you to keep being pregnant.  A couple of Fridays ago, I didn't feel so hot, so I went to Walgreens to have someone check my blood pressure.  It was not good, so I went to my doctor.  They checked it a couple of times, made me pee in a cup for the thousandth time, and took some blood for testing.  They sent me home with instructions to lay low for the weekend and call them if I didn't start feeling better or if I started feeling worse.  I had a regular check-up scheduled the following Tuesday, so if nothing went drastically wrong, we would all reconvene then.  Good good.

I felt good the rest of the weekend and thought we were smooth sailing...right up until the nurse told me my blood pressure at the beginning of my appointment on Tuesday.  It was still high.  So my doctor came in, looked over the nurse's notes and said, "Well, since you're old, and you now have two high blood pressure readings logged in a row, we don't want you to go passed 37 weeks." Ummmm, but 37 weeks was the next day.  "Yep!" she says, "Let's have a baby tomorrow!"

Whoa whoa whoa.  Tomorrow?  Like tomorrow.  Tomorrow.  What.  I had mentally prepared myself for him to arrive a couple weeks early, but I was NOT ready for her to tell me we were inducing and it was happening in less than 24 hours from where my naked butt was sitting.  But that was what was happening.  So we put me on the schedule to show up at the hospital at a bright and shiny 8:30am, and I headed back to work absolutely FREAKING OUT.  I just kept saying, "Tomorrow.  Like for real tomorrow.  Oh my god TOMORROW."  I got everything in order at work and at home and attempted to sleep.  Tried and failed.

Wednesday morning we dropped a very excited but nervous Alex off at daycare and made our way to the hospital.  I will spare you the details of the long day of waiting...but it did maybe include some stunning modeling of disposable mesh underwear..

We waited for a long time for the medicine to convince my body to have this baby.  But after a long wait, and a ton of crazy contractions, he decided he was ready to come out and he was done waiting.  6 minute delivery.  I went from 5cm dialated to holding my son in 25 minutes.  Things got a little crazy at the end there!

But, crazy with an awesome ending.  It is my pleasure to introduce to you Mr. Samuel Robert Julius.

Excuse me...sir? Your pants are on fire.

The arguing has taken a turn to straight up lying.  Sometimes it's funny, like blaming farts on his dad.  But most times, it's lying in a sad attempt to get out of trouble.

Yesterday, when I picked him up from day care, his day care teacher told me he had a great day.  So I said, "High five buddy!  That's awesome!"  And he replied, "You should give me two high fives Mom...I had a good day at 4K too!"  Yay!  High fives all around.

Fast forward to this morning when I checked my email only to see a message from his 4K teacher just giving me a heads up that he had a rough day at 4K yesterday...not listening, being disruptive, etc.  Sooooo, yeeeeaaaahhhh.  We're gonna have to have a little chat this evening.  And by "we" I may or may not be referring to my foot and his ass.

What are you even doing?

The shape of this belly is ridiculous.  It's a jutting cliff on my left side and a smooth gradual slope on my right.  I cannot wrap my head around how he is positioned in there.

This is a straight shot down.  I am not leaning to the side or at a strange desk with a funky curve to it.  The child is the only funky thing in this picture.

Always glowing

Yep, I'm done.

Too bad I'm not actually done.

Fooled you

According to my mom, it's "hard to believe this angelic little boy could shit in someone's yard."

Pretty sure this picutre makes it a little easier to believe.

The rings are back on today, but the cankles have taken up permanent residence.  I've also been leaning on my baseball since the first 45 minutes of being at my desk.  I am enjoying this so much.

They have arrived...

The cankles and swollen feet.  They're here.  They mysteriously and thankfully disappear overnight, but only to return by midday...

The beautiful nail polish is compliments of my darling son and niece.  He picked the colors, she painted.

Puffy

The swelling has begun.  Before the humidity hit yesterday morning, I thought, "still wearin' my wedding ring at almost 36 weeks...hells yes."  And then I stepped outside.  The combination of humidity and baby growing body proved that to be a poor decision within 20 minutes.  I barely got them off with soap.  And by midday, my feet were swollen enough to feel pinched in flip flops.  Good times.

Deep Breaths

When I got home from picking up Alex on Friday, I heard, "Hi Jackie!" from the street as I was maneuvering my giant self out of Travis's low-ish riding car while wrangling the dog and answering a never ending stream of questions from the backseat driver.  I was decked out in non-maternity yoga pants, a barely long enough tshirt and a hoodie.  Add stray hairs getting my mouth and nose after falling out of my hastily fastened ponytail, and I was a sight to behold.

The climb out of the car required more effort than I would like to admit and by the time I got over to the idling car in the street, I was out of breath.  I arrived at the waiting car to find an acquaintance smiling a perfect smile while donning her perfect Ray-Bans that picked up the highlights in her perfect hair that went perfectly with her perfect outfit.  But things really hit bottom when she lost a little glimmering in her smile and said, "Oh...you've reached the heavy breathing point."

Bitch, I will cut you.  There is absolutely no need ever to tell a 9 month pregnant person they have achieved the breathing status of an obese water buffalo.  No need.  Ever.

Alternative Medicine

One huge benefit of having a coworker that coaches baseball?  He has a baseball in his car.  And that baseball is the EXACT size of the burning muscle ache I have in my back from the child cramming his butt into my ribcage.  So here I sit, leaning against a baseball.  But my back is getting some relief.

Acorn? Tree?

I was just about to make a quick comment about the level of class I am currently displaying while shuffling around my freshly washed kitchen floor with paper towels on my feet because my feet are dirty enough that I was leaving dirty footprints on the wet floor, and then it hit me that maybe I shouldn't be throwing judgmental stones at my son...you know, living in this fancy glass house I as I am.

At least I'm keeping my trashy antics indoors.

Lawn Crew

We are still steadily meeting our neighbors as everyone crawls out from the depths of their winter bunkers.  We found out a while ago that a person Travis worked with about 10 years ago lives across the street.  And she has a little girl a couple months older than Alex.  Perfecto!

The other day I was talking to this nice lady and she asked if she could borrow our lawn mower as they just realized theirs needs repairs and being spring and all, the repair shop is about 3 weeks behind.  Of course you can!  That is a very neighborly thing to do!  We can be friendly!  I mean, let's not jump the gun and think we're gonna be besties right away, but let's be friendly in a normal neighborly way!  So a couple days later she and her daughter came over to borrow the mower.  The little girl asked if Alex wanted to come play while her mom was mowing the lawn.  And then the mom said the most glorious thing to me.  "They're just gonna play outside while I mow, so I can keep an eye on them if you've got some stuff to get done or you just want to relax for about 45 minutes."  Ho-ly shit.  Yes.  Yes I do.  You know what I have to do?  I have to pee like a thousand times without having to simultaneously shout that I'll be right there to see how cool something is.  And I have to fold some laundry without anyone "helping" me.  And I have to sit.  Just sit.  Forget what I said about being besties.  You're stuck with me now.  I took her up on her offer and down the sidewalk they went.

After I bit, I strapped the leash on the dog and headed over to see how things were going.  She was still working on the lawn, so I hung out with the kids.  When she was done, we all were in the front of the house and the kids were creating chalk masterpieces on the driveway.  Well, her daughter was.  Alex drew what he claimed was a monster truck with 9 different horns and then took to zooming down the driveway on a baby scooter and crashing in the grass.

After about a dozen trips down the driveway, Alex took off for the backyard.  I didn't think too much of it as there is a play set and trampoline back there.  But as I watched him run around the back of the house, I saw Travis pull into the driveway.  So I yelled to Alex that it was time to go home because Daddy was home.  No answer.  So I yelled again.  No answer.  So, nice neighbor lady, the dog, and I went around to the back  of the house.  Me to collect my child; her to grab the lawn mower.  And that's when Alex came around the side of the house...buttoning his pants.

I immediately asked what he was doing and with a non-chalant answer of "I was going potty," I was instantly mortified.  Nice neighbor lady just laughed as I was scrambling to apologize while scolding my pee monster for turning her yard into his own personal urinal.  She carried on to the retrieve the lawn mower and I looked at Alex and was like, "DUDE.  You cannot pee in people's yards."  And that's when I was slapped in the face with the reality of what mortified really feels like.

"I pooped, too."
"What.  No you didn't."
"Yes I did...right next to where I went potty."
"I'm not sure I believe you.  But we're leaving and will talk about this when we get home."

And after a bit more of conversation, he confirmed that he in fact POOPED IN THE NEIGHBOR'S YARD because he "really had to go."  Oh!  You really had to go?  Well then that makes perfect sense as to why you didn't ask to go inside the house to use the toilet!!!  He did explain that he didn't think he could back in the house because when he first got there, he and the little girl went in the house to get something and they accidentally let the dog out without a leash or collar so he didn't think he should go back in again.  Yes, honey you're right.  You shouldn't just go in someone's house like you own it.  But I'm preeeetty sure you definitely should ask an adult to take you inside if you need to poop.  Good.  Gravy.

So, now here I sit, hoping the neighbor 1. Doesn't find the poop; 2. Finds it, but assumes it's the doing of her dog; or 3. It monsoon rains and washes any evidence into oblivion.  Given #1 and #3 are highly unlikely, and I'm guessing she will question the origin of said poop since she had JUST picked up all of the dog poop in order to mow, I'm thinkin' I need to have a little chat with her and once again profusely apologize for my child's animal on safari behavior.

We are totally kicking ass at this living in the suburbs thing.

9 blissful years

I'm pretty sure it's a sign of having your shit together when the only reason you remember your anniversary is because your sister sent you a Happy Anniversary email.  Both of us completely forgot.  I saw my phone blinking that I had a new message this morning and when I checked it and saw the subject line, I called Travis and said, "Ummm...we forgot something this morning...Happy Anniversary!"

35 Weeks.

I feel like the expression pretty well sums up my general mood as of late.  Just, "Welp.  Still huge."  Seriously this kid needs to get his butt out of my right side ribs.  It not only causes a sharp pain where he's pushing on the front of my ribcage, but it also causes a sharp pain in my back at the exact same height as the pain in the front.  And it only gets worse the longer I sit.  Which is super convenient since I sit at a desk all freaking day.

I tried pushing him over a little while ago and I shit you not, he kicked my hand.  Or punched it or something.  Whatever appendage he used, he definitely was pushing back.  Testing me already...awesome.

Ready?

Baby is head down and where he's supposed to be.  My doctor seems to think this one will follow in his brother's footsteps and arrive a bit earlier than scheduled.  We shall see.  I can't lie, I wouldn't be sad about not making it the full 40 weeks.  Shocking, right?

An interesting thought hit me today though...I'm super ready to not be pregnant, but not so sure I'm super ready to have a baby.  I have a sneaking suspicion this may be a problem.

Fancy

Alex picked out earrings for me today.  Not only do they go perfectly with my outfit, they also are completely work appropriate, no?

Nothing says "take me seriously professionally" quite as succinctly as earrings that almost reach your shoulders.