“They’re vampires.”
Joan Vixer made this statement in response to an inquiry from her daughter.
“Oh?” Ann asked for elaboration.
“They only come out at night,” Joan said. “They moved in two weeks ago and the only time we’ve ever seen them is after dark.”
Joan and Ann were sitting in Joan’s small living room. Ann and her husband, Steven, were visiting from Minneapolis for the weekend. The house next to Joan’s had been for sale for well over a year. It was your average suburban bi-level house. The vinyl siding was a taupe color that blended in with all the other vinyl-sided houses in Joan’s neighborhood. It was not in the least bit scary.
Ann enjoyed listening to her parents talk about their lives in South Fargo. Ann had grown up in a small town in North Dakota with her parents and her younger brother. She had had a great childhood. Normal. She loved her parents but, like many children, only really got to appreciate them as people after she had grown up herself. Her mom and dad had moved to Fargo several years earlier after Ann and Steven had gotten married. Her younger brother, Craig, lived with his wife if West Fargo. Since Ann’s mother and father had moved into their suburban, South Fargo home, they had come up with entertaining nicknames for many of their neighbors.
First, there was Bob the Viking Guy. The Viking Guy referred to Bob’s love of the football team the Minnesota Vikings, not to any resemblance Bob may or may not have had to a blonde, sea-faring raider. Bob the Viking Guy lived on the other side of what was now the Vampire house.
Next, Ann’s dad, Barney, had named the man living two houses north of them Doug Voler. The origination of this nickname was more complicated. Voles are small rodents that live in the ground. During the winter, they make tunnels. After the snow melts in the spring (or summer, you never know in Fargo, N.D.) many people in Barney’s neighborhood discovered vole marks in their yards. One particular spring the voles had been very busy. On a fine Saturday Barney stood looking out his front window. The vantage point allowed him a clear view in to Doug, Soon-to-be-Voler’s backyard. Doug Soon-to-be-Voler was on his hands and knees, attempting to repair vole damage. Suddenly, he leapt up, grabbed a nearby rake, and began frantically beating at the lawn. Barney laughed, guessing that Doug’s quest to eradicate the vole damage had uncovered one of the little, rodent vandals. Because of Doug’s entertaining dance, he had been coined Doug Voler.
Finally, there were Joan and Barney’s neighbors to the back. Ann had been amused when her mother referred to the new neighbors as the Rolley-Polleys. Then she had been a little ashamed of herself for being amused. Mr. Rolley-Polley liked to mow the lawn without his shirt on. Soon after the Rolley-Polley’s moved in, Barney planted a row of fast-growing trees in their backyard on the property line between their house and the neighboring house.
Needless to say, Ann was not surprised that the new neighbors had been christened with a nickname. She wasn’t even surprised that the new neighbors nocturnal habits had lead to the Vampire moniker. Both her parents liked bad scary movies and her mom loved horror novels. Ann left one of the over-sized living room chairs to peek out the kitchen window at the Vampire house.
“They have a garden.”
Joan shrugged.
“I don’t think vampires would need a garden,” Ann was smiling. She knew her parents didn’t believe the neighbors were really vampires.
What would vampires do with a garden?
“They garden at night. The only time we’ve seen them out there is after dark.”
“Anything else?” Ann asked as she returned to the living room.
“No, they’ve only been here a few weeks. Dad talked to the them for a few minutes right after they moved in.”
“Hmmm. Was Dad also out doing some nocturnal gardening at the time?”
“He was putting out the garbage. He saw Mr. Vampire in the driveway so he went over to say ‘hi.’”
“Did he find out their actual name?”
“He didn’t remember it. It’s Karnak or Kardasian or something.”
“Kardasian? Like Kim Kardasian?”
“Who?”
“Nevermind.”
Joan shook her head. “What should we have for supper?”
Barney was working in the yard. Barney liked his yard. He had planted a garden in the back and he spent a lot of time gardening and doing lawn work in the summer and shoveling the driveway in the winter. The grass in Barney’s yard was thick and green and cut twice a week to a precise two-inch height. The lawn was his kingdom and he was the king.
Because Barney was so frequently in the lawn, he noticed when the Vampires began making some strange alterations to their yard. They removed the deck on the back of the house and boarded up the sliding door. They put a large padlock on the backdoor to the garage. And, strangest of all, one of their garden level window wells was filled in with dirt until none of the glass was visible. The vampires didn’t even reseed the filled-in window well with grass. The dirt was like a scar on an otherwise well-kept lawn. A dirty, grass-less, dirt scar. King Barney hated it.
“Dad won’t quit complaining about that window-well,” Joan said to Ann on the phone one evening. Joan looked out the window in the kitchen, the one that looked out on the Vampire house.
“They just filled it in with dirt?” Ann asked.
“Yes,” said Joan. “You have to admit, it is weird.”
“It is,” said Ann. “I’m sure there is a good reason. Maybe they converted that space in the basement into a media room. You don’t want windows in a media room.”
“Media rooms are really popular now,” admitted Joan. “You brother keeps saying that he is going to have one in his next house. Remember that house we looked at during the Parade of Homes? The one with the big media room in the basement?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“That was nice.”
Ann sighed. “Yes, it was.”
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Blogger Ethics
In Media class today we talked about media ethics. One of the points we tried to make was how changing technology brings up new ethical dilemmas. We discussed the Megan Meier suicide case (http://abcnews.go.com/TheLaw/story?id=7595756&page=1) and blogging. The internet makes it possible for amateur and unprofessional publishers to reach mass audiences. Suddenly, our own personal opinions and perspectives are available to mass audiences. I wonder how much impact our words have on the values and beliefs of others.
Yesterday David Lapakko brought up the website Rate Your Professor. It is possible to flame professors on this website. My feelings about websites like this are mixed. I have been known, in my time, to advise students to take or to avoid certain professors (mostly when I was TAing at NDSU). However, hearing my review of a professor in a one-on-one situation and reading a review of a professor on a website probably have two very different impacts. What is to stop people from writing horrible and false reviews of professors on these websites? What is to stop someone from writing a horrible and false account of anything on a blog? And how harmful could these comments be to individuals? Of course, I don't have any answer to any of these questions but the discussion surrounding these concepts has made me think more about my duty as a professor, a blogger, a communicator, and a citizen of this new technological world.
Yesterday David Lapakko brought up the website Rate Your Professor. It is possible to flame professors on this website. My feelings about websites like this are mixed. I have been known, in my time, to advise students to take or to avoid certain professors (mostly when I was TAing at NDSU). However, hearing my review of a professor in a one-on-one situation and reading a review of a professor on a website probably have two very different impacts. What is to stop people from writing horrible and false reviews of professors on these websites? What is to stop someone from writing a horrible and false account of anything on a blog? And how harmful could these comments be to individuals? Of course, I don't have any answer to any of these questions but the discussion surrounding these concepts has made me think more about my duty as a professor, a blogger, a communicator, and a citizen of this new technological world.
Blissful Ignorance
WOW. It has been a long time since I have blogged.
Mark and I were just IMing about finances. He told me he was giving me some information just so that I "was aware." I told him I didn't want to know, that I wanted to live in blissful ignorance. That is true. I do want to live in blissful ignorance about finances. Alas, it isn't possible.
Today in COM 120: Mass Media and Popular Culture, we somehow got on the topic of medicare and social security. I say "somehow" but what I really mean is that Wes declared to the class that they were going to be paying for his retirement. (Wes is my co-teacher for this class). But I digress (much like how I digressed in class when the following conversation happened). One of my students asked if it were true that they weren't going to have access to health care. Then another student asked if we thought that retirement wouldn't be something that their generation got to experience. I said that they would have the ability to retire if they started getting smart about their money now. Most of the students in this class are first-year students. I said they should start a savings account and even if they could only put in $5/month it would be something. As I type this I realize that I don't even do that. I am now resolved to starting a savings account with an automatic deposit this afternoon. I told the class that they didn't even have the luxury of ignorance that I had when I was their age. If I could go back in time and change some of the financial and life choices I made, I would certainly do so. However, there really is no use crying over things that can't be changed. All we can do is hope that we learn from past mistakes enough not to repeat them.
On another note, I'm thinking of starting to publish installments of a story that has been percolating in my head for some time here on Showering With Sharks. Is anyone out there that reads this blog interested in reading my story? (Shameless bid for affirmation and support).
Mark and I were just IMing about finances. He told me he was giving me some information just so that I "was aware." I told him I didn't want to know, that I wanted to live in blissful ignorance. That is true. I do want to live in blissful ignorance about finances. Alas, it isn't possible.
Today in COM 120: Mass Media and Popular Culture, we somehow got on the topic of medicare and social security. I say "somehow" but what I really mean is that Wes declared to the class that they were going to be paying for his retirement. (Wes is my co-teacher for this class). But I digress (much like how I digressed in class when the following conversation happened). One of my students asked if it were true that they weren't going to have access to health care. Then another student asked if we thought that retirement wouldn't be something that their generation got to experience. I said that they would have the ability to retire if they started getting smart about their money now. Most of the students in this class are first-year students. I said they should start a savings account and even if they could only put in $5/month it would be something. As I type this I realize that I don't even do that. I am now resolved to starting a savings account with an automatic deposit this afternoon. I told the class that they didn't even have the luxury of ignorance that I had when I was their age. If I could go back in time and change some of the financial and life choices I made, I would certainly do so. However, there really is no use crying over things that can't be changed. All we can do is hope that we learn from past mistakes enough not to repeat them.
On another note, I'm thinking of starting to publish installments of a story that has been percolating in my head for some time here on Showering With Sharks. Is anyone out there that reads this blog interested in reading my story? (Shameless bid for affirmation and support).
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Harper Chronicles: Chapter 7
Last night I was reading my "Caring for Your Young Child" book. Yes, I'm an academic. When I'm not sure exactly how to do something (like raise a child) I buy a book. As Harper is 4 months old today, I was reading the section on 4 to 7 month development. In the section on sleep in said that our 4-month-old should be skipping one feeding during the night, possibly sleeping through the night. I read it out loud. Harper is still getting up at least twice a night. After reading that section to Mark he said:
"I want our money back."
"I want our money back."
Monday, August 10, 2009
Harper Chronicles: Chapter 6
Harper is going to be baptized on Sunday. In preparation for the event, Mark and Harper and I attended Baptism 101 at church. I was a little nervous going into the class. Izzi, my goddaughter, was baptized when she was one month old. I was baptized at two months old. This is the extent of my experience with baptisms. Anyway, I was nervous that Harper was going to be the oldest baby at Baptism 101 and that all the other parents were going to think that Mark and I were unholy or something for putting it off until she is 4 months old. Happily, all the other babies at baptism class were almost the same age as Harper. There was one 4-week old there (with his parents, obviously). I told his mother I thought she was brave.
Personally, I was terrified of taking Harper out of the house until she was two months old. Part of this is because our pediatrician told us that she shouldn't be exposed to large crowds until she was 6-weeks to 2-months because of her still-developing immune system. The larger part, however, was that I was never sure how she was going to react to anything - especially in public. For the first two months of her life if she was awake and not eating she had to be moving. We either had to be bouncing her on the ball, bouncing her in her chair, or walking around with her. The chair and ball were difficult to transport to public places and all that walking gets exhausting. Hence, we didn't take her out much until she was about 10-weeks old.
We will be having mucho company for the baptism. My parents, Jared and Annie, and my gramma and grampa will be staying with us this weekend. Dan and Ang (Harper's godparents, along with Barb) and Izzi will be coming up and so will Kate and Nate and Steff. It's going to be a fun and busy weekend. It's a good thing my class finished last week so that I have time to clean my house this week. Now I'm just hoping that Harper behaves herself during the actual baptism. She likes bath-time, so I'm hopeful...
Personally, I was terrified of taking Harper out of the house until she was two months old. Part of this is because our pediatrician told us that she shouldn't be exposed to large crowds until she was 6-weeks to 2-months because of her still-developing immune system. The larger part, however, was that I was never sure how she was going to react to anything - especially in public. For the first two months of her life if she was awake and not eating she had to be moving. We either had to be bouncing her on the ball, bouncing her in her chair, or walking around with her. The chair and ball were difficult to transport to public places and all that walking gets exhausting. Hence, we didn't take her out much until she was about 10-weeks old.
We will be having mucho company for the baptism. My parents, Jared and Annie, and my gramma and grampa will be staying with us this weekend. Dan and Ang (Harper's godparents, along with Barb) and Izzi will be coming up and so will Kate and Nate and Steff. It's going to be a fun and busy weekend. It's a good thing my class finished last week so that I have time to clean my house this week. Now I'm just hoping that Harper behaves herself during the actual baptism. She likes bath-time, so I'm hopeful...
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Harper Chronicles: Chapter 5
Harper's New Trick
Harper rolled over last night for the first time. She rolled from her back to her front. I've read that it is more common for babies to roll from their fronts to their backs first, but this would be difficult for Harper to accomplish as she spends most of her time on her stomach screaming bloody murder. Harper hates "tummy time" and nothing I do can convince her that it is actually good for her to spend time that way.
Considering her hatred of tummy time, I have to admit I was a little surprised at how diligently she rolled onto her stomach, over and over, once she finally got it figure out last night. Here's how it goes: Harper starts on her back, then she pulls up her legs and rotates them to the side (either side) taking her upper body with her. Then, she turns and mashes her face into the floor. This maneuver gets her 3/4 of the way onto her front. Next she wiggles her legs and hips until she actually works her way onto her stomach. The process is almost complete. Finally, she has to work her arm (which wound up underneath her chest) free.
I was so excited when she did it!!! She looked excited too for about 10 seconds. She did her mini-pushup and kicked her legs. Then she realized that she somehow wound up on her tummy. Then she remembered that he hates to be on her tummy. Then she started screaming. Of course, I tried to soothe her for a few seconds, but she is inconsolable when on her tummy. So I rolled her onto her back. She immediately began the process all over again. I would say that she rolled over about 7 times total and she was mad every single time she finally wound up on her stomach. All I can do at this point is hope that she learns how to roll from stomach to back soon, or I'm going to have a really mad baby on my hands....
Oh! as I type this there she goes again!!!!
Harper rolled over last night for the first time. She rolled from her back to her front. I've read that it is more common for babies to roll from their fronts to their backs first, but this would be difficult for Harper to accomplish as she spends most of her time on her stomach screaming bloody murder. Harper hates "tummy time" and nothing I do can convince her that it is actually good for her to spend time that way.
Considering her hatred of tummy time, I have to admit I was a little surprised at how diligently she rolled onto her stomach, over and over, once she finally got it figure out last night. Here's how it goes: Harper starts on her back, then she pulls up her legs and rotates them to the side (either side) taking her upper body with her. Then, she turns and mashes her face into the floor. This maneuver gets her 3/4 of the way onto her front. Next she wiggles her legs and hips until she actually works her way onto her stomach. The process is almost complete. Finally, she has to work her arm (which wound up underneath her chest) free.
I was so excited when she did it!!! She looked excited too for about 10 seconds. She did her mini-pushup and kicked her legs. Then she realized that she somehow wound up on her tummy. Then she remembered that he hates to be on her tummy. Then she started screaming. Of course, I tried to soothe her for a few seconds, but she is inconsolable when on her tummy. So I rolled her onto her back. She immediately began the process all over again. I would say that she rolled over about 7 times total and she was mad every single time she finally wound up on her stomach. All I can do at this point is hope that she learns how to roll from stomach to back soon, or I'm going to have a really mad baby on my hands....
Oh! as I type this there she goes again!!!!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Harper Chronicles: Chapter 4
Mark: If I were you, I'd be taking Harper on a walk every morning.
Me: Yes, that's a good idea. I'll take her on one tomorrow.
Monday, 2 p.m. Kristen and Harper set out for the library. It is about a 10 minute walk.
Nice lady at the library while I am checking out my four books: Oh, what a sweet little lady!
Harper: Waaaaaaaaa!
Harper as we leave the library: Waaaaaaaaaa!
Harper as we turn on to Pennsylvania Ave: Waaaaaaaaaa, waaaaaaaaaa, waaaaaaaaa!
Harper as we walk past the golf course: Waa, waa, waa, waa, waa, waa!
Harper as we turn onto Kelly Drive: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Harper as we turn into our driveway: sigh.
Harper as we go into the house: Waa aaa aaa aaa.
Me as I take Harper out of her carrier: pant, pant, pant (with sweat dripping)
Thanks Daddy. That walk was a good idea.
Me: Yes, that's a good idea. I'll take her on one tomorrow.
Monday, 2 p.m. Kristen and Harper set out for the library. It is about a 10 minute walk.
Nice lady at the library while I am checking out my four books: Oh, what a sweet little lady!
Harper: Waaaaaaaaa!
Harper as we leave the library: Waaaaaaaaaa!
Harper as we turn on to Pennsylvania Ave: Waaaaaaaaaa, waaaaaaaaaa, waaaaaaaaa!
Harper as we walk past the golf course: Waa, waa, waa, waa, waa, waa!
Harper as we turn onto Kelly Drive: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Harper as we turn into our driveway: sigh.
Harper as we go into the house: Waa aaa aaa aaa.
Me as I take Harper out of her carrier: pant, pant, pant (with sweat dripping)
Thanks Daddy. That walk was a good idea.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
A Pro Sex, Pro Life, Pro Gay Marriage Woman
I like Meghan McCain. I just watched her on the Colbert Report. She defined herself as Pro Sex, Pro Life and Pro Gay Marriage. And she said some very intelligent things about the Republican Party.
http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/228068/may-18-2009/meghan-mccain
You may remember that I was involved in the RNC this past August as an instructor for the Washington Center. I learned a lot about the Republican Party and about politics during those two weeks. It was a great experience, even if there were moments where I wanted to tear out my hair and gouge out my eyes (during Rudy Guiliani's speech). Anyway, I think Meghan McCain has great ideas about the future of the Republic Party (not that I'm going to join it, or anything). On the other side, the new emphasis the Republican Party is putting on Ronald Reagan as the future of the Party is slightly ridiculous.
http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=228016&title=republicans-look-forwardjames
http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/228068/may-18-2009/meghan-mccain
You may remember that I was involved in the RNC this past August as an instructor for the Washington Center. I learned a lot about the Republican Party and about politics during those two weeks. It was a great experience, even if there were moments where I wanted to tear out my hair and gouge out my eyes (during Rudy Guiliani's speech). Anyway, I think Meghan McCain has great ideas about the future of the Republic Party (not that I'm going to join it, or anything). On the other side, the new emphasis the Republican Party is putting on Ronald Reagan as the future of the Party is slightly ridiculous.
http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=228016&title=republicans-look-forwardjames
Dick Cheney Scares Me
Dick Cheney scares me. Not just his policies or his worldview (although those are plenty scary)... the physical reality of Dick Cheney. He looks like one of the Gentlemen on Buffy. Judge for yourself.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Harper Chronicles: Pictures
Here is a link to Mark's website. This is where most of Harper's pics get posted. I intend to post some pics here in my blog, but the galleries are always viewable here:
http://www.mchamberlain.us/harper.html
http://www.mchamberlain.us/harper.html
Harper Chronicles: Chapter 3
The Play Gym.
Harper loves her playgym. It is a rainforest themed gym with a striped tiger and two butterflies hanging from it. The tiger has a ball. When you hit the ball it rotates and makes sounds. It has been really fun to watch Harper become better and better at hitting that ball. She likes to lay in her play gym and stare at the tiger. Eventually, she becomes really excited about the tiger and sends her fist flying toward the ball. Sometimes she puts her hands up and makes grabbing motions at the tiger and at the butterflies. She hasn't succeeding in grabbing anything yet, but she sure likes to try. Personally, I think her lack of success with the grabbing is frustrating for her. After several grabbing tries she inevitable becomes whiny. I think she can't quite figure out why the grabbing isn't working. Mark and I have taken several videos of her in the play gym. I will post links to these videos soon in a future blog.
Harper loves her playgym. It is a rainforest themed gym with a striped tiger and two butterflies hanging from it. The tiger has a ball. When you hit the ball it rotates and makes sounds. It has been really fun to watch Harper become better and better at hitting that ball. She likes to lay in her play gym and stare at the tiger. Eventually, she becomes really excited about the tiger and sends her fist flying toward the ball. Sometimes she puts her hands up and makes grabbing motions at the tiger and at the butterflies. She hasn't succeeding in grabbing anything yet, but she sure likes to try. Personally, I think her lack of success with the grabbing is frustrating for her. After several grabbing tries she inevitable becomes whiny. I think she can't quite figure out why the grabbing isn't working. Mark and I have taken several videos of her in the play gym. I will post links to these videos soon in a future blog.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Harper Chronicles: Chapter 2
I will title this chapter "I never knew I'd become so blase about poo."
Early on in my pregnancy I had a conversation (a very humorous conversation) with Bob Groven about how, as a parent, you are subjected to a variety of disgusting experiences with your child's bodily functions. Well, Harper is only 4 weeks old and Mark and I have already had the pleasure of some of these experiences. But, what really amazes me, is that--like my mom always assured me--when it's your kid, it's not that bad. And, in fact, sometimes it's kinda funny.
1. Stealth pee. Harper stealth pees. I always knew that you had to be careful when changing little boy diapers because of pee issues. I did not think this would be an issue with a girl. However, there have been several times when I (or Mark) have pulled off Harper's diaper only to be treated to a soaking wet changing pad when I attempt to replace said diaper. I don't know how she does it but we spend a lot of time washing changing pads. The best is when the stealth pee actually soaks not only the pad but the back of whatever she is wearing that day. Then I get to move her, change the pad and undress and redress her. It's awesome.
2. Number 2. Of course, diaper blowouts are a fact of life. Last weekend Mark and I went to visit my parents. At our house, we have a swing that Harper likes to sit in. My mom doesn't have anything like that so she purchased a little vibrating chair for Harper's visit. This chair is very similar to the chair my friend Ang had for her daughter Isabelle. Ang and her husband Dan referred to this chair as the poop chair because everytime Izzi sat in it she pooped. Kinda funny. Anyway, Harper christened her brand new chair as the new poop chair on Friday morning and she christened it in spectacular fashion. She blew out a diaper to such an extreme state that she actually leaked through her sleeper and onto the vibrating chair in two places. It was very impressive. Mark and I joked that it now truly was the "poop chair."
3. Does my child belong in the Exorcist? Harper doesn't actually spit up that often but when she does it is impressive. It's most impressive if she is laying down at the time. One day she projectile spit up to a height of at least 3 inches.
Early on in my pregnancy I had a conversation (a very humorous conversation) with Bob Groven about how, as a parent, you are subjected to a variety of disgusting experiences with your child's bodily functions. Well, Harper is only 4 weeks old and Mark and I have already had the pleasure of some of these experiences. But, what really amazes me, is that--like my mom always assured me--when it's your kid, it's not that bad. And, in fact, sometimes it's kinda funny.
1. Stealth pee. Harper stealth pees. I always knew that you had to be careful when changing little boy diapers because of pee issues. I did not think this would be an issue with a girl. However, there have been several times when I (or Mark) have pulled off Harper's diaper only to be treated to a soaking wet changing pad when I attempt to replace said diaper. I don't know how she does it but we spend a lot of time washing changing pads. The best is when the stealth pee actually soaks not only the pad but the back of whatever she is wearing that day. Then I get to move her, change the pad and undress and redress her. It's awesome.
2. Number 2. Of course, diaper blowouts are a fact of life. Last weekend Mark and I went to visit my parents. At our house, we have a swing that Harper likes to sit in. My mom doesn't have anything like that so she purchased a little vibrating chair for Harper's visit. This chair is very similar to the chair my friend Ang had for her daughter Isabelle. Ang and her husband Dan referred to this chair as the poop chair because everytime Izzi sat in it she pooped. Kinda funny. Anyway, Harper christened her brand new chair as the new poop chair on Friday morning and she christened it in spectacular fashion. She blew out a diaper to such an extreme state that she actually leaked through her sleeper and onto the vibrating chair in two places. It was very impressive. Mark and I joked that it now truly was the "poop chair."
3. Does my child belong in the Exorcist? Harper doesn't actually spit up that often but when she does it is impressive. It's most impressive if she is laying down at the time. One day she projectile spit up to a height of at least 3 inches.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Harper Chronicles: Chapter 1
On April 3, my due date, I happily left campus after watching a presentation in my small group communication class fully expecting that I was going to have a baby any moment. WRONG.
On Tuesday, April 7, I show up for my scheduled (or so I thought) post-due-date OB appointment. My appointment was scheduled (so I thought) for 4:45. I checked in, informing the front desk that I had an appointment with my regular doctor.
"Oh, he's not here today. Who else do you see?"
I told her the name of my NP.
"Hmmm. What is your name?"
Long story short, the appointment wasn't ACTUALLY scheduled. Apparently, someone from the clinic is supposed to call to see if the pregnant woman actually needs the appointment. As the appointment was on the print-out of future appointments I had been given, I just assumed that meant it was scheduled. Anyway, they got me in to see another doctor and we decided to schedule an induction for Friday, April 10th if I hadn't already gone into labor on my own.
Of course, I fully expected to go into labor on my own at any moment. I didn't.
When the doctor scheduled the induction, she told me the hospital would call sometime between 5:30 a.m. and 8:00 a.m. to give me a time to come in sometime after 7:00 a.m. The phone rang at 4:45 a.m. and the nurse asked if I could be in at 6:00 a.m. I said I could, even though I had NO idea what time it was when she called. If it really would have been 5:30 a.m. we would have had to break ever land speed record to get there on time, but it was 4:45 so we had plenty of time.
After many hours of labor, pitocin, morphine, narcotics and an epidural, Harper Jane Chamberlain was born at 10:35 a.m. on April 11. She weighed 8 lbs 7 oz (over a pound heavier than what the doctors thought) and was almost 22 inches long. Yeah. She was a big baby. We didn't actually name her until the next day.
It was exhausting. But worth it.
On Tuesday, April 7, I show up for my scheduled (or so I thought) post-due-date OB appointment. My appointment was scheduled (so I thought) for 4:45. I checked in, informing the front desk that I had an appointment with my regular doctor.
"Oh, he's not here today. Who else do you see?"
I told her the name of my NP.
"Hmmm. What is your name?"
Long story short, the appointment wasn't ACTUALLY scheduled. Apparently, someone from the clinic is supposed to call to see if the pregnant woman actually needs the appointment. As the appointment was on the print-out of future appointments I had been given, I just assumed that meant it was scheduled. Anyway, they got me in to see another doctor and we decided to schedule an induction for Friday, April 10th if I hadn't already gone into labor on my own.
Of course, I fully expected to go into labor on my own at any moment. I didn't.
When the doctor scheduled the induction, she told me the hospital would call sometime between 5:30 a.m. and 8:00 a.m. to give me a time to come in sometime after 7:00 a.m. The phone rang at 4:45 a.m. and the nurse asked if I could be in at 6:00 a.m. I said I could, even though I had NO idea what time it was when she called. If it really would have been 5:30 a.m. we would have had to break ever land speed record to get there on time, but it was 4:45 so we had plenty of time.
After many hours of labor, pitocin, morphine, narcotics and an epidural, Harper Jane Chamberlain was born at 10:35 a.m. on April 11. She weighed 8 lbs 7 oz (over a pound heavier than what the doctors thought) and was almost 22 inches long. Yeah. She was a big baby. We didn't actually name her until the next day.
It was exhausting. But worth it.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
No Use Crying Over Spilt Coffee
I had a mini-tragedy on the way to school this morning, but it is so nice and sunny outside (after two days of gloomy snow) that I can't even care!
Yesterday was an icky day. I could not like it, nor could I be happy. I drove to school in snow. It was dark all day. And cold. TODAY, however, is a different story. Even though the high will still be below average temps for this time of year, it's going to be warmer than yesterday... and did I mention the beautiful SUNSHINE!
Anyway, the mini-tragedy... Since it was so lovely out, and since I'm cutting out processed sugar AND caffeine after the baby is born, I decided I better indulge myself this morning with a coffeecake and coffee from Einstein Bros. Bagels. Well, on the way to school on 394, I got a little distracted by rocking out to Roxette on my ipod and I accidentally spilled some of my delicious vanilla hazelnut coffee in the car. The good news is that most of it went on the floor. I didn't spill too much because I had the lid on. I did spill a small amount on my pants, but, fortunately, I am wearing dark jeans and when I checked in the mirror when I got to school, you can't even see where the coffee hit. Most importantly, there was still a lot of coffee left for me to enjoy once I got to school and was prudently out of the car. The coffeecake was delicious and now I'm gearing up to do some work. I'm going to show an episode of a TV show in interpersonal today, but I have to check to see which one I want to show. Then, tomorrow is my last day at school before I begin twiddling my thumbs and waiting for labor to begin at home (instead of twiddling my thumbs and waiting for labor to begin while at school).
Yesterday was an icky day. I could not like it, nor could I be happy. I drove to school in snow. It was dark all day. And cold. TODAY, however, is a different story. Even though the high will still be below average temps for this time of year, it's going to be warmer than yesterday... and did I mention the beautiful SUNSHINE!
Anyway, the mini-tragedy... Since it was so lovely out, and since I'm cutting out processed sugar AND caffeine after the baby is born, I decided I better indulge myself this morning with a coffeecake and coffee from Einstein Bros. Bagels. Well, on the way to school on 394, I got a little distracted by rocking out to Roxette on my ipod and I accidentally spilled some of my delicious vanilla hazelnut coffee in the car. The good news is that most of it went on the floor. I didn't spill too much because I had the lid on. I did spill a small amount on my pants, but, fortunately, I am wearing dark jeans and when I checked in the mirror when I got to school, you can't even see where the coffee hit. Most importantly, there was still a lot of coffee left for me to enjoy once I got to school and was prudently out of the car. The coffeecake was delicious and now I'm gearing up to do some work. I'm going to show an episode of a TV show in interpersonal today, but I have to check to see which one I want to show. Then, tomorrow is my last day at school before I begin twiddling my thumbs and waiting for labor to begin at home (instead of twiddling my thumbs and waiting for labor to begin while at school).
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Everything At Once
Over the past week it has seemed as though the universe is conspiring to overwhelm us with major events.
First, the flood in Fargo. My parents, Mark's parents, my brother and his wife, and several of our friends live in Fargo. When the water started rising, Mark and I were in contact with our parents every day to see how things were progressing. Well, last week, on Wednesday, Mark could tell that his parents were getting pretty stressed. They live very near the river and Charley, Mark's dad, had been working himself ragged on the dikes protecting their neighborhood from the water. Later Wednesday night, Mark was talking with his brother Dave (who lives here in the Cities). Dave had decided to leave that night to go to Fargo to help with the sandbagging. After Mark got off the phone with him I could tell he was really torn. Yes, I am currently 9 months pregnant (due Friday, April 3) and I know Mark didn't want to leave me alone. At the same time, I know that not being in Fargo to help his folks was really getting to him. So, I told him he should go with Dave. After debating internally for a few minutes, and asking me repeatedly if I'd be OK, he decided to call Dave back and tell him that he would be going, too. Everyone felt pretty good about this decision because at this point it was after 9 p.m. and neither I, nor Barb (Dave's wife), nor Mark, nor Mark's parents wanted Dave driving to Fargo by himself in the middle of the night. So, Dave picked up Mark and they hit the road about 11 p.m. I made Mark promise to text me as soon as he and Dave go to Fargo, even thought he'd be waking me up in the middle of the night. They got to Fargo around 3 a.m., which, while longer than the drive typically takes, wasn't as bad as Mark feared.
After Mark left I started getting ready for bed. I thought to myself as I was climbing into bed that the one good thing about Mark going to Fargo was that at least I would have plenty of room in the bed that night for me and the pets. Typically, when we go to bed at night, there is Mark - my 180-pound, 6 ft 1 husband, Quinn - the 25-pound sheltie-eskimo, Millie - the 10-pound papillon, me - not going to reveal my current weight, my stomach, and my body pillow. Eventually, we are usually joined by one or both of our 12-pound cats. So, Millie and I got into bed and got situated and I waited expectantly for the influx of other pets... And... it never came. At about 12:30 I got up to use the little-pregnant-woman's room and the sight that greeted me was: Quinn sleeping on the blue recliner in the living room, Ziggy sleeping in Millie's dog bed, and Fat China sleeping on a chair in the dining room. That's right. I had practically the entire bed to myself and NONE of the pets wanted to sleep with me. I think Millie was only in the bed because it is too tall for her to jump off. I'm fairly certain that Quinn was sleeping in the blue chair because he was waiting for Mark to come back. By the time Mark texted me at 3 a.m., however, everything was back to normal and I was sandwiched between two dogs, the body pillow and a cat.
The good news is that while Mark was gone I did NOT go into labor. Mark and his family spent three days sandbagging, dike patrolling, and emptying his parents basement just-in-case. At the same time, my 30th birthday approached and I proceeded to get more and more pregnant and uncomfortable. On Saturday Mark and Dave decided to come back to Minneapolis so and I was so happy that Mark was back in time for my birthday on Sunday.
As for my various birthday celebrations: I got taken out for delicious Thai food by my lovely friend Kristen who was visiting Minnesota with her adorable son Finn on Wednesday. On Friday, Barb took me out to McCoy's Public House for a delicious dinner and then we bought a new case, car-charger, and blue tooth headset for my new smart phone (birthday present from Mark). Saturday night after Mark got home we decided to go to McCoy's again (because I think Mark was sad he didn't get to eat there the night before). This was wonderful because I really wanted to eat the baked macaroni and cheese, which is NOT the dish I ordered the night before. Sunday morning, the day of my actual birthday, I started the day with a call from my BFF Ang and her daughter Isabelle. Isabelle was supposed to sing me Happy Birthday (she's almost 2) but then she got a little shy on the phone and would only sing me little parts of the song. I decided I wanted breakfast, so Mark and I went to the Good Day Cafe for breakfast. I had 49er Flapjacks, which are AMAZINGLY delicious. That evening, Mark and I went to Dave and Barb's for pizza and Dairy Queen cake. We also played a little Mario Kart. All in all, it was an excellent day.
Meanwhile, back in Fargo, the Red River crested but Mother Nature was not done yet. Yesterday, Fargo was hit with a blizzard that is currently in the process of dumping somewhere around 12 inches of snow on the Red River Valley. We are also supposed to get nasty weather here. In fact, I drove to school this morning in a weird combo of rain/snow. This afternoon I have to brave the wet roads for a haircut appointment and a doctor's appointment. Of course, I didn't know the weather would be so crappy when I made these appointments, but I can't reschedule because, let's not forget that I am due Friday but could really deliver at any moment. If I don't get my hair cut today I might not have the chance for another 5 - 6 weeks and by that time I promise I would look really really funny.
So, that has been my crazy week. As for the baby, Mark is convinced that she will be hear either before or on her due date, which gives her another 3 days to make her appearance. I'm hoping his prediction is correct. I am very excited and ready to move from the pregnant stage to the mom stage. Last night Mark installed the car seat into the back seat of the car. It was a little weird to see it in there this morning when I went to work, but is just one more indication that by this time next week (please, please, please) we will have a new addition to our family... and I will not be suffering sore hips or painful kicks to the ribs, side, colon or pelvis... like I am at this very moment... ouch.
First, the flood in Fargo. My parents, Mark's parents, my brother and his wife, and several of our friends live in Fargo. When the water started rising, Mark and I were in contact with our parents every day to see how things were progressing. Well, last week, on Wednesday, Mark could tell that his parents were getting pretty stressed. They live very near the river and Charley, Mark's dad, had been working himself ragged on the dikes protecting their neighborhood from the water. Later Wednesday night, Mark was talking with his brother Dave (who lives here in the Cities). Dave had decided to leave that night to go to Fargo to help with the sandbagging. After Mark got off the phone with him I could tell he was really torn. Yes, I am currently 9 months pregnant (due Friday, April 3) and I know Mark didn't want to leave me alone. At the same time, I know that not being in Fargo to help his folks was really getting to him. So, I told him he should go with Dave. After debating internally for a few minutes, and asking me repeatedly if I'd be OK, he decided to call Dave back and tell him that he would be going, too. Everyone felt pretty good about this decision because at this point it was after 9 p.m. and neither I, nor Barb (Dave's wife), nor Mark, nor Mark's parents wanted Dave driving to Fargo by himself in the middle of the night. So, Dave picked up Mark and they hit the road about 11 p.m. I made Mark promise to text me as soon as he and Dave go to Fargo, even thought he'd be waking me up in the middle of the night. They got to Fargo around 3 a.m., which, while longer than the drive typically takes, wasn't as bad as Mark feared.
After Mark left I started getting ready for bed. I thought to myself as I was climbing into bed that the one good thing about Mark going to Fargo was that at least I would have plenty of room in the bed that night for me and the pets. Typically, when we go to bed at night, there is Mark - my 180-pound, 6 ft 1 husband, Quinn - the 25-pound sheltie-eskimo, Millie - the 10-pound papillon, me - not going to reveal my current weight, my stomach, and my body pillow. Eventually, we are usually joined by one or both of our 12-pound cats. So, Millie and I got into bed and got situated and I waited expectantly for the influx of other pets... And... it never came. At about 12:30 I got up to use the little-pregnant-woman's room and the sight that greeted me was: Quinn sleeping on the blue recliner in the living room, Ziggy sleeping in Millie's dog bed, and Fat China sleeping on a chair in the dining room. That's right. I had practically the entire bed to myself and NONE of the pets wanted to sleep with me. I think Millie was only in the bed because it is too tall for her to jump off. I'm fairly certain that Quinn was sleeping in the blue chair because he was waiting for Mark to come back. By the time Mark texted me at 3 a.m., however, everything was back to normal and I was sandwiched between two dogs, the body pillow and a cat.
The good news is that while Mark was gone I did NOT go into labor. Mark and his family spent three days sandbagging, dike patrolling, and emptying his parents basement just-in-case. At the same time, my 30th birthday approached and I proceeded to get more and more pregnant and uncomfortable. On Saturday Mark and Dave decided to come back to Minneapolis so and I was so happy that Mark was back in time for my birthday on Sunday.
As for my various birthday celebrations: I got taken out for delicious Thai food by my lovely friend Kristen who was visiting Minnesota with her adorable son Finn on Wednesday. On Friday, Barb took me out to McCoy's Public House for a delicious dinner and then we bought a new case, car-charger, and blue tooth headset for my new smart phone (birthday present from Mark). Saturday night after Mark got home we decided to go to McCoy's again (because I think Mark was sad he didn't get to eat there the night before). This was wonderful because I really wanted to eat the baked macaroni and cheese, which is NOT the dish I ordered the night before. Sunday morning, the day of my actual birthday, I started the day with a call from my BFF Ang and her daughter Isabelle. Isabelle was supposed to sing me Happy Birthday (she's almost 2) but then she got a little shy on the phone and would only sing me little parts of the song. I decided I wanted breakfast, so Mark and I went to the Good Day Cafe for breakfast. I had 49er Flapjacks, which are AMAZINGLY delicious. That evening, Mark and I went to Dave and Barb's for pizza and Dairy Queen cake. We also played a little Mario Kart. All in all, it was an excellent day.
Meanwhile, back in Fargo, the Red River crested but Mother Nature was not done yet. Yesterday, Fargo was hit with a blizzard that is currently in the process of dumping somewhere around 12 inches of snow on the Red River Valley. We are also supposed to get nasty weather here. In fact, I drove to school this morning in a weird combo of rain/snow. This afternoon I have to brave the wet roads for a haircut appointment and a doctor's appointment. Of course, I didn't know the weather would be so crappy when I made these appointments, but I can't reschedule because, let's not forget that I am due Friday but could really deliver at any moment. If I don't get my hair cut today I might not have the chance for another 5 - 6 weeks and by that time I promise I would look really really funny.
So, that has been my crazy week. As for the baby, Mark is convinced that she will be hear either before or on her due date, which gives her another 3 days to make her appearance. I'm hoping his prediction is correct. I am very excited and ready to move from the pregnant stage to the mom stage. Last night Mark installed the car seat into the back seat of the car. It was a little weird to see it in there this morning when I went to work, but is just one more indication that by this time next week (please, please, please) we will have a new addition to our family... and I will not be suffering sore hips or painful kicks to the ribs, side, colon or pelvis... like I am at this very moment... ouch.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Cool Things About Being Pregnant
Ok, so I was talking with my mom on the phone last night and she gave me a little grief for being so down on pregnancy in my blog. Truly, pregnancy is like a roller coaster, and I'm sure most other pregnant women would agree that there are some great things that happen that make up for the uncomfortable things. So, here is a list of cool things about being pregnant.
1. You wind up with a baby. That is pretty freakin' neat.
2. Besides the baby, you also get lots of cool baby gear.
3. Feeling the baby move is, in general, pretty awesome.
4. Seeing the baby on ultrasound - especially the first time, is amazing.
5. Your family gets really excited about the baby. This is really fun.
6. You get to embrace weight gain - Not ridiculous unchecked weight gain, 'cause that isn't healthy. But it is nice to put aside your scale worries for a few months.
7. You have an actual biological reason to act mental. Pregnancy insanity is an actual condition. Look it up.
8. You get a magical pass into the club of women who have been/are currently pregnant. Bonding over pregnancy stories, while it may sound weird and too girly, is a great way to connect with other women.
9. The fact that your body can change to accommodate a growing baby is a biological wonder. Yeah, an uncomfortable and weird biological wonder, but a wonder nonetheless.
10. Did I mention that when it is all over you get a baby? Pretty freakin' neat.
1. You wind up with a baby. That is pretty freakin' neat.
2. Besides the baby, you also get lots of cool baby gear.
3. Feeling the baby move is, in general, pretty awesome.
4. Seeing the baby on ultrasound - especially the first time, is amazing.
5. Your family gets really excited about the baby. This is really fun.
6. You get to embrace weight gain - Not ridiculous unchecked weight gain, 'cause that isn't healthy. But it is nice to put aside your scale worries for a few months.
7. You have an actual biological reason to act mental. Pregnancy insanity is an actual condition. Look it up.
8. You get a magical pass into the club of women who have been/are currently pregnant. Bonding over pregnancy stories, while it may sound weird and too girly, is a great way to connect with other women.
9. The fact that your body can change to accommodate a growing baby is a biological wonder. Yeah, an uncomfortable and weird biological wonder, but a wonder nonetheless.
10. Did I mention that when it is all over you get a baby? Pretty freakin' neat.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Things I Will Not Miss About Being Pregnant
1. Heartburn - I am not joking, I have had heartburn almost every day since I got pregnant last summer.
2. Hip pain - this makes both sleeping and moving uncomfortable
3. Night trips to the bathroom
4. Only being able to wear 4 pairs of pants
5. Not being able to wear shoes that tie
6. Pregnancy-induced hotflashes
7. Carrying around 25 extra pounds - this is really exhausting and makes climbing stairs a trial
8. Not being able to pick up or carrying "heavy" things
9. Not being able to eat soft cheese
10. Not being able to eat sushi
2. Hip pain - this makes both sleeping and moving uncomfortable
3. Night trips to the bathroom
4. Only being able to wear 4 pairs of pants
5. Not being able to wear shoes that tie
6. Pregnancy-induced hotflashes
7. Carrying around 25 extra pounds - this is really exhausting and makes climbing stairs a trial
8. Not being able to pick up or carrying "heavy" things
9. Not being able to eat soft cheese
10. Not being able to eat sushi
Friday, March 13, 2009
Regular? China
My husband and I have four pets. We got our first pet, a cat, in March 2001. She's a gray tortoiseshell with a cute little tan strip up her face between her eyes. She was a really adorable kitten that grew up in to a totally psychotic cat. We got our second kitten, Ziggy, a few months later because China was lonely. Ziggy is also gray, but his coat is all one color. His gray fur is very dark and he has a perpetually worried expression on his face. In April 2003 we got our first puppy, a nine-month-old papillon that we bought from a breeder in Nebraska. Her full, AKC registered name is Merric's One in a Million - Millie for short. Today, Millie is a little chubby and a little neurotic. There was a span of a few months about a year and half ago when Millie got scared of her waterdish and would only drink out of coffee mugs. Mark and I thought maybe she wasn't getting enough attention from the cats, so we decided to get her a puppy friend. We didn't act upon the impulse to get the new puppy right away. In fact, Quinn, our fourth pet/second puppy, came into our lives sort of by accident when Mark found himself holding the little sheltie/eskimo cross puppy at a pet store in Fargo (yes, I know all about how you shouldn't by puppies from petstores. It wasn't my idea to be there in the first place, but Quinn was so cute when he fell asleep in Mark's hands that we were totally lost).
Anyway, that is the story of how we wound up with four pets. But today I am going to write about our first pet, China. As I said earlier, she grew up into a psycho cat. Once she knocked my Dad's glasses right off is face when he tried to pet her. She is widely known among our circle of friends as being totally cranky and nuts. All her meows sound the same: her happy meow, her sad meow, her hungry meow, her cranky meow, her psycho meow... well, they all sound psycho. In her defense, however, she has mellowed a litle with time and especially since we've moved into our new house. She appears to like it here.
China not only grew up psycho, she also grew up fat. For much of her life, she has looked like a football on legs with a tiny head. In fact, she is so chubby that we actually sort of renamed her Fat China. About a month ago, we decided to move her food into the basement because feeding the kitties upstairs was taking up too much counter space (they have to eat from an elevated position because if we fed them on the floor the dogs would eat their food). This morning I noticed that Fat China wasn't nearly as fat as she used to be. Apparently, forcing Fat China to go up and down the stairs into the basement several times a day to eat is having a miraculous impact on her waistline. Granted, she still is round around the middle, but not nearly as much as she used to be. So, now we are faced with the dilemma: Is it still right to call her Fat China if she is not nearly as fat? Do we call her Regular China or Not-As-Fat China? Some may say, just go back to calling her China, but she has evolved from being plain old China. She is something beyond what she used to be and I'm not sure if she can go back to being Plain Ol' China.
Anyway, that is the story of how we wound up with four pets. But today I am going to write about our first pet, China. As I said earlier, she grew up into a psycho cat. Once she knocked my Dad's glasses right off is face when he tried to pet her. She is widely known among our circle of friends as being totally cranky and nuts. All her meows sound the same: her happy meow, her sad meow, her hungry meow, her cranky meow, her psycho meow... well, they all sound psycho. In her defense, however, she has mellowed a litle with time and especially since we've moved into our new house. She appears to like it here.
China not only grew up psycho, she also grew up fat. For much of her life, she has looked like a football on legs with a tiny head. In fact, she is so chubby that we actually sort of renamed her Fat China. About a month ago, we decided to move her food into the basement because feeding the kitties upstairs was taking up too much counter space (they have to eat from an elevated position because if we fed them on the floor the dogs would eat their food). This morning I noticed that Fat China wasn't nearly as fat as she used to be. Apparently, forcing Fat China to go up and down the stairs into the basement several times a day to eat is having a miraculous impact on her waistline. Granted, she still is round around the middle, but not nearly as much as she used to be. So, now we are faced with the dilemma: Is it still right to call her Fat China if she is not nearly as fat? Do we call her Regular China or Not-As-Fat China? Some may say, just go back to calling her China, but she has evolved from being plain old China. She is something beyond what she used to be and I'm not sure if she can go back to being Plain Ol' China.
Monday, March 9, 2009
All Kinds of Milestones
So, I have two pretty big milestones coming up in the next month. First, of course, is the birth of our first child, due April 3. Second, and only slightly less meaningful, is my 30th birthday.
As you might have guessed, my birthday has been a bit lost among all the baby excitement. In fact, this might be the first year that I've been counting down to something in March that is NOT my birthday. Ask anyone in my family - I make a big deal out of my birthday and I don't usually let people forget that it is approaching. These reminders typically take the form of a question, ala, guess what is happening in 20 days... MY BIRTHDAY!!! And, I celebrate all month.
Anyway, this year my birthday is a little over shadowed by the upcoming birthday of our daughter (at least, I hope it is a daughter. I am currently suffering from the suggestion that she will be born on April 1st and will come out a boy instead of a girl. Normally, this wouldn't traumatize me, but I keep thinking about all the cute little girl clothes I have de-tagged and washed in preparation for her arrival). Last night was the first time I'd even thought about my birthday in several days. My husband was actually the person who brought up my birthday in a very random and tactless way by declaring, apropo of nothing, "You're going to be 30." I responded, "Yeah, thanks for that." So, I asked him what he was going to get me for my birthday - something I typically would have asked him about 100 times by March 9th in any other year. He joked about buying me Guitar Hero 2 or photography equipment (see, it's funny because those are really things that HE wants). I don't really know what I want for my birthday besides a new cell phone. So, if anyone has any good gift ideas for me, let me know...
As for the pregnancy, I'm currently sitting at 3 weeks and 4 days until my due date. Although, I was recently discussing the ridiculousness of the due date with a colleague. I learned in my preparing for childbirth class that only about 4% of all women actually delivery on their due date. So, planning your life around a "due date" is actually a little ridiculous. I've been trying to get my work life together in preparation for being gone. I'm planning to play the statistics (which claim that first-time moms are usually "late" - although, we've already discussed the ridiculousness of the due date) and will be working until April 3. But, just in case the baby makes an early arrival, I'm trying to get my last two weeks of work all sorted out so that someone can take over. Of course, I wouldn't mind if she came early. I'm getting sick of sore hips and having to pee all the time. Last night I was fidgeting around trying to get comfortable in bed (like I do every night) and was talking with Mark at the same time. As I'm rolling around trying to figure out a good position, Mark all of a sudden declares "I can NOT get comfortable." I stopped rolling around in disbelief, then said "Oh, you POOR THING." Apparently, Mark's hips were also a little sore last night because he had been home-improvement-ing.
So, the moral of this whole story is that Mark was ridiculous last night. But we had some good laughs out of it. I'm going to apologize for how disjointed this blog is. I actually wrote bits and pieces of it over the course of an entire afternoon. Now I'm really ready to go home.
As you might have guessed, my birthday has been a bit lost among all the baby excitement. In fact, this might be the first year that I've been counting down to something in March that is NOT my birthday. Ask anyone in my family - I make a big deal out of my birthday and I don't usually let people forget that it is approaching. These reminders typically take the form of a question, ala, guess what is happening in 20 days... MY BIRTHDAY!!! And, I celebrate all month.
Anyway, this year my birthday is a little over shadowed by the upcoming birthday of our daughter (at least, I hope it is a daughter. I am currently suffering from the suggestion that she will be born on April 1st and will come out a boy instead of a girl. Normally, this wouldn't traumatize me, but I keep thinking about all the cute little girl clothes I have de-tagged and washed in preparation for her arrival). Last night was the first time I'd even thought about my birthday in several days. My husband was actually the person who brought up my birthday in a very random and tactless way by declaring, apropo of nothing, "You're going to be 30." I responded, "Yeah, thanks for that." So, I asked him what he was going to get me for my birthday - something I typically would have asked him about 100 times by March 9th in any other year. He joked about buying me Guitar Hero 2 or photography equipment (see, it's funny because those are really things that HE wants). I don't really know what I want for my birthday besides a new cell phone. So, if anyone has any good gift ideas for me, let me know...
As for the pregnancy, I'm currently sitting at 3 weeks and 4 days until my due date. Although, I was recently discussing the ridiculousness of the due date with a colleague. I learned in my preparing for childbirth class that only about 4% of all women actually delivery on their due date. So, planning your life around a "due date" is actually a little ridiculous. I've been trying to get my work life together in preparation for being gone. I'm planning to play the statistics (which claim that first-time moms are usually "late" - although, we've already discussed the ridiculousness of the due date) and will be working until April 3. But, just in case the baby makes an early arrival, I'm trying to get my last two weeks of work all sorted out so that someone can take over. Of course, I wouldn't mind if she came early. I'm getting sick of sore hips and having to pee all the time. Last night I was fidgeting around trying to get comfortable in bed (like I do every night) and was talking with Mark at the same time. As I'm rolling around trying to figure out a good position, Mark all of a sudden declares "I can NOT get comfortable." I stopped rolling around in disbelief, then said "Oh, you POOR THING." Apparently, Mark's hips were also a little sore last night because he had been home-improvement-ing.
So, the moral of this whole story is that Mark was ridiculous last night. But we had some good laughs out of it. I'm going to apologize for how disjointed this blog is. I actually wrote bits and pieces of it over the course of an entire afternoon. Now I'm really ready to go home.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
I'll Tell You a Secret
I'm going to tell you a secret right now.
Here it is: Pregnant women don't want to hear your comments about how huge they are and how you can't believe that they still have x amount of days or weeks before they are due. I don't care if the woman has gained 70 lbs and has to be rolled around on the floor because she is so huge. I don't care if it looks like she has a fully inflated beach ball down the front of her shirt. I don't care if she has walk around with both hands under her stomach to support the weight of the baby. No pregnant woman wants to hear "Oh, you look like you are ready to pop at any moment!" Particularly if said pregnant woman has just disclosed that she has more than a month (or two or three) to go before her projected delivery date. If you are shocked when she says she has 8 week, SHUT UP. Keep your face neutral and stick to these stock responses:
Congratulations
How wonderful
You look beautiful
How exciting
Variations on these responses will work, but don't get too crazy. You can also combine any of these options if you feel the need to say more. For example, "Congratulations, you look beautiful" or "That is very exciting, congratulations. And, by the way, you look beautiful." Under NO circumstances should you say "Good luck with that" or "I'll be praying for you." As for the last comment, I'm certain many pregnant women appreciate the sentiment that you will be praying for her and her baby, but, put into this context, the comment is too easy to interpret as "I'll be praying for you, you are so huge with your giant mutant child that you are going to need it."
Here it is: Pregnant women don't want to hear your comments about how huge they are and how you can't believe that they still have x amount of days or weeks before they are due. I don't care if the woman has gained 70 lbs and has to be rolled around on the floor because she is so huge. I don't care if it looks like she has a fully inflated beach ball down the front of her shirt. I don't care if she has walk around with both hands under her stomach to support the weight of the baby. No pregnant woman wants to hear "Oh, you look like you are ready to pop at any moment!" Particularly if said pregnant woman has just disclosed that she has more than a month (or two or three) to go before her projected delivery date. If you are shocked when she says she has 8 week, SHUT UP. Keep your face neutral and stick to these stock responses:
Congratulations
How wonderful
You look beautiful
How exciting
Variations on these responses will work, but don't get too crazy. You can also combine any of these options if you feel the need to say more. For example, "Congratulations, you look beautiful" or "That is very exciting, congratulations. And, by the way, you look beautiful." Under NO circumstances should you say "Good luck with that" or "I'll be praying for you." As for the last comment, I'm certain many pregnant women appreciate the sentiment that you will be praying for her and her baby, but, put into this context, the comment is too easy to interpret as "I'll be praying for you, you are so huge with your giant mutant child that you are going to need it."
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