It's been quite a couple of weeks over here at the Frank and Hope household. The biggest development of all is of course the new knowledge that we will be parents of a baby boy in about 4 months. Perhaps even dwarfing that fact though, is construction work has been completed on our house and we are moving in! Tomorrow! The freaking out, oh yes, it has begun.
We hired movers for the big day. This not being our first move, and having tried both moving ourselves (and by ourselves I mean pressing friends into service) and hiring movers, it is really a sanity saver to just pay someone to move your crap. This time we decided - ok Frank decided - to hire the moving company to also pack for us. It made a lot of sense. We've lived here for almost 4 years. We have a ton of crap that would have taken me months of flipping through old magazines and trying on old clothes to get packed. These guys were done in 3 and a half hours. It was incredibly expensive and really, am I so lazy that I can't pack myself? Quite simply, yes.
Allow me to justify. This is the absolute busiest time of year for me at work. I'm up to my eyeballs in someone else's Christmas, from the tree to the gifts (buying and wrapping them) to the holiday festivities and traditions , to the damned Christmas Eve dinner, all of it is my job. I work just about 7 days a week during the month of December. I mean it quite literally when I say I don't have time to pack. Add fat pregnancy, which is an excuse for lots of things, and a general overwhelming sense of panic, and professional packers are a fabulous solution and totally worth the cost.
Why are we moving the week before Christmas? Fair question. The house is done. We've already made one mortgage payment without living there. We want to wake up in our new house on Christmas morning. At least Frank will. There's a good chance I'm going to wake up at work on Christmas morning. We have four months before the chicken gets here and that's if everything continues to sail along smoothly. We have to get unpacked, settled in, and start getting ready for his arrival. I'm not going crazy over setting up the perfect nursery - I am resisting the baby gear marketing machine with all my might - but the boy can't sleep in a drawer. It's just time.
So we're all packed and the movers are coming tomorrow morning to do their thing. Frank will be here for the moving out but he has to work tomorrow and probably won't be around for all of the moving in. My mother in law has taken the day off from work to come help me out with the movers - you know, directing them and stuff. I'm extremely grateful for this help. Decision making is not my forte. I tend to stare and get glassy eyed and confused. Alberta (the MIL) on the other hand, is a decision making machine. She's also very practical. My own mother is jetting off to Spain tonight to visit her family and my sister. It's her first time home for Christmas in 29 years, her only grandson lives there, and my sister is prego and needs some love from her mommy too so I don't begrudge Mom going one bit. I'm awful glad though, that I have my other mom here with me to keep the panic to a minimum.
My plan for tomorrow is to dive in and start unpacking right away. With Alberta there I should be able to stay on task, although I have lots of old clothes to try on.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Drum Roll Please
So obviously when I said I would let you know in a few hours, I meant a few days. Not so swift with the updating over here.
Our appointment was at 2 o'clock on Wednesday. By 3 o'clock we were still in the waiting room and I was about to kill someone. Frank was patiently playing games on his IPhone while I eyed everyone else in the room, trying to figure out how many of them were still in front of me. Just before I lost it completely, they called my name and finally, we were in.
Everything was indeed fine with the Chicken. All arms and legs and fingers and toes were in place. The heartbeat was strong and the chambers of the heart were separated correctly. The brain was brainy and the spine was spiney. The Chicken was extremely squirmy, so much so that the technician even remarked that it was a very active baby. Some of the pictures are a little blurry because the child would just not hold still. I was being karate chopped and elbowed the whole time. One shot has the arm up near the face in full on karate chop mode.
After all the measurements and checks, the technician finally got to the good part and looked for the goods. We are expecting a boy! There was no mistaking it, all his boyness was on full display for us. Frank was so excited, he couldn't wait for the tech to leave the room so that he could start texting people. He did the happy dance a couple times and was just beaming. He's also taken to saying "Frank Jr Jr" every chance he gets.
It's pretty funny that in my family, there are 5 girls and two boys. My parents' first 3 children were girls, quite close together. My parent's first 3 grandchildren are all boys, not quite stairsteps like my sisters and me, but pretty close together. My nephew just turned 2 and my sister-in-law and I are due on the same day in April. My older sister (the mother of the 2 year old) is due again in May, but we don't know what she's having yet. It's a mini baby boom.
I've been worried because there hasn't been a lot of bonding with the baby on my part so far. I don't really know why. Being totally surprised by the pregnancy and then not having any real symptoms (not that I'm complaining!) has made it seem surreal and hard to grasp. Feeling him move so much, knowing when he's awake or not, finally having an actual pregnant belly, and finding out it's a boy has really helped bring it all home to me. It has also awakened me to the reality of holy hell, there's going to be a baby at the end of this! I'm going to be some body's mother.
The mother of a boy, no less. We're gearing up for a life of trucks and trains, matchbox cars and sports. This kid has an excellent chance of being musically talented too, given his genes, so perhaps there will be music lessons and recitals in the midst of all that rough and tumble boy stuff.
We're pretty excited.
Our appointment was at 2 o'clock on Wednesday. By 3 o'clock we were still in the waiting room and I was about to kill someone. Frank was patiently playing games on his IPhone while I eyed everyone else in the room, trying to figure out how many of them were still in front of me. Just before I lost it completely, they called my name and finally, we were in.
Everything was indeed fine with the Chicken. All arms and legs and fingers and toes were in place. The heartbeat was strong and the chambers of the heart were separated correctly. The brain was brainy and the spine was spiney. The Chicken was extremely squirmy, so much so that the technician even remarked that it was a very active baby. Some of the pictures are a little blurry because the child would just not hold still. I was being karate chopped and elbowed the whole time. One shot has the arm up near the face in full on karate chop mode.
After all the measurements and checks, the technician finally got to the good part and looked for the goods. We are expecting a boy! There was no mistaking it, all his boyness was on full display for us. Frank was so excited, he couldn't wait for the tech to leave the room so that he could start texting people. He did the happy dance a couple times and was just beaming. He's also taken to saying "Frank Jr Jr" every chance he gets.
It's pretty funny that in my family, there are 5 girls and two boys. My parents' first 3 children were girls, quite close together. My parent's first 3 grandchildren are all boys, not quite stairsteps like my sisters and me, but pretty close together. My nephew just turned 2 and my sister-in-law and I are due on the same day in April. My older sister (the mother of the 2 year old) is due again in May, but we don't know what she's having yet. It's a mini baby boom.
I've been worried because there hasn't been a lot of bonding with the baby on my part so far. I don't really know why. Being totally surprised by the pregnancy and then not having any real symptoms (not that I'm complaining!) has made it seem surreal and hard to grasp. Feeling him move so much, knowing when he's awake or not, finally having an actual pregnant belly, and finding out it's a boy has really helped bring it all home to me. It has also awakened me to the reality of holy hell, there's going to be a baby at the end of this! I'm going to be some body's mother.
The mother of a boy, no less. We're gearing up for a life of trucks and trains, matchbox cars and sports. This kid has an excellent chance of being musically talented too, given his genes, so perhaps there will be music lessons and recitals in the midst of all that rough and tumble boy stuff.
We're pretty excited.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Big Day
We're heading out in 2 minutes for the big ultrasound. I'm worried that the chicken is still face down, butt up and we're not going to see a damn thing. As much as this kid moves around, who knows which way it's facing? I swear I felt a foot today on the right side of my belly.
I'll let you know in a couple hours.
I'll let you know in a couple hours.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Dream Weaver
My brain has officially gone on strike, I think. It's demanding a decrease in the levels of estrogen in its work environment before even coming to the negotiating table. I put the tea kettle on and wonder what the hell that noise is 5 minutes later, I forget what I'm talking about mid-conversation, and yesterday, I swear I lost the ability to speak clearly for a few hours. I feel like I may need to start wearing a helmet soon, for my own protection.
As part of its labor action, my brain is creating the weirdest dreams ever. Last night I dreamed (dreamt? I never really know) that the baby had come early - no labor or anything, she was just home with us already - so the doctor wasn't going to see anything on the ultrasound on Wednesday but maybe we should go anyway just to find out why my belly keeps getting bigger and why I still feel movement if the baby is already here. My subconscious suggested that maybe there was another baby in there still.
While trying to solve this dilemma, I also kept oversleeping and forgetting to feed the baby every three hours and Frank had to keep asking me if I fed the baby. (Why every 3 hours? You'll have to ask the United Normal Brain Functions Union Local 31. This is their job action.) I also couldn't remember where I had put the baby down to sleep and was relieved to find her in a pack and play in the living room. The living room, by the way, of our current apartment, where this baby will never live.
Then I realized that I was feeding this baby formula and had never even tried nursing. (I should add that this dream baby appeared to be about 6 months old and was talking to me.) I was horrified by this and immediately began to try to nurse. It seemed to be going fine until the baby turned into my cat and started biting me really hard while I stubbornly tried to keep nursing.
That's all I remember. It was disturbingly real and freaky. I was really happy to wake and find myself still pregnant without a mystery baby in a pack and play in the living room.
It was definitely a girl in the dream though. As if that means anything. The BIG ultrasound on Wednesday will finally solve that mystery for us. I hope.
Meanwhile, I hope the brain strike ends soon. A girl can't function like this.
As part of its labor action, my brain is creating the weirdest dreams ever. Last night I dreamed (dreamt? I never really know) that the baby had come early - no labor or anything, she was just home with us already - so the doctor wasn't going to see anything on the ultrasound on Wednesday but maybe we should go anyway just to find out why my belly keeps getting bigger and why I still feel movement if the baby is already here. My subconscious suggested that maybe there was another baby in there still.
While trying to solve this dilemma, I also kept oversleeping and forgetting to feed the baby every three hours and Frank had to keep asking me if I fed the baby. (Why every 3 hours? You'll have to ask the United Normal Brain Functions Union Local 31. This is their job action.) I also couldn't remember where I had put the baby down to sleep and was relieved to find her in a pack and play in the living room. The living room, by the way, of our current apartment, where this baby will never live.
Then I realized that I was feeding this baby formula and had never even tried nursing. (I should add that this dream baby appeared to be about 6 months old and was talking to me.) I was horrified by this and immediately began to try to nurse. It seemed to be going fine until the baby turned into my cat and started biting me really hard while I stubbornly tried to keep nursing.
That's all I remember. It was disturbingly real and freaky. I was really happy to wake and find myself still pregnant without a mystery baby in a pack and play in the living room.
It was definitely a girl in the dream though. As if that means anything. The BIG ultrasound on Wednesday will finally solve that mystery for us. I hope.
Meanwhile, I hope the brain strike ends soon. A girl can't function like this.
Monday, December 1, 2008
I Want a Hippopatomus for Christmas...
I have a whole Thanksgiving/Chicken update in the works, but first a little anecdote about my awesome job.
I picked the kids up from school today, having not seen them in a week. When we got home, they were hanging up coats and chattering on and on. When I walked away from the closet the ten year old looked at me and said "you got fatter". Then she told me she brought me something home from school because it looks like me.
She brought me home a little action figure Gloria doll from Madagascar 2. Because that's what I look like right now. She thought it was a hilariously good joke. Ha ha ha. Jerk.
For the record, which I will soon back up with photos, I do not look like a damn hippo. I barely look pregnant. And if I had half of Gloria's ass, that would be remarkable.
Kids are awesome.
I picked the kids up from school today, having not seen them in a week. When we got home, they were hanging up coats and chattering on and on. When I walked away from the closet the ten year old looked at me and said "you got fatter". Then she told me she brought me something home from school because it looks like me.
She brought me home a little action figure Gloria doll from Madagascar 2. Because that's what I look like right now. She thought it was a hilariously good joke. Ha ha ha. Jerk.
For the record, which I will soon back up with photos, I do not look like a damn hippo. I barely look pregnant. And if I had half of Gloria's ass, that would be remarkable.
Kids are awesome.
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