The Light at the End of the Tunnel is not a Train Bearing Down Upon Me

Saturday started off somewhat depressing. I got a call from hubby at work and he preceded in with the drama that is our relationship. We talked a long time trying to figure out what we want to do, but before we could finish, he had to hang up to go back to training. I was in tears, by the time the call ended, but then, I'm always in tears these days (damn pregnancy hormones!).

I took the babe to her birthday party in Salt Lake. Luckily, the mother of the birthday girl indicated that it was not necessary for me to stick around (thank goodness!). I don't think I could have handled all those little ragamuffins on a day like Saturday (cold, cold, depressingly cold and snowy). I ended up at a store doing some, dare I say it, Christmas shopping. I picked up a really nice, designer pull-over jacket for my hubby and a couple of other items. I also bought a gift for my coworker (actually, I already ordered a gift for her - several really cool coffee cups with beautiful, eclectic art work, but it's been on backorder so long, I doubt I'll get it before Christmas, the birth of the baby or both so, I bought something else - a wooden wine rack). I got the babe a huge drawing pad since she's always trying to find paper to color on and a couple of movies.

Afterwards, I went back to pick up the babe and just as we were leaving, she became obstinate and hateful. "I don't want to go home, mommy. I don't want to leave!" Pouting ensued along with some pre-temper tantrum type behavior (which I don't go for and she's never done) So, I'm standing there embarrassed because she's being a total brat and won't listen to anything I'm telling her, but I'm so tired that I can't regulate like I want to. By the time she got to the car, she was in tears because I'd said the all dreaded, "Your daddy's going to hear about this." I hate to throw that card for one because I don't want her to think that her mother can't handle her and for two because then I'm the confirmed bad guy and he's always the good guy (wouldn't you cry if your eternal "good guy" all of a sudden became upset with you?). What a mess! I grounded her for the evening and that seemed to do the trick.

When dad got home, he talked to her and gave her the, do-what-your-mother-says-or-I'll-really-give-you-something-to-cry-about speech. Afterwards, he had her helping with some chores he needed to take care of. Shortly after, she came up and apologized for her behavior. Oh, the apologies! She's so precious when they're sincere. I'm glad I have a good kid, for the most part. Once we were all squared away and had eaten dinner, I put her to bed and showered. Hubby had nodded off on the couch and I decided a few days ago that I'm not playing the wake-up-and-talk-to-me game anymore, so I just left him there.

A little while later, he comes in and apologizes for falling asleep and is mad at himself for doing so, because of all the paperwork he still needed to do before his Vegas trip. He goes downstairs and gets the paperwork, brings it back up stairs and starts working on it. We talk some more, getting out more of the frustration we've both been feeling. I whip out the laptop and help him find some addresses he needs (his work then becoming a team effort). It was kind of fun, burning the midnight oil together. I fell asleep at around ten as we watched Michael Buble in concert on PBS. When I woke up for my first potty break, it was nearly 1:00 am and he was still at it. I told him, "Aren't you glad you don't have to deal with this...me getting up at all hours of the night to go to the bathroom, only to sit up until the baby stops playing kung-fu fighter with my organs?" He was like, "Actually, I would rather be here with you then, I could sit-up with you when you wake up." This is the hubby I know and love. I helped him some more with his project, then the little one quieted down and I went back to sleep.

We got up at the same time and he left for Vegas at around 6:30am. Unfortunately, due to a white-out down south and terrible traffic into Vegas (a rodeo convention or something), he didn't make it to the Palace Station until close to 5:00pm PST. He was so pissed, but glad to be off the road (normally, he would have gotten there at or near 11:00 am). Those extra hours in the car really had him in a foul state, but I definitely couldn't blame him. We talked a bit about the next day's events and how he was going to prepare. His attitude about all of this is so different than what it was a few months ago. I'm glad he's not putting so much stake into this. He spends so much time worrying about every little thing that, I guess, he's finally figured it out! Worrying isn't going to make things happen or not happen. Things will happen or not happen, regardless of his fretting over it. I just want him (and the rest of the family) to find our center again. After our talk yesterday and our phone conversation this morning, it may really be a good light and not a train bearing down upon us. I was beginning to think the latter.

On a different track, I spent a lot of quality time with the babe, last night. We worked on Christmas presents for the neighbors (we're doing the layered cookie jars with the recipes). They take a lot of time and I'm finding that I'm running out of ingredients fast and frequently. I'll have to stop at the store again this afternoon (and I was just there yesterday!). We also sat on the couch together and talked about the shows we were watching. I'm glad I can field her questions cause there's really a lot of raunchy stuff on t.v. these days and she's smart. I don't pull the wool over her eyes, but I do explain things in a way that I believe she can understand them better. We had our story, then I put her to bed. Hubby called again just after that to talk a bit and tell me good night. Overall, I'm feeling better about life and it not sucking as much as it did when the weekend started. I'm hoping it progressively gets better and that I can climb out of this funk and enjoy the holidays like I'd like to.

Life Can Really Suck!

Oh, and it can in a big way! I was back in the hospital Wednesday night with contractions coming 6 minutes apart. Still only Braxton Hicks but, 6 minutes? My husband's sleep apnea is going to turn me into a murderess because I kept trying to get him to wake up and show me support, any kind of support. I was scared, frustrated, confused...It wasn't until I'd made several trips to my car (packing it with stuff like my laptop, hospital bag and purse) that he arose and tried to do something. I was in tears by then as he tried to convince me to sit and talk to him. Please! After my doc had already said, go to the emergency room ten minutes prior, I'm supposed to sit around and psychoanalyze life with him? Bullshit! "I can't talk to you right now. You should have talked to me before. Now, I have to go to the emergency room."

So, I called my mother (I've been doing that a lot lately). She met me at the hospital, with no questions asked, at 11:00 on a work night. They injected me every hour, on the hour (3xs) with the tributelene in order to stop the contractions. I got home at around or a little after 2:00am and crashed. Thursday, I worked from home and my hubby (who finally decided to contribute to the living) took the little one to school and my mother picked her up and brought her home. (Yes. After all that, my mother dragged her tired butt to work). She's an awesome mom and she's getting baked goods for being so!(Which is sooo not enough for all that she does).

I went to work, yesterday (much to my boss's dismay. He was worried about my health...actually concerned about me!) and sat in on an interview as well as worked on the daily tasks that had built up during the interview. Contractions came, but not nearly as frequently. Hubby redeemed himself a bit by showing up at my office 45 minutes after I got there with breakfast goodies. This is the hubby I know...the kind, generous man who is concerned about others, but I fear it's fading fast. This morning, he told me about all the stuff going on in his mind lately, as he drove to work for training; the possible job change, his difficulties with his family as of late, and the drama within our relationship. I was frank with him and said that I didn't feel selfish thinking that a husband should only want his wife and how I felt about his relationships (so far platonic) with other women. He told me that the counselors he's been seeing have both said that he's implanted the potential of a possible break-up between us in his mind that has been there for years and that they don't know his strength or foresee how he's going to get past it or everything else he's been going through. It was devastating to hear and he even said it was not what he wanted or was expecting to hear. Truly a "Christian" counselor would have given him a totally different perspective, but I don't know if he'll ever go that route.

I love my family and enjoy being a wife and mother. It's wild because I never thought I would play either of these roles. I know how hard I am to live with (total perfectionist) and how selfish I can sometimes be (with him, not my daughter), but fate had other plans. I married young (but not ignorantly) and had my hubby all to myself for two years before our first child showed up (unplanned, of course). The same with this baby. We were "Three's Company" for five years before she appeared, unplanned, but loved all the same. I've always felt that everything happened within the time it was supposed to happen and in the way that it happened for a reason. I can't bear to think that, if hubby gets this job, he'll go to Vegas without us and like it...like the freedom of being without a wife and house to think about. Enjoy the idea of being able to date again and "experiment" the way he wants to. I already know he'll miss his girls, but I'm not exactly sure he'll miss me. Oh, how I hate this!

I'm not sure how to handle things well, right now. I'm a logic based person for the most part, but being pregnant throws logic right out of the window. Every time we talk about this stuff, I get all emotional, can't think straight and start to cry. Believe me, it's definitely worth crying over, but I miss the me that can reason things out with relative sanity. That me is on vacation until the baby comes. How I miss her! I despise walking around with my heart on my sleeve. Hubby says that he appreciates that I'm this way and he feels I'm being more honest. Perhaps I am. It's just not what I'm used to. If only there could be a happy medium.

So, it's nearly 8:00 am here in Utah...the snow is falling again and my yard (which was green last night) is completely white this morning. I have to take the babe to a birthday party, all the way into Salt Lake. I also have to do something with the rat's nest on her head (I've let it go for several weeks, poor thing). She'll be styling by the time I'm done (I hope!). I'll be thinking and praying a lot, over the next few weeks. I've given everything up to the higher power and asked for guidance, but humans are stubborn (as am I) and I continue to try to resolve things by myself. It ain't happening. Therefore, I need to just chill out and think about trying to keep this baby "in the oven" for at least two more weeks as well as focus on caring for my kindergartener, who has no idea the strife her parents are going through. That's really all I can do...but it still hurts and plagues me. I have a lot of fear I've got to let go and my life is so not my own, right now.

I Need a Vacation!

It's so sad when you're looking towards your maternity leave as a potential vacation (cause that sure the hell isn't what it's going to be). Normally, I take a ton of time off around Christmas and the timing is perfect. We normally do the family vacation thing during the summer, so by the time the holidays come around, I'm ready to leave again. I guess it's just a kind of restlessness I've become accustomed to...well, whatever it is, it's starting to make me nuts! I feel like taking a drive somewhere and just laying low for a few days but there's no way I can. Every day I have is for the baby...every single one, so I can't afford to just "take off" like I want to. I'd even be fine with me and the babe "taking off" to Wolf Creek (one of our favorite getaways), but it's not like she's in preschool or daycare anymore. Kindergarten requires attendance, turned in assignments and record taking. Then, there are the social aspects. I can really tell she's missing school when she's out for a long period of time, like this past week. She needs the outlet of friends and silliness to keep her grounded and her mother sane.

The other issue is my husband. More marital drama, I'm afraid. It's actually more of the same stuff: hubby working way too many hours, spending way too much time trying to get "house" stuff done, and then spending little to no time with me or the babe. I can feel the beast of depression coming down on me, and it's really not a good time to be preggers and hating life. With wintry, snowy skies and no sun it's going to take it's toll if I don't do something. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do until after next week. The waiting around for him to come back from Vegas, just so I'm assured that all his days off are actually days off and not time for more overtime, is excruciating! I've thought about spending more time at my mother's if only for the companionship, but that would mean more time around my sister and I can only handle her in small doses. Besides that, my mother would become suspicious (because that's just the type of person she is) and would silently wonder why I was at her house so much...then possibly hold secret resentment against me or my hubby. Although, I could just be paranoid. I don't know. Did I mention I haven't heard from him at all today? We fuss a lot when there's tension between us and I truly think he's trying to find his peace. I hope he has better luck at it than I'm having.

I just got a call from my doctor's office and they are squeezing me in next week (the 6th at 9:15 am...my boss is going to love that). It's a good thing, too especially after my stint in the hospital this past Saturday. The doctor will only be in on the 6th and is off the remainder of the week. He was completely booked when I set-up the appointment last week and I hoped a cancellation would happen. I guess my hopes were realized. So, that's one good thing that's happened to me this week. I hope he spends more time talking to me about what happened then my normal 5 minutes with him in the office of, "Your blood pressure is good. You're weight is good and your pee is good. Any questions?". That gets a bit frustrating.

So, no skipping town, no husband and I've got an earlier doctor's appointment to look forward too. God, that's awful! Well, I think I need to give myself something to look forward to. Maybe I'll take me and the babe to an "eat out" tonight (somewhere besides McDonald's, for heaven's sake). I could do with some seafood and there's a Long John's Silvers downtown. Okay, so it's not "real" seafood, but it would make me happy and the babe likes their chicken. And, since it's in a mall, would could walk about a bit and look at Christmassey stuff. Yeah, okay. That's what I'll do. It ain't much but, you gotta find your joy where you can.

A Visit to the Hospital

I'll start out by saying, "I love my mother's cooking!" Thanksgiving was wonderful and the menu consisted of roasted turkey, cornbread dressing, collard greens, sweet potato souffle, baked macaroni and cheese, brown rice, turkey gravy, squash and my apple crisp for dessert. All of us crashed after eating our weight in food and perhaps, it was the food that got the baby going. I started having braxton hicks like crazy. After about the 15th, my mother was like, "Call and see if this is normal, or if we should bring you in." I spoke to an Amber "something" and she said that they were normal, until or if they began to appear 4 to 6 times within the hour. Mine were more random and I'd had several over a several hour period, so everything was fine.

My husband slept like the dead, literally. My mother had put a blanket down for her dog and ours (so, imagine a 116 pound Rottweiler laying next to a 109 pound great Dane) right in front of the fire place. My hubby was snoozing on the couch when he sat up all of sudden then relocated to the floor next to the dogs. It was the craziest funniest thing we'd seen all night. He stayed there for another two hours before I had to roll him out of sleep. He showered, packed some leftovers, then went to work. (My daughter stayed to sleep over).Once I got home, I ate again then got in the bed, still having contractions.

Yesterday, I was so paranoid about the potential of having the baby early, I quickly got the tree up then decided to finish up the nursery. (Thanksgiving morning, I finally finished the stenciling of the South wall). I started with the crib and was so impressed by the instructions, I was half-tempted to call and commend whoever the technical writer had been. So often, instructions are written without any mind to the person who will be assembling the product. There were so many, obviously female nuisances, that I marveled at how fast the crib was coming together. Once the crib was assembled (all by my lonesome), I went downstairs, dragged up the bassinet box and assembled that as well. Then, I took the car seat and stroller out of its box and set them against the wall, just in case. I was really tired, but proud of myself.

This morning, I awakened around 1:30 to aches in my lower back. After getting up to use the bathroom, I got back in bed and found a comfortable position. While laying there, the Braxton Hicks started up again...this time, coming much more frequently then Thanksgiving evening. I started keeping up with the times. They were between 4 and 9 minutes apart. I started to pack my bag (just in case), then called my mother. She was at my house in about twenty minutes. We woke up my daughter and headed to the hospital. Once there, the emergency crew toke forever!Two people working with only two people in the waiting room, and we sat there for twenty minutes. Finally, I started filling out paperwork. The lady attending to me says, "Are you pregnant, honey?" I was like, "Yes." Then she says, "Oh my God I couldn't even tell!" What the hell?! Do people normally carry basketballs under their shirts? I mean, really! Then she says, "I am so sorry, let's get you in here." So, she starts working on my paperwork double-time, then calls up to Labor and Delivery to get me a room.

My mother, daughter and I head to the labor and delivery area and are greeted by very nice night nurses. We get into the room (which is beautiful and much bigger than the hospital room I had with my first) and I get undressed and into the dreaded hospital gown. Once in the bed, she straps on heart monitors and a arm cuff for frequent blood pressure checks. The nurse, Amberly (the same lady, I think, I spoke to on Thanksgiving) asked me a series of questions about my medical history, preferences for delivery, etc.... I was beginning to get a little nervous, but she assured me that the baby was fine and that, indeed, I was still having contractions, but she would call my doctor to see what he wanted to do. She suggested that he might have me get a
tributelene injection, which would slow down and stop the contractions. She also said she'd check to see if my cervix was dilated. Great! Don't you just love a good pap smear?

She left for a few minutes, then came back and swabbed me. Lovely! It was unpleasant, but bearable. Then, she takes a glove and lubes up several of her fingers to check my cervix. Oh my God! I thought I was going to die! She's pretty much fisting me to find the tip of my cervix. Yikes! It felt like it took forever, then my daughter pipes up, "Mommy, is she reaching in to grab your baby?" Oh, the mind of a child. That chillaxed me right away. She let me know, as soon as she extracted her hand from my area, that my cervix was not dilated.

So, the nurse spoke to my doctor and the injection was approved. Ow! It was one of those that burns going in. Then she tells me it will make me jittery. After about 30 minutes, I was shaking like I'd drank four cups of coffee. Ironically, the contractions were slowing and she believed I would get to go home after a little more observation. As we waited, I took a good look around the room to see what would be available to me whenever the baby did come. The TV has a dual deck VCR and DVD player. Nice! I'm planning on rewatching the LOTR triology when baby finally arrives. There was a nice couch, a lounge chair, several wood chairs, and a glide rocker. There was also a billy Rubin table for baby. I liked the idea of a table like that being in the room, rather than down the hall in the nursery. You could still attend to your baby, even if he/she had jaundice.

Nursey comes back and says that the swab she took for a test I can't remember the name of, came back negative. It would have basically told us if I was due to have the baby within two weeks. Wow! How far things have come since I last delivered. My mother was like, "Great! I've got a two week window where I don't have to worry." Me, too.

I finally went home, feeling a loopy and jittery (the way I feel when I've taken a Loritab). It was snowing lightly and the air was more crisp than it had been in weeks. My mother stopped and
got us all breakfast. She stuck around while I packed the babe's bag, then took her with her when she left (I knew I wouldn't be able to take her to the birthday party in Salt Lake today, especially after nursery dear and doctor instructed me to "take it easy"). Nursey even said that if my contractions started up again, I should miss work on Monday. Thank goodness for that laptop! I can't get over how valuable that thing is going to be to me. Once my mother left, I slept for several hours.

So, here I sit now, eating leftovers and writing about the early morning's events. It was so surreal and a bit scary, all at the same time. I kept hubby in the loop and when he finally came home, he kept falling asleep as I told him what was going on. Of course, I got pissed off and he was just as mad at me for storming off like a two-year old, but I felt justified in my irritation. The contractions are still coming, but nothing like they were before. At any rate, all is well for now and I will pay close attention to my body for the next few days. I guess I'm really coming down to the wire.

Showered in Baby "Stuff"

My baby shower was held this afternoon in one of our conference rooms. The girls really did it up with lavender, pink and pearlescent balloons along with babyfetti and dark Hershey kisses on the table. A buffet of delectable desserts was at the rear of the room and many people came (some I didn't even know) to wish me well and shower me with baby "stuff". It was so sweet and I'd really forgotten how precious baby clothes can be. Granted, my hubby has been buying stuff since we found out, but there's something about having a room full of baby hungry women, watching open bag after box full of unicorns, bears, pink fluffiness and pastel dreamies that makes the whole experience...well, super sweet. We really had a good time.

Afterwards, the men in the office kindly filled my car for me with the remaining gifts (my mother and sister were there to take half for me before they left for appointments and such). I'm really excited for the baby to come now, so I can see her in all this fabulous stuff. She's going to be a well dressed kid, I gotta tell yah. There's still lots to do and, I'm told by coworkers, a "fountain" of cash is soon to come (we have faculty all over the country and many wanted to contribute. I wonder if this "cash" will cover one of the big items like the changing table or the dresser? We still don't have those yet).

Hubby was in a mood today...my guess was because his regular work schedule started up again tonight and he was not looking forward to it at all. After all that time this weekend with us (did I mention he also found someone to cover Saturday evening and Sunday??), I think he got just as spoiled as we did. He told me that he wouldn't have another day off until his trip to Vegas (the second week in December). So, that sucks in a big way. He was frisky this evening and wanted to play, but I'm not crazy. How can we play when there's only fifteen minutes for him to get ready for work? I was not up for hearing (possibly tomorrow morning) that it was me who made him late or got him a write-up or whatever. Not that I think he would say so outright, but he may subtlety let me know it was me. So, I settled for soft caresses and kisses on the ear. That will have to hold him until tomorrow, I guess.

Still not finished painting (nope. we watched Polar Express instead). I'll be working from home tomorrow, after my doctor's appointment. Perhaps, during a break, I can get some of the painting in. I guess I'll have to. I know I won't want to do it on Thursday and Friday is "put up the tree" day.

They gave me my loaner laptop for maternity leave, finally. It's working out great! (I did a test run tonight, just to make sure I could be up and running early tomorrow morning). It does everything my computer at work can do. Damn, I don't know why they just don't let me work from home permanently? There are others, like me, that can do the majority of their work from home too. Aren't we a virtual University? What the hell? Oh, well. Perhaps someone will get a clue someday, then they can sell the building and put their money into recruitment and retention, rather than suite rental. What a concept!

Time for sleep now...

I'm Married, again!

Friday evening, I got home and started right to work on the painting in the nursery. I was able to complete the south wall with the first of the layered stencils (only one layer left to do). Once I was done at around 6ish, my daughter came in and said, "Mommy, daddy wants you to come to the back." So, I tidied up the materials and headed to the back where our bedroom is located. He was actually awake, alert and talking (a rare thing at that hour, since he's usually dead to the world until around 7 or 8). So, he said, "What do you guys want for dinner? My treat." Of course, my babe begins her normal, "I want McDonalds," speech (what is it with kids and McDonalds?). Dad's like, "Anything besides McDonalds." So, we decided on chicken. The babe pipes up, "Daddy, can we eat inside?" I began to think about how much time it would take to eat-in and then get back in time for Dad to get ready for work, but he just says, "Yeah, if we don't take too long."

So, we put our shoes on and head to KFC. We order, sit down and begin eating and chatting. Before I know it, it's quarter to eight and I start in, "We'd better get back so Daddy can get ready for work." Well, daddy starts snickering and then I figure out he's up to something. "I got somebody to cover for me." I love those words! I got him the whole night and was too thrilled! We ended up watching Christmas with the Cranks and eating dessert together. It was lovely. We also spent a blissful, adult, evening together. I can't even remember how long it's been since I "got" any. Granted, "getting it" is very different these days, but it was still wonderful to get.

Thinking that I needed to pace my time with him on Saturday (since he had to go in on Saturday evening), we slept in and talked a lot. Then, he got up and went to get us breakfast. When he got back, we all ate together and decided what we were going to do for the day. Well, there really wasn't anything anybody wanted to do, so we lounged around most of the morning and afternoon. Hubby says, "I've really got to get my oil changed because I'm about a thousand miles over and I can hear it in the engine." Totally understanding, I say, "Go ahead and we'll be here when you get back." So, off he goes. Then, I decide the babe and I can pick up lunch. The mall was ideal because, low and behold they have a McDonalds and a Chinese Gourmet. I was able to get us both what we wanted (and calling dad, got his order too). After having a major contraction and a hot flash, we head back home. Me made it back moments after he did.

Lunch was filling and we all sat and watched another movie together. Once we put the babe to bed, we wached Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, which was outstanding! It was also very depressing, but of course we couldn't say we didn't see it coming. After that, we went back to our bedroom and stuck another movie in the PS2 (for noise, more than anything); The Hideway, based on the Dean Koontz book. I don't know what it was about that movie, but it got hubby into a particularly frisky mood. I had dozed off, but he succeeeded in waking me up in the nicest way possible (you know what I mean). He even put his fear aside for the evening and was not disappointed. He kept saying, "How could I have forgotten how good this was?!" I remember looking at the clock as I dozed off, two hours later.

Sunday was a surprise too. Normally, we have the big "philisophical" discussions about whether or not he should go to church and why it's "okay" to go, even if you feel like your the evilest among evil. No discussions at all! In fact, he put on a suit...a SUIT and got ready to go with the babe and I. Church was fine, until the usher brought me a note saying, "Enchantress, your mother has gone to the LDS Hospital emergency room." Talk about freaking out! We creep out of church and head to the hospital to visit my mom, who has checked herself in complaining of intense chest pains. She's fine and everything looks good, but she's going to have to take a stress test today. Her big complaint? "I've got a Thanksgiving meal to prepare in a couple of days. I really don't have time for this." Oh, so my mother.

We left the hospital, had breakfast, then went to the movies to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It was terrific! I was disappointed that they left out some great aspects in the novel but, the movie would have been nearly four hours long if they'd tried to keep everything. It was great, nonetheless (No, I'm not an obsessed Potter freak, but I do like the novels and my little one has enjoyed the stories thus far. She's also excited to see The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe...a story I, myself grew up with). We also saw the new trailer to Superman, and I nearly wet myself. I'm so excited for that one! I think I'll probably lose my mind when Joss Whedon finally gets Wonder Woman off the ground. I'm such a kid.

So, basically, my hubby was my hubby again this weekend and not just a house mate. It was wonderful having him around at home, being a dad to the babe the way he likes to and having a lover in my bed at night. I don't think I've slept so well in so long. I was really spoiled...even if it is something I can't have all the time, I really enjoyed myself. It was so easy to remember, this past weekend, why we got married in the first place.

Crocheted, Ghetto Fabulousness!

So, I'm the cute pregnant lady again. At least, my friends think I'm the cute pregnant lady. I went and got my hair did and I am loving it. It's black with bronze highlights (which I know is totally ghetto, but in Utah, nobody cares). Plus, I think it's pretty cute and I got loads of compliments. I'ts long and that automatically shaves 5 or six years off of me. When I got home with my new "do", my normally opinionated husband said absolutely nothing. At work, the girls (after ooing and awing for twenty minutes), asked me what he thought and I told them that he said nothing. This did not sit well with them because they know how he is and they spent time pondering his silence much more than I had. So, I waited for him to call, so I could question him (since they succeeded in making me paranoid). When he called a few minutes after our conversation, he was like, "Well, I left Nashville so I wouldn't have to look at Shaniqua in the ghetto." What the hell?

This evening, I came home and I told him how many compliments I'd gotten and he was like, "Yes, because all your coworkers are caucasian, honey, and don't know any better. And anyway, honey, it's not important if I like it, do you like it?"Then, he goes on to say, "I, personally, loved it the way it was the last time." Hmm. Talk about building up your self-esteem. Oh, well. He's right. He doesn't have to like it so, I will happily bask in the fact that I like it and I don't have to do a damn thing to it for three months. I can end my pregnancy, have this baby and start raising her a bit, all before I have to have it done again. Suits me just fine.

Hubby has actually been pretty depressed the past couple of days. Jail politics at it's best; they've decided to keep all the favorite officers where they are, which means any hope he or anyone else on graveyards had of changing back to day-shifts is down the crapper. That means, when shift-bid happens again in January, he stays where he is for another eight months. He was so disappointed, but not surprised. Then he got all pumped about Vegas again...in his eyes... a way out. I keep telling him that Vegas may not happen and that he needs to find a way to make life better for himself there, if he can, in the event that we do stay in Utah. It's just been today that logic has kicked back in for him and he's understanding what I said (of course, he already knew this for himself, but he was so upset he couldn't really see straight). We've pretty much decided that if we do stay, we will sell our home and opt for a condo instead.

I am so thrilled tomorrow is Friday! I can't believe how much I'm looking forward to sleeping in on Saturday! Normally, sleeping in doesn't interest me because I'm such a morning person. (yep, I'm one of those disgusting, happy, perky morning people that normal people who drink 4 cups of coffee by 9:00 am want to shoot) Every weekend is like a mini-vacation to me, now. What with all the energy I'm now putting into getting the nursery ready (these afternoon projects squeezed in after working all day in the office) is really beginning to take a toll on me. I still haven't mastered not doing the things I did before I was pregnant. I'm still trying to take on the world. But, there's so much to do before the baby gets here!

Once I finish the stenciling on the south wall, then I'll start working on assembling the crib (which just happens to be a convertible. I'm sure the directions will be a joy to ponder). After that, the Eddie Bauer Travel System stroller and car seat, then putting up the trim or crown molding (we haven't decided yet). The baby shower is next Tuesday, so there's another built-in project of organizing baby clothes and supplies. I think that's when I'll get the babe involved. She's been so patient, waiting for something she can do in the nursery. I didn't dare have her help with the stenciling, as much as she kept begging to help. I was afraid unicorns painted by the babe would have been a little to surreal. A babie's eyes can only handle so much.

Finally, I have to see about packing my bag for the hospital. I'm about a month behind there (they usually say have it packed before your 8th month. Oh well). So, I've got to get that together sooner rather than later. Oh, and of course, the Christmas tree must be up on Friday, November 25th. See? Taking on the world....

Maintenance

This week, I've been scrambling to find someone to do my hair. The lady I went to last time, just had a baby (so I kinda don't think she's up for braiding my hair). I knew of a place, not far from my home, that may work so I gave them a call. Shaqueta (I kid you not!) informed me that all the stylists would be traveling to Vegas for the holiday weekend/week and would I be able to come in tomorrow (today). So, last night, lil' sis and I were busy taking down the million microbraids in my head, all this after I'd spent two hours painting stencil "stuff" in the nursery. I was dog tired! Of course, it's not just taking down the braids, it's combing out the "mess" it leaves after you've washed out the three months of ground in yuck, lint and flakes. Combing (or maybe raking is a better word) out the now fro I have took about an hour.

So, today I'm sporting my favorite wig to cover the tangle free fro. I always get lots of compliments when I where it and it's been nearly a year since I've sported this one. I've pretty much grown out all of the process (perm) I had before the first braiding and it is thick as hell. The effects of the prenatal vitamins can definitely be seen in my hair. It's crazy! I hope they don't turn me away when I take this wig off and present them with my flattened fro, "Here. Please make this look pretty.'' I am looking forward to when it's done and I can be the cute, pregnant lady again. We'll see.



My coworker asked me when I was going to start my maternity leave. My answer? When my water breaks and that's pretty much the truth. Unless the doctor tells me otherwise, I'll be coming in until the baby makes her arrival. It sounds crazy, I know but, why stop and possibly loose out on needed money if I'm physically able to do my job? I mean, it's not like I'm running a crane or doing construction work. I sit at a desk and manage emails most of the day. I get up when I feel like it and, eventually, sit back down when I feel like it. I don't see what the big deal is. I'm not a wilting flower that needs to be babied during pregnancy. Granted, there's a lot I can't do now, but there's so much that I can still do. The only irritating thing, besides the dull ache in my lower back, is how hot I get during the end of the day. We've got 40 degree weather with low 20's at night, am I'm sweating like a slave by 2:00pm. It's embarrassing!

I've been wondering about my doctor, though. I think (and he hasn't said anything outright) that he will put me on bed rest, probably in mid-December. I have a feeling I won't make the Christmas party this year. I hate missing out on social events. Being the social butterfly that I am, it's a need I fulfill by participating in events like these. I hate getting things second hand...I want to be the one dispensing the information, know what I mean? Oh, well. I guess I can't be at everything. (My daughter has somehow inherited this trait and feels a need to be included in everything. She's young still and can't finesse it the way I can, so she can come off sounding annoying. Other times, the cute factor works in her favor.)

A Few of the Seven Deadlies

Well, which of the seven you ask? For me, today, the first sin of choice is gluttony. I have been gluttonous and boy am I paying for it now. We have these monthly "staff" lunches at work were there is always food 'o plenty. Our Provost will be retiring at the end of 2006 and the entire University has these goals to meet "for him" before he retires. Each month, we rip numbers off a tally sheet to show how far we've come, then we "break bread" together. Today's meal? A scrumptiously catered Olive Garden lunch, complete with Lasagna, Fettucine, tossed salad and all the bread sticks you could eat (or, in my case, scarf down in an uncontrollable frenzy). I, of course, had my fill and then some. Now, I'm sitting at my computer straining to keep my head from hitting the keyboard. I knew when I'd overdone it, but I just kept going. This is definitely not the time to do this, with my belly as big as it is now. There's no room for all that food! The baby is treating my organs like punching bags because of it. Believe me, I've learned my lesson.

Speaking of "big bellies", my belly is the object of fear again. It's just blowing my mind how horny I am all of the time and my hubby is terrified to do anymore than mutual oral (which he loves, so no complaints there). Not that I'm complaining it's just that I do like the regular poking (sorry, too graphic?). He's actually said, "I don't want to dent the baby's head," which, everyone knows, is absolutely ridiculous. He even knows it's ridiculous! Granted, my "hang time" isn't very good and I'm probably not nearly as much fun in my current condition, but that doesn't mean I don't need it. Ugh! It's so frustrating! I'm lusting after my husband and he can't handle it. (deadly sin number two)

So, because of my condition, I'm envious of those who can do what I can't right now. (Number three...) As I've said before, my looks are fairly decent, but my body has gotten me everywhere. Now, I look at people who've got a shape (at least a waist) and I'm like, "Dammit! I had a waist once, too. I've got pictures to prove it! Here, let me whip up a slideshow so you can see how mad-sexy I used to be. Look! Just look!! I used to be limber and could contort into all sorts of fun positions. Don't judge me because, right now, I can only maintain missionary for five seconds, I've still got it! Just give me a few months, after this baby comes" (Oh, and I will so be back on the Ebonyechantress page, documenting the weightloss when the time comes. You can believe that!)

Okay, so I know it's for the greater good and I am, after all, growing a baby. I guess I've hit that stage where the body is just tired of being pregnant. I looked and I'll be 8-months prego as of Thursday of this week. Eight-freakin'-months (that means only four more weeks until full term, for those who don't feel like counting). Our president (during the lunch) also announced that we will be having a joint, company party, to be held on December 19th at the Wells Fargo Tower on the 23rd floor. For every year, up until last year, we had all-staff parties at some fancy-schmancy location. Last year, they tried dividing up the departments, putting each department in charge of it's own, individual party. A bad idea from the onset. It caused a lot of friction (because some departments have bigger budgets than others) and frustration (because some people don't like the people in their own departments. How can you expect to get all decked out and fabulous, then party with people you don't like?) Anyway, we were all relieved to hear that the party was combined and that we'd all be together. Then, the date began to ring true for me: I can just see it now...me, riding up the elevator on December 19th (my 37th week of pregnancy...month 9) in my most fabulous maternity evening wear, complete with glittering accessories and hair to die for. Just as we approach the seventeenth floor, my water breaks and hubby has a panic attack. We quickly push the main floor button, but not before getting to the 23rd floor where meandering guests get a nice view of a woman who looks like she's just peed all over herself. Lovely! And, of course, to complete the evening, the weather will decide to act fruity and dump 6 or 7 inches while hubby flies at 90 miles an hour to our hospital, located thirty miles away.

I'm so positive today! I guess deadly sins will do that to a person.

November Christmas

It's wonderful to have a mother who is so giving. Last week sometime, I was persuing the Dell site, looking at their laptops. When my maternity leave begins, I will be given a loaner from office to work on. I figured that, once I had it, I would get so spoiled to having a computer to work on in bed, on the couch, in the kitchen that it would be really hard for me to go back to hiding in the basement on my office computer. Okay, not hiding exactly, but basically chained to the computer downstairs, away from all civilization. My mother called a few days before to say, "Do you want your Christmas money now or at Christmas?" At the time, I told her that I like having things to open on Christmas day, even if it's just an envelope with a check. She said that she would save it until then (a check for me and a check for hubby).

So, I'm playing around on the site and they've got this great deal on their 1200 Inspirons (including a wireless card). I call her up and ask the most uncomfortable question of my life, "So mom, I know this is really weird and so wrong, but how much were you planning on giving me for Christmas, cause I'm looking at these laptops on the Dell site and the prices are really great." Then, she's like, "Really? How much?" So, I tell her. Then she says (to my utter surprise), "Well, go ahead and order it and get me one, while your at it." She dictates her card number to me over the phone and I place the order.

I am currently typing on said laptop right now and what a beautiful thing! Yes, I know I must be terribly behind technology wise but, what a way to catch up! (and I didn't even have to pay for it). Woohoo! Okay, so I did shell out the $50 for the wireless router, but big deal, right? That was actually a bit of a headache...2 hours on the phone with tech support, trying to get it to work with my modem (the problem was that it was super slow. Web pages were taking 7 to 8 minutes to load. Not good). Once that was taken care of, everything was gravy.

Speaking of Christmas, I started my Christmas shopping a couple of weeks ago (hey, I may be in the hospital by Christmas, so best to get it done and out of the way, right?) I only have my hubby and daughter left to shop for (hubby being the hardest, since he's the shopper and usually has everything he wants anyway). One thing that he wants that I know he won't be able to get is Palmer's Black & Beautiful Cocoa Butter Dip. He loves that stuff! We had a store that carried it here for really cheap, but then they went out of business. I bought them out, but now our supplies are almost depleted. I'll be ordering him buckets of it for Christmas. My best friend is in love with their Shea Butter Dip. She says, "It's the only lotion I've been able to put on in the morning and still not see "ash" by the end of the day." I wish this stuff were in more stores here, but that's asking for way to much.

Lastly, I've been coughing something fierce for the past few days. The strange thing was that I felt fine besides the incessant coughing. Then, the coughing became painful - not in my throat, but in my abs. Everytime you cough, your abs contract and being nearly 8-months pregnant, with my abs stretched to capacity, this was not a pleasant sensation. In fact, it got so bad Friday that everytime the baby moved, it felt like pins stabbing me from the inside. My stomach was so sore, I just couldn't take it anymore. So, I called my doctor and he prescribed a Z-pack (antibiotics) and cough medicine. I picked up the meds after work and, $33 later, headed home. After setting up the laptop, I took the meds and felt an immediate difference within the first half hour. It was amazing! Could I really have some sort of infection? Tonight, I started coughing and took the cough meds (I had them earlier with fairly good results), but this evening, after the antibiotics, the same thing. I feel loads better. It's that situation where you don't realize you've felt bad, until you start feeling better? I'm so glad I called!

I was surprised as well because the cough medicine has coedine. I'm only taking a teaspoon a dose, but coedine? I didn't know that it was okay but, perhaps because I'm so far along and the dosage is so small, it's okay to take. I gotta say, though, I was too thrilled because it knocked me out and I slept better than I've slept in days.

So, I'll play on the laptop a bit more before turning in. My hubby's convinced that he won't get any time from me, now that I have it. Not a chance! :-) He's still number one at the top of my "Cool" list.

My Sister, My Soror

This past weekend was my alma mater's homecoming. I would link to the page, but I'm so embarrassed by the new design that I've chosen not to. It was great site before...now it just looks cheesy. Ughh! (Okay, so I went back and linked to it anyway...after all that, some may want to see it.) Anyway, my sorority sisters planned an event in honor of all the homecoming festivities. Several years worth of lines came out, as far back as 1975 so I'm told.

A little history - My mother is a Delta, so I've heard about Deltas most of my life. I equated them with class, style and intelligence. Because I was such a big fan of my mother's, I figured I'd be an idiot not to pledge and follow in her footsteps. I came here to Utah, the summer before Rush, and worked my butt off to raise the money to pledge. Rush came that fall and I was sooo nervous, but I was granted an invitation to join. Granted, an invitation doesn't mean that you can be a member, so I still had major anxiety. I've said in my 100 things about me that I'm a born leader, but know how to follow, right? Well, after the many weeks of drama, stress and pressure from pledging, I finally crossed the burning sands and rejoiced in my victory. Little did I know how much work would be involved afterwards.

Our line was in crisis from the beginning and our chapter had been put on probation. Many of the girls on my line were graduating that spring and many more the year after. We needed desperately to bring a line over before there was no one left to do it. So, here we are on probation with a huge, University checklist to complete before we could do anything. Then, with our regionals, they had their own demands. I was financial secretary at the time, so my role wasn't huge, but I put in my hours. Believe that! Workshop after workshop, form after form, we crossed all our "t's" and dotted all of our "i's" in hopes of being able to call ourselves an "active" chapter.

Now, with all these women - their idiocyncracies and varying personalities, things could get really intense between us but, we were a family and we always managed to work through our issues. When the seniors graduated and elections were held again, I was totally surprised when I was nominated for president. At first I thought, "They aren't fooling me. I know there's just no one else who wants to do it," but then, I found, I wasn't running alone. I then figured, "Hey, maybe they know something I don't. If they have that much faith in me, I should probably have that faith in myself." So, I became president. Our VP? A girl I got along with, but we never really saw eye-to-eye.

It worked out well and much better than I ever anticipated. Because we didn't have a lot in common, she kept me on my toes and forced me to see things from a different point of view. There were many times when she would frustrate the hell out of me, but we'd push forward and get the job done. One trait we did share was our drive to complete things. We never let anything sit and I'm sure that's what got us off of our probation so quickly. We had a really good year together and finished up all of our requirements (including hundreds of service projects, which were really the best part, in my opinion), so that we could successfully bring over a fresh line the spring of our senior year.

Most of my sorors live within, no more than a 200 mile radius of each other. They find time to get together for lunches and dinners and I truly miss that camaraderie. I would have loved to have been there with them, but in my present condition, it wasn't happening. The VP of our line did send me pictures, which really made me miss them more. I thought about how different we probably all are, after ten+ years. The pettiness factor that can be so prevalent through young people would be virtually nonexistent now, and we could really enjoy ourselves without all the drama. As I scanned through more pictures, I was also surprised to see how we'd aged. Some well, while others, not so much. Mortality certainly catches up with you. One of the things I know blows their minds is that I'm a mother. Not because I didn't seem capable of being one in college, but because I'm not maternal at all. So many of my sisters had that in spades and, indeed, became mothers. The ones who aren't are nursing or teaching (close enough).

It will be 2007 before I can join them for any sort of homecoming event and I'm sure things will have changed even more. I hope they keep up with the communication. You know, there's really no excuse with all the methods we have now.

Memories - (a) I'm a Delta so, yes. I partied (but not well). I've always been one that needed to go to bed. When we'd throw parties, they didn't really get crunk until around 12:00 am (way past bedtime). So, I'd work the door, then go mingle and greet, then come back to the door. By 3:00 am (last call), I'd be barely conscious. It was pitiful! We'd count up the money, I'd go back to my room (dorm room, yes), shower off the smoke and weed smell, then crash. I'd be no good the next day, walking around in a daze. I preferred our parties on Fridays so that I could have Saturday to be a zombie, but they were usually Saturday night. Then, I'd drag my 3 hours worth of sleep butt to church on Sunday. Not good.
(b) I had sisters who could drink a sailor under the table. They'd carry big gulp cups around filled with some sort of scary concoction, then pass out at the first available room (also, not good). I can remember one of my sisters calling me at about 1:00 am on a Saturday (you know I was sleep) asking me to go and get, we'll call her "T", "She's been drinking since 6 this evening and nobody can get her to go to her room." So, I drag myself out of bed and find her staggering around the dorms, looking like a typical drunk and convince her to take her but back to her room. "T" is now a professional who is married, owns a home, has a daughter and is pregnant with her second. When she's not working at her full-time job, she teaches aerobics. My, how things change!
(c)My best friend never pledged a sorority, but she became a Delta by association. If we were out together, people just assumed that she was. She was always quick to let them know that she wasn't, for fear someone might try and test her with some secret or something. It had it's benefits for her because she adored the Ques (Omega Psi Phi) and hugs are given out liberally from Ques to Deltas. She considered making a pin that said, "I"m not a Delta, but I'll take a Que hug." It was because of this association that she let go of her fear of college parties and started going with me.

Anyway, we decided to go to this party together at this hole-in-the-wall club, not far from campus. In fact, I think we walked there. The club probably had 800 square feet total, including the bar, dance floor, dj booth and surrounding tables. My guess is that we had broken all the fire codes because there were soooo many people inside. Everyone was pressed up against each other and sweaty as hell. We were having a fine old time when suddenly (you guessed it!) someone decided to come up in there and start shooting. So, I did what any sane black woman would do. I headed under the table with my friend. As we waited for the door to clear, we looked over to see another guy under the table with us. We were like, "This is so crazy! Do you think they got him?" He was like, "I don't know." Then we started wondering about the security and where the bouncer was, then he busts out, "I am the bouncer." We laugh about this, even to this day.

Doctor's Visit - Decisions, Decisions

I just came from my doctor's visit. This was my glucose test visit, where they check to see if I have gestational diabetes. I had to eat my lunch directly before the visit, then get my blood drawn. Normally, they have you drink this god-awful orange drink (looks kinda like Fanta but trust me, it doesn't taste like it) then sit for 20 minutes, then take your blood. I'm so glad he did it this way. My palate can only handle so much these days and that orange stuff would make anyone vomit.

Anyway, the visit started off with the normal weigh-in. Oh my dear Lord! I nearly had a panic attack when I saw where the scale went. Let me just put it this way; I've got a lot of work to do when this is all said and done. I'm only 5'2 for God's sake! They went forward by taking a "sample", then checking my blood pressure. Next, it was time for the blood draw. My doc came in and asked me if I'd had a flu shot and I haven't. My plan was for me to get mine with my doctor, but I figured, "If they're poking me anyway, might as well get it done now." He told me that if everything was normal with the glucose test that he wouldn't go over my results until the next visit; but, if there was a problem, he would call (translation, a nurse would call - I'm no idiot. I know how this game works).

He goes on to say that my urine is clear (lovely), my weight is good (oh, really?) and my blood pressure is terrific so, he doesn't forsee me having the problems I had with my last pregnancy. He did say, however, that he wouldn't be opposed to inducing my labor a week before my due date. I am absolutely not for inducing. I had to go through that the last time and I would much rather my labor happen naturally. I'll suffer through being miserable, unless I absolutely have to be forced to deliver. He also said that if I got a bit of toxemia or anything, I may have to go on bed rest or stay in the hospital, depending on what happens. I'm glad that I thought of those options when drafting my maternity proposal. Now, I've got to figure out how to get a wireless connection so I don't absolutely lose my mind if they do put me on bed rest.

Nursey dear comes back after the doc leaves and gives me the flu shot. My daughter was mortified, whinning and shivering the entire time. Fortunatley for her, they couldn't give her one in my ObGYN office. She'll have to wait...but her butt is still going to get one. It's kind of ironic because I have always been against these shots. Flus are viruses and viruses mutate from person to person. True the general strand stays intact, but the mutations are uncontrollable (which is why, boys and girls, we do not have a cure for the common cold yet). I figure, why go through the process of getting a shot when I could still get a mutated version of the one that's currently out? Well, being pregnant has changed my mind for the moment and I figure, better go ahead with it and at least protect the baby, if nothing else. It wasn't so bad and I was glad to hear it's a killed virus (less likely to feel sick side effects).

So, what are the decisions? While the doc was talking to me, I had my normal two questions I come with. This week, I asked about a back-up plan if I were to suddenly go into labor at work. My HR manager was concerned about using the hospital close by the office, rather than my hospital of choice. So, I'm asking my doctor about it and he says, "Are you planning on me delivering your baby?" I wanted to say, "What the hell? Why do I come to you every few weeks if I'm not planning on you delivering my baby?" but instead I say, "Well, that's the plan..." (in my most cute, sarcastic tone). Then he says, "Because, I don't deliver at McKay Dee (my hospital choice) only Davis (the hospital I've only heard horror stories about). The reason being is that I can't be in two places at once." Well, alrighty then! So, then I say, "Then, I guess I'm delivering at Davis," and he says, "That's good. You'll like Davis." Hmmm....

I can still change my mind about this, I know. I went to McKay Dee to have my down syndrome ultrasound check and it was lovely! It's newer and the facilities are fantastic! What I've seen of Davis looks like something out of a horror movie (Think Halloween 2 and Jamie Lee Curtis running for her life through what should be a modern day hospital in the 1970's...creepy). Okay, so I haven't actually been inside and I'm making my judgements strickly from what I've seen on the outside, along with what other mothers have said. But if I do change my mind, then some random doctor will deliver my baby. What to do, what to do. I'll talk to hubby about it, of course, and a couple of other mothers that I know delivered up here. I just want to give this baby the best start possible. My first had it so rough, I've done everything I could to make this pregnancy better.

Halloween and Other Incidentals

So, the Halloween potluck at work was a huge success! It was a chili and chowder theme. One employee actually brought a very decent Jambalya. The crock-pot was scraped clean, by the time I got up for seconds. Our committee went out-of-control on the decoration front, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. I came as Lily Munster, complete with raven black, silver-streaked tresses, over the top makeup and flowing black cape (which I made). I managed to snag a fourth-place costume prize. Our winner? Someone actually came as Beauty and the Beast's Mrs. Potts. It was pretty cute and she deserved her winnings. She, like myself, got the bulk of her costume from eBay. Oh, what did we ever do without it! I'm such an addict.

By the end of the day, I was completely exhausted. I don't know why it's so hard for me to remember that, when you carry a baby, you just don't have the same kind of energy. I really thought I was going to pass out at my desk. People who saw me the next day even commented on how tired I looked. Damn, if I looked tired through all that war-paint on my face, that's really saying something.

On the home front, I got the little one home and into her Pegasus/Unicorn costume. She was so excited. Then, dad put on his. What a brave man! Actually, I thought he made a rather hot Batman...too bad I was too tired to do anything...(It's not typical that I show pictures of my family or anyone, because I'm so paranoid. I figured since dad was in a mask, it would be okay.

That's something that I haven't really discussed on this site: Why is it that on the Ebonyenchantress page I have some pictures, but the faces are blurred out and on the New Dawn site, I don't have any pictures? The answer is simple and complicated. My name. My name is so unique and so different that when you google it, everything about me pops up (well, the few public items that I have out there pop up, anyway). No, it's not ghetto fabulous and it's not famous (well, my maiden is in the music world, but not my first name), but I'll tell you...I've never met anyone with my name. So, because of everything I talk about on the blogs, I figure it's best to keep that piece of information to myself. If you figure it out, all the more frightening because then people will really know how crazy I am. LOL!

The rest of the week has been fairly good, with one little episode; I had another one of my meltdowns Tuesday night with my hubby. I basically told him how much I hate his hours (which, he already knew) and how much I hate that he's away so much (no news flash there) and finally, how out of control I feel about my emotions right now, especially in regards to my paranoia with him. I'm really worried about how I'll feel when/if he leaves for the academy in Vegas early next year. That's four months with no contact with him, other than phone calls. Four freaking months! What the hell are we supposed to do? It's not like I'll be able to jump in the car and drive the six hours with my five-year old and a new born, whenever I feel like it.

It's really sad because if it hadn't been for the August revelations, I wouldn't even feel like this. I mean, I would miss him terribly, but I wouldn't be second guessing his actions while away. As it is, it's all compounded by the emotions of a pregnant woman and I just hate it! Although I am caring and affectionate, I'm not an emotional person. I don't wear my heart on my sleeve and I use reason and logic to make decisions in my life. That's been completely tossed out the window! I feel like I'm on emotional overdrive most of the time, and there's no way to control it. It's just so frustrating!

Well, there's really nothing I can do about it, is there. We talk and talk and talk and that's all we can do, for right now. His counseling starts up again next week and he's very optimistic. I'm glad that he's taking positive steps, but meanwhile, I feel like I'm always in investigate mode when it comes to him.

Lastly, I'm taking my daughter to see Clifford the Big Red Dog this Saturday. She has no idea she's going and I think she'll be so excited when we pull up and see her favorite red dog. My mother called last night and asked if we were going to see Disney on Ice next week. We thought about it, but hubby determined that the three of us would cost close to $100, and that was money we could use on Christmas, or the baby or any number of debt related items. My mother pipes up, "Well, I'd be happy to pay for the tickets, since I know how much "the babe" loves The Lion King." What?! Well, that was a surprise. So, I guess my little one will have two outings with her mother this month. I suppose this is what will happen when dad is gone...lots of outings to keep our minds off of the fact that he's not around. It's so depressing.

Fall Has Appeared

For the past week, we've been in the 70's (highly unusual weather for us, this time of year). It's been nice, but looking at the changing leaves with spring-like temperatures has been odd. Anyway, today, it hasn't gotten past about 50. The clouds are looming and it's been drizzling on and off all day. Now, it feels and looks like fall. I was having bit of trouble getting into the spirit of autumn, but I'm totally in the zone today (now, if I could just wake up...).

My hubby will be home all day tomorrow, then he's going to a party with the boys tomorrow night. I think he's feeling guilty about going because he keeps talking to me about it and asking me about the things they'll be doing there. Personally, I'm not interested in a bunch of guys getting sloppy, nasty drunk - telling each other, "Hey, man, I bet you can't drink three shots of Jager?" or whatever it is they dare each other to do. He hasn't been out with the guys in a while and I'm happy he has this opportunity for release, but I'm also a little paranoid. With everything that we've been dealing with, the paranoia is going to be there and he knows this. I just hope he remembers what thin waters we're on and he keeps his sanity during his partying. We'll see.

I'll probably hang out with my little one in the evening, maybe find a fall project or something to do with her, so she's not bored. I'm not very maternal, when it comes to things like that. She usually gets stuck doing things with me that I like to do but, she doesn't really seem to mind. Maybe that's her maturity. She even sat up and watched a t.v. show I was watching last night with no complaints. Perhaps it's also the fact that she's spending time with me.

Today, I felt a bit of a foot as I rested my hand on my belly this morning. It was so weird and special. I thought about what the baby was doing, her happiness level in a place so warm and peaceful. I also thought about how she'll look, when she finally blesses us with her presence. When I first saw my eldest, it was magical. I remember thinking, "Man, this kid is her daddy's through and through." She was so, so dark and her expressions were like his but there was no mistaking those eyes. Those were mine. She was absolutely breathtaking, and no one could tell me differently. She had a cone head for about two weeks, but nothing so bad as some of the newborns I've seen. This baby should be just as lovely...I hope. January seems so close and so far.

(How's this for sleeping so hard you don't know what's going on: my hubby came home last night at around 2 am and crashed. At fifteen to 5am, I woke him up (or so I thought), bringing him to the heights of passion. He fell asleep shortly thereafter and I assumed he would remember what happened. When I talked to him later today, he had no recollection...none whatsoever! He said it must have been like having a wet-dream or something and assured me it was no reflection on me...hmm...I don't know about that, but I always remember an orgasm.)

Sisters

There isn't a whole lot going on, right now. Just plugging away at work and trying not to strangle my out-of-state co-workers who don't seem to have a clue about what's going on. Last weekend was restful and uneventful. My hubby is still working overtime like it's going out of style. The babe was with me during UEA (sort of like in-service in other states) and we were pretty much tired of each other by Sunday morning. I was glad school was open and back in session on Monday.

I feel like with every passing weekend, I get a little bigger. Before long, I'm going to look like I'll topple over. I'm sure people will stop me in the street to say, "Can I get you a wagon/wheel barrow/shopping cart?" I can't even remember what it's like to be sexified in a dress and four inch heels. Or bust out in the tight jeans that you know make you look like mines would go off. Hah! I guess I won't know that feeling until sometime in the spring of next year (God willing).

I got a note from one of my sorority sisters. It seems they are making plans for homecoming which I will miss out on again. I'm only home (Nashville) every other year and this was my year so, I won't be there again until 2007. I was thinking about where my life might be in 2007; I'll be a mother of, not one but two girls. One will be 7, the other 2 (holy crap!). I will have been married (Lord willing, again) 9 years and in my home (if we're still in Utah) 6 years. I hope I would have changed jobs by then, but if not, I'd be hitting the 6 year mark with them too. Yikes! And, I would be 32 years old. Seems like a lot for a 32 year-old, but I still haven't done everything I want to, yet. I miss my sorors, but I think I couldn't handle being up under them all the time. There were 18 of us and that's a lot of estrogen and female drama. Granted, we are older but some things never change.

I also thought about what it would be like to go and see them if my family and I have moved to Vegas by then. Would I be different? Would a new city change me even more than I've already changed? Could I relate to them anymore? When I met some of them for lunch this past summer, it was so nice but there were things I just couldn't relate to anymore (and a lot of things I didn't want to). We (black women) have a tendency to be very closed-minded about the world. Because I didn't grow up and stay in one place, my outlook is so different. When they showed no tolerance with something, I couldn't understand why.

We're getting ready for our Halloween potluck at work and people are buzzing about what to wear and how to dress up on Monday. My costume is done, except for one minor detail. I was running ideas in my head about make-up and how to pull it off. I think I'll get up earlier that morning, just in case I have to sandblast my face and start again. It's fun to stray from the norm and I'm looking forward to being resident photographer that day. I'm also bringing my speciality - Kahlua cake...yum!

Surprise! I'm Home!

Thursday of last week went by pretty fast. I spoke to my hubby at around 1:00, who had finished his in-person interview and was feeling pretty confident. He said that he was going driving, then would hit the grocery store to pick up items for the hotel room. His plan was to leave Friday morning, first thing (around 5 am). I was happy that there would be only one more night to be without him.

Thursday night, I'd gotten me and the babe all settled in for the night. She was watching a Scooby Doo movie and I was in my room, watching a horror (hey, it's horror season, so I'm going to wear them out if I can). After a while, she comes running into the bedroom:

"Mama, come in the living room. I've got to show you something."
"-----, I don't have any clothes on."
"Just, please come into the living room, okay?"

So, I get myself up and head down the hallway. When I turned the corner into the kitchen, there was my hubby. I was so excited! He had parked in the driveway, so as not to give himself away (usually, I know he's home when I hear the garage door opening and the door from the garage to the house banging open). Once he parked in the driveway, he came in through the front door and quickly hushed up our daughter, so he could surprise me. It was a good trick, considering our five year-old has trouble keeping secrets.

He brought home plenty of souvenirs and gifts for both my daughter and I, then more goodies for my mother and sister. He also bought himself two suits (he's never owned a suit in his life! I can't wait to see him in one). They're gorgeous and look like they were tailor made (I'm sure he had to have an alteration or two for his size). He also dumped out the goodies from the sex store. Of course, our daughter caught sight of one and quickly asked, "What's that, mommy?" "Why can't I see it, mommy?" "Is it a toy?" Boy, oh boy. The older they get, the more inquisitive. We quickly hid "the toys" after the inquisition.

Friday would have been really nice, if I could have stayed home with him. He worked on things around the house, then had to leave for work. Saturday, we ran errands together and had a wonderful time just being in each other's company. I'm not sure what happened Sunday, but when I came back from church, he was sure in a mood. I woke him up and apparently too early because he was grouchy and snappy. Then, we spent the next several hours not speaking to each other. He slept on the couch most of the day, while my tired butt tried to entertain our little one. She mainly watched movies and brought me "poems" she was writing (she doesn't actually write them, but more or less reads in her mind what she thinks her scribbles say). Sometimes, the scribbles rhyme.

Monday was better and we talked on the phone a bit. I guess maybe, we'd spent to much time up under each other over the weekend. It happens...your space is compromised and you start feeling claustrophobic. That's the only thing I can think of. I know I'm extra needy these days, so maybe he just really needed a moment. Whatever it was, I'm glad the mood/funk didn't last long. In fact, I stopped by a couple of stores after work yesterday and got fussed at when I got home for not answering my phone. So, needy is needed by the needy too.

Talk to me, Baby

I spent 3 hours on the phone with my husband last night. Three! I can't believe it. We talked and talked and talked until I finally had to say, "It's midnight, honey and I have work tomorrow." It still took another fifteen minutes to say goodbye (we are so pitiful!). Only two more nights like this, then he'll be home. I really miss him and he obviously misses me.

I started to think about what attracts people to certain people. We have to begin with looks because, you can't very well through your brain on a table and tell someone you're interested in, "Investigate this and get back to me when you're done. Should we hook up?" Nope. It's all about the face and the body for the first impression. When I was in college, I was petite but curvy. I'm mostly muscle (not gross muscle, the tone kind) so, I could carry around 145 and it appeared to be 125 on me. I have been very fortunate in that respect my entire life. Of course, my hubby was hooked by the curves and the chest (he's a breast man), but also the fact that I was the center of the crowd. I suppose that's the closest thing to my brain-on-the-table theory as you can get. My personality came through, just with that one, brief situation.

For me, it was his damn hot body and the way he ate ice cream and fruit. Seriously! It was like someone crafting something. He had it down to an art form! Later I learned that the ice cream and fruit were his "practice pieces". Amazing! (It's good to be the fruit). Now, of course, I know him better than anyone and vice versa. The nice thing is that we're still discovering things about each other and I suspect that's what keeps the marriage from getting bland. When we were getting his oil changed Sunday, the tech guy says, "You two sound like an old, married couple." Then, I said, "Eight years coming up." Damn. Eight years...it was weird hearing it out loud. My hubby gave me a look that told me he was thinking the same thing.

With the stats the way that they are now and people divorcing at the speed of light, I feel really lucky to have my hubby and the time we've invested together. I hope we can beat the stats and prove that our society hasn't just given up on committed relationships. Who really knows what the future holds but, that is what I wish for.

"We all sleep alone." - Cher

Sunday was one of the best days me and my family have had for months...and we didn't really do that much. My hubby was home by 3:00 am Sunday morning and his "fear" was magically gone. He woke me up and we spent the next hour and a half in bliss. Sleeping in would have been terrific if our daughter hadn't kept coming in, waking us up every twenty minutes. I finally got up, got her some fruit loops and a movie, then came back to bed. By 9:30, we were up and getting dressed. We drove to my girlfriend's house in Salt Lake and dropped off the babe, then we headed to the Utah Massage College for a couple's massage. Unfortunately, the wait was listed as one hour and a half, so we headed out (who wants to sit around that long, only to wait an additional half hour for someone to come down and get you..."Not I, said the cat").

We ended up at the movies and saw Serenity. It was fabulous! (One of my coworkers lent me the series Firefly about two weeks ago and begged me to watch.) I was hesistant, since Sci-fi is more up my husband's ailey, but gave in and watched the only season it was on the air, with three unaired episodes in the collection. I was hooked! By the time the movie was released, I had invested myself into the characters and needed desperately.

Hubby didn't get to see the shows with me, but felt like he could follow the story okay. He liked it, but not nearly as much as I did. Afterwards, we went to get his oil changed. Sounds exciting, I know, but it was nice to have thirty minutes or so just to talk. When the car was finished, we picked up the babe and headed back to our city. Everyone was so tired, so we all took a nap...well, the babe took a nap. I took advantage of my hubby's new-found courage and ravaged him for an hour. No time to pass out, we took the babe to see the Wallace and Gromit movie (which turned out to be really cute).

We picked up dinner at Noodles & Company, then headed home. That evening, after the babe was tucked into to bed, we watched the recent version of The Amityville Horror. I read the novel back in Elementary and loved the original movie. This was well done, with some changes made that I thought were unncessary and some that were perfect. I was pretty well freaked out by the time we went to bed, but happy I didn't have to sleep alone.

Monday was emotional and heart-renching. Hubby was leaving for Vegas and he was so not "feeling it" anymore. He kept saying how he wished we could go with him, regardless of the fact that he was so excited a month ago. He also said that, although it is probably his favorite city, he just didn't want to exprience it again without us. He called several times during the day and I called him last night. He was trippin' over his room because of all the mirrors:

"Honey, the bed headboard is a solid mirror across the wall, there are mirrors on the side and there's a mirror over the bed."
"So, what are you wearing?"
"Nothing...and I'm starring at a dark, bald man with a hard...too bad you're not here"

We were on the phone for about forty minutes, when my calling card ran out. It felt like when we were going together and talked all the time. It helped me sleep then and it helped me fall asleep last night. I suspect we'll have to do this until he gets home. Even though he's normally not there at night, it's so different when he's completely out of town. This is also the longest we will have been separated (before, it was my three-day stint back home to Nashville for my bestfriend's wedding, back in July).

I'm trying to occupy my time, but I think about him a lot. He said that he thought about me the entire ride down to Vegas (about five hours with an hour gained PST, once you hit the Nevada border). In some ways, I do hope he does well on his testing and in others, I hope he doesn't. I don't know if I'm ready to live in the desert and leave behind seasons, the mountains and my mother. Growing up in L.A., I didn't have seasons and it was fine, but once we moved to the southeast and I got a taste of what the weather is supposed to do, I loved it! Also, my daughter and my mother have a great relationship. My grandmother and I were practically strangers, until we had to move in with her for a while. I learned to really like and love her and I'd hate to see my daughter and mother become strangers (my mother likes to travel, but she hates the heat). I don't think she'd make visits very often. Finally, the Wasatch Mountains are magnificent! They bring me such comfort and are so beautiful. I'd hate to leave them, too.

I suppose we'll have to wait and see what happens. If things go the way he wants them to, we'll have to sell our house and uproot our entire lives...I really enjoy stability, but I'm not afraid of change. It's the damn moving process I don't like. Ugh! Even thinking about it depresses me. Packing, wrapping, shifting, lifting...I'll shell out the money to pay for a moving company, this time. Hmm. I guess, if I'm talking about moving, part of me has already accepted that I may have to. How about that...

Police Escort, Please...

Hubby did not sleep all day yesterday, which means he had been awake since 6:00pm Wednesday. When we got home yesterday, he was awake, sweeping the floors. Okay, so I have no problem with my man cleaning, but omigod! What was he thinking? We went into our bedroom to chat and he proceeded to pass out. He slept for about twenty minutes, then woke up. We chatted some more and I went on and on about how I was still in need of more, at least where intimacy is concerned (oral is great and we do that all the time, now but he seems to be getting the bigger end of the stick since it is his fetish). Anyway, after I "made him feel like a man", he passed out again. This time, for about 30 minutes. By then, it was 8:30, so I woke him up for work. He got dressed, kissed me and the babe goodbye then left.

This morning at around 2ish, I woke up briefly and thought I had to go to the bathroom. I did, but decided it wasn't worth getting out of my warm bed and I figured I could hold it until 4, so back to sleep I went. A few minutes later, hubby crawls into the bed. I was like, "what the hell? Where did you come from?" He began to tell me that he headed to work, barely able to make it there due to falling asleep at the wheel every few minutes. He was like, "I think I almost hit other cars and trees about fifteen times last night". Then, once he got to work, couldn't function enough to get any work done. So, someone from work drives him home in his car, while a patrol car escorts them both here. Crazy! Of course, he didn't call me and tell me what was happening, he calls my mother. So, when I get to work, she's all, "How is your husband? He called me at around 1:00 to tell me he was getting a ride home, but he didn't want to worry you." Didn't want to worry me? I just don't understand the way men think, I guess.

So, today he's calling his doctor about the sleep results to see what the hell is going on. If there's a temporary solution (like medicine), he's going to go for it (Thank God, cause I don't know how much more of this I can take). He works from 2:00 this afternoon till 6:00 am tomorrow morning. Then, he goes back in at 10:00pm tomorrow night and gets off at 2:00am Sunday morning. This is insane! I know he's trying to save money for the baby, but my goodness! I work too. He doesn't have to try and manage everything by himself. Talking to him about this subject is like talking to a deaf person looking the other way. It's futile! At least he sounded better after sleeping most of the morning and part of the afternoon. I knew graveyard shift would do this to him again. He just didn't listen...

Tagged by "God's Child" - Six Things Survey

Browsing through the blog world, I saw this on a site and thought I'd partipcipate. Here goes!

6 Things Survey (I love these):

Things I want to Do:
1. Learn to play the guitar...well.
2. Finish learning Italian (and maybe Spanish too)
3. Have enough money to buy my hubby and little ones something extravagant and not feel guilty for doing it.
4. Have enough money to buy msyelf something extravagant and not feel guilty for doing it.
5. Travel outside of the country
6. Work somewhere that I totally love and could do for the rest of my life.

6 Things I Can Do:
1. Play the violin...well.
2. Charm the pants off anyone!
3. Bake the most amazing Kahlua cake you ever tasted, even me (and I hate chocolate cake).
4. Swim
5. Make people feel at ease in even the worst situations.
6. Remember by imprinting (when I'm not pregnant, my memory is amazing).

6 Things I Can't Do:
1. Be in small spaces for too long (I'm a touch claustrophobic)
2. Blatantly lie (It's just easier to be honest). Besides, I'm no good at lying. Never have been.
3. Let go of all the past BS that has intruded on me and my hubby's intimacy (I had one boyfriend who really screwed with my mind) I'm doing a lot better in my old age.
4. I can't go back to the south...I just can't do it.
5. Be purposefully hurtful. I have friends who have no problem telling people like it is, despite the person's feelings. I just always think of how I would want to be told things (but I am, by no means, a wuss).
6. force myself to be kind to hateful people. I just try to avoid them entirely.

6 Things That Make Me Attractive To The Opposite Sex:
1. My bodacious tatas (even after the reduction, I'm still a force to be reckoned with at 34 D).
2. Coke-bottle/Hour-glass body (when I'm not pregnant, that is)
3. Sex appeal (I'm no raving beauty, but I've got that in spades)
4. Happy disposition
5. My acceptance of me ( the men I have been with and have known have always appreciated that I'm comfortable with me and don't feel a need to conform).
6. Still cute, despite no make-up (I leave the war paint for special occassions, only).

6 Things I Say All The Time:
1. What the crap?
2. Freakin' (as in, "He's a freakin' moron")
3. What the hell?
4. Holy cow! (I attribute this to living in Utah far too long)
5. Trifling
6. "You just earned yourself a Jackass award!" (I usually say this to the idiots that cut me off or do something generally stupid on the road, which is pretty much daily)

6 Celebrity Crushes (in no particular order):
1. Wesley Snipes
2. Mickey Rourke (circa 91/2 Weeks and Wild Orchid)
3. Bruce Willis (I know, he's old enough to possibly be my parent, but I just love the way he smiles that crooked smile of his)
4. Vin Diesel (he's not cute in the traditional since, but he has that "something")
5. Dwayne Johnson (better known as "The Rock")
6. Christian Bale (even before Batman, I thought he was hot)

6 People I'm Tagging:
1. You
2. and
3. anyone
4. who
5. will
6. answer

Little Sleep, but Okay

Yesterday, I had a well-mommy visit with my ObGyn and hubby went with me. When we arrived, my nurse nearly flipped, yelling, "The other half! The other half! We never see the other half!" I guess mommies-to-be rarely come with their significant others. Hubby has wanted to join me for every visit, but hasn't been able to. I think he was a bit embarrassed by all the attention, but glad he could come. The doctor even seemed pleased to see him.

The doc broke out with the tape measure to measure the belly this time...a sure sign that I am on my way. The heart beat was right there with no searching on the doctor's part. My next visit will involve a "cheat" gestational diabetes test. I was thrilled to hear that he doesn't do the "yucky soda" version. That stuff is horrible! Instead, he has you schedule the visit just after you eat, then takes your blood to test the sugar levels. Sounds good to me! Anything to avoid that gross stuff. (For those who don't know, the sugar test usually involves one drinking an orange "soda" of sorts that's extra sweet. Now, normally, extra sweet doesn't bother me, but this stuff is in a class all by itself. It's horrible! You drink it at the speed of light, then wait a half hour for it to hit your bloodstream. After sitting there with that terrible taste in your mouth, you go in and get your blood drawn. Many a mommy has said they've thrown up from that stuff. I came close, but managed to hold it down).

Afterwards, hubby went to Michaels, of all places, to pick up Halloween decorations for the house. We then went to Target for more stuff, then to Mickey D's to pick up dinner. I don't know what those cheeseburgers did, but at 1:00am I was up and in the bathroom. After that, I couldn't go back to sleep. So, I went downstairs and uploaded some pictures online and downloaded new music to my mp3 player. Time well spent, I'd say. (I could have done something productive like organize the file cabinets or something. Yeah, right).

I stayed up and turned off my alarm before it woke up the babe, then got ready for work. It was freakin freezing in our house this morning, now that the temps have decided to drop down into the 30's at night. Hubby said, initially, that he'd wait until after his trip to Vegas to winterize the swamp cooler. Now, he's saying he'll do it before he goes (perhaps, this Saturday). Thank God! I had an extra blanket on the bed and a space heater in the babe's room. Her room was the warmest room in the house, by far! It didn't get cold gradually, but the cold came as a fast drop in temps when a storm blew through yesterday. The mountains are now dusted in snow. It's very pretty and I do like the fall crispness, but I just wish it wasn't so "crip".

Tonight is dance night and the balcony is closed, so I guess I'll take a book to read while I wait for the babe to finish. She really likes it and I'm glad we found one that she likes and is comfortable with. I noticed last week that she was show-boating for the teacher and put herself front and center. The only chocolate child - front and center. I wonder if that's where she'll be during the recital? Oh, recitals. I love recitals. Hers will be in December and, if I'm lucky, they won't have to roll me down the row to my seat just to see her.

The Corn Maze and Other Adventures

The corn maze was just that...a corn maze, but I guess I didn't realize how tall corn actually gets. Man, it was crazy! A lot of fun, at first. We went through and roamed around looking for the check points. Each checkpoint had it's own, unique marking tool so, you couldn't just mark everything up and leave. We initially just went in to roam, then got into the marking stuff pretty good.

There were 6 check points. We had a time finding the last one, but eventually stumbled upon it. After that, we were ready to go. Unfortunately, the maze was not ready to release us. Trail after trail we walked with no entrance in site. Some trails we crossed over several times. I'm sure we ended up walking more than five miles and boy did my body let me know that, that just wasn't okay. The babe kept fussing, "Mommy, why don't you just read the map so we can get outta here." Well, it just wasn't that simple. I knew if I could find a check point, I might be able to get us out. Finally, I found one. We cut through the corn and viola! The entrance appeared. We were so glad to be out of there and out of all that blasted corn. I'm glad we didn't do the Trail of Doom. The babe would have had cardiac arrest for sure (she could hear the voices and sound effects from where we were and was already freaked out).

Once home, we stripped, showered and crashed. It was a hard night. The next day, I prepared the gown for dyeing. It is a double-layered, nylon gown that reaches to the floor. The color was a very bright cherry. The black dye made it a deep purple...pretty, but not the color I was going for. I added dark green and the gown went chocolate. Very nice. I also finished the cape and was totally exhausted! Two little activities and I was ready to pass out. My energy level has dropped again and I know that it's in for the spiral downward from here on out. I keep trying to do what I did before, but to no avail. I've just got to learn to take it slow (but that's so hard for me!). Sunday, I spent most of the day resting, but did put a pot roast in the crock-pot early that morning, then made veggies and rice to go with it that afternoon. Delicious! I love comfort foods and I'm so glad I don't have to deny myself of them this year.