mrtl

Let's Get Something Straight

I learned from Bug. Bug's birth was long, and since it was a planned induction, I was not allowed to eat after midnight the night before. She wasn't born till after 10pm. 22 hours with only ice chips, people. The Donger needs food!

The chances that I won't get online to post a simple, "Heading for the Hospital" post (beware: I've been accused of being "vague" and "ambiguous" in the past, so if there's something short and suspicious, read between the lines) is highly unlikely. I have no intention of just dropping everything and running out the door. Damn the media for promoting this vision of labor that has had me so paranoid that I'm going to be floored by pain and unable to do anything; that's not going to happen either. I'm going to get mister mrtl home if necessary, EAT, EAT some more just for good measure, grab the few last-minute items that are sure to come to mind at this most inconvenient time, hang out with Bug if she's home, try to relax and time the contractions.

So yes, in case you didn't catch on, I am STILL PREGNANT. I just haven't gotten around to blogging today.

Actually, I was up at 1am today -- FUCKING HEARTBURN, Nexium I'd break up with you and kick you in the nuts if time weren't so short -- and out of bed at 2:40. I spent my morning working and continuing the laborious but fun task of visiting each and every post in my archives to copy/paste it into a separate document. I'm making myself a mrtl book by way of back up. I'm in May now, slow only because I'm getting caught up reading through the posts and comments and laughing. Good times. I crashed after Bug headed out the door with mister mrtl.

Three hours later, I am somewhat refreshed but giddy as all get out because I woke up with absolutely no pain. No heartburn, no skull scraping, no back ache. Frida is floating midstream and I couldn't be happier. It was such a nice break from the norm that I forgot that my intention upon waking was to announce that I have indeed reached the GET.THIS.CHILD.OUT.OF.ME.ALREADY stage of pregnancy. (Can you blame me when I spent the wee hours of the morning today with heartburn, back ache and skull scraping??)

I'm allowing myself some time to bask in this good feeling, as surely it will be gone once I start running around the house (cleaning for the cleaners) and painting more of Frida's room. I'll bask some more later when I eat my leftover Burrito de Birria, a scrumptious and spicy concoction that I had last night when we labor-defying daredevils went out for dinner. What? I painted yesterday with no problem. My nerve is coming back. ;)

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Update: Why did I have to look? Today? Child Labor Day. My nerve is cowering in the corner; I'll have to beat it into submission to get more painting done.

Preparations

Being slightly paranoid is like being slightly pregnant - it tends to get worse.
~ Molly Ivins

::tangent::
I've added a link to Every Day's a Holiday! in the side bar (under What Day Is It?). Since I forgot to put these up yesterday, I'll try to keep the list running to midweek. Cushions are always good.
::end tangent::

I've spoken of my paranoia about going into labor at any minute. More on that... Days and random facts are haunting me. Bug was born during the World Series; the Super Bowl is on Sunday ("Disaster Day" - GAH!!!! I shouldn't have looked. It's bad enough it's a Sunday -- hello epidural issues!). Bug was born on my inlaws' anniversary; my mother-in-law's birthday is Saturday. And this stupid poem won't leave my mind...

Monday's Child is fair of face,
Tuesday's Child is full of grace,
Wednesday's Child is full of woe,
Thursday's Child has far to go,
Friday's Child is loving and giving,
Saturday's Child works hard for a living,
But the Child that is born on the Sabbath Day,
Is witty and wise and good and gay!

...and all I can think is, "Please don't let it be Wednesday." Part of me automatically replaces "woe" with "whoa," and then the new problem is trying to exorcise Joey Lawrence. Which is worse?

That said, please keep your fingers crossed for me. After taking it easy all weekend (having few contractions to speak of), working and playing with Bug (yes, yesterday with her was MARVELOUS!) instead of pulling a Superwoman, I am about to venture forth into Frida's room to get painting. I've decided to pack my hospital bag first. You know, just in case. It is "Escape Day" today, after all, and she may be in the mood to celebrate it. If something happens, mister mrtl is home (and awake -- he's on days right now). He'll be sure to keep you updated. He definitely seems to have gotten the hang of adding entries here.

Yes, mrtl is pregnant

So mrtl makes her way to the kitchen from upstairs and I hear the crinkle of plastic...what could it be? Another puff from the crack pipe known as the reece's cup baggie?  Another huff of the sugar cookie elixir? Hmm.  What's that?  The microwave? What's going on here?  Gah! What's that God-awful smell?  Smells like cat shit.  Out comes mrtl to the couch where I'm slaving away on the computer, dutifully researching arcane sports trivia, and down she plops.  Into her mouth goes A SUGAR COOKIE WITH NUKED REECE'S CUPS ON IT!  The humanity.  I'd rather sniff Slava's Big White Butt Hole than ever smell that ungodly concoction ever again.

The End.

Already Counting the Minutes Till He Gets Home

[That would be 506.]

This day is not going well. It started, appropriately enough, right around midnight with a case of reflux that had me awake till 2 -- at least it didn't burn as all getout thanks to the Nexium. It continued when Bug woke up early, before 5 -- at least she was in good spirits at the time; mister mrtl had heard her singing "Bingo" -- including claps -- before he woke me. I didn't get much sleep after that -- at least Bug was sweet enough to hang out on my bed watching none of her usual shows while I made the effort. Then there's the return of the pelvic pressure (aka skull scraping) -- at least I can walk without doubling over this time.

Between the breakfast bar, milk and banana bread that Bug munched on, she wasn't ready for breakfast when the time rolled around. She was more than ready for lunch an hour early. I saw this as a blessing in disguise, that this meant she'd go down for her nap early. With her hunger and fatigue, though, she became an uncooperative, fit-raging monster. She wanted to climb on the couch with me and yell in my ear, getting louder when I removed her from the couch. She did not want any of the lunch options I had given her. She wanted me to carry her downstairs. After not exercising her options, she threw a scene that stunned even me when I sat her down with a hot dog. (Of course, after said hot dog was ready she decided she wanted fish.) I'm not that cruel of a mommy, though. I still made her some corn and got her a piece of bread, but then she wasn't eating the rest of her lunch, instead asking for more bread and then for pudding. Resume impressive fit over that.

Another fit happened upstairs when she first said she didn't want to brush her teeth but then "needed to." Again when she wanted to go to the playroom after brushing her teeth instead of going in for a nap. Louder still as I arranged the blankets in her tent for her.

It wasn't until she lay face down in the tent that all rage melted away. She hasn't made a peep yet, and I'm hoping she'll get some decent rest. The last thing I need is for this to resume after she gets up, when there are still 300 minutes left till mister mrtl gets home.

As it is, the weekend painting plan has been pushed back to Monday. It's the paranoia of setting off labor. Mister mrtl is off on Monday, so I can work over the weekend to have the hours covered and paint while he's around, just in case. My fingers are crossed that work will not include any more saws or white on white (or any same color) image cleanup. I'm right at the edge of losing it, and have been since yesterday afternoon when things were just going wrong, wrong, wrong. I'm not dredging that up now, though. I've found a calmer place and need to stay there.

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Update: The 360 minutes from naptime till mister mrtl got home were Heaven in comparison to this morning. Bug was in much better spirits -- only a couple quickie meltdowns, both easily distracted -- and playful. She played busily at her desk (cutting paper, drawing, coloring, rearranging her shelf, looking at a calendar) while I got more work done (which did include a clamp with a huge threaded screw-type deal, much like cleaning up the hand saw, but for some reason this was more tolerable -- I suppose after the morning I had, focusing on the computer screen was a good thing). Together we read a lot of books, played with her musical instruments and sang (including a full version of "The Wheels on the Bus"), refilled her diaper stacker, and counted out her plastic coins and hunted for the one missing yellow chip. She took a long, early-afternoon bath without incident, even after I accidentally dumped a cup of water over her face. She decided she wanted pizza for dinner, so we ended up staying home and ordering in. Afterwards she jumped on our bed while I folded and put away laundry. Best yet, when she wouldn't come to me for a diaper change (after being told the choice was hers: come now and have time to watch one show or not), she didn't cry or even ask for a show. (This was a shock. Pretty much every night she watches at least one 5-minute segment of Maisy before bed.)

The catnaps I took earlier in the day sustained me, and the relaxation of monotonous work during her nap calmed my nerves. I'm still having a bit of pressure, exascerbated by the sit down/stand up nature of time spent with a toddler, but Bug's sweet disposition made the afternoon.

Now back to work and early to bed, anticipating another early rising for her. Hopefully it'll go more smoothly than today.

Happy Blirthday to Me!

Everyone does the Blogiversary. I'd rather have a Blirthday. Maybe Bug will make a cake with me later to celebrate. [I asked her. She's totally down with that!]

After discovering blogging (via Dooce) in December 2004, I ventured forth into the world of self-examination and exhibition a year ago today with this post.

A year later I feel richer for the experience, not just because of what I've learned about myself in the process, but also because of the many wonderful, caring, talented, and engaging people I've met (be it personally or virtually). I am so fortunate to have landed within such an awesome circle of people. I am grateful for you.

Happy Friday!

Makings of a Very Good Week

In the order received:

1. Hänni is coming to visit!
2. Girl.A has returned!
3. There is decent Italian in Anchorage. Thanks to Danielle for a lovely dinner!
4. Funny. I just ate some pumpkin pie today, so this is true literally, too! Thanks to wordgirl for this link!



find your inner PIE @ stvlive.com

I am taking this as good karma. I need me some good karma to get through the weekend, considering that there's been a glitch in the mister mrtl work situation. As previously mentioned, he was supposed to have on-shift back up starting Saturday. The certification of this colleague has now been moved to Monday. Despite this, I fully intend to paint Frida's room this weekend during Bug's naptime. It would be highly inconvenient if I were to go into labor this weekend.

Whatev, you fucking moron.

Bush: We are going to uphold the law and protect the currency of the American people.

It's all about money, although we knew that already. But what about the deficit?

What a Difference a Day Makes

[Disclaimer: I am not trying to exorcise Frida. Please don't take my choice of categories the wrong way.]

I wrote this yesterday, but hadn't bothered to post it:

I am not at the point where I MUST.GET.THIS.CHILD.OUT.OF.ME.NOW!!!; however, I find myself fantasizing regularly about my water breaking wherever I go. This is making me a paranoid wreck, especially when I realize that I don't have my cell phone with me.

What's different today? I'm still not feeling the urgency that comes from being miserably pregnant as much as that I just want to get on with it. I have to admit this to myself.

I realize that I'm not (physically/logistically) ready for the child. The following things have yet to be done:

• Pack suitcase for hospital.
• Clean out Frida's room.
• Paint Frida's room.
• Get furniture (received today - woot!) into Frida's room from dining room.
• Fold laundry.
• Put laundry away.
• Arrange miscellaneous baby stuff in Frida's room.

I realize that there are some preparations that out of my control:

• Mister mrtl doesn't have easy backup at work until after Friday.
• Mom not here. No contingency plan(s) for Bug (beyond staying with mister mrtl, rather than having mister mrtl with me).

::tangent::
Just to note, we've had several offers for a helping hand here, but I don't feel comfortable dropping Bug on someone who's a complete stranger to her. Sure, she probably won't remember the whole ordeal, but there could be residual resentment towards the baby if such a thing were to occur. I don't want to tarnish things.
::end tangent::

• We have yet to receive the bedding set. (No big deal, really.)

I realize that I should enjoy these final days/weeks (GAH!) of singleton Mommyhood, of the relative ease in getting things done with only one Bug to contend with.

I can't talk myself out of this. You see I'm trying, don't you? DON'T YOU??

I realize what put me in this position today. I received an email from a woman I knew when we were in Texas announcing the birth of her daughter earlier this week. Her due date was February 16. Add to that my recent L&D drama, the regular Braxton-Hicks contractions (they TEASE me, the fuckers), the beautiful, grunting, two-week old sweetie I saw at the doctor's today, and it's a perfect recipe for obsessive thinking.

I realize some readers are currently pregnant for the first time or intend to have a baby at some point. This is where you need to stop reading.

[****ALERT**** I mean it. Stop reading now if you're pregnant for the first time or intend to be pregnant ever. ****ALERT****]

I need help from all the Mommas out there. Help me exorcise these irrational thoughts. Remind me why I should bide my time. I know a couple to start us off.

1. Sore nipples.
2. Sleep deprivation (this is a biggie, and could stand to be repeated, so feel free to paraphrase and detail).

A Most Unpleasant Sensation

No, I'm not in labor.

I have thus far been able to avoid spending any significant time outside in the cold here. While I would like to try out skiing or some other such outdoor activity next year, I'm being prudent while pregnant. My time outside today was all of a three-minute walk from the parking lot to the hospital, nothing to rival Jill's arctic biking adventures (hello frozen eyebrows). In such a short time, though, my slightly runny nose suddenly crackled, frost forming inside from the frigid cold, feeling like a thousand prickley boogers.

On a similar note, as he also posted about the chilly weather, a warm welcome to mister mrtl, who has been set up to add guest posts to mrtland. This was mainly done so he could provide a Frida update to the masses, but I told him he could feel free to blog as he desires.

This could get interesting.

Testing (and Freezing)

Just testing my ability to post...and noting that it's *NEGATIVE 18 DEGREES OUTSIDE!!*