TGIF

I'm sure in the coming weeks I won't have much time to blog while I'm at work, so I'm taking advantage of the light workload now...

It's FRIDAY of my first work week back from leave! Overall it was a good week...my body is very SLOWLY adjusting to this new wake up/sleep schedule...though last night I got stuck watching the Green Mile on TV and I didn't end up closing my eyes until almost midnight. Still, I feel more rested today than I have all week, which indicates to me that my body clock is beginning to reset.

My brother got a job! He is logging out in the woods with an old friend from high school. So needless to say, he has been spending much more time away from our house. I think once he got a taste of babysitting both of the kiddos at once, he was quick to find ANYTHING to get out of here. Too funny! :)

The kids adjusted well to our babysitter. She is a wonderful stay at home mom who takes fantastic care of them. Bryce usually talks all the way home about everything he did at Summer's house. Abbie is all smiles or sound asleep when we get there. We've definitely found a keeper!!!

My housework seems to be falling apart, though...I expected it to happen. I just keep reminding myself that once my body clock resets and I'm more rested, I'll have more energy in the evenings to keep on top of everything.

At least my sink is shiny and my toilets are clean! Thanks to the FlyLady!!! (http://www.flylady.com)

Back to the Old Grind

Well kids, I'm back at work. My maternity leave is up, we ran out of money, so it was time to start collecting a paycheck again. I fought long and hard, but alas, being a stay at home mom at this juncture is just not in the proverbial cards. Boo.

It took 2 days to regain full functionality of my work laptop. It was a rather boring 2 days. Today I was able to get my work done, but since I'm not up to a full inventory yet (which I am NOT complaining about, mind you) I've been done since about 10:30AM. My hours are until 4:30PM. Needless to say, I am aware of every news story going on in the WORLD. Nicole Richie is hospitalized for pneumonia, Michael Jackson's sisters believe he was in denial about his addiction even though they all tried to intervene, and Barack Obama is apparently the worst president ever for bowing to a Japanese leader. Shame shame Mr. President.

Getting my body used to this new schedule is an entirely different beast. My kids generally didn't wake up before 8 AM, so I could go to bed at midnight and, besides the possibility of a brief interruption in sleep to tend to Abbie, I could get close to 8 hours of sleep. I am a night owl by nature, not a morning person at all...so making myself go to sleep by 10PM and get up at 6:30AM has been killing me. Mostly because I can lay down at 10, but it'll still be midnight before I finally pass out. 6:30 comes around much too quickly when 12:00 is the last thing you see on your alarm clock.

Here's to many more sleepless nights!

When It Rains in Washington...

...it pours at my house.

My brother is filing for divorce from his wife. Because I am a good and loving sister, he has moved in with us. Temporarily. But, in the meantime, we have a new roommate...which has caused Bryce to become almost unbearable the last few days. He is SO excited that Uncle Frog is here that he is constantly chattering, constantly asking him to play, to watch him, to do something with him, not listening, and just generally driving me slowly to insanity.

Abbie also senses something's different, so she's gone back to fussiness in the evenings...though I must say, for the most part, she is giving me more rest at night...she's dropped 1-2 feedings most nights, so that lends me at least one 5-6 hour stretch of sleep each night. Hallelujah!

Brett's late nights are creeping up on us again...which means we'll have to have another chat soon....before I get too hostile and go on strike for the umteenth time. :)

I almost can't wait to go back to work. Huh. Never thought I'd say that.

Te Amo

Bryce has been asking me how to say words in Spanish and sign language. So far, the words he's curious about are words I know. I love you, yes and no, mommy/daddy, baby, etc. When I ask him a question, he usually signs yes or no now. So cute! He has also started making up his own signs as he sees fit. He's actually not very far off the mark most of the time. Last night before I left for praise band practice he ran to the door and signed "I love you" and said "te amo". He's so darned smart, sometimes it's scary! :)

Abbie is now 2 months old. She just started powering down 5-6 oz bottles and is going longer stretches at night...I sense a full night's sleep may be on the horizon for both of us. Woohoo!

Nice Weekend

I'm slowly but surely getting the hang of this "two kids" thing. Abbie is beginning to settle into a routine (she eats at about the same time every day give or take 1/2 hour, which makes it easier for my schedule), and Bryce as usual is uber patient with me. He has begun voicing his needs very strongly (and sometimes rudely) though, so that's my cue that I need to pay more attention to him. There were a few times this weekend that I told Abbie she needed to "wait" because I was spending time with her brother...I made a point to make a big deal about it, so Bryce knew that Abbie was taking a back seat to him for a change. It was cute to watch his chest puff out. :) But, he's a great big brother, and is always wanting to hold her or help me when I'm doing something with her.

I found a great preschool activity book in my travels this weekend, so I bought Bryce a pencil box, new crayons and extra large pencils (the ones I remember using in first grade) and told him today that we're going to start "home preschool" tomorrow. He is TOTALLY excited and wanted to start today. But, I really want him to treat it like a mini-school session, so I'm making him wait until tomorrow and we'll do a little bit every day through the week. There are neat "field trip" activity ideas and a good book list too, so we'll probably hit up the library at some point this week too to pick up some of the books on the list. I'm secretly hoping that this will be a way for Bryce and I to spend some good quality time with each other every day, doing something that is both fun and will help him be ready for Kindergarten next year. I just need to remember not to force the issue when he's not into it and get creative on those days. Also, since he and Abbie will be going to a lady's home who does not have a preschool curriculum (she's a very sweet stay at home mama who is not breaking our bank by caring for our kids!), I'm hoping to take the remainder of the workbook to her house for Bryce to finish up with her during the day when I have to go back to work.

Bryce started his swimming lessons last week too. He really enjoys it, though he has a hard time with putting his face in the water. It will all come in time!

Trying Times

Abbie is still a fuss-budget in the evenings...now it starts even earlier. Unfortunately it's very impractical for us to put her to bed any earlier than 7, since dinner is at 6, I'm usually, cooking dinner/eating dinner and Brett is rarely home any earlier than 6:30. So, tonight (as well as a few nights this past week), we have broken down and rocked her, and rocked her, and rocked her to sleep. It's exhausting.

Bryce has the first cold of the new school year. He's not in school. I'm not sure where he encountered this cold, he's been home since Abbie was born...he's having a hard time not touching and kissing his baby, I don't think he fully understands that a sick baby would be a TERRIBLE thing right now...especially considering her nightly fussiness. I feel bad for him, he clearly feels like crap and needs lots of love and attention right now. We try so hard, but he still takes a back seat to the baby a lot of the time. He takes it in stride, he's so laid back and understanding, well beyond his years.

Brett has been particularly grumpy the last few days, as have I. By the end of the work week, sleep deprivation has sent in BIG TIME for me (I'm the only one getting up with the baby during the week, Brett and I alternate on the weekends). Worse, I think I may be getting Bryce's cold, so I'm really dreading next week. And of course, I've already loaded next week down with activities galore. Dentist appointments, swimming lessons starting for Bryce, band/choir practice at church, my 6 week post-partum visit. Good Lord.

After re-reading the above, I've decided I'm going to bed early. Just reading this is exhausting. :)

Princess Poops-A-Lot...

Is Abbie's nickname now. For *hopefully* obvious reasons. Brett assures me he did, but I don't ever remember Bryce's bowels being so...well, active.

She's either got a ripe diaper, or she's working on a ripe diaper. For the first 3-4 weeks, I can count on one hand how many diapers I changed that did not contain solid (or mostly solid) material.

I hope you aren't eating while reading this. My humble apologies if your meal is no longer appetizing.

Abbie now has a fussy time every evening. 7 to 9-ish every night is the time that, no matter, what we do, she just cries. She acts hungry, so we feed her and she rejects her bottle. She seems gassy so we try and pound the gas out of her (we're really quite gentle, honest), nothing comes out. She acts tired, we rock, and rock, and rock her, the minute we stop, she wakes up and...cries (my mom thinks this part is hilarious, because I apparently did this to my dad as an infant, all the time). Then, like a miracle, around 9 or so, she takes her bottle, burps easily and passes out without so much as a whimper. Perplexing. Luckily, this is our second "dog and pony show," so Brett and I haven't tried to kill each other yet. We just pass her back and forth for 2-3 hours until one of us has some success.

Last night, I took a friend's advice and tried to feed and burp her, bathe her and put her down for bed before the fussiness began. And it worked! Here's hoping it works again tonight!

PRAY FOR US! :)

Life With Abbie

My baby girl is almost 4 weeks old...and just one week shy of one month old. She already looks different and bigger to me than she did at birth. She is an extremely easy baby (knock on wood), and though she wakes up very regularly to eat at night, she most always goes right back to sleep. I am able to nurse her and I just get such a rush of joy and love when I am able to cuddle my little girl and stare into her blueberry eyes.

Bryce is very protective of his baby. I've overheard him on more than one occasion telling someone who is looking at her that she is very fragile and they must use hand sanitizer before they hold her. He constantly hugs and kisses on her, and wants to know where she is if she's not right with us. People ask him what he thinks of his sister or if he's a good big brother. I think he's finally getting a little tired of that question, because his answers have gone from an emphatic "yes, I'm a great big brother!" to an almost annoyed "yeah, she's great and I'm great." I think it's becoming very taxing on him to not be the center of attention...at least for now. If I know my boy like I think I do, he'll quickly find ways to steal the limelight from his baby sister in the near future. But for now, he's a least being civil about folks oohing and aahing over his baby.

Brett has told me that Abbie already has him wrapped around her finger. He is so relaxed and natural this time around, so patient with her and still managing to find lots of things to do with Bryce so he doesn't feel left out. He went back to work last week, so I've been flying solo at night, but he's quite the champ on the weekends. Even lets me sleep in from time to time!

Balancing the two kiddos is difficult, but not as hard as I thought it would be. I've learned that as soon as Abbie's done nursing, that's the best time to make meals, take a shower or head off for errands...I have about 2 1/2 to 3 hours before she'll be ready to eat again. I probably put Bryce in front of a movie more than I should, but luckily the sun is still shining and our teachers are still striking, so the neighbor kids and bicycling have kept Bryce occupied while I learn to entertain two.

The Birth Story of Abbie Kathleen Monahan

First of all, allow me to share some beautiful pictures and some stats about my precious daughter. Then I'll get to the "good" stuff (WARNING: I will not get too detailed or gory, but I apologize in advance if I make you feel uncomfortable!)






Abbie Kathleen Monahan was born ON her due date, August 20, 2009 at 8:19PM. She weighed in at 7lb 11oz, is 18.5 in long, and had a NORMAL sized head (I managed to slip by the curse of the "Monahan" head!). From the time they broke my water until the moment she was born was about 7 hours.

On the 19th, I was getting very frustrated with still being pregnant despite the fact we hadn't hit the due date yet. I started having contractions at around 35 weeks, so EVERYONE, including myself assumed she was going to come early. Therefore, at any point before the due date that I started have a twinge of what I thought might be impending labor, I began to get very excited. I would start timing contractions to see if there were any regularity to them, and began really nesting (ie: cleaning incessantly) in my house so I wouldn't have to come back to a huge mess after being in the hospital. Of course, nothing would ever result of these early labor contractions, they would fizzle and I would become a bit disheartened. It became very tempting to try all of those "natural" induction methods you read about and your mommy friends tell you about to get the baby out.

So, again, on the 19th, after having been up 3 nights in a row timing some fairly uncomfortable and somewhat regular contractions, only to wake up in the morning pain free with NO contractions, I was at my wits end. I walked my neighborhood a few times, and we went grocery shopping later that day, where I power walked the aisles. Again, the evening of the 19th, I began contracting, but I was trying very hard not to get my hopes up, as I knew these would likely fizzle out too. But, I hopped on Facebook and chatted with a friend into the wee hours of the morning as we sort of timed them together. Around 4 AM they were anywhere between 4-7 min apart, but were progressively getting stronger and longer. So, I decided I would hop in the bath tub and soak for a little bit...warm water will make them go away if they were not the real deal. I hopped into the tub and had 3 contractions, one on top of the other. So, I called my OB's nurseline and they instructed me to head to Labor and Delivery.

Waking Brett up proved to be more difficult than I had envisioned. He looked at me like I was crazy, like I maybe was believing the contractions into existence, just because he knew how badly I wanted to just have this baby. He slowly got up and got dressed, as I rushed around the house packing all of the last minute things you can't pack until it's time, making contingency plans for Bryce and ensuring my mom (who is staying with us), would have a way down to the hospital come morning. We took off and got to the hospital at around 5:30AM.

They took me into their little triage department first. I don't know if that's standard protocol, of if they did that just because I was able to walk in there on my own volition (I was not going to let the niceties such as a wheelchair ride into the hospital take away from the intensity of these contractions!). They hooked me up to the monitors, and confirmed that my contractions were now about 4-6 min apart, but my blood pressure was through the ROOF! They took it several times and though it came down slightly, it was still elevated. They figured I was likely in that phase between pre-labor and active labor, and would have sent me home had it not been for my high BP (I've never been so grateful for a high reading). I was admitted!

They set me up in a room, which apparently was the last and largest room on the floor (it was like staying in a SUITE!), and then my contractions began to fizzle. So, up walking we went. Contractions came back, would get more intense and regular, and then would fizzle out again. So, again, we would walk. We did this until about 12:30 in the afternoon, with no progress in the dilation/effacement arena. At which point, my OB made the call to have my water broken in order to speed the process along. And boy howdy, did it ever. My water was broken at 1PM.

The first hour of contractions were tolerable. Definitely needed to focus and breathe through them, but they were tolerable. Then out of nowhere, I got hit by a freight train. My mental mantra when they hit was "body like jello, body like jello, body like jello" until I was taken by surprise by the crazy wave of pain and inner wringing out that my body went through. Mom and Brett were quietly watching a movie as I was breathing through them when I began to moan, and breathe heavy. They looked at me, wondering what I needed of them (I had apparently been doing fine on my own and was trying to be Miss Independent prior to this). I grabbed Brett's hand and tried breaking his fingers off. When that didn't work, I said very loudly and insistently "EPIDURAL TIME, EPIDURAL TIME, EPIDURAL TIME" over and over again until the contraction finally eased up on me. Next thing I knew the anesthesiologist was there giving me sweet relief. This epidural's entrance was more painful than I remember it being the first time around, but as they say, it was well worth it to be able to enjoy my labor after that point. I made it a bit longer without pain meds than I did with Bryce, so I patted myself on the back and looked forward.

I was able to labor sitting up, and my epidural was perfect. I could feel pressure, but no pain, and I could still move my legs around. At some point, they had my lay on my left side, in order to help speed up the dilation process, I was almost 10 cm and they were looking for a little quicker way to get me there. Well, that did it. All of a sudden, I had this fear that my epidural had worn off, because I could feel a ton of pressure and though it didn't hurt per se, it was uncomfortable. I had Brett go get the nurse, and sure enough what I was feeling was the urge to push because I was at a 10!!!

The nurses then switched shifts and I had to wait for the new nurses to set up shop and get the resident doctor and my OB in the room. They had me do a couple "practice" pushes, just so I would know what it was I needed to do, and then they immediately stopped me, because she was COMING! The resident donned her mask and gown quickly and the OB finally came running into the room. 3 more good pushes and Abbie Kathleen made her grand entrance into the world. She was wriggling and crying loudly, very unimpressed with the bright lights and cold, but she was perfectly healthy and beautiful. :)

She eats like a champ, and despite a bit of jaundice that required some in-home bililights and a nurse stopping by daily for the first couple of days, all is well. Abbie is a very good-natured baby, actually sleeps at night in between feedings and likes to be cuddled up with anyone who will hold her (rest assured, she's rarely put down between all of us)!

1 week to go...

I am officially 39 weeks today...one week away from my due date. Did you know that only about 5% of births actually occur on the due date? That's why they give you a 2 week window around your due date and call that "full term." For first time moms, they say about 40% of births happen after the due date. I can't seen to find statistics for second-time moms...

My body is making some progress toward going into labor...it's comforting to know this process already so that each symptom isn't freaking me out, however that's a double-sided coin. I also get very frustrated that the contractions I feel aren't leading anywhere. I also don't have an "end point." (beyond the fact that I won't be pregnant forever and she is likely to come within the next two week). You see, with Bryce, I was induced, so once it was decided that I need to be induced, there was an immediate light at the end of the tunnel...within 24 hours, I was holding him in my arms. Not so this time around. I over analyze EVERYTHING, so it probably has to come as no shock to any of you who know me that every agonizing day I'm pretty much hyper focused on the goings-on within my body.

Abbie is still quite the mover, even though she's officially run out of room. She has dropped, her head is engaged, and my pre-labor (false labor, I was told) has progressed me enough that, it LITERALLY could happen at anytime. I'm 1 cm away from being in "active" labor.

And even though I thought I was against it, all of these "natural" inducers are starting to look VERY appealing. :)

The Insanity Must Stop!

So, for fun this time around, I joined up with the August 2009 Birth Club chat boards through babycenter.com. It was a great way to meet up with other moms who were due around my due date, trade stories, share concerns and help each other through these 9, arduous, long months.

However, as we all creep toward our due dates, the postings have gotten OUT.OF.CONTROL. I've noticed 2 distinct types of posts lately:

1) My baby is here! Here is the story!
- for the record, I have yet to read one story to date where a c section or induction was not involved. I was induced the first time around with Bryce. I'm starting to wonder if our bodies have forgotten how to birth babies and we now need medical interventions to get these children out of us!

2) I'm DONE being pregnant, please tell me every symptom I have means I'm in labor, or what old wives tale/witch doctor potion will induce labor on its own.
- though I've tried my best, I became victim to the "it's a full moon tonight and the gravitational pull will make your water break" post. I was so hoping. Alas, here I am still pregnant. If I see one more post about someone taking castor oil 3 WEEKS before they're due and then wondering why all they did was sit on and/or hug the toilet all night long, I might just throw up myself.

Do not get me wrong, I have seriously pondered trying some of these "natural" induction methods, and did go for a walk with my mom around the store yesterday, hoping gravity would just help me out a bit. It's very tempting to help move things along if you can, especially when you're this uncomfortable and the weather has been crazy hot. HOWEVER, there's something magical, dare I say romantic, about letting nature take its course. Waking up in the middle of the night to twinges of pain, waking up your husband and making him time them...heading to the hospital to waddle around the halls in an oh-so-flattering gown (that doesn't close all the way in the back)....ripping his fingernails out one by one once the pain gets so intense that you want to marry the anesthesiologist...and then the grande finale...enter stage left, baby Abbie.

So, as much as I'd like to walk 10 miles, have uber-alone time with my hubby, eat spicy food with fresh pineapple on the side, bounce on a trampoline, etc, I know she will come when she is ready.

And if she's late, I can always ask the OB for an induction. :) Here's hoping my body remembers how to push a baby out of it!

The Downside of a Multi-Doctor Clinic

I love the upsides to multi-doctor clinics. For instance, Bryce sees a primary pediatrician in a clinic full of 'em. So, when there's an emergency and his doc is off, Bryce can still be seen by SOMEONE there and get the care he needs, without me having to swoop him off to the ER or Urgent Care all the time.

My OB's office is similar. I have a primary OB, but in times of emergency, I can see any one of 5 (they partner two offices together in order to have that many on staff). This is nice because, I could really have this baby at any time, and it is comforting to me to know, that, if my OB is not on call, someone from her office will deliver Abbie and will know my chart.

Or so I thought.

Because of my experiences with being pregnant with Bryce and having pregnancy-induced hypertension, I'm ACUTELY aware of signs of high blood pressure and pre-eclampsia (to those of you who don't know, pre-eclampsia is a serious pregnancy complication that can lead to a whole host of problems...usually bedrest and sometimes early induction/C section follow). Last week, I gained 5 lbs in 4 days. That is NOT normal. Normal at this stage is about 1-2 lbs/week. I can assure you that I was not sucking down Tagalong Blizzards and Big Macs (though they are quite tasty). I was also swelling a lot, and Monday morning my eyes were swollen and I was having blurry vision. The weight gain and these symptoms are all signals that pre-eclampsia may be on the horizon.

My OB is on vacation. She will be back on the 4th. So, Monday, I call my OB's office, advise them of my symtpoms and as what I should do. Well, I should come in of course, only the OTHER OB in the office is out too, so I'll need to go to the downtown clinic to see Dr. P. (using abbreviations only to be kind...I'd dime these folks out in a second if I thought anything they did in the following paragraphs was gratuitous and intentional). So, I see Dr. P. Luckily, my BP is normal (GREAT sign), but they want to run some blood labs, so I oblige the vampires.

I receive a call this morning from Dr. P's office. There were some abdormal readings, so they want me to take some more blood tests. This time I ask if I can do them at the clinic near my home and ask what it's all about. THEY DON'T WANT TO TELL ME. I finally prod, and the nurse mentions something about my liver. Fan.tas.tic.

So, I rush into the lab to give the vampires a second helping of my O negative, and then await my 3PM appointment with my OB's partner, Dr. W. Untreated anxiety made today a living hell for me. All sorts of terrible scenarios floated through my head, and it was everything I could do to get through my daily alotment of work.

I get to the appointment, and Dr. W's nurse tells me that he's still in surgery and I'll be seeing the nurse practitioner. Uh, what? I have nothing against nurses, and I know that 9 times out of 10 they've got it figured out before the docs, but THIS is serious...THIS is my liver. THIS could mean inductions or a c-section if it's serious enough...can a nurse make that call?

I wait for about 20 min in the waiting room, and then another 20 min in the procedure room. All of a sudden, the nurse comes in, moves me to a different room and tells me Dr. W is there and can see me. Phew, that's a relief.

I wait another 10 minutes, before Dr W comes waltzing through the door. And he looks at me funny. I would have stood to shake his hand, but I'm 37 weeks pregnant thank you very much, and I don't feel like getting up. So, I wait for him to sit in front of the computer, and check my chart, and ask me why I'm there. EXCUSE ME? I realize you just came from surgery, but the least you could have done was read the notes the nurse wrote on the back of my chart. So, I calmly explain the symptoms I'd had which led to my Monday appointment with Dr. P. He looks at the blood drawn on Monday, and says, "well, it all looks very normal to me..." WHAT? Are you kidding me? "Well," I reply, "they called me this morning and requested that I take more tests, did you get those results?" I haven't seen a blanker stare since I asked Bryce if it was he or the cat the squeezed all of the toothpaste down the sink. "Oh!" He says, as he quickly pulls up my chart on the computer...."yep, those labs look good, too."

Well, then WHAT IN THE HELL did I need to give blood for again? Obviously, if Dr. P thought they were normal, I wouldn't have given more this morning and I wouldn't be here NOW! So, he says, "well, your platelets are a little low...normal is 150 to (some number I can't remember) and you are at 148. That is where you were at on Monday and that's where you're at today."

"So, what does that mean?"

"Well, nothing really. You're just a TINY bit low. It's really nothing to worry about. I'd just keep doing what your doing and see Dr. G (my normal OB) next Wednesday." He listed for Abbie's heartbeat, measured my stomach and then left the room.

I was SO PISSED. Not pissed that Abbie and I are healthy, mind you. I'm very grateful for that.

Pissed that I spent my ENTIRE day, FREAKING out. I had called my mom, and she was seconds from hopping a plane early. Brett was in a PANIC, coming up with contingency plans for his workload should he need to leave early.

So, I called them both, told them we were A-OK, and I was a victim of the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing.

Funny thing is, I betcha I'll get a call from Dr. P's office, wanting to go over my results, and maybe even ordering MORE labs, because according to nonchalant Dr. W, the results from today were the same as Monday.

We'll see how they decide to play this one.

Handwritten Letters

I've determined that a handwritten letter seems to hold so much more weight than a typed one. I'm not sure why, but it's true. When I really need to get my feelings out or a point across to Brett, I write him a letter. I usually write these before he comes to bed and leave them in the bathroom, and then he reads them after I'm asleep. I write them not to point fingers, but mostly because we both tend to get defensive when we're both trying to get two points across, and I've learned over the years that I can write a letter, take my time and make sure I'm heard without pointing fingers or placing blame...then he can read it, mull it over, and we usually come back the next evening and chat about the concerns on both sides of the table.

This never happens when I type a letter. It probably comes across more formal...it's quicker to type than it is to write. Subconsciously, I guess when you hand write something, it tells the reader that you took the time to write it, to think about what you were going to write, that now your wrist hurts. But, all of the feeling, the emotion, the point you're trying to make, it's all right there. When you type, sure you can edit yourself, delete and replace, but you also run the risk of going too fast, of NOT using the same filters you would have had you slowed down and just wrote it out.

So, long story short, I hand wrote a letter last night. It was read, mulled over, and he was home by 6:45. We had dinner as a family, he played with Bryce and watched some cartoons. We watched the Mariner's game together. And now we're heading to bed. Good night all.

Beyond

I don't know what else to say.

I'm pregnant. I'm hot. I'm tired. I'm uncomfortable. I'm swelled up and bloated.

Today, I've been put on partial bed rest. Today, you'd think he would have tried to come home early, so I could begin to follow doctor's orders.

But, today is like any other day. There are cars to fix, and the boss is out of town, so even more responsibility. So, he stayed. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised.

Yeah, he comes home. I'm grateful for that. But when he does, at 8 or 9 at night, which is becoming the new norm, Bryce suffers. He wants to see him. He stays up past his bedtime to see him. And then he yells when Bryce throws a fit. He's tired, he needs structure, he needs his bedtime back. But he needs Daddy time too.

He gets home. He tags me out, I go lay down. He goes downstairs, and has his well-deserved beer and kicks his feet up. And then I don't see or talk to him until 6AM the next morning, when he says goodbye.

And the cycle continues.

Kitchen remodel. Sick kid. Pregnant wife. Sweltering heat. Doesn't matter.

Just wish I could push the remainder of my life back a couple hours to accommodate.

There's So Much To Be Thankful For

I love my auntie. She has a way with words. :)

Sometimes, I get so wrapped up in my own day, my own head, that I forget how truly blessed I am. First of all, I'm VERY blessed by a family who knows when it's time to call me to the carpet.

My auntie has been reading this blog for some time. I didn't realize she had, because she's not on my "followers" list. She sent me an email yesterday and let me know that she wanted to make a comment about my blog. Given my current hormonal condition, this could have EASILY gone sideways, but because she knows and loves me, and because I believe God was on my end keeping the hormones at bay, the message came through loud and clear. The message was this:

I am SO lucky to have the husband I do. I have griped, complained, threw fits, made ultimatums, and behaved so horribly rotten toward him at some points that I'm lucky he's stuck by me. The man works long hours. He's tired when he gets home. He deserves to sit and have a beer...even if the bottle cap is left on the counter...he's human.

The important thing is, HE COMES HOME. He SPENDS TIME with us. He takes Bryce golfing. He does what he can with the time he has. And it's all geared toward us. He's trying to make my dreams come true. He has given me 2 healthy kids, a healthy AND NORMAL teenage bonus-daughter, a beautiful home, and is now working his rear-end off to try and make it so I can stay home and raise our babies full-time. All things I've always wanted and have dreamed of since I was a little girl. How lucky am I?

So, he makes a mess. So, he wants to play softball. So what? In the grand scheme of things, what does it really matter? Left to my own devices, there's no way I could accomplish all of the things mentioned above all by myself. I'M GLAD I don't have to, and I don't envy single parents who have to work full-time and try and give their kids the lives they deserve. It's hard as a working, married parent.

He's funny, he's loving, and even though he can be sarcastic and downright mean sometimes, he'd walk through fire for any one of us.

So, my house isn't spotless. So, I don't have a back splash. So what? The important thing is, I have the love and full support of a wonderful man. They don't come around all that often anymore.

The email she wrote me was a hard pill to swallow. I like to be right. And I like to be right 100% of the time. But this time, I couldn't help but admit that I've been less than flattering to my husband in this blog for some time. And I'm truly sorry for that. He certainly deserves better than that, especially from his wife.

So, last night, I made him a "fancy" dinner (the fanciest I could make with what we had on hand). I poured him a beer, even though I can't have one with him, and dinner was hot and on the table when he got home. I told him it was a thank you dinner and he asked "for what?" For what. :) For putting up with me, of course! I then proceeded to do the dishes, even though he insisted he would do them, and we then went outside with our little boy and laughed and played on the swing set until bed time.

It was, quite possibly and despite my current uncomfortable condition, THE BEST evening I've had with my family for a LONG time.

So, thank you Auntie Sharon. I love you! :)

Baby Abbie Update

I am one day shy of 36 weeks, less than 1 month before my due date of August 20th. I've slowed way down, I can't move around too much without it being a bit painful...she feels like she's going to fall right out of my stomach and onto the floor! I've gained a total of 33 lbs....not bad considering a "healthy" weight gain is 25-35 lbs, and I gained over 50 with Bryce. My blood pressure is still excellent.

I had non-productive contractions for several hours on Sunday afternoon/evening and ended up in L&D. They made me chug water, confirmed yes, I was having contractions, but they weren't doing anything, they weren't painful, and I wasn't dilated or effaced, so they sent me home with instructions to "take it easy." Apparently, they don't know what my life is like! :)

Monday I was extremely crampy all day, but no contractions. Same on Tuesday. Wed AM (this morning) I woke up at 4AM with TERRIBLE heartburn, and decided to just begin my work day early. I'll probably actually finish up my "work" day in a couple of hours and then just be available by phone and check my voicemail periodically, and try and catch a cat nap. I have had a few more contractions this morning, but again, non-painful and non-productive.

I was told if I go into labor on my own at this point, they will NOT try and and stop it. Depending on how early Abbie comes and if she has any issues, she may need some short-term help in the NICU, but anything after 37 weeks is considered full-term and healthy...so we're 1 week and 1 day away from being full-term. I'm just trying to keep her in one more week.

My luck she'll decide to just stay in, cause me to wonder for weeks if it's "time", and then be late. If that's the case, then there would be no mistaking that she is definitely MY daughter. :)

Some Pre-Baby Thoughts

We're about 5 weeks away now (give or take two in either direction). I'm almost 35 weeks pregnant...entering month 9. This pregnancy has flown by for me, thanks to my crazy pre-schooler, even crazier husband and the unexpected things life throws your way (see previous posts for more detailed info). It has now just started to occur to me that, by this time next month, I could be holding my little girl in my arms instead of feeling her do pirouettes on my bladder.

I'm nervous. How is Bryce going to react? Is he going to feel slighted by the amount of time Abbie will need from us? In an attempt to still give Bryce the attention he needs, will Abbie get slighted? How is Brett going to handle two kids? Will he be helpful or a cranky jerk?

I've felt my anxiety surge in the last couple of weeks, too. I've been up nights, just thinking about all sorts of things and can't sleep (besides normal pregnancy insomnia). Wondering if I should go back on the good 'ole "crazy pills" (as my mother lovingly refers to them) once Abbie is here, so that I have one less thing to deal with.

How will labor and delivery go? I've been through it once, so I know what to expect, but just wondering what parts will be the same, what parts will be different. It will just be Brett and I this time...will he be able to be the support system I need, or will I feel alone despite his physical presence?

Are we ever going to be able to find a groove in this house? So many things need to be done yet (cleaning-wise). No one but me seems to see the clutter and dirt in the house, so no one but me seems to be willing to clean it. All of a sudden my husband has gone from a neat-freak to someone who walks in the door, drops the contents of his arms around him, and then heads back outside to have fun, to softball, or to hang out with friends. I finally told him last night that I was on strike again. Until he finds the time to spend in this house, working on our projects and spending time with Bryce and me, that is. He did take Bryce putt-putt golfing this morning, as he does almost every weekend, but I'm sure the rest of the afternoon will be spent outside puttering around fixing the boat.

Will I finally get to be a stay at home mama? Or, will my maternity leave fly by and I'll be back to haggling dollars and cents with personal injury attorneys by Christmas? God, I hope not. There are just so many things to think about, all of which are beginning to weigh heavily. Suppose this is probably normal.

Quick Rant...

Why is it that, when I leave for a couple of hours to do something for myself, I come back to a mess and a husband sitting on the couch, drinking a beer?

Learning to say No

How does one do this? How do you, say, look someone in the eye, who has asked for your help, and say "no, I can't right now."? PLEASE TEACH ME HOW!!!

With the impending birth of Miss Abbie, I am slowly but surely mentally checking out at work. My mind drifts, daydreams loom, and it has become very hard to focus. I'm normally a very hard worker, very diligent and always get everything done...but lately, man it's been a struggle to say the least. So, you'd think I'd be mindful of this, and maybe turn a few projects or favors down in order to stay afloat with the mountain of work I already have on my plate. Yeah, you'd think that, and you'd be wrong.

I've spent the last two evenings working after Bryce goes to sleep and am still not caught up. The worst part is, I already know that I will be doing this nightly all week, and will likely need to work on Friday and through the weekend to get caught up from this week. Hopefully come Sunday, I will have learned my lesson. But in the meantime, if you've come up with creative or tactful ways of telling the powers-that-be "no", please share.

W.T.F.

I've determined that when all hell breaks lose in this world, I become a CNN whore. I spend every waking moment either watching it or online reading it.

Farah Fawcett is gone. Ed McMahon is gone. Michael Freaking Jackson is gone. Love him or hate him, believe the bad or not, he was a true-blue legend. I watched Jermaine Jackson give a statement from the hospital to let the media know his brother had died...and all of a sudden I realized, 'this was someone's brother...someone's son....someone's dad...NOT just a celebrity.' It made me think about how I'd react if I lost my brother...the one person who's known me longer than anyone else in this world. I would be absolutely beside myself. I've lost a dad...in fact, my dad was 51, 1 year older than Michael, when he died. I was 20. Michael Jackson's kids aren't even 12 yet (as far as I can tell). My heart goes out to them. This is not easy to take as an adult, I can't even imagine if my dad had been taken from me in grade school.

I was so hoping Farah Fawcett would pull through. I figured it was probably a slim chance, but you always want to see a happy ending. But, at least now she is at peace and out of pain.

Oh Ed McMahon, you got my hopes up after every SuperBowl, thinking that any moment, my doorbell would ring and I would be presented with balloons, flowers, and a check the size of my door for $1 million.

Rest in peace.

M.I.A.

I've not blogged in some time now. I've determined I have no reason to blog when things are well...this site seems to have become my personal punching bag. Which, alas, is good, so that I can take my frustrations out here and not on my poor, unsuspecting family. But, since it appears I have a few followers, figured I should probably give an update on life as I know it. :)

I am now 31 weeks pregnant, which for you lay folk is almost 8 months. A full-term pregnancy is 40 weeks, which technically is 10 months when all said and done. My closest girlfriends are throwing me my one and only (at my request) shower next weekend and I'm hoping my registry is near empty by that time. Otherwise, I'll be spending a day in Babies R Us getting the stuff I really need. You know, it's funny...the first time around, I registered for all sorts of things, most of which I didn't end up using...the second time around, I know exactly what I need, what worked, etc, so I didn't bother with a lot of things those stupid baby websites tell you you're going to need.

The rooms got shifted about a month ago. Bryce's room is done, he has his bunk beds now complete with two twin mattresses and Lightning McQueen/Mater bedding. He has a new dresser that's red and Brett put Cars stickers all over it. It's very cool and Bryce adores his new room. He transitioned well, which was a huge relief.

Shayann is hardly ever here anymore, so her room is still unpacked, but the bed's made and the boxes stacked neatly, so I don't care. I know eventually she'll want to have her room back and she'll make it her own.

Brett has been in the process of painting the blue wall in Abbie's room pink for a few weeks now. You see, when we moved in, I painted a blue accent wall (it was Bryce's room to start), and I got a WEE bit of paint on the trim. So, now Brett isn't sure whether or not he can live with that tiny speck of blue paint on the trim of the pink wall, so he's debating on tearing out the trim and putting up new trim. So, until he makes up his mind, the wall is pink except for about 2 inches toward the bottom that are still Thomas the Tank Engine blue. Also because of this, all of her furniture is in the middle of the room and not put nicely where it goes. Her crib is decked with her new bedding though. Once I get Brett to finish the work in that room, I will take a pic of the finished product and share with you!

Speaking of paint, Brett still has not finished the trimwork in the remainder of the house. So, I still have an extension ladder sitting by my front door, paint cans and paraphernalia in my living room and a non-painted, non-mirrored downstairs bathroom. Still no backsplash in either the bathroom or the kitchen, either.

Can I tell you how absolutely frustrating it is, that, if he's lucky, the man's got 9 weeks until we will literally have NO time to finish these projects? I will absolutely kill him if these are not done before Abbie arrives. There is just no excuse. It's absolutely ridiculous.

If anyone has any advice or pointers about how else I can persuade my procrastinator husband to get this crap done, now would be the time to share!!!

Smiles All Around

So, with one day to spare, all of the furniture is IN my house (including my INSANELY heavy piano that I was pretty sure Brett was going to pitch while I slept). With the help of a couple of wonderful friends, the office is in the bonus room, Shayann is in the office, Bryce is in Shayann's room and Abbie now has a room!!! I set up her crib today and other than painting the currently blue accent wall something more girly (or neutral), and getting Bryce his bunk bed so I can get the crib mattress back for her bed, her room is done too! I can't flipping believe it! I've agonized over this for MONTHS, and the day finally came. Now I don't know what to do with myself!

And even MORE crazy, Brett is planning to finish painting the trim by the end of this weekend! WTF!?!? If he does that, the whole darned kitchen remodel/fiasco will be over. Except the bathroom. It still needs paint and a backsplash, and the mirror re-hung. Oh yeah, and the backsplash in the kitchen. But mentally, it's over for me! YAY!!!

A Sense of Urgency

At work, it's constantly stressed. Things must be done, they must be done right, and they should have been done yesterday. But since you couldn't finish it yesterday, you must do it within the next 10 minutes. There is always an atmosphere of rushing and getting things done as quickly (and as accurately) as possible.

No wonder I have a difficult time slowing down in my personal life. And maybe, my sense of urgency that has been ingrained in me since my college days is a blessing. Without it, I doubt I'd have a kitchen yet. We definitely wouldn't be as far along as far as "progress" with the house is concerned.

But, I guess I drive my family nuts with my demanding need to have things done yesterday. I try SO HARD to be patient and to not completely lose it on people when they don't share the same time constraints I do. But, after discussing, pleading, begging and threatening, all out screaming and fit-throwing is bound to ensue.

I've been warning for a week now, that another unwarranted, unnecessary meltdown is on the horizon. And I have employed every tool in the box and shred of patience and civility I have within me to keep it at bay.

But so help me GOD, if my furniture is not back in my house from the garage THIS WEEKEND, and if the bedrooms aren't rearranged to allow me the joy and freedom to putz around Abbie's room and prepare for my new little baby girl, all hell is going to break loose in Casa de Monahan.

You've been sufficiently warned.

Up

It's 1:30AM...where are you?

I am sitting on my couch, watching Abbie go CRAZY under my shirt. She literally kicked me out of a sound sleep and I'm waiting for her to calm back down so I can get back to sleep. First time in either pregnancy that's happened. Kinda cool, but damn, I'm tired!

On a random side note, though I LOVED Jimmy Fallon when he was on Saturday Night Live, I don't think he's found his groove yet hosting a late night show. He's certainly no Conan O'Brien. I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I'm just not seeing him lasting long in this role. Craig Ferguson over on CBS is much funnier and a better host.

I can feel my heartbeat in my hands when I clench my fists...is that weird?

Well, I'm going to try swaying back and forth, quite possibly to rock this little chica back to sleep...and if that doesn't work...well...maybe I'll just exhaust myself back to sleep.

Sweet Dreams!

Synod Assembly

As a Lutheran Christian, one of the events on the calendar each year is Synod Assembly. Basically, all of the pastors from the churches in southwest Washington get together, as well as a male and female member (who get voted on by the congregation each year), and we go through some workshops, vote on some resolutions that are being considered around the country, and there's usually a keynote speaker that teaches us something new.

This was my first year going, and I'd have to say that I would go again (just not for awhile, it was a LONG weekend). Our keynote speaker discussed diversity, how to embrace and understand others who differ from you (either in appearance, culture, sexuality, gender, etc), as well as how to listen to those that could be deemed the "powerless", and if you are among the "powerless" how to speak up. Eric Law (who is head of the Kaleidescope Institute in LA) was a very engaging speaker, and I learned a lot from what he had to share with us.

Brett and I were both supposed to go from our congregation, but he got ill and couldn't make it. So, it was me and Pastor Mark all weekend. We had a lot of good conversations, and I really feel like I got to know him much better. We shared our ideas for our very first praise band, and brought up songs and started roughing out some services.

On Saturday, the "controversial" resolutions were put on the table. They centered around formal statements of whether or not to be inclusive to the homosexual community, and whether or not to allow homosexual ordained ministers (who are already allowed to be pastors of our congregations) the "privilege" of being in a monogomous, same-gendered relationship while in a call.

Now, according to my pastor, these hot topics have been debated for the last 7 or 8 years. Slowly the amount of folks in favor of full inclusion has increased and those who are still unsure, or against this are losing ground.

I'm not here to push my beliefs on anyone else. I use this blog to discuss my life, daily goings on, etc.

But, one of the things I LOVE about being a Lutheran Christian is that questions are encouraged. Debate is good. We are an inclusive group.

I worried yesterday, that maybe my beliefs were too progressive for the group. I worried that I was a member of a hypocritical synod...one that wants to be inclusive and wants everyone to be equal, except the ones that are different from us.

We're all shaped from our own experiences, good and bad. I grew up in a small town, was not exposed to many people who were different from me, and had my eyes opened WIDE when I came to the "big city." It was scary, to challenge all of those things I'd been taught, to challenge my own pre-conceived notions about people. What I discovered was, once you get over that fear and decide you're going to get to know someone for who they are, rather than what color they are or who they love, you become richer and grow yourself.

So, I had to ask myself, why is this so scary? Are we afraid that a gay pastor might hurt our children, or teach that being gay is the way to be? If so, then how do we reconcile the leaders of the Catholic church, who did such damage to countless children? How do we decide who is safe and who is not?

If we're to be an inclusive group, then shouldn't that include ALL people? Are we afraid that, by sitting next to a gay couple in church, that they will "rub off" on us and "make" us gay too? If that's the case, then will my skin turn black if I shake hands with my friend? Will I become male when I kiss my husband?

Is being gay something that's genetic/that we're born with, or a choice? I believe that's where a lot of the debate centered around. I'm sure there are some out there that choose the lifestyle, but I can't imagine, FOR THE LIFE OF ME, why someone would willingly choose to be discriminated against, to not be able to share the same rights to love and marriage as heterosexuals, to be thought of by some as immoral, disgusting, dirty, or sinful.

I sat at a table with my pastor, another pastor from a prison congregation, and a small group of lay members and a pastor from a congregation in Vancouver. The members from the Vancouver church were all older, likely retired. I know the fear they feel. I've been there. It is a scary road to venture down. But, oh, the freedom and peace that is felt once you make a deliberate decision to educate yourself out of fear.

I was quite dismayed, to be honest, after all we had learned from Eric Law about being open, listening to the powerless, analyzing why we react or feel the way we do when we say or hear something, that the PASTOR from the Vancouver church said aloud to the entire table "it's all well and good what we were taught, but let's be realistic, nobody's mind is going to be changed by the debate." And all in his fold nodded their heads in agreement. At that point, I got up from the table, went to the bathroom and cried.

I cried not because I disagreed with them. I cried because without open dialog, without at least WILLINGNESS to hear the other side, this chuch I love, this community I love was going to go down in flames.

Upon my return, the heated debate had begun. And again, my pre-conceived notions were challenged. I fully expected the younger pastors, maybe those in more liberal areas of our state to get up in support of full inclusion. What I did not expect was the ex-marine, older man, who is a member of a rural church to get up in support of full inclusion. I did not expect the elderly retired pastor to get up in support. It bothered me to look around my table and see those whose minds were already made up not even turning around to feign listening to those who did not share their view.

I texted Brett, who was not able to be there, to ask him what his thoughts were. His response: "what would God say?" Loaded question. God said a lot of things. But, as a Christian, my highest authority is Christ (not Paul, not Moses, not Peter, not John, just Jesus). Jesus gave 2 new commandments at the Last Supper that Christians the world over strive to live by: 1"Love the Lord your God with all of your heart" and 2"Love one another as I have loved you." To me, this is what being a Christian, and a Lutheran is all about.

So, when it came time to vote, I did what I thought was right. It wasn't easy. But frankly, sometimes the "right" path is not the easy one.

And then the results slowly came in. Apparently, I need to have more faith in my own group. There was OVERWHELMING support for full inclusion of ALL people from all walks of life to have full access to Christ. It wasn't merely a 50/50 split.

My mind drifted back to the pastor at our table who told us that debate wasn't going to change anyone's mind. And maybe it didn't change anyone's mind at our table. But, over the course of ALL of the debates since this "issue" has come to the table (7-8 years), minds had been changed. Hearts had been changed.

Praise be to God.

Restless

You know, I'm so restless right now, I can't even think of anything to write. I want to write, but I can't think of anything substantial, or important, or even remotely interesting.

My baseboards are 100% installed, and my dishwasher has been mounted. There's still paint to do, and the moving back in of our living room furniture, but contractor dude's portion is almost done. Just an electrical socket in the island, and then he's done.

I had a fantastic Mother's Day! My mom chipped in with Brett for a joint Mother's Day/birthday present and I got a brand new sewing machine! This one is the Singer Futura C-250, and you can actually hook it up to your PC, download embroidery patterns, hit start, and then the thing actually embroiders it for you! Flipping amazing and so cool! I've already started working on a crazy quilt for Bryce from the scraps of fabric I've saved over the years.

I still need to move bedrooms around, but all of a sudden I have no motivation to do it. I know that sound weird, considering how much I've ranted about it over the last few months. I went into the office and looked at all the stuff that needs to be moved upstairs...so many books, no boxes for them. Then I realized that there's nothing that I can move by myself. No one to move the dresser, or mount the flatscreen TV to the wall, and move the other functional yet being-used-as-a-TV-stand-for-the-new-TV TV to Shayann's new room (which is downstairs). It's just overwhelming. And I don't want to do it. Maybe I'll lay off for a bit, and just worry about putting the bassinet in our room for now. I can still put Abbie's things into Shayann's closet for now, moving clothing from closet to closet is no biggie.

So, there you have it. Random restless ramblings. Enjoy!

She's a Kicker

I'm tired of blogging about the house, because we have progress and then we backslide. Then I throw a fit and we have progress. And then we backslide. And the vicious cycle continues.

As I type I'm being amused by my little daughter, who just LOVES to kick, punch, and turn somersaults in my stomach all night long. She wakes up about 9, does this stretch with her arms and legs (from what I can imagine...it feels like that anyway), and then proceeds to "work out" in my belly for a good couple of hours. Then she goes through her set of sporadic movements (which I now can see from the outside), and eventually settles back down with a good set of hiccups around midnight. Then, I don't "hear" a thing from here until 10 or so the next morning. I can already see she'll be much like her mama: a night owl that LOVES to sleep in, and a fighter. :)

Ssh....don't move...

...you may scare him away. Look, LOOK, but don't make a sound....


...if you glance around the corner into the kitchen you'll see a very elusive creature....

Ssh! Be very quiet...

...it's contractor dude, working on putting the trim back up....

Don't spook him, he's liable to leave and not come back for two weeks...

Temper Tantrums Preggo Style

Yup, I had one. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel better after it was all said and done.

What was it about? What else! The house! I absolutely, utterly, and COMPLETELY lost it Sunday afternoon. No control of the pitch, volume, or sailor-laden language coming out of my mouth. I'm pretty sure I reminded Brett 51 times that we have a baby on the way, that is due in 3 months, that we have not even STARTED putting a room together for. But to be honest, much of it is a blur and I can't remember. It's like I blacked out for a moment.

I have a good man, though. He gave me my space, let me take a nap, and apologized after I woke up (I did, too...I don't enjoy acting like a 2 year old, and I'm certainly not proud of it).

Wednesday (tomorrow) is the magical day, when contractor dude has promised to be back to begin work again on the little things that should only take sheer minutes to complete (according to Brett, anyway). Brett advised me, "I told him 'you HAVE to come or you HAVE to call if you can't...because if you don't, I'm going to die. My wife will literally kill me.'"

So, we'll see if he shows. Needless to say I haven't turned blue from holding my breath yet.

Things to finish:
Paint (just trimming)
Bathroom paint (all of it)
Baseboards (throughout entire downstairs)
Mount dishwasher
Trim the dishwasher
Re-install electrical outlet in my island
Pick out and install backsplash in kitchen and bathroom
Move furniture back in from garage (which only amounts to 2 couches, a leather chair, and the piano)
Move accessories back into the living room/dining room

Relaxing Weekend

Each year about this time, Brett's extended family all heads up to Fort Worden in Port Townsend for the weekend. The events range from sing-alongs on the beach, campfires with s'mores, chasing little ones around the fields, teenagers in the Bunkers, lots of fan-TAS-tic food, and wonderful conversation. Every family has their quirks and their issues, but I truly adore Brett's family. I feel very free to be myself, and I enjoy visiting with them all, and sharing my talents (both in the kitchen and behind a guitar).

Each year, our particular family is usually in charge of breakfast on Saturday morning. Brett's mom is a fabulous cook, and she usually finds 2-3 new recipes to try out on the group each year. However, in years past, we usually were sprung with several cooking surprises that weren't on the usual menu, and required the other females in our family to spend way more time in the kitchen than we wanted to or anticipated. Each year, we try and plan for this, and tactfully explain to our MIL that we DON'T want to be in the kitchen all weekend, we don't want to waste food, and we want to make sure that everyone's food gets sampled. I am proud to say that after 10+ years of the same song and dance, she FINALLY got it. She kept to her menu (we kept to ours), and we had a VERY NICE meal with plenty of food and didn't stress about the kitchen this year. I was so happy that I wanted to kiss her!

The crowd was sparse this year, and it's becoming clearer to everyone that Port Townsend may not be the location of choice next year. There's been a lot of talk about heading out to the beach (Ocean Shores) next year if we can find a few houses on the water to rent. Even though I grew up out there and it's nothing new to me, it would be a great change of pace and a chance for Bryce to enjoy the ocean like I did growing up. We may even be able to begin some new traditions for the newest generation!

All in all, a relaxing, enjoyable weekend!

Acceptance

I think I've almost given up. Contractor dude has not been here in 2 weeks now, despite promising daily work this week. There are such minor things left to be done, but they MUST be done before I can move in the rest of my furniture or starting shifting rooms to get ready for Abbie's impending arrival.

Worse, Brett does not seem to care in the slightest that nothing has been done. Brett also has done nothing, short of shifting his paint/plumbing/electrical supplies around the kitchen (but not to the garage where they belong) in order to pseudo-appease me, so that I can cook in my kitchen.

I accept that I cannot control Brett, or contractor dude, but I can control myself, right? So, the boycott begins:

I am not cleaning a single surface in my house (except toilets and countertops, thanks to Swine Flu anxiety), picking up a single tool, straightening up a single room, or putting anything away until this house is complete. I'm talking paint done, baseboards back in, furniture in place. Dishwasher mounted. Dishwasher trim installed. Electrical outlet put back in my island.

I don't care how much he bitches, whines, moans, complains, or stomps around this house in his passive-aggressive way. NOT.GONNA.DO.IT.

Let the games begin...

If It's Not One Thing...

Progress always seems to go hand in hand with setbacks. And I'm having a difficult time coping with this roller coaster in my current physical and emotional state (ie: PREGNANT!)

Last week, painting was finished (minus trimming up to the ceiling and the downstairs bathroom), and the trimming of the cabinets was complete (minus mounting the dishwasher and installing the trim around it). We've been told the dishwasher component will be completed by tomorrow.

I ordered blinds for the kitchen, slider, and fam room window last week, and those should be in by tomorrow as well. If not, Brandon from 3 Day Blinds is going to get an earful from me on Thursday (when I think 3 day Blinds...I think order...then 3 days later, they're on your doorstep...not the case people, hate to burst the bubble).

What is there still to do? Moldings, throughout our ENTIRE house. You see, because we drastically changed the colors (light maple to dark cherry), the trim no longer matches. ANYWHERE. So, we have a choice: try and reuse the trim we currently have and hope no one notices the differences (that's my choice), or buy all new trim for the ENTIRE house (that's Brett's choice). If we do it my way, we need to get nails out of the old trim and strip off the caulking, but then we're good to go and can re-install in only the areas where it was taken off. If we go Brett's route, we have to pull all the trim EVERYWHERE and in each room (even UPSTAIRS!), and then spend money on new trim, likely stain it, wait for that to try, and the reinstall it EVERYWHERE.

But, there are bigger fish to fry. We can't put the molding back in until the floor issue is resolved. Floor issue, you ask yourself? What floor issue? Apparently, the hardwood installers (who we were told were the "best in the business") took the easy way out and totally f'ed up the installation of our floor. There are now zipper joints, the wood was laid to close to the walls (and therefore won't be able to expand without causing damage to the walls), and something about the width not being laid to industry standards. This was all noticed by a friend of Brett's who used to lay hardwood floors, and supported by a real-life, full-fledged hardwood inspector (who, for a nominal fee, will inspect your floor and write a report that is admissable in court, if it goes that for...and yeah, and he'll testify for you too). When approached with the issues, the guy who sold us the floor came over (before the inspector did, mind you) and told us he didn't see anything wrong with the floor, and then demanded we pay the remaining 50% balance. Ah, young grasshopper, you apparently have never dealt with a Monahan before. So, now, depending on how the flooring company wishes to proceed with us, and what the inspector's final recommendations are (deal with it but get your money back, or it has to come out due to structural issues), it may be QUITE some time before we have a finished house. Harumph.

But, Brett's letting me move all of my furniture back in from the garage, so it'll at least feel SOMEWHAT put back together. For awhile anyway.

Progress Continues

I got a pleasant surprise this week:

Our contractor came back after his bout with bronchitis that turned to pneumonia (poor guy!), and finished our cabinets! They look AWESOME! It's amazing what trim and toe kicks can do for the looks of cabinetry! We're waiting on one last check from the insurance company for some incidentals, and then we will be able to buy and install the moldings for the rest of the house.

Brett's brother came over diligently this week and painted the ENTIRE house with our chosen color Mexican Sand. It's a nice medium tan/taupe color, but is also somewhat warm and really did wonders to make the house feel more homey and less airy. Amazing what paint can do. The only thing he did not do was trim up to the ceiling. I can't say I blame him, with Brett being an anal-retentive asshole when it comes to painting and "perfect" lines. He was right to just let Brett climb the ladder and let him do it himself. I would have done the same thing! :)

An unexpected surprise greeting me Thursday afternoon upon returning home: Brett has hired a landscaper to clean up our yard, remove the moss from the grass, and lay beauty bark in our flower beds. Those of you who know our lost battles with the yard over the years, or have seen the enormity of the yard we purchased with our home know that, other than my little garden I placed in one of the flowerbeds last year and the one bed we turned back into grass, we haven't had much success with making the backyard look great. Brett worked SO hard last year thatching, aerating and re-seeding the grass. We winterized it, only to see even MORE moss come back this year. We also have very sad palm trees staring at us, asking for help (which we don't know how to give, because we didn't grow up in Hawaii like the folks who owned the house before us). Luckily, the fellows that will be maintaining the lawn for the next several months are from, shall we say, much warmer climates, where palm trees/bushes are much more prevalent. I'm sure our sad little trees will be much happier within the next few weeks.

I've had that nasty little cold that's been going around for the last few days, and yesterday I went back to work after taking 1 1/2 days off to recuperate. I noticed some cramps that felt more like sharp, stabbing pains, but figured they were probably just aches and pains from being sick. It wasn't until later in the afternoon that I realized these "cramps" were coming and going, and had some sort of rhythm to them...I'd have one about every 5-15 minutes, and they only lasted about 10-20 seconds. They got more and more painful as the day wore on, and I thought to myself, "hmm...I don't think they're contractions, they don't feel like them, but this definitely is NOT normal." So, I called my nurse line, which suggested a trip to the urgent care. At the Urgent Care I was told they weren't equipped to deal with preggo's, so Labor and Delivery at our local hospital was waiting for me. WHAT?! Suddenly, my mind was thrust into "wonder what THIS is all about" mode to "oh my God, they think I'm in pre-term labor!" Quick arrangements were made for Bryce, Brett got a friend to drive me to the ER (thanks Dan!) and I was whisked away to L&D, where monitors were hooked up to me to check fetal heartbeat and contractions. And guess what? After a solid 2 hours of either being hooked up to the monitors, having blood drawn, or having a full-blown ultrasound, I was told that I was FINE, and Abbie was FINE too (THANK THE LORD!). They couldn't tell me what the stabbing pains were, but they knew they were definitely NOT contractions, so they sent me on my merry way. At midnight.

Brett and I were trying to trouble shoot on my way home, while wolfing down some Wendy's (we didn't eat dinner). All of a sudden, my pains became really severe, and it occurred to me....now...how to phrase this politely....that, well, I hadn't had a BM in a couple of days. How embarrassing to realize you just spent 3-4 hours at the ER/L&D because you have bad gas. Even better, realize how much money you just spent when you could've made a quick trip to Safeway for prune juice and baked beans. Dear Lord. Well, at least with my various ailments since the first of this year, we've already paid our 100% maximum out of pocket expenses for the ENTIRE family (between Bryce's broken leg and all my diagnostic testing for dizziness/pregnancy issues), so this trip should be mostly if not entirely free.

Today, I was still a bit crampy, but had myself a white chocolate mocha and a fanTAStic McDonald's breakfast on our way out to see Brett play softball. Let's just say that I'm not crampy anymore.

I'm just glad that everyone's okay. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

How Hard Could It Possibly Be?

He knows I'm pregnant. He knows I want my house put back together. Brett's told me he's made it all too clear to him that he does not want ME calling him to find out why he hasn't finished yet.

Yet, he still has NOT begun to finish our house. And by he, I mean the guy Brett hired to do the general and odds and ends work on our kitchen remodel. He apparently came by today (after promising to come by every day last week, and this...I'm sure you can understand why I no longer hold my breath), and after spending about 10 minutes here, got a call from his accountant and left. For the WHOLE day. He never once came back.

My brother-in-law, who is NOT a painter, has been here Saturday, Monday, today and will be here Thursday to finish painting our house. He has painted as best I can figure, about 1000 square feet of walls, likely more. The only rooms we decided NOT to paint while remodeling were the bedrooms, office, mud room, bonus room, and the upstairs bathrooms. All other surfaces have paint on them, thanks largely to Todd. THAT, my friends, is how it's done. You say you're going to do a job, you SHOW UP, you do the job, you FINISH the job, and then you get paid and leave. That simple.

Why is it that this guy just assumes we're OKAY with his antics? He's completely unreliable. Why, you may be asking, have you not fired him and hired someone else?
First, he's 1/2 done with our cabinets and Brett would like him to finish, since his handiwork is all over what he's already done and Brett wants to make sure the work is consistent.
Second, when he IS here, he's very good at what he does. And he's not all that expensive.

But, frankly, if I can't get this guy to finish the cabinets this week, I don't care what I have to pay someone, I will hop on craigslist or head down to Home Depot to see if I can find someone who would like the work.

This is flat out ridiculous and unacceptable.

Patience, Young Grasshopper...

The guy who is doing all of the odds and ends stuff at our house has had pneumonia for the last two weeks. Hence, since the addition of our granite, NOTHING ELSE has been completed on our house. Brett (bless his heart) has installed our sinks, brought the oven back in and hooked it up, and did the electrical work to hook up and re-mount the microwave.

Our first meal back in our house was cooked on Monday night. I made a pork loin, roasted red potatoes, and asparagus, which I have been craving since I first lost my kitchen.

The next night was gorgeous weather, so I made filet mignon's wrapped in bacon on the bbq, twice baked potatoes and steamed broccoli.

Last night was spaghetti, and tonight we did leftovers.

I have one corner of my counter top to work on currently, due to the the plumbing/electrical/power tools that are still over-taking my kitchen. However, I can now cook dammit! :)

I have slowly begun moving my kitchen back into the office and putting things where they go. On the list to buy new: matching glasses and matching mixing bowls. I have a mish-mash of both, and too many that could be donated or really should be tossed! :)

Good thing I didn't volunteer to host Easter, because there's no way this house will be done by Sunday!

Behold the Granite

WE NOW HAVE OUR COUNTERTOPS! We just got them installed mere hours ago. They look GREAT in our kitchen and mesh well with the wood and colors we've chosen. This is a HUGE relief! For those of you wondering, we chose the Tropic Brown color. It's apparently very popular and in stock at most granite places.




This is the island...

A large shot of the entire kitchen...mostly put back together...
And a nice shot of how the granite ties in nicely with the cherry cabinets and the tigerwood floor.

Items left to complete:
Last sand and refinish of the floor: Scheduled for Friday, 4/3
Paint the remainder of the house: next week
Hook up/install the sinks and faucets: Tonight, if Brett is in a good mood
Move my oven back in from the garage: see above
Finish trimwork: probably around the end of next week
Backsplash: Hopefully within the next few weeks
Move the rest of our furniture back into the house: whenever paint/trim is done.

There is still so much left to do, but the big stuff is done. I should be able to cook in no time!

Baby Abbie Monahan

As promised, here are the photos of our baby girl at our 20 week appointment. The only real difference between these and her 16 week photos are that she's gotten a teeny bit bigger, and we now know she is definitely a girl. :)

Enjoy!




This last one is cool, because you can kind of make out that she's sucking her thumb (head is in the lower right corner), and she's resting her elbow on her knee. Just chillin'. :)

Baby James Princess

Is no longer baby James Princess! We found out this morning that we are having a little GIRL! Woohoo! We got some cute pictures (if you call black-and-white skeletal pictures cute) of our little chickie, who for at the time being shall remain nameless. Alas, my scanner is down and I will have to post the pictures at a later time. However, they look much like the pictures posted a few posts ago. We did get a cool one of her putting her elbow to her knee, which makes it look like a big white cross on the picture! :)

Yay!!!

New Developments

Bryce is now interested in hopping on one foot. :) For your viewing pleasure...

Photos Galore!

I apologize, I have been SO TERRIBLE about getting photos up. I noticed at least twice previously that I mentioned photos would follow and then they did not. So, here ya go. The first photos are the 16 week shots of Baby James Princess. By the way, please note that you may want to check back on March 30-31st, as we have our 20 week ultrasound, at which point we'll be able to find out if we have a James or a Princess. :)





And now, onto the photos of the kitchen remodel. The first couple are the floor as it was put it (but not sanded and finished). The last few are the finished floor which is beautiful Tigerwood, and our cherry cabinets, almost completely installed. Also, my brand new dishwasher, which I ran for the FIRST time tonight! Who knew you could get so excited over a dishwasher, eh?







Our countertops are due to be installed Wednesday of next week. There's more painting to do, some trim work, and we still need to get my oven and microwave in this place. Then, one more coat of finish on the floors and we're back in business! Whew!

I'm Better Now

After force-feeding myself toast, applesauce and watered down gatorade, I am ALMOST back to my old self. The stress of life is waning at the moment. Paint in the kitchen, cabinets in the dining room (making their way to the kitchen tomorrow!), everything is ordered, just a matter of getting countertops templated out and cut to size and installed. Should be back in business by the end of next week!

The best part is that Our whole downstairs (minus one or two small, inconsequential rooms) are getting painted! Woohoo! No more white-washed walls! We picked a very nice carmelly-brown color, which a hint of taupe. LOVE it.

I'll be posting pics soon. As soon as I can find my damned camera. It's been lost in the kitchen mess in the office. :)

I'm Sick

Well, kids, the stress of it all finally caught up to me yesterday. I spent the whole day crying, punctuated with moments of clarity, just long enough to talk about a claim with an attorney and not SOUND like I was crying all day. I got into a fight with one of my cousins over something s ridiculous via Facebook, that when I went back and read our dialog later, I was ashamed at myself. It was clear at that point, that the stress has successfully permeated every aspect of my life, and I have become a miserable person to be around.

Hell, my mom was so worried about me that she called Brett to discuss everything and make sure he was doing everything HE could to alleviate stress for me. Like it's solely his job, and he's not experiencing any stress either. God love her, she was just concerned about her daughter. Brett took it well, thank goodness.

So, anyway, we're laying in bed, after resolving some issues and I mentally felt better, but I could tell my body was rebelling. I just felt...I don't know...funny. Not like I was going to throw up, just maybe that I needed to be up and about. I went downstairs and watched mindless television until 3AM when I think I finally passed out. The TV viewing was also interrupted several times by trip to the bathroom. I'll leave out the fun details. But, let me assure you, it wasn't a fun night.

When I awoke on the couch around 4, I went back to bed. Then got back up at 5 and was sick again...until 6, when Brett got up for work. He suggested I call in sick to work, since Wednesdays are my days to work from home with Bryce in tow. This is no easy feat healthy, let alone sick and pregnant. I figure, any excess energy I have should be devoted to my child and not being at the beck and call of some attorney.

So, I'm pretty sure I'll come back to work with a counseling memo waiting on my desk for missing too many days of work lately. But, you know, I'm not afraid of that anymore, because I've decided my health and my family are much more important than any job. It would be nice, though, to be able to keep my benefits until the baby is born. :)

I Need A Bigger Plate

There are just too many stressful things going on right now, and I'm ready to explode. Either in tears, or I just may strangle someone, I'm not quite sure which yet.

We are now over 2 months without a workable kitchen. The floors are in, and were sanded, with two coats of finish on them. This is forward movement, yes, however, my house now WREAKS of the finish they put on it (think a very strong, obnoxious nail polish remover odor, mixed with paint thinner...absolutely awful). The fumes were gone, so it is safe to be here, but the stench makes me nauseated and gives me a terrible headache. It hasn't been exactly balmy here in the PNW, but my windows have been open 24/7 since Tuesday as if it were. I'm starting to wonder if it will ever go away. Oh yeah, and there's one more coat to go...

We were told our cabinets would be in the week of the 16th...well, that was pushed to the 23rd. Yeah, yeah, only one week late, which as far as construction goes, may as well be on time. But, still, after 2 months of this GARBAGE, I can't take things being delayed. I just want my kitchen back.

We still haven't decided on granite for the countertops. We've been to the slab warehouse twice and though I found several I liked, Brett found none. And, he's unwilling to take time off during the week to go look elsewhere, so that means that we're down to a small amount of time next Saturday to look (ie, maybe an hour, after a mandatory meeting I have on Saturday for my church council). Why Saturday? Well, because the cabinets come in on the following Monday and I swear to GOD, if Brett is the reason why we have another delay, he'll be swimmin' with the fishes.

Brett wants to purchase a $450 faucet for our kitchen sink. WTF? Are you f'ing kidding me? I found several VERY NICE faucets, all within the $100-$200 range, which frankly I still think is too much money, but much more reasonable that $450. Why so fancy? Well, it looks like an ornate lunchroom cafeteria kitchen sink hose. You know, the ones you can pull down from the ceiling and spray 1000 lbs psi to scour the mystery meat off the casserole dish. AND, it has a magnet within the faucet to boot, so that after you're done power washing your siding, it will self-retract and hold itself in place with the magnet. HOLY CRAP.
Frankly, I think you could pay me $450 and I could MAKE one that looked and functioned nicer than this. THIS WILL NOT BE GOING IN MY KITCHEN.

On the bright side, we did have someone finally come in to do some electrical, plumbing, and insulation/drywall, so I'm not staring at the bones of my house (aka the studs). We have picked out a sink, a dishwasher, and the paint color for our entire downstairs. However, despite this progress it gets worse:

My pregnancy has shifted from nausea (yay, I have my appetite back) to a constant feeling of pelvic pain, pressure, stabbing, sharp, miserable, can't-get-comfortable, crap I'm only 17 weeks and have at least 22 more to go, misery. These complaints brought about a slough of diagnostic testing from my OB. Nothing's wrong. Much like my dizziness months ago, this is just another symptom of my pregnancy, which may subside, stay the same, or God forbid get worse as time goes on. I recall feeling this way with Bryce...but I was about one month away from delivering him. I am already so tired, but everytime I lay down, I feel like someone has just kicked me HARD between the legs, and they are repeatedly doing it. So, no rest for the weary. No amount of pillows, large or small, seems to be easing my discomfort. I envy women who have easy pregnancies. Frankly, I'll be the first to admit that I hate being pregnant, and I only do it for the end result. I don't enjoy any moment of this. I didn't with Bryce, and I'm not with this one. But, the end result is MORE than worth it. So, you'll just have to put up with my rants from here on out.

Brett's been super busy at work (or so he says), and can't seem to get his ass home before 8PM. This creates havoc in my life. First, Bryce's bed time WAS 8PM ( I say was, because he really wants to see his dad at night, and I feel guilty putting him to bed before dad gets home most night), but has been pushed back, sometimes as late as 9:30 during the week. This means less alone/couple time for us. It also means that Bryce has been whinier than ever due to the fact he gets to spend little to no time with dad, and then he's super cranky in the morning when everything starts back up at 6:30 AM. Second, I get NO help during the week with the daily routine of meals (which currently amounts to a TON of driving around to figure out what "sounds good"), cleaning, bathing, and entertaining Bryce. I've tried to be understanding, but it's difficult when your husband is OBSESSED with money and his job is commission-based. I once jokingly called his boss a slave driver (we have that kind of relationship where I can do that without any retribution) and he was very quick to point out that everyone else leaves at decent hours on most nights and it's not him that's making Brett stay. So, basically I married a man that would much rather spend his evenings under cars than with us. Resentful? You bet. Tired? Duh. Upset? To say the least. His little schedule comes in waves. He starts staying later and later, under the guise that he just HAS to get these cars done, and then I finally get fed up and tell him he needs to leave because it impacts us all negatively. HE IS ABLE TO LEAVE BY 6PM when I threaten him within an inch of his life, for a couple of months in a row, before the cycle starts all over. I just can't understand why he's doing this NOW. I am pregnant, our house is completely torn apart, we haven't finished making decisions to complete our kitchen, Bryce just got his cast off and misses him like mad, yet he still stays. Boggles the mind.

Anyway, I know this was a long post, and there is even more that could've been written here that is complicating my life at this juncture, but this would be an inappropriate venue to divulge the remainder, so I remain mum. Just know that if you don't hear from me for a few weeks/months/years, it's because I'm either in a mental institution suffering from a nervous breakdown, or that I'm in prison. :)