I thought this would be kind of fun to try…
Formspring – if you are on there add me and feel free to ask me questions. 🙂 I’ll try and post the widget on my page permanently when I can figure out how. Since what I needed was another social media – though I love the idea of random questions from people I get to answer. Like my own eclectic advice column!
I should probably head to bed. I’ve spent the better part of the day cuddling my poor Spitha who is terrified of fireworks and crawls under things to hide. I always make sure I’m close to her so that she feels safe but I give her space to be afraid by herself. She won’t eat tonight but there is food out in case. I’m exhausted though from cleaning and organizing so…off to bed! Goodnight moon. Now go the f$%k to sleep.
But…But…It’s so HIGH UP THERE
See that picture there? That’s been me the last few weeks. The bone is a metaphor for a clean and organized house, a tidy and finished nursery, a filled with witty posts blog and an email inbox not full of un-responded to mail. That dog is me. Staring at something just out of my lazy-ass reach because I was too tired and sore to do anything about it. Sitting at the computer was actually painful for awhile – my thumb and wrists are still healing. So I’ll be coming back to this blog slowly.
The pressure is on. The baby is almost here (one more month!) and my “nesting” instinct has yet to kick into high gear (I can usually still convince myself that playing Sims 3 on the PS3 is a much safer activity than laundry). Tomorrow is the great clean up though. The house is a mess so we need to get it clean and presentable. Right now I wouldn’t have my own mother come by – and she knows what a slob I am! The plan is that once the house is clean and I won’t be embarrassed to have company Fatherbean will invite some muscle to the house and rearrange things to my liking. Of course we will also promise beer, pizza and possibly cupcakes. Luckily he has many manly cousins to contact.
So starting this week I will grab that bone and devour it (not literally EWW I’ll leave it for Spitha) and my home will be clean and organized for a little while. I hope.
Names. It’s one of the hardest initial tasks parents undertake for their child. Choosing a name that is unique so when the child’s name is called in school half the classroom doesn’t answer. Choosing a name that has a low possibility for being changed on the child to be used in bullying or schoolyard teasing. Choosing a name that doesn’t have negative connotations for you (the name of an ex-boyfriend or someone who wronged you) or a name that is linked negatively to someone famous (serial killer names for example). Trying one’s hardest to make sure the child will be happy with the name you chose and won’t want to change it during his/her teenage years.
Or, like some parents, caution can be thrown to the wind and they choose names such as & (Ampersand), Na-a (Nadasha) or @ (not sure how this one is pronounced). Name your child after cars, restaurants, corporations, fast food or even beloved cartoon characters (Optimus Prime i’m looking at you). I really don’t understand these parents.
When it came to naming Babybean I had a complicated situation that was solved in an unexpected way.
I’ve always had very vivid dreams. When I’m stressed or the anxiety and depression are creeping back in the dreams turn to nightmares. For example during the most anxious part of this pregnancy I kept having a recurring nightmare where I’d be coming home from work to find my precious dog dead. In different gory ways. It was horribly disturbing and on the days after having one I would often get off the bus and run home crying afraid that the nightmare would come true.
Thankfully things have gone from bad to weird and now instead of nightmares I have dreams that are, well, weird as shit.
Here are the top three dreams I’m having on a regular basis (with some variation each night I have them).
1) That Babybean has somehow in the middle of the night just crawled out of me and I wake up to find him nuzzled at my breast drinking his fill of milk. All alone. In my bed. Some may count this as a nightmare but in the dream I find it all perfectly normal and after cleaning him off…go back to sleep.
2) That I give birth to my little boy except he’s not a little boy he’s a little girl. So all the stuff I plastered with his name on it needs to be redone. Not only does he come out a little girl he can apparently talk right out of the womb and informs me that despite his gender he wants to be a little boy. Confused yet? Then he/she tells me that he wants his nursery to be decorated in football theme. See, the gender thing is fine with me (I will love and support my child no matter their “gender preference” and have often lamented the horrible gender stereotyping of baby things) but the real nightmare here is the football theme. ICK, I say. Football? At least make it soccer. Or hockey. I am in Canada after all.
3) That I give birth and everything goes well except that they take the baby from me at the hospital and hide him somewhere. The nurses then inform me that in order to lose the baby weight I put on I have to walk around the hospital, read the clues they’ve left me on the walls, and find my baby. That’s right, I’ve just given birth and I’m put through some torturous weight loss scheme at the hospital. Oh, and when I find a clue sometimes there’s a cupcake attached just to keep my strength up.
Last night there was a super moon out and I always dream heaviest around the full moon. I had the window shade open so I could bathe in Her lovely light as I drifted off to sleep. I don’t remember any dreams from last night and actually feel very rested today so perhaps the moon blessed me with a night of darkness and good sleep.
Which means I’m in for it tonight. Hoo-boy.
“To Remember Is Painful
To Forget Is Impossible.”
Last year on May 5th I gave birth at 19.5 weeks. He didn’t make it. This is the story of what I went through that day in hopes that it will help another somehow and that sharing it will help ease the pain I still feel. Read at your own discretion, I’ve decided to hold nothing back.
Apropos of nothing, here’s a video of adorable Japanese mascot commercials. Just because.
I’m 33 weeks and counting. My feet are still swollen so much that the only shoes I’m wearing are flip flops despite the colder spring weather. Babybean has gone from movements only I can feel to protruding limbs that everyone can see. It’s something else to sit and watch your belly ripple and bumpy bits of flesh poke out of it while you have no control over anything in that area. I’m not sure I like the sensation but I am fascinated by it. Even Fatherbean gets to see the show once in awhile if he can drag his ass away from TV Tropes on the internet long enough to take an interest. I’m freaking tired ALL THE TIME now. No energy to do even the simple tasks. Which is pissing me off as the nursery isn’t even clean let alone finished painted and I don’t have time to do it with work draining every last inch of my sanity and…and…*cries*. Oh, yeah, the crying. Lots of it. I have reason to be but also, GAGH. Too much.
Agis is gone and I miss him. Spitha is still here and being awesome but I do miss the youthful energy that Agis brought to the house. Agis isn’t doing well in his new foster home and is having aggression issues. They will have their work cut out for them and for awhile it looked as if he was going to be shipped off yet again – which set me off into a world of despair that had me anxiously thinking I’d let him go to his doggy death – but thankfully a dog behaviorist has stepped up to the plate and things are progressing slowly. I feel horrible and guilty and like I failed him. But I had to do what was best for him and for my family and need to take solace in the fact I did just that.
I’m also on some meds. Cipralex to be exact. Just a bit to start and it seems to be working. I’m less anxious and other than normal pregnancy stuff seem to be taking small steps to enjoying this last couple months. Also the Dr overseeing my therapy sessions with the Comorbidity Clinician reminds me of David Tenant’s Dr Who. Seriously. He’s young and talks JUST LIKE DR WHO. Even Fatherbean agrees.
Now, I just need to get that room done. Oh yeah, I’ve also been crafting – painting things and knitting things for baby – so I’m feeling a bit more accomplished. Today was a “sick” day from work (thanks to a killer migraine this morning) and I managed to finish painting Babybean’s step stool tonight. And eat ice cream. That was the important part.
I want to try and get back into my blogging groove though it’s hard. The energy being sapped from me often leaves me speechless or unable to communicate. With the pills settling in and life taking a turn for the better though I think I can get back into the swing of it.