Nothing to Write About

I just complained to hubby dearest that I had nothing to write about, because who wants to hear about what I'm thinking about?

No one, that's who. But I'm writing it anyway so suck it.

I mean, who wants to hear about how the dog's incessant, unfounded whining to go outside in this crazy heat is driving me crazy, as is his nonstop private parts licking, and how the cat won't stop stealing his bed which just leads to more whining.

I don't even want to hear about that stuff.

And who wants to hear about how I REALLY want to go buy some new clothes because I am so majorly over the two skirts, one pair of yoga pants and two shirts I have that are actually suitable to wear in public (and the yoga pants only make the list because by public I mean at prenatal yoga class). Or how I am a teensy bit concerned that the non-maternity tops I've been stretching over my belly are actually now ruined for good. Also, I am tired of flip flops and low-heeled sandals.

No one except maybe occasionally me wants to hear about my made up schedule of wake up, take homeopathic tabs, get up, maybe go on a walk, putter around, maybe make smoothies while hubster gets ready for work, take my iron and orange juice, say goodbye to hubster, explain to the dog that he doesn't need to lie next to the door because hubster isn't coming home in twenty minutes, clean up the smoothie-making materials, drink said smoothie, fill up water bottle, play a game on the computer, make some toast and refill water bottle, check email and other necessary Web sites, check the pet's water bowls, pee (for what will seem like the tenth time already), shuffle around papers on the table and counter, balance checkbook, glance at the clock to see if it is time for lunch, realize it isn't and try to think of something to write on this blog...

Yawn. Maybe a nap will help wile away the hours.

One good thing about today is that it is Thursday, so hubster won't have to go into the office tomorrow and I will have someone around to talk to who actually speaks English, rather than trying to get some sort of meaningful conversation out of the furry, four-legged members of our family.

You Know What's a Good Movie?

Rachel Getting Married. Now that is a quality flick.

Punting

Not that I like to necessarily call it this, but last night my husband characterized our decision to put both last names on the baby's birth certificate as "punting." Which, essentially, it is. Once they're both on there, we can figure it out later, or let the kiddo figure it out. No pressure or anything (although Jacobsen is obviously a much more less-abnormal last name than Demerice - just sayin').

I think it was a good decision. One of the best, you might say.

Working from home and other things we do to prepare for birth

I started working from home yesterday. It's kind of nice, but at the same time it sucks because my co-workers still at the office aren't attuned to the ways of pregnancy, so it feels like they think I can once again do everything now that I am at home and can, theoretically, work in my pajamas (if I stayed in my pajamas all day I would also stay in bed - not getting dressed makes me feel like a worthless member of society).

In reality, I can't do anymore than I could when I was at the office in uncomfortable clothes; now I just am able to try and get more than six hours of sleep a night and I can walk around all uncomfortable like in my flip flops and eat little mini snacks all day.

On the plus side, working from home has seriously helped my timing - there are some things I do every day. Some of these are specifically for my health and have nothing to do with baby, some have everything to do with baby.

For example: for the last I don't know how many years, we've made smoothies in the morning for breakfast. I swear these smoothies are a huge contributor to my overall good health, both before and during this pregnancy. They're made with plain, nonfat organic yogurt (I don't want my milk tainted with chemicals and don't want to drink a cow's milk that has been, either), a mix of frozen berries (we buy them by the two bagfuls at Costco), a banana, lean whey protein powder, ground flax seed and now black strap molasses (for the iron).

I also take, twice a day, an herbal liquid iron supplement, along with an iron tincture made with yellow dock to help the iron absorb (both are not so yummy so I shoot them with orange juice - vitamin C also helps absorption). Calcium inhibits iron absorption so I have to time the iron to be on an empty stomach (for maximum effectiveness) and to not eat for a while afterward. They say wait an hour but I can't do that, so I usually call it good at about 45 minutes. The iron supplement stays in the fridge so I didn't bring that to work with me - too many questions when people see it in the communal fridge.

Two times a day I take three little homeopathic tabs made up of arnica and some other stuff that I can't spell or pronounce. It's friendly name is EZ-Birth and it's from Canada. They taste like sugar (delicious!) and I just let them dissolve under my tongue. Can't take these when I have just had orange juice or brushed my teeth, or eaten or drank anything else that is strong and will overpower the teeny bits of magic herbs in the tabs, so that's 15 minutes on either side.

I'm also drinking 2 - 3 cups a day of pregnancy tea, which has raspberry leaf, chamomile flowers, nettle leaf, dandelion leaf, oat straw and peppermint. Good for your uterus, I'm told. It's tasty. No cross-contamination issues here, although if I drink it later in the evening it becomes good for peeing.

Also, vitamins, 3 times a day. Not a big deal, I just have to remember to take them.

And evening primrose oil. Not to go into detail, but suffice it to say it's not going in my mouth, so no timing issues here, although I've found some times are better than others.

All in all, we do so much to keep these babies inside all warm and nestley (not the chocolate) and then - boom! 37 weeks hits and it's all you can do to get the baby out. It makes me SO grateful to have chosen the traditional, non-medical path of care, though. If I was doing all this with chemically based, non-natural products I would probably be pretty sick and, even worse, would be sending all those chemicals to my baby.

With this regimen, the most unnatural thing I'm taking is probably the plastic of the little cup that I use to measure out the iron supplement.

What's in a name?

So last night we made a very important decision.

The baby's last name will be Demerice Jacobsen. Put it all on the birth certificate and then we can sort out the logistics later.

Yesterday

Yesterday was July 7. My husband's birthday.

Also, yesterday marked 37 weeks of pregnancy.

For a good portion of my life, for over a decade, one of the goals I've had for every day has been, "Do not have a baby today."

For the first time, that changed yesterday. Yesterday was the go ahead date, the date where this whole game changed.

What's that feeling in my belly? On July 6, the answer was "hope it's just a practice contraction." Today? "Hey, maybe the baby's on the way!"

Last night I laid in bed trying to envision the birth, putting good images in my head.

Instead, I ended up thinking about how we need to clean the bedroom and move the storage chest thing out and the bed over so that the tub can go in, and when we move the bed over we need to also move over the wall hangings above the bed because I have this thing with symmetry and I would not be happy having to look at wall hangings that weren't hanging centered over the bed and we should also take this opportunity to dust the floor trim and actually vacuum all the way to the walls and where will the dog go during the birth and will our families just give us 72 hours to get used to each other and our new little family and for me to heal before they barge in and where am I supposed to get this food that we should stock up on and why is our freezer so small.

So maybe the visualizations aren't what I need to be doing right now.

Fences are Good Neighbors

It should be known that I love animals. I'm a softy for them and am constantly thinking of new ways to convince my husband that we can adopt just one more cat and/or dog. Usually, it's the cat and/or dog with heart trouble or three legs or is 90 percent blind ("but I can help them find what they need!").

So...

My neighbor is an ass. Quite honestly. Almost so much he is a donkey. Or a burro (although, truth be told, I kind of want a donkey-slash-burro and should maybe not say such mean things about those kind, gentle animals). But we did build an entire fence just to not have to be subjected to the audio and visual yickiness from next door.

He has roommates (which I thought didn't happen past the age of 30) and they throw loud parties and leave their empties on the back porch (again, not past 30?). One of the old roommates had a dog - a female German Shepherd - who was made to stay outside, like, all the time.

Eventually roommate #1 goes away. Much rejoicing that there is no longer a sad, lonely puppy crying next to my house.

But along comes new roommate. New roommate ALSO brings with him a dog, this time a long-haired little dachshund with the sweetest little yip; we'll call her Enid (although her real name is so much more cute). Enid is tied to a stake in the middle of the yard all day long. Sometimes he doesn't bring her in at night, so it turns into 24+ hours that dear, adorable little Enid is staked in the yard (if he doesn't want other dogs in the house, WHY KEEP GETTING DOG-OWNING ROOMMATES?).

Enid yips when people are outside at the house, either leaving in their car or driving into the driveway. They ignore her. Enid yips because she is freakin' bored and has no shelter and has empty food and water bowls. They ignore her.

Enid likes us. We'll go over when no one is there to give her a biscuit or two. We toss her toys back within reach of her tie-out. I cry when someone comes home and I see her get so excited and wag her short little tail so hard it looks like it will launch her into the air, but they only ignore her or she gets a pat and her bowl gets moved out of the hot sun. This literally just happened and is why I'm sitting here angrily banging on the keyboard, sniffling and wiping my eyes).

My dog gets a biscuit every time he actually eats all the food we put into his bowl (it doesn't happen all the time). He gets fresh, cold water every single day. He has a basket of toys on the ground that he knows he can go to at anytime if he wants something to chew on. He has a cat to chase around, He gets a walk almost every single day and gets to take trips to the dog park several times a month.

We should be thanked for being such good pet parents (both have been "socially customized," both have regular vet appointments and are licensed...) and the roommate should not get to have a dog. As it is, we both get to have dogs.

That doesn't seem fair to the dog.

Or to the neighbors, who think they should get to take the dog and let the dog come live with them because they would clearly be much better, loving pet parents.