Queen of Rambles

Things are looking up–especially my uterus. I wore my maternity belt today, and it really helped. Of course, having a big ol’ strap of elastic strapped around my middle is not the most comfortable solution, but a little discomfort is a small price to pay when compared to debilitating pain. And it is almost debilitating when it strikes. In fact, the nurse in the hospital told me that women with this condition should always try to keep a hand on the counter or wall because you never know when you’ll have a sharp pain and collapse. Fun times!

But today was better. A lot better. I was even feeling well enough to keep my social date, and I think that made a huge difference in my attitude. It was great to get out of the house, and the weather even cooperated. Sure, I was drenched with sweat when I got home, but I think it only hit the 80s today. On Tuesday I was watching the news and the heat index for the area was 117. I wouldn’t have wanted to be outside, even if I was healthy.

I’m really pleased with my new friend and hope she liked me! She used to work in advertising up in NYC but decided she wanted to do something more meaningful. Now she’s a kindergarten teacher. Talk about a switch! She’s very nice and I think we are similar in many ways. I want to have her over to the house soon, but don’t know when that is likely to happen. It would be really great to have another person in the area to hang around with.

I’m feeling a lot more confident about the Toronto trip now that we’ve decided to update our plans a little. Originally we were going to drive out to Ohio to our friends’ new house and then drive up to Toronto with them. I am disappointed that we won’t be doing that because I really wanted to see Julie’s new house and I was looking forward to road tripping with them, but our new plan cuts down on driving time significantly and I think it will be better for my dear nerve bundle.

We’ve finally decided on a name for the baby–Thumper. He’s always thumping me, so it’s the perfect name. Ok, ok, so it’s not really the name for the baby. Instead it’s the nickname for the baby until he’s born. I’ll be 30 weeks pregnant tomorrow and we’ve just now come up with a name for the fetus. At this rate we’ll have our baby naming ceremony in conjunction with his first birthday.

I watched Coach Carter this week and am having a really hard time figuring out one of the plot points. In the movie, the basketball coach wants academic progress reports from all the team members’ teachers since they are supposed to maintain a certain GPA. The teachers are very unsupportive and act like they’ve never heard of such a thing before. I have never worked in a high school that didn’t require the teachers to turn in bi-weekly (sometimes weekly!) progress reports to the athletic department for every student enrolled in the sports program. Parents could also request bi-weekly (or weekly) progress reports that went to the office at the same time as these other reports. It was just part of the over-worked/underpaid nature of teaching (though by my third year of teaching I finally had my act together enough to be able to print out weekly progress reports for every student. In the end it saved a lot of problems since the kids could immediately see what they were missing and we could quickly correct any of my clerical errors). It all has to do with student eligibility. In both Oregon and Oklahoma the state athletic department people (no idea what they are really called) have the responsibility of making sure all student athletes meet the state’s eligibility requirements. If a kid is playing a game and doesn’t have the proper grades, that game will be forfeited if the truth comes out. When I was in high school my school got to go to the state championships because of a big grade eligibility scandal at the school that was really supposed to go. Is it really that different in California? It very well could be since every state makes its own rules.

Anyway. . .

Totally different subject. . . .

Well, I think I am out of subjects for tonight. I could talk about a statement made at my birthing class, but I’m sure you are all getting bored with the pregnancy talk.

When have I ever let that stop me?

Apparently, our next week’s lesson will mainly be about what we should pack in the FOUR bags we bring to the hospital. You read that right. FOUR!

We’re only going to be there a couple of days. How much crap could we possibly need? I’ll have to have lots of clean underwear and my basic toiletries. I’ll also want a couple of pairs of clean pajamas, some pads, an outfit to go home in, bras, nursing pads and maybe a book and a fully loaded Ipod. Of course, I’ll also have to have some pillows and you have to bring your own labor ball at this hospital (I already have an exercise ball that I’ll bring). The baby will need some onsies and some diapers and a couple of receiving blankets. I’m going to breast feed, so I won’t need to take in a bunch of bottle feeding paraphernalia. I’ve heard it is best not to even buy any of it for back-up if you really want to breast feed since it will be too easy to give in to the temptation of plugging the baby into the bottle.

I don’t think all that is going to require four bags, so it will be interesting to see what the teacher thinks we need to have. I was talking to my mom and she said my sister had three really big bags, but my sister is a freak. She had one dufflebag just stuffed full of outfits for the baby, then proceeded to change her outfit every twenty minutes (even though the doctor advised against it because of Laynee’s broken collar bone! Grrrrrr! Sometimes I want to slap my sister silly.). Unlike my sister, I am planning on giving birth to a human being with nerve endings, not a Cabbage Patch Kid. I think a baby just needs to be in a warm cuddly outfit and not have it’s little limbs jerked around all the time in the name of fashion.

I don’t think I ever told the story of the day I dressed Braxton, my nephew. I was babysitting him since Lexie was up in the hospital. She decided she wanted to see him, so I got to drive him up there. He’d been playing in the mud and was a mess, so I figured it was a good idea to put some clean clothes on his little body. I know she is a freak about him wearing non-dorky clothes, so I picked out a blue t-shirt with a red design on it and picked out a pair of red shorts that matched the design. As soon as we walked in the hospital room she freaked out and made her asshole boyfriend take Braxton out to the car and change him into an outfit that she happened to have in the car. The shorts and t-shirt weren’t bought together as a set, so heaven help the dorky aunt who didn’t realize a one-year-old boy would spontaneously combust if not dressed to perfection.

Did I ever mention that my sister could win a Nobel prize if only they had a category for Most Annoying Person on Earth? Because she is. Seriously. The only thing my mom, dad and I all have in common is the overwhelming urge to slap her.

But enough of that. A few of you have met her in person and know exactly what I’m talking about. Those of you who haven’t met her, just count your blessings. She tries to be a nice person and she really does have a good heart, but she just doesn’t have a lick of common sense in her little pea brain.

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 28th, 2005 at 6:46 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.