Setting the scene: Matt’s upstairs working on putting the latch back on our bedroom door and I’m downstairs with a friend of mine playing along with Only Connect.*
Me: Did you just hear Matt?
E: I don’t think so? …Maybe he was calling for help because he broke his hand.
Me: But if he had a broken hand he could still come downstairs for help.
E: Maybe he broke his leg…. But then he could still at least crawl closer to the stairs and yell louder.
Both of us continue watching Only Connect.
A while later Matt comes down and joins us.
Matt: It turns out this lock has a “feature.” If you push this bit in… Demonstrates and shows that part of bolt will pop out, even if the knob was in the “unlocked” position. Well, I didn’t know this and I closed the door.
Me: And you locked yourself in the bedroom?
Matt: And I locked myself in the bedroom.
Me: Ah… were you yelling for me earlier?
Matt: Yes, I was hoping you’d be able to help me get out.
Me: I thought I heard something. We figured if you really needed something you’d keep yelling.
To be fair, I was snuggling a sleeping baby and didn’t want to disturb him and I didn’t think Matt was up to anything inherently dangerous. I also didn’t realize that locking yourself into a room when the lock doesn’t even require a key was even an option. It was, however, our specific choice of lock that led to the problem in the first place.
The door originally had a deadbolt installed on it and it was just chunky and ugly. “Low-profile” deadbolts apparently don’t exist (except some super-mod and silver varieties), but I did find a pocket-door lock in oil rubbed bronze that would fit the existing hole and blend into the new finish. Instead of a key you can unlock it from the other side with a screwdriver (high security was not a concern of ours for an interior door lock). Because it’s designed for a pocket door however, part of it pops out so you can pull the door out of the pocket in the wall…. but if that bit’s extended it will act like a lock on a swinging door.
*Holy crap the puzzles are hard. It’s even harder because there are a number British and European references that I’m not really exposed to in the US.
Matt’s starting calling Wesley “Wessels” so I came to obvious (seeming) conclusion that he was having a nerd moment.
Me: Nuclear wessels!
Matt: *blank look*
Me: Nuclear wessels! … you do know the reference, right?
Me: The Voyage Home! Star Trek!! THE ONE WITH THE WHALES!!!
Why yes, I did get progressively more hysterical as I tried to explain. I’m pretty sure The One With the Whales is the official alternate title for The Voyage Home. I’m also sure I’m not the only one who would immediately think of this scene after hearing the word “wessels.”
And for the non-nerds out there, if you’re wondering why this is such a well known part of the movie, keep in mind that it came out in 1986.
During the cold war.
And there’s a Russian guy wandering around then-present-day San Francisco.*
Asking for nukes.
*Yes Star Trek is based in the future, they time-traveled because they needed whales, ok?
Look who’s 2 months! He actually turned 2 months a week ago, but I wanted to get the stats from his doctor visit.
This little chunker is now 13lbs 2oz and 23″ tall. He jumped up from the 40% to the 70% for weight in the last month so he may not be a monster baby yet, but he’s working on it!
We’re just starting to get “real” smiles out of Wesley which I gotta admit is pretty damn cool. He’s more and more alert, making eye contact, and usually sleeping about 5 hours at night. Basically he’s a pretty darn good baby–he even survived his 2 month vaccinations like a champ!
And now for your monthly rant:
I’m not a crazed feminist by any means. Quite frankly I believe there are differences between the sexes, but “different” doesn’t mean “superior.” For either gender. I recognize there are common preferences that may be used for targeted marketing (ex. a lot of little girls do like pink), but I am sick to death of overly stereotypical advertising. This means that nothing brings out my feminist side quite like looking at baby gear.
Men Are Not Idiots
At least, they’re no more likely to be idiots than women. A lot of baby commercials portray men as completely incompetent. I even have seen onsies with the head/arm/leg holes labeled and “Dad, you’ve got this” printed in the center. This sort of thing makes me feel downright twitchy. It’s not cool to assume women can’t use power tools, or code, or be athletic, and it just as not cool to assume that men handle babies (or cook, or sew, etc). In fact, dads can be pretty badass.
There’s More to Life Than Gray
Whenever I would look at baby clothes and sort them by “gender neutral” everything would be gray. Gray with sheep. Seriously? There are lots of gender neutral color and pattern options, how did it get limited to gray? And apparently sheep are the only “neutral” animal? If you’re trying to find gender neutral options, your best bet it to search under “boy” because that usually seems to mean “not pink or floral”
Which brings me to….
Gender is Not a Color
I was searching Amazon for pacifiers the other day and rather than list the colors as “blue/green” and “pink/purple” they would be listed as “boy colors” and “girl colors.” There was even a set that had a fox on a blue background and a raccoon on a tan background that was labeled as “boy colors.” Is it that hard to label things by color or pattern and leave gender out of it? Maybe your little girl likes cars. Maybe your little boy likes pink. These things don’t have to be gender specific. I have to give a shoutout to Primary because a while back I saw an advertisement of theirs that said pink wasn’t just for girls and showed a bunch of adorable little boys rockin’ some pink.
That all being said, I don’t think children need all gender neutral clothes and gear. We definitely dress Wesley in a slightly more “boyish” style and if we had had a girl I would have fully embraced pink and ruffles. I still wanted a gender neutral base wardrobe and accessories/gear though so if we have a second kid we’ll have plenty of things to reuse.
We had a bunch of family in town for my baby shower on Saturday and Matt’s mom was staying with us. Sunday morning they decided to head to church together before the rest of the family came over for brunch.
Matt: You’re a veteran, maybe they’ll do something special for you for Memorial Day.
MIL: Matt, I’m not dead yet.
I may not agree with our government’s choices, but anyone who signs up to fight for their country and anyone who has lost their life in the process, they are truly strong and courageous, and worthy of our respect and admiration.
We didn’t do anything for Memorial Day, but did have a fabulous weekend and got to see a bunch of family we don’t get to see much of. All the parents trekked over from WI and both my sisters were able to make it (from KS and CA) which was absolutely amazing. I had a fabulous shower hosted by (one of) my BFFs and I’m just feeling so special and loved and thrilled that this baby is going to have a truly awesome community of family and friends around him. #PregnancySappiness
I’ve also hit Pregnancy Level: Hobbit Feet and had some seriously impressive swelling over the weekend. My mom freaked out a bit and demanded my sister give her professional opinion. Sister asked me if I was up to date on my rabies vaccine because she’s a veterinarian and not an MD. I picked up some sexy compression socks took it easy for the weekend and now my feet have shrunk to slightly puffy.
I still have this weird feeling of guilt when I take up the comfiest spot, don’t get up much when guests are over, and ask Matt to do simple things like get me some water because I just don’t feel like being on my feet anymore. Matt, on the other hand, has been scolding me to take it easy since forever. I’ve just been stubbornly resisting because I am not a fragile little flower… only now it kind of hurts to move and I’m tired so I’m giving in. Stubbornness and pregnancy do not mix terrible well.
I’ve got a prenatal appointment on Friday and an onsite Nurse at work if anything seems concerning before that, but I was under the impression that crazy feet swelling was a fairly typical pregnancy symptom. Plus I’m still a bit scarred from the Doctor who insisted my Asthma flair up might be a pulmonary embolism and told me to get to an ER like, NOW. Spoiler Alert: It wasn’t and the ER docs thought I was a little crazy.
First off, I want to wish a very happy Mother’s Day to all the moms, moms-to-be, step-moms, and foster moms out there. You’re all amazing!
It may be my first first sort-of Mother’s Day, but we didn’t do anything special–more work on the nursery and lots of naps for me. Matt did surprise me with the Eames elephant I’ve been lusting after though! He had planned to surprise me with it for the baby shower, but the color he knew I wanted was no longer available. He broke down on our anniversary and asked me if another color would be ok and it just arrived a couple days ago… so it’s sort a combo anniversary/mother’s day/baby shower gift.
I think I will name him Alonso. (Allons-y!)
As for, I’m officially in my Third Trimester now–home stretch baby! I’ve been steadily hitting the pregnancy milestones too. Yay?
Having Issues Getting out of Bed
Not because I’m huge (I definitely look pregnant–although not in the above photo oddly enough–and am seeing numbers on the scale that are distressing-yet-normal, but I’m not hugely pregnant), everything just hurts. My pelvis especially hurts when I’ve been laying down for a while and try and get upright again. It’s similar in feeling to having done waaay too many crunches so your abs start to burn and rebel, only lower down. The last midwife I saw sent me a video of some stretches to do, so hopefully they help.
Stairs are Hard
I finally had to give up and recruit Matt to carry my laundry down to the basement. I can handle our main stairs fine, but our basement stairs are narrow and I’m a little unbalanced at the moment so I need to hang on to the hand rail. Suddenly there’s not a whole lot of space for the basket unless I balance it against my belly which is its own level of awkward.
I also feeling mildly bad for the slow, plodding way I ascend stairs when I’m out in public. Then I figure, the stairs are wide enough, if you have a problem with my speed just go around. I did have to come to a full stop on a landing at work because two ladies were walking up side-by-side and chatting. That’s fine and all, but if you’re taking up the full width of the stairs and someone’s trying to head the opposite way switch to single file for like 2 steps. This is even just general politeness and not purely because I’m a cranky pregnant lady.
The Cat is Pissed
Schmutz was napping on my belly the other day when the little dude starting kicking. He’s now big enough that you can feel (and often see) the kicks on the outside. Schmutz turned and glared at me since she’s not used to be kicked by her current bed (and it was clearly my fault). Mort’s started obsessively kneading my belly and then deciding to sleep next to me instead. I don’t know if he thinks I’m too lumpy or what.
So Many Kicks!
The first movements I really felt were just from the kiddo shifting around (I think). I would just get pressure changes in a specific area as he wedged himself into a new position. The last few weeks I’ve been getting more and more definite kicks and they’re getting increasingly more visible on the outside of my belly. They started off feeling like weird little muscle spasm-y things, but he’s gotten some good shots to my ribs lately and thrown a couple punches that have made me wince a little bit. I am really not looking forward to the day he discovers my bladder…
One of my very first pregnancy symptoms was some mild heartburn (but we were also eating our way through a large batch of chili so I thought I was just getting old and decrepit at the time). Now I’m getting legit heartburn and popping Tums like candy. I get heartburn by so much as thinking about food.
This actually hasn’t been bad at all! Most people keep pretty quiet or share the “this worked well for me, but it’s honestly a crapshoot” kind of stories (which are actually useful). The only person who rubbed my the wrong way was, oddly enough, the midwife at one of my prenatal appointments. I was talking about how I was considering a water birth because I am deathly afraid of needles* and don’t handle pain well.** Her response was that I clearly just needed to educate myself further because it didn’t seem to her like a good reason to try a water birth. I sort of wanted to shoot back “look lady, the reason I’m already freaking out about this is BECAUSE I was reading about it and looking at my options.” Then she seemed a little miffed that I didn’t have any questions. Maybe it’s because I’m actually reading about what to expect and I hadn’t encountered anything out of the ordinary at the moment? Most of the midwives I’ve seen at my appointments have been awesome, but this one was just not a good match for me.
My mom (of course!) also hopped on the unsolicited advice train after looking at our baby registry. She means well, but she started questioning some of the bigger items (Were we sure we wanted this car seat instead of that car seat because so-and-so really liked that one). While she definitely brought up some good points, it just stressed me out that all the previous research I did was wrong so I re-researched everything…aaaand ended up with the exact same products I picked out the first time. Moral of the story: everyone is going find different products that fit their individual needs.
These have been happening for a while. I don’t tend to remember my dreams but I definitely have while pregnant! The last notable one was a nightmare about how I was never ever going to get the ceiling fan I wanted for the nursery. I was shipped a broken one, then someone tried to convince me it was perfectly fine and I couldn’t exchange it anyway because it was the very last one ever. The next day I called Lowes to check on the status of my order because the dream may have freaked me out a bit….
Bye Bye Wedding Ring
My fingers have started to swell enough that it’s getting really hard to get my rings off. I had to resort to some windex the other day, so going forward I’m probably safer just leaving them off before they get solidly stuck. My ankles are starting to swell a bit too, but thankfully they haven’t morphed into full-on cankles yet.
More notable moments have been going to work with my skirt inside-out (thankfully it was stripey pattern and really not noticeable!) and getting halfway to my car before realizing I was still in my slippers. I also nearly forgot Matt’s birthday. Ooops. In general I’m just spacey as heck and very easily losing my train of thought.
Glucose Challenge Test–PASSED!
The internet really builds this up as being awful, but it wasn’t that bad. The drink they give you is sort of a like a half-flat soda, so not exactly tasty, but not completely vile either (I went with the orange, but everyone I know recommended a different flavor). I chose to have mine done first thing in the morning and grab breakfast after since I’ve heard any sugar consumption (not just sweets, but things like fruit too) beforehand can mess up your results. How true this is, I don’t really know, but I really didn’t want to get stuck doing the 3 hour test so I figured it couldn’t hurt.
* Really, it’s bad. My regular doctor tried giving me valium before a shot once and it didn’t do a thing. Nitrous Oxide at the dentist doesn’t have any effect until after the shots are done (ie I calm down again). I currently have my own stash of prescription lidocaine to use before blood work, but I still get super anxious until it’s over Yeah, I’m kind of mess.
Busy editing a backlog of photos… I’ve got actual projects coming soon (custom door/window casings! drywall!). In the meantime I hope these make you smile.
The first time I saw James Corden was on Doctor Who and I sort of adored him. This goes to show he is even more awesome than I originally thought!
Cookie Monster can step it a notch too.
Not gonna lie, Katie Perry grates on my nerves something awful (she was waaay over-played on the radio station they played at my job years ago). This is one of my favorite song parodies though!
Don’t know if as many people will find this one amusing–it’s definitely for the typography nerds! If you’ve never seen the music video for Lady Gaga’s Poker Face it’s definitely worth watching because they did a great job parodying the video AND the music.
We’ve been hard at work this weekend and I have more detailed posts to come, but I am officially out of commission today. My dad and I custom routed door and window casings and I was stupid and didn’t put a mask on until I realized how much sawdust was ending up in my nose (we were about 1/2 way done). Consequently, I woke up on Saturday with an obnoxious asthma flair up which decided to linger.
Sunday wasn’t any better.
4am: Cats keep fighting with each other and Matt decides to separate them. He grabs Schmutz and closes her in the bedroom with us.
5 am: Mort has been crying outside the door incessantly because he wants snuggles.
7 am: I give up trying to sleep (partly because I can’t really breathe) and get up. Notice Schmutz has crapped over Matt’s side of the bed. She would have crapped directly on Matt, but the blanket was in the way. Thank god for duvet covers.
10 am: We start mudding the ceiling. Due to limited ladders and my on-going asthma attack I’m mostly acting as a gopher and watching my dad’s mudding technique.
11 am: Despite doing next to nothing, I’m exhausted and go and lie down… except I can’t exactly lie down because of my chest congestion so I go an prop myself up on pillows and wallow in guilt for not being more useful. I am amazing at wallowing in guilt, even if things weren’t really under my control.
12 pm: I officially sound like a Muppet.
1 pm: Pass out on the couch, because I’m still exhausted.
4 pm: Trip to Urgent Care for a nebulizer treatment. Officially my first DIY-Induced trip to urgent care. The doctor treating me tells me that because I’m pregnant I should go to the ER to check for a pulmonary embolism because pregnancy=higher risk factor.
6:30 pm: Grab some take-out and double check with the emergency midwife line. Midwife agrees that even though it seems unnecessary, I should go to the ER just to rule it out. Ok, fine.
7:30 pm: Get to the ER where the doctors look mildly perplexed and inform me that the only way they can test for for a pulmonary embolism is to do a CT scan, ie expose the baby to radiation. Awesome. They also tell me I have no actually symptoms of a pulmonary embolism except for trouble breathing.. which was clearly brought on by a specific event and responded to asthma treatment. I opt out of the CT scan and am given another nebulizer treatment and a dose of prednisone. They also gave me a prescription for a few more days of predisone and a new inhaler since mine was nearly out.
9:00 pm: Drop off prescriptions and am told it will be a 15-20 minute wait.
9:45 pm: Prescriptions finally ready.
10:00 pm: Swing by grocery store to pick up breakfast for tomorrow.
10:30 pm: Make it home.
Hopefully nothing else goes wrong in the next hour….
Looks like we’re officially expecting a little man this July! This also means first baby pics! Wheeeee!
I am notoriously bad at deciphering ultrasound images, but I could usually figure out the head and spine. Once the tech started pointing out the stomach and kidneys….. um, sure.
I just think this shot’s kind of hilarious. This is a frontal view of the face and if you look for it you can see the left eyeball, the nasal cavity, and the mouth open in a fish-faced little pucker.
Everything’s looking normal for the kiddo, but I do need to go back in another 4-6 weeks for them to check if I may have Oligohydramnios (ie Big Scary Word Thing that may or may not be an issue). In the meantime I’ll just be trying to drink water like it’s going out of style.
Now that we know the gender, I can finally get cracking on the nursery design! My current inspiration is a selection of Yago Partal’s Zoo Portraits. I picked up a calendar a few years back just to dissect it for the artwork (calendars are an awesome source of cheap art!). We had them in the hallway in our apartment, but I think they’re awesome for a baby room–whimsical, but not overly cutesy. It’s harder to find bedding to coordinate with art than vice-versa so the prints may possibly get swapped out. We’ll see…
Next week my dad and brother-in-law are coming to work on the nursery. All the drywall is up on the walls, but we still have to tape and mud (and sand and mud and sand and mud), and do the whole ceiling. It also looks like we’re going to have to route some custom casings, because despite the fact that the door and window casings in this house are the simplest design ever (apart from just a plain 1×6) they are impossible to find.* Hopefully my dad will save the day with his router! This also means we should have actual house stuff to show in the near future! Woot!
*We found something really close once, but despite the fact that it was the company’s standard back-cut knife, there would be $200 setup fee plus the cost of materials. For 2 doors and 2 windows (and only the vertical casings) that seemed excessive, so we’re DIYing this shit!
Me: I don’t think [brother-in-law] is going to take my crappy parenting advice. He was wondering what to do about an 8 year old who won’t stop asking questions, so I suggested “why don’t you turn it into the game of questions?”
I’ve been a little ADD this week for some reason. My best guess is that my energy level is finally going up and just hit me a little too fast to process. I actually started writing this post when I was supposed to be finishing up previous one. That one got posted a day later than planned and I kept adding to this because I don’t do Twitter.
There were some reps from Lifetime Fitness in our lobby at work today. They were advertising free seminars on sugar and carbs. I considered asking if there would be free samples.
I’m pretty sure Mort falls pretty low on the emotional intelligence scale. He’ll try and play with Schmutz, she’ll get all pissy, flatten her ears down and growl at him like she wants rip his throat out. And then he just stares at her in mild confusion and tries to play with her again. Aren’t you supposed to be able to understand the body language of your own species? It’s like if someone was brandishing a knife at me screaming “Die bitch die!” and I was all “Let me give you a hug and we can be besties!”
Every single stupid person I’ve encountered in the last week has been from Portland.* I’ve never been to Portland, but based on current experience I can only assume that it really needs to get its shit together. And maybe put more birds on things.
I want to quite my job and design non-crappy ceiling fans. Really.
Matt started to have a small freak out about having everything ready for the baby. I am so not used to being the calm, rational one in our relationship. It was mildly unsettling.
Against my better judgement, I got sucked into a political argument on Facebook. What outraged me the most was that someone replied to me and clearly did not understand how quotations work (she also missed my point entirely, but that seemed like the smaller issue). I was all ready to reply to her with just a link to the “Blog” of “Unnecessary” Quotations Marks, but then the thread got deleted. It was probably for the best.
Actually, any time I get sucked into a crazy political discussion that gets to the point where people aren’t even trying to acknowledge there are other viewpoints besides theirs and all I’m doing is repeating myself and I should just stop except now I’m pissed and have some irrational desire to have the last word even though I know it’s really pointless… then I think I should reply with a link to Wil Wheaton collating paper. If you want to steal this idea, feel free to substitute whatever random link you choose. It just has to leave people questioning “wtf just happened here?” If I get sucked into a real life discussion that deteriorates that far, I’m just going to scream “THIS IS HOW SOCIETY BREAKS DOWN!” and run away before anyone can respond.
I thought first baby kicks were supposed to be all soft and bubbly like “butterflies” or “popcorn popping” according to the books. I started thinking I was having crazy muscle spasms or something because it kept feeling like I was getting elbowed in the abdomen, only the calls were coming from inside the house. I asked about it was told, nope, that sounds likes baby kicks. I’m a little afraid of what this is going to feel like once the kid is larger than a potato.
Matt thought the baby kicks sounded adorable, so I started elbowing him in the stomach.
While sitting at the table I suddenly became convinced that I had broken a rib. Apparently spontaneous rib dislocation is skipped in all the pregnancy books. Instead they waste their time talking about butterfly-like kicking.
On my drive into work today I was behind a truck with both a “Flammable Gasses” and “Non-Flammable Gasses” sign attached to it. That’s a pretty serious mixed message.
Netflix emailed me telling me they just added a TV show they think I’d like: Ultimate Beastmaster. Given that I mostly watch nature documentaries or crime shows, I think either they’re really confused or this show has a way more violent ending than it sounds. It’s also possible they know about all those Saturdays I spent binge-watching Ninja Warrior marathons on cable.
I have a WordPress plugin that judges the “readability” of my posts. They’re rarely rated as “good” and it tells me I use the passive voice too much. Well, I live in Minnesota, we’re supposed to be passive. If you don’t like it I may have to leave a politely worded sticky note implying that you should bugger off. Please.
Facebook could be vastly improved if it gave you the following options when you choose to hide a post:
I don’t care what pages my friends like
I don’t care about people I don’t actually know
This is bullshit and I don’t want to see it
I just bought a pair of jeggings. Don’t judge me.
*If you’re from Portland, I’m sorry. I’m not saying everyone in Portland is stupid, it just seems like some sort of idiot virus broke out over there in the last week. You may want to take some precautions before you catch it too. Or before it spreads.