Ooh, my aching everything

Spent Saturday in Grand Forks, North Dakota picking up some of our missing baby gear. When we were pulling into the Columbia Mall parking lot, two 17 year olds in black trench coats were standing outside a door smoking. One of them looked at our license plate and screamed "Get out of my country!"
I was scared to leave the car. Not because I thought either one of them would have touched me, but because they looked like the kind of delinquents that would key our car. After driving and parking at a different door we went into the mall. First store we go in? There are the two dipshits, trying to look all tough and goth. They're babbling away to the people working in the store - the one is telling a story about his dad getting mad at the family cat and pushing him off the dinner table.
Ooh, real dark story trench coat. You are obviously a very tough individual. Tell Mittens to be more careful next time.
Those are the idiots that make me not want to go to the states.

Anyways, spent Sunday dragging the husband from store to store in Winnipeg, eventually making it home at around 2pm. From then on we plasticed up the bed in the spare room, took apart the bed frame, took down the old bamboo blinds and put up new curtains to match all the baby stuff, patched up any holes in the wall, moved all the baby furniture that has been culminating in our living room to the bean's room, washed and put away half of the baby clothes, threw out about 4 garbage bags worth of crap, stated making an impressive "to sell" pile for a summer yard sale, re-arranged our closet, did 4 other loads of laundry, started cleaning up the hell hole that is our bedroom, had a shower and went to bed, where the husband massaged both my belly and back before we were both sleeping at 10:30.

And now here I sit...at 1:53 a.m. with heartburn, and an aching back. And aching legs, arms, head, ass, you get the idea. When will I learn that pregnancy is not the best time for marathon cleaning and moving events?
Oh right, this is me - so probably never.

Conversation Between Myself and a Parking Ticket Man

Wednesday I was having a particularly crappy day. Basically I wanted to kill nearly everyone at work, I was seriously considering ending a friendship over some recent goings on - and without going into any more detail, I had reached my breaking point at 9:14 a.m.
That's when I ran downstairs to where my car was parked to plug my meter. Nine a.m. is when meters start charging, and I knew I was late but was trying to wrap up an "urgent" work matter before I dashed downstairs.
Oh, and as a side note, the ticket dudes very rarely even patrol the little avenue my work is on because it's so tiny, we're the only building on it. Anyways, without further ado...

(me running out the door to my meter which is 20 feet away, I see one of the parking patrol guys with his ticket book out)
Me: Noooooooooo! I'm coming, hang on, I'm sorry!
(he looks up with a total asshole gaze)
Me: Wait! I'm sorry I'm late, I was just trying to finish something...
Him: Sorry (in full asshole mode now as he rips a ticket off his pad)
Me: Aagh!
Him: Well? These meters start charging at 9 you know (said with such attitude I wanted to punch him in his moustachey, wind-burned face)
Me: Yeah, I know (feeling defeated and getting a little attitude myself) I was just trying to get something done that I had a deadline for, and I forgot
Him: Well? They start at 9 (holds out his chubby hand smuggly)
Me: Yeah...I know (snatching ticket out of his hand and turning on my heel to march back into the building angrily)
Him: Hey! Aren't you going to plug your meter now?
Me: (wheeling back around) Well why the f*ck would I plug my meter now? You just gave me a f*cking ticket!
Him: (mouth dropping open) Well, uh...I...
Me: (turning back around and stomping away angrily) Exactly...

See, once they write you a ticket they can't write you another one the same day, so really, why would I plug my meter? And I know that guy was just doing his job - the husband used to be one of those guys, and he would tell me all the horror stories about cranky people - but I wasn't that late, and 3 of the 6 meters on our little avenue had no cars parked at them! It's not like I was holding up millions of other people from getting to park there!
Plus, I was genuinely sorry, and I wasn't that late, and I know that he could have given me a warning. The husband used to let people off if they were nice and explained their situation to him, so I know it can be done.
Anyways, when he picked me up for my doctor's appointment yesterday and we were leaving downtown, I saw the same guy writing someone else a ticket a few streets over. The husband remembered him immediately as one of the guys that made it his mission to write as many tickets he possibly could in a day, with no exceptions.
He's the kind of guy that makes everyone hate the parking patrol.

Life as of Late

Since I took my camera home for the Easter weekend you would naturally assume I would have a bunch of pictures to show you. While I do have a few - they don't have anything to do with Easter...apparently just because one remembers to bring her camera somewhere specifically for the purpose of picture taking does not actually mean she will remember to take said pictures. Ahem.

These are two of my nieces. Not my blood relative nieces, but nieces just the same. I went to school with their mom, Rachel, and we've remained close enough that all 4 of her kids call me Auntie Ali. When I went to visit this past weekend only these two of the girls were home - Alia, 5.5 months, and Taylor, 9 years.
The coolest thing about this? Alia was named partially for me, so that they could call her Ali. She is quite possibly the best baby I have ever met in my entire life. And definitely not because she was named for me - but as an example, she sat on my knee on Saturday for 5 hours, smiling and banging her hands on the table, completely content.
Now, her 3 year old sister Taryn on the other hand is a holy terror, who both of her parents refer to as "my child from another mother." She is wild and crazy and full of attitude, and I love her. But I love the other 3 just as much.

Last week, the husband's best friend Mike came into the city for a quick overnight to take care of some personal stuff. While he was here the two of them went out to "rent a movie" and came back with Rockband (Mike's purchase) - the new game for most of the systems where you can play guitar, drums, or sing like you're in a real band.
The husband was giddy with excitement as he's been talking about this game for months. I do get why he wants it as it's a pretty cool idea, but those huge instruments in an apartment with a baby? Possibly not the best combination.

And finally, it seems I've turned into the chubby kid. That's not to say that I was particularly willowy before I got pregnant, but now it's official. I've gained 17 pounds so far, which at just over 33 weeks is not too bad, but every bit of it has settled directly at the bump.

A few weekends ago while the husband and I were doing stuff around the house I was wearing one of his t-shirts. Most people would think that was a good idea - you know, it would be all loose and comfy. Ha! Not on me! If I pulled it right down it barely covered my belly, and in truth it just sat part way down, with about 4 inches of skin sticking out of the bottom. The husband was teasing me because I kept saying I felt like the fat kid at camp.

In truth though, I've been wearing both maternity and regular clothes, which seem to be fitting me as well, they're just a little more snug.

But the other day I pulled on one of my favourite button-up shirts. It's cute and plaid and has sort of a modern day cowgirl feel...and...well, um...just look...
Needless to say, this shirt has been retired until the Bean makes an appearance.

Dear Operators of Motor Vehicles,

As someone who travels on city roads daily, I have noticed several bad habits that many of my fellow drivers are adopting. That's not to say I don't have a couple bad habits of my own - I'm no angel - but some of you really need to be put back into drivers education for a refresher course.

One of my major pet peeves is when someone lets you into a line of cars with no acknowledgement. Sometimes it really is accidental that you're in the wrong lane - your kid was yelling in the back seat, you didn't see the one measly orange cone that was marking a lane closure, etc, and you simply didn't get over in time.

But there are also the rest of you who know damn well they've been doing road repairs for a week up ahead, or that you actually need to be 4 lanes over in order to make your turn in 3 blocks, but still you go careening up the bus lane at full tilt, only to pull in front of someone who has to slam on their brakes to avoid killing you. Or, some poor shmuck that doesn't know any better lets you in out of the goodness of their heart, only to have you pull in front of them and cut across the next 3 lanes as well, causing a string of brake lights and white knuckles.

I realize that while you are talking on your cell phone, scrolling through your list of ipod tunes, lighting a cigarette, putting on mascara, and trying to find change to buy a coffee it may be a bit of an inconvenience to raise your hand in a quick wave of appreciation, but please try. Even the bus drivers flash their lights as a thank you!

As someone who routinely lets people into lanes, I don't think it's too much to ask for a simple two second wave of thanks. Even if you just hold up your hand briefly - I still know that you're acknowledging me being nice, leaving a happy feeling in my mind, and a good attitude about letting the next person in.

But when you're a jackass, and don't so much as glance in your rear-view mirror to look back, you're ruining it for everyone else that needs to be let in. Immediately after not getting any recognition for being nice to you I become jaded and sullen, and unwilling to let anyone else in for that drive.

Keep it up and one day when you really are in a hurry and need to get somewhere quickly you'll be S.O.L. - because it won't just be me that's unwilling to let you nose your mom's 1989 Buick LeSabre ahead of me, oh no, soon even the little blue-haired ladies will be saluting you with their crooked middle fingers.

Sincerely, Nice for Now Ali

Oh, the Joys of Catholicism and Easter

This weekend we're heading home to Ontario for Easter. I am very much looking forward to it. I've seen my little brother for a grand total of about 1.5 hours over the past 2 months or so, and I miss him. Plus, it seems that he has a new girlfriend so I'll need to get all the juicy details on that.

I'm not sure what it means for other religions on Easter weekend, but for Catholics it means church, church and more church. I don't really mind going to church when I'm home, and certainly not on Easter, but Catholics are pretty hard core about this weekend. Besides regular masses there are about four others to go to. The one that gets me every time is doing the stations of the cross - yi. It takes forever - last year even my cute little 80 year old grandma was muttering under her breath for the priest to speed it up.

Then there's the whole reading of The Passion, where at the end you have to go up to the front of the church and kiss the feet of Jesus on this big cross. Between each person the altar servers give it a little swipe to "clean it" before the next person deposits their germs on it. Respectful or not, it's an outdated and unsanitary tradition. Jesus knows I'm thankful for his sacrifice for me, and I seriously doubt that me slobbering on his porcelain feet will do much to solidify that.

So - now that I've just guaranteed my passage into hell...

Hope you guys all have a wonderful Easter - filled with chocolate, and family, and relaxation, and love - and I'll catch you on the flip side...or, you know...Monday.

Run!!!

Yesterday the husband and I had a fight of epic proportions.

The only problem was that I don't think he saw the fight coming. Quite understandably mind you, because I didn't really see it coming myself, though I was the one that brought most of it on.

I did what many other people do when they're upset about something...I took a smaller, less significant problem (which was still a problem, don't get me wrong) and developed it into a huge, catastrophic event. All to bring the entire thing around to what was really bothering me, which realistically had nothing to do with the original fight.

It all culminated last night at about 8:30, when after crying for approximately 3 hours (and I don't mean a tear here and there, I mean a heaving, body-wracking sob fest that could have broken records) it finally tumbled out of my mouth, while my husband sat beside me with a bewildered look on his face. Definitely not what he expected from the original fight over him buying some shoes that I told him to wait for his birthday to buy.

We seem to have one of these fights on cue, about every 6 months. And it's always the same situation - me flying off the handle about something stupid, to come full circle (after hours and hours of bullshit) to discuss what's really bothering me. And oddly enough, it usually seems to be something that's been bothering the husband too, he's just a lot less dramatic in expressing it.

Despite my very puffy eyes (man I love getting older and seeing my eyes puffier each time I shed a tear), and a headache that no amount of Tylenol will rid, I'm feeling much better. Seems my bi-annual meltdown has had a positive effect on my marriage, and I'm feeling much less chip-on-my-shoulder-ish.

Besides, the husband knew my flair for the dramatics when he married me...and he also knows that the way I show my emotions sometimes is just because of how strongly I feel about something. And my marriage is definitely one of those things that deserves the dramatics.

Note: I'm worried now that I gave the impression that our marriage is in trouble, which it definitely is NOT.

Undecided

My plan was to work till the last day in April. I figured that would give me nearly two weeks before my due date to catch a breather and nap till I got bed sores before the bean makes their appearance. I doubt there's much chance I'll go into labour early - I'm pretty sure this baby will be a procrastinator like me.

Anyways, in the wake of the last several months, with being sick more times than I care to recall, trips to the ER, just generally not feeling well, and a doctor or ultrasound appointment at least once a week - I've come to the realization that I just might not be able to handle sticking around till the end of April. It almost makes me cry to type it.

I love my job (though sometimes I wonder why) but it seems that as of late I just can't get ahead. Every time I make some progress I have to go to an appointment, or work from home and I just don't feel like I'm pulling my weight at work. In fact, I know I'm not. I'm drowning in a sea of deadlines and un-proofed ads and it's really taking a toll.

Last week in the midst of a breakdown I called Zig into my office and told him that I couldn't do it. That the sooner he could get me out and my replacement in, the better. I usually thrive on stress and deadlines, but lately I'm cracking under the pressure. And in truth, I'm burnt out.

So, this week they're starting interviews to replace me. And it's come as quite a shock that I really don't want to deal with it. I want to be out, away from the turmoil, but the idea of someone else stepping in to fill my shoes is almost more than I can bear.

I just think of all the work I've done to build a rapport with all my contacts, and how much I've put into that place, and even how I finally got my own office and have it exactly the way I want it - and now there will be someone else there...at my desk, on my phone, laughing with my clients. The designers will be going to someone else now when they have questions - someone who I worry will be better than me, and that will not just replace me, but show me up.

I'm even realizing that I'll miss when one of the boys huffs and then yells in an irritated tone "Ali...can you come in here please?" like I'm being called to the principals office. Or when Krista will stroll into my office much more calmly to say "Uh, have you called Sue yet?" and I'll let off a string of expletives and she'll know that I totally forgot.

Is it normal to be so undecided on how I feel about this?

Obviously being home with the baby for a year wins - there's no dispute there. But...I love my job...sigh...

Butterbean in 3 and 4D

Last night the husband and I went back to the private clinic where we originally had ultrasound pictures of Butterbean done in December.

We had decided to splurge on getting another dvd and loads more pictures, only this time in 3 and 4D. Since this might be our only baby, and we worked so hard to get them, why not? Butterbean is worth it.

So off we went last night, where the sex of the baby was confirmed without a doubt, but where the bean decided that beyond that, they weren't willing to be so cooperative. First the cord was around the face, then once we were poking at them to try and nudge them out of their little hiding spot, they put their hands up and that was it. No matter that I stood up and walked around, twisted, bent over, poked, begged, and prodded, that baby decided that they had had enough, and to hell with us.

The woman there is such a doll though, that she's letting us go back for another 1/2 hour session on Tuesday, just to try to get some better pictures. Free of course.

So here our a few pictures of our beloved miracle baby - who of course we think is the cutest thing since...well, ever.

The husband was very excited to see that the baby has my lips, and I was equally excited to see that they have his nose, instead of my little turned up one.


I'll leave you with those, have a warm and wonderful weekend!

Bliss is...

Admitting out loud to your husband at 8:30 that you are so exhausted you just want to go "lie down and rest" for a little while.

Having your husband come to lie with you, then laugh when you're struggling to keep your eyes open when he talks.

Actually contemplating it when he tells you that 9 o'clock is not too early for you to go to bed.

Letting him convince you that you will not miss anything by going to bed this early, because nothing exciting ever happens anyways.

Having him tuck you in between two full length body pillows, pull up all 4 of your blankets, tell you you're cute in your little "cocoon", kiss you goodnight, and then bend down to kiss your belly too.

Having him tell you that he's sleeping in the spare bedroom tonight so that you can try to get some uninterrupted sleep.

Him laughing at you when you begin to pout because he won't be in bed with you, but then reassuring you that if you need him just to knock on the wall and he'll come.

Him not getting angry when you actually do knock on the wall 20 seconds after he closes the door, just to see if he can really hear you.

Falling asleep 60 seconds later, and having 9 amazing hours of uninterrupted sleep, so deep that you don't actually move from your original position.

What A Day...

Today started off looking like a great day. It was warm, I managed to sleep a little last night, and was generally just feeling good - I love when that happens.

I got to work and began on my never-ending to do list - a hundred emails and phone calls under my belt by the time 9:30 rolled around.

That's when I realized that I was having trouble seeing out of my left eye...no wait, I could barely see anything out of my left eye, and it was actually creeping into my right! I walked down the hall to Krista's office and asked her to look at them, wondering if there was actually something in them that I couldn't see.

Once I told her what was going on, and told her I was dizzy as well she got the "Hmmm" look and told me that she thought I should call the husband - who is a nurse for anyone that doesn't know. I made my way back to my office, sat down and dialed, suddenly realizing that my heart was beating very fast - and by the time the husband got to the phone he says I was slurring my speech and immediately instructed me to go to the nearest hospital.

I hung up with him, called Zig's office, said "Can you take me to the hospital?" and 10 seconds later he was standing in front of me saying "Let's go!"

We made our way to the hospital where I filled out all my paperwork, and Zig stayed with me until the husband drove over from his hospital and they traded off.
*Thanks Zig for being so great about taking me.*

I hate, hate, hate making the husband worry. Seems like I've done it more to him in the past few years than ever before, and I feel so guilty about it.
*Sorry husband.*

Anyways, after some assessments the doctor comes in and tells me that they were alarmed at my blood pressure and the other signs I was presenting with (which apparently were classic signs of a stroke), and that when someone is pregnant they have to rule out some stuff right away.

So - shortly after that I had a gallon of blood taken, peed into another itty bitty cup, my blood pressure taken a few dozen more times, and then I went in for a CT scan to eliminate bleeding in my brain. Huh, fun. Their main worry after ruling out a stroke was pre-eclampsia, which is a pregnancy condition.

After a very, very long day in emergency, then in the obstetrics triage, all of my tests came back okay, and they were alright with sending me home, especially since I already have an ultrasound scheduled for Thursday, and my regular appointment on Friday.

Still, it was scary. My mom is not impressed with the fact that they couldn't give me any real idea of what was up with everything, especially losing my vision - and made me promise that if anything else weird happens that I would go to the ER immediately.

Sheesh! Talk about your crappy day! But really, if it gives me a reason to listen to Butterbean's heartbeat galloping along, and prove that they're okay, then I guess that's fine with me.

Peachy Keen, Jellybean

My apartment is a complete disaster area. I know, I know - it's always a disaster area. But this time? It's downright embarrassing.

In my nesting phase I have taken on a lot of re-organizing projects in order to get rid of junk we no longer need, more effectively use our space, and just generally "clean house". However...as any good organizer knows...you have to make it worse before it gets better. As in, usually you have to create a man-made disaster, in order to properly go through everything and make headway.
Here's my problem - in the midst of all the re-organizing I have been hit with the third trimester sleepies. I come home every day with all these plans of what I'm going to get done that evening, and before I know it I'm waking up to the phone ringing in the bedroom, having made it out of my work clothes, but never making it into other clothes, or out of the bedroom.
I keep telling the husband that I go in the bedroom to change but that I repeatedly "fall" into our bed, like it's an accident I'm unable to avoid. He of course keeps telling me it's fine, that obviously my body needs the rest, so not to worry about it. But sheesh!

Work is busy - too much to do, no time to do it. Story of my life.

But otherwise I have been in a great mood the last week or so. I think it might have something to do with the fact that though it's disgustingly cold outside, the sun has finally begun to show it's beautiful face, making it far less depressing around here. Plus (and this is a big plus) thanks to longer daylight hours I am no longer going to work and driving home in the dark! Yes!

Life has been pretty peachy lately. Butterbean is kicking up a storm and growing right on schedule, husband is being his usual awesome self - he's tired after work too, but still willing to help me with whatever I need. I've visited a few friends this week that I've been missing for awhile, and I plan on visiting more nearly forgotten friends next week - really there is just tons of stuff that makes me happy. I'm a lucky girl, in every way.

I Just Don't Know

Have you ever known one of those people, that for the life of you, you cannot read?

Like just when you think you might have made a little bit of headway into what they're all about, suddenly they do something that totally throws you, and you're back at square one?

I have one of those people.

I've known them for several years, but am still figuratively scratching my head after every time we get together. To this day I have no idea if they like me, loathe me, despise me, love me or really don't know themselves.

I've made every effort to go out of my way to be nice to this person - include them in conversation, tell them jokes, express interest in everything they've talked about - and yet still it is so awkward.

More often than not it's almost as though they're ignoring me completely - though they seem to enjoy the husband's company very much. However, occasionally they will be delightful, asking me what's new, seeming to be genuinely interested in what I have to say, laughing at ridiculous stories I tell...so then the next time we get together I'll be thinking okay - this should go well, no awkwardness. But then I walk into the room and they give me a tight lipped smile and a two second glance and I know that nothing has changed.

I'm kind of at my wits end.

And I know, most of you are thinking "Well why do you continue torturing yourself with hanging around this person then?"

The reason for all the torture is that both the husband and I get along fabulously with their significant other. So much so that we would hate to end the relationship because of the cold shoulder from their spouse. But yes, even my husband notices how odd this person is with me.

Sometimes I have half a mind to just flat out ask them if I've done something to offend them - but then reality kicks in, and I know that to say that would put a glitch into the relationship with their spouse.

Maybe with Butterbean soon to make their appearance, it will provide us with some time to step away (though we'll miss at least one of them!) as they don't yet have children and they don't both seem to be into the idea of having anything to do with ours.

Well, one of them does...

Yeah, I'm Feeling a Little Lazy...

Currently there are 23 posts that I have written and not published yet. I still haven't taken any photos. In saying that, I will leave you with this meme that I blatantly stole from Terri's blog:

1. What is your occupation? Editor at a publishing company.
   
2. What color are your socks right now? None - my feet are naaaaaaked - whoooo!
   
3. What are you listening to right now? Off the Record on Sports Center - it's not my choice.
4. What was the last thing that you ate? A glass of coke, a vanilla pudding and a cheese stick - all of which the husband brought me for a snack.
   
5. Can you drive a stick shift? Can I? Yes. Well? No.
   
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Ocean Blue.
   
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? The president of one of the associations who's magazine I'm an editor for.
   
8. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Well I actually stole it from Terri, without asking - but of course I like her!
   
9. Favorite drink? Non-alcoholic: Currently it's Grape Crush. Alcoholic: Malibu Rum mixed with 5-Alive.
   
10. What is your favorite sport to watch? Football.
11. Have you ever dyed your hair? Yes - I'm a hair dying whore.
12. Pets? Nope.
13. Favorite food? Greek.
14. Last movie you watched? The Holiday.
    
15. Favorite day of the year? My birthday? I don't really know.
    
16. What do you do to vent anger? Yell, swear, and eventually pout.
    
17. What was your favorite toy as a child? I have no idea - I was outside all the time.
18. What is your favorite? Fall or spring? Fall - everything is beautiful, and you get to dress cozy.
19. Hugs or kisses? Kisses!
20. What kind of pie? Pumpkin.
21. Living arrangements? Live in a townhouse/apartment with the husband, and my ever growing pregnant belly.
    
22. When was the last time you cried? Sunday. I had a meltdown watching Law & Order.
    
23. What is on the floor of your closet? Let's just say I'm not even sure there IS a floor to my closet.
24. Favorite smell? I have lots - freshly cut grass, someone smoking a pipe, freshly bathed babies, freshly bathed men, tea...
    
25. What inspires you? My brother thinking anything I have done is cool - it inspires me to try and be a good role model for him.
    
26. What are you afraid of? Spiders, being un-loved, losing anyone in my life, the dark.
    
27. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? Plain cheeseburger with bacon and pickles.
28. Favorite car? Dodge Viper.
    
29. Favorite cat breed? None. I despise cats.
    
30. Number of keys on your key ring? 8 - my work, the actual office at my work, our apartment, my parents house, the car, the club for the car, one that I can't remember what it's for, and a little one for something private ;)
    
31. How many years at your current job? Almost two.
    
32. Favorite day of the week? Saturday.
33. How many provinces have you lived in? Three - Ontario, Alberta, and Manitoba.
    
34. How many countries have you been to? Five - Canada, the US, Mexico, Dominican Republic, and Cuba.