Updates

Tuesday night was the third of our six prenatal classes. It was the one where we watched birth videos and then heard about the different things you can do to get through labour - ie: mental calming, breathing techniques, medical interventions, etc.

For those of you who don't know, I will not be having an epidural. Go ahead and tell me that I'm crazy, and that I'll change my mind once I'm in labour, but I can guarantee you it won't be happening. Not that I think less of people that get one - not at all. But the possibility of infection and paralysis, and all those other scary things is enough for me to know that it's not worth it.

I'm not ruling out drugs completely, but I'm going to try my absolute damnedest not to take anything. But only time will tell.

The other day I sat down with Zig and we went through what I've got for holiday time and banked hours. Since I've got two weeks holiday time for this year, plus over a week of banked overtime hours, we've decided I may as well use them, so my last day at work will be April 18th. I can't even begin to explain to you how surreal that is. Sitting in his office I clapped, then got teary, then laughed, then got teary, then excitedly ran back down to my office, then got teary...you get the idea.

I recently wrote an article for a magazine I freelance for - it turned out to be one of my favourite pieces ever. I think because the subject was such a happy one, and showed that there really are some wonderful and decent people left in the world, it really struck a chord with me.
Anyhoo, I went to check my freelance email account yesterday, and there were two emails waiting for me - one from the president of the business, and one from the director of their foundation - both sent to my editor at the magazine and the owner of the magazine. They were both saying how thrilled they were with the article, and with me, and that they would recommend me to write on any topic.
It made my whole day. I guess it just shows that when your heart is in something you always do the best job you can.

Misunderstandings suck. I've been having more and more of them as of late. I know it has to do with my extremely heightened sense of reaction to anything and everything. Suddenly something someone says is the meanest thing I've ever heard - then there are tears and hurt feelings. Then someone will say something that seems so funny, it's hard for me not to pee my pants - though I haven't done that yet, fingers crossed.
I know that pregnancy has a lot to do with it, but I do hate when someone blames everything I say on being pregnant. Guess what? You really were just being a jackass. And that last joke you told? It was incredibly funny.
But sometimes people really don't mean something the way I take it, and for that I am sorry.

The husband and I are trying to get back into having more dates. It seems that now especially, with me feeling so damn tired all the time and suffering from some wicked backaches that more and more often we just end up hanging out at home. That results in watching tv, playing on the computer, and napping - so that even when we're home together, we're not really together.
Our solution? More dates. Even if we just go out for coffee together in the evening, it forces us to sit across from each other and talk, which we both love anyways.
It's something we're going to try and keep up once the Bean is born, and though I know it will be hard in the beginning to get out, we're going to try really hard to do it.
Currently plans are in the works for an Imax date...husband, aren't you proud of me? I'm the one suggesting it for once - yay wife!

My dad and one of his friends came into the city yesterday to bring in the crib (mine from when I was a babe) and to pick up the bed that was in the Bean's room, so that there is actually a spot for the crib.
As my dad is an engineer for CN Rail, he is basically on call all the time. Always. So basically he called me Tuesday night, said I'll be there tomorrow (on literally no sleep, since he was coming in off the road and jumping in his friend's truck to come here), got here while I was at work, the husband let him in our apartment, and he was on his way back to Ontario within 20 minutes.
The point of this whole little story was to say isn't it funny, that at 27 years old, and that after living on my own since I was 18, that I still panic about the state of my apartment when my dad is going to stop by for 20 minutes? The funniest thing was that as soon as I told the husband he was coming, he walked into the kitchen and started cleaning! Hmm, maybe I should tell him my parents are coming over more often...
But anyways, once he left for the night shift I stayed up for hours and cleaned like a crazy person! It was so clean that husband actually called me at work yesterday to comment on just how clean it was.
I wonder if I'll ever grow out of that?