I'm sitting here tonight unwinding from another riveting day of work. As I skipped through my daily reads and I got over to Mary's site and sadly thought how that was the second site today where someone had gotten "tagged". If you will recall, I love when people send me those emails where you read about them and then fill in things about yourself. I love them so much that I sat in envy today and even thought that I would just copy theirs and pretend like it had been sent to me. Yes, pathetic, but did you all read my top 100 list? This type of thing actually made my list, so you know it must be important. While I'm reading the list on Mary's site, I like them because I can learn something interesting about the people whose sites I read, I get to the bottom of the list where she has to tag others. And there, behold I saw my name. But then I asked myself if maybe she meant another person by that name. I mean, I never was Ms. Popular you know. Rather than ask, just in case the answer was no, I am going to take bird in hand and make a list. I LOVE LIST PEOPLE!
7 things I plan to do before I die 1. Take a cruise to somewhere tropical 2. Earn my Masters (then...) 3. Earn my PhD 4. Be extremely wealthy 5. Open and run a Women's Center 6. Speak French well enough that I can go to Paris and fit it 7. Write a book
7 things I can do 1. Clean house like it's going out of style 2. Travel and navigate my way through a new place 3. Make a very tasty Chocolate Martini 4. Cook fancy meals 5. Admit when I'm wrong and say sorry 6. Spend under $30 for a complete outfit...call me the eBay champ 7. Make and keep friends
7 things I cannot do 1. Eat with chopsticks 2. Buy clothes from Wal-Mart 3. Wear any other makeup than Clinique (not by choice, by genetics) 4. Drive slow 5. Go to sleep without the noise from a fan 6. Sleep in a bed smaller than a King with D (um, hello, he's 6'2") 7. Be around fake people (Jenn knows what I'm talking about!)
7 things that attract me to my husband (I changed that statement slightly from opposite sex, because you know, I'm married and all) 1. His Intellect 2. His calm nature 3. The sound of his laugh 4. The sound of his voice 5. His incredible sense of humor 6. His ability to appreciate my family and all of it's dynamics 7. His ability to love me despite my stubbornness
7 things that I say most often 1. "Precious" 2. "Duh!" 3. "Whatever" 4. "It's not rocket science people" 5. "Derek" (in a VERY whinny voice when I want something) 6. "Darnit to heck" (that's my swearing w/o swearing) 7. "______ is so obnoxious"
7 celebrity crushes 1. Chris Noth's character Mr. Big in Sex and the City
Yeah, just one celebrity crush, you read that right! Celebrities get on my nerves, way to over rated for me!
7 people I want to do this 1. Steph
Remember the not Ms. Popular thing? I really wasn't lying!
There has been a lot of re-balancing here in the Princess household. Yes, we got a kitty. And yes the security deposit for said kitty goes against every grain of this penny pinchers body. But, there comes a time when I have to not be so frugal. Last week my kitty of 15 years died. I realize that is an old age for a kitty, and I thought because of that I wouldn't be so heart broken. I was obviously wrong. The poor guy got sick 2 weekends ago but it seemed as if he was going to pull through. He lived in D.C. with my mom because, well as stated above, it was to pricey to bring him here and he was an outdoor cat living in a big Colonial. I felt it was inhumane to put him into a 1 bedroom apartment at the time. Anyway, D and I were pretty excited because since my Mom was going out of town, she was going to bring the kitty to my sister's where I was to pick him and bring him up here. When I found out he died, I was sad, shocked and a little shaken up, which is to be expected. But what surprised me even more was that the next morning I actually woke up crying. And that evening while laying on the couch relaxing, I caught myself crying again....over a furry little animal. I guess it turns out that I do have a heart. So to ease the pain just a little, we went out got Penny. Who I must admit I didn't even like that much for the first couple days. Strangely enough it made me miss my old kitty even more. But no worries, kitty and I have bonded now. See what happens when you pregnant people? You get all sappy and emotional. Craziness I tell you.
During all this chaos: the kitty dying, the new kitty adjusting, Jenn moving closer...my stomach has taken on a more beach ball shape.
I went from having a nice slope to my stomach to my newly formed shelf which is very convenient while sitting on the couch with my bottle of water. I am able to eBay, control the remote for the T.V. and play with he kitty all at the same time thanks to the shelf that now holds my water bottle. One of the many "perks" of pregnancy I guess. And, Camille has learned to do flips. She loves flipping. I'm not the biggest fan of it personally. When she goes into flip mode, it's obvious that she thumps the bladder via the flip which was not very convenient when driving home from my sister's this weekend. I don't like stopping on trips like that, I prefer to just drive on through. Which I did despite my screaming bladder. I just pulled the seat belt a little tighter. I don't know, somehow it helped. Our other new exciting pregnancy symptom: Indigestion. Now, I'm not talking a wimpy little bout of indigestion that 3 Tums will take away. I'm talking, sound to sleep, wake up choking from large amounts of gurgling liquids indigestion....see, and you all thought pregnancy was sooo lady like. The exciting part of that is when I wake up chocking I cough so hard that...well, use your imagination. Again, sooo lady like. Pregnancy as a whole I've learned can be the most disgusting thing a woman will ever experience. I've gotten to a point that now, I don't even move to the couch to prop myself up in attempts to direct the indigestion back down. I just grab my pillows, and just force myself to sleep through it...choking and all.
Now, while I've been busy with all of the activities above, I have not busy with the important things, like this. I have 17 weeks to get all of this stuff together. I do have the crib though, but without the poles to hold up the cage part. So, that can't even be put together right now. It'll have to wait until next week when my sister comes to visit. Which also means that that big pile of junk you see in the picture above will be needing a new home unless my nephew and nieces don't mind sleeping on top of boxes. But the one thing I have had a chance to do is shop for Camille. That's easy. I can do that while at work! She might not have a pristine room or a crib that's completely assembled, but she will have a nice wardrobe. In my defense, all the clothes you do see in the picture? I didn't buy all of that. Thanks to biology, I have 2 nieces and a sister who saved all of the girls clothes for me (well, technically I have 4 nieces and 2 sisters but the other sister didn't save anything for me, another post for another time). We went through all her stuff this weekend, that's is only 2 of the 4 boxes in 3/6 and 6/9 months. But will that stop me from shopping for my first born? Of course not, if we're going live here in Antarctica I can't let her turn into a Woodchuck, now can I?
***by saying I don't want her to turn into a Woodchuck I am not implying that everyone here is a Woodchuck. My dear close friends I don't consider Woodchucks, I promise, because if I did I would tell you, really. I do however call everyone else, except the certain people who live here and have been given access to this site, a Woodchuck. Disclaimer over and out!
On my commute to work this morning (yes, for those of you who know me in real life and know how long my drive is using the word "commute" is a disjustice) I had Alanis playing in the background. I picked up on a couple lines of lyrics that, not like I haven't heard them over and over again as Alanis is one of my favorite artists, caught my ear. To me they were very empowering lyrics, especially for those who might have just ended a relationship. Obviously I am a happily married woman but before I was happily married I was frustratingly single with even some very badly ended "relationships". Now, I use that term loosely as my past "relationships", especially during college, might not fulfill your expectation of how you would define one. But, nonetheless, no one has come up with a better term, so I shall use that. There was this one "relationship" in college I was in, the one that was so horrible that it makes you stand in awe of your husband even on his worst days. This one was bad. It was unhealthy and I left it feeling quite spent. It was that bad one that made me swear off men in general. I left it so torn apart and doubting who I was. It was one of those.
Recently, maybe a year or two ago I got the opportunity to talk with this individual. We hadn't spoken since months before my college graduation. I left P.A. leaving my past and all it's ugly secrets behind hoping that they wouldn't be able to find me. I did very well with this plan. I put myself in the Protective Services Program of past relationships changing everything about me, moved to NY hoping that I would never be found out. Unfortunately your past will always find you. No matter where you live, how happily married you are and what name you are being called by now, unless you have squashed it's ugly head, it will be there. After devoting a month of therapy to this subject, circumstances allowed me a conversation with this person. After 4 1/2 years, we spoke again. D knew of this pending conversation and was okay with it because he knew I needed to be okay again. He knew this and supported me. So, we spoke. And during that conversation somehow when it ended I was the one who looked like the bad guy. I was the one who made him fall. If I had been strong, he said, he would have followed. He said he lost respect for me because I reminded him of himself. This concept was so far fetched that I felt winded afterwards. I couldn't be to angry at him because I asked him to be honest with me. I should be careful for what I asked for. This was his own reality though and although I couldn't change that but I didn't have to agree with it. The conversation did help, I got the opportunity to say those ugly things I held inside for so long and in his defense he heard it. But those statement he made, to say that I was the reason for the demise stuck in my head for awhile. I knew I wasn't the main reason. He was unhealthy before me. His actions had nothing to do with me, that I knew. The fault that I would have to claim was allowing this relationship knowing the unhealthiness of it.
Supposedly, he had now found Jesus. He was in some high powered government job and working on his PhD. That was great for him. And yes, for a moment I did believe that maybe there was some truth in his belief of the demise. I believed the absurd concept up until recently when I heard news that confirmed my view, that, no, it wasn't all me, it might have been you. As if it was a flashback to our college years, he had gotten some woman pregnant. Someone he barely knew, but like in college, he found himself drinking too much again and found someone who fulfilled that physical need. Now here "Mr. I found Jesus and you made me fall", fell. Obviously he found more than Jesus, he found his past. I don't know why, but somehow this has compensated my feelings of powerlessness.
So, when I hear these lyrics by Alanis, this one part of the song, I feel empowered because I am not sad anymore nor do I miss him. I'm in the healthiest relationship, my dream relationship and couldn't ask for anyone better. D is everything I ever wanted in a spouse. Although I did carry these chains from these bad relationships, they have only made me appreciate more of what I have and every time I think about my past, I don't cringe, I just cling stronger to my stability.
I'm not saddened and I don't miss you Cause I have moved on too I'm not concerned about your new lover Cause I have a new lover too
I am assuming that they made it although she hasn't called. I didn't receive a message from any hospital or police department so I am think they are in Pennsylvania now. The road that took them there has just been long and winding and full of pot holes, but by faith they went. She didn't leave easily. There were a lot of tears and heartache associated with packing up 8 years of memory's and 3 kids and taking them to a place where even his family was standing strong against it. I am the selfish one though. I know she was hurting but I needed her to be okay because I needed her closer to me. As she shed tears last night during that, what I am sure was a long, 6 hour drive, I counted down the hours that they would be only 3 1/2 hours from me. I even prayed that God would sell their home so that she could be closer, even though I knew it would hurt her to leave. Yes, I am selfish. But as much as this move was a faith walk for her, it was just as much for me.
I wanted to move also. I wanted to be closer to my mom. When the prospects of finding D a new job came up I was filled with so much anticipation. I was even willing to join them in PA, a state I ran away from after college. But I'd compromise all to be closer to family. Living here isn't horrible, but it does get a little lonely and depressing when I get home sick. I dreamt of being able to finally afford a house as the cost of living here just makes that impossible. I would miss my new found friendships, each and every one of them means a lot to me. I recognized that it would be a large price to pay to be closer. One could say I was willing to choose the lesser of two evils. The choice though became unnecessary as D was offered a job he couldn't say no too. Although my day dreams had just been shattered and my escape had now been denied, I was able to digest it because I knew she would be closer making my mom closer too. That is how I was going to make it through a longer sentence here in Antartica. I was able to stomach it. But then it happened. The phone call, the warning that she might not be moving. That, my safety net, was just torn apart and now I had to make the decision to stay not based on her. Now, that the decision was my own faith walk. Do I deny my husband a job he wanted because I needed to be closer? Or, do I trust God that whether or not they would move, this is the path He has chosen and He would bless me for that. Now, strangely enough, both of us where on the similar faith walks based on her life outcome. But I knew that answer, I knew that we were to stay as I reluctantly told D to accept the position. It's a great position working with a great employer, one who values family and hard work. It would allow me the luxury of not working if that is what I chose. Everything we were looking for in a new job was dangling in front of us. Except, it was here and not there and they might not be moving. I broke the news to mom, she was just as disappointed as I was. I couldn't say to her anymore that soon we'd only be 3 1/2 hours away. She wanted badly to have a daughter closer as much as I wanted someone closer.
And during the whole mix of it, her husbands family was bitter that they were moving back to his hometown. What selfishness! As they were strongly pushing them away, not wanting them living within 45 minutes of their homes, I was just begging for 3 1/2 hours. They don't deserve to have them so close by. They don't deserve to see them on a daily basis. But, that wasn't my battle to fight as his family isn't mine. So I stayed silent with my anger and frustration.
But now, after all the drama and choices, the house got sold and they were able to move making me feel more at ease. Little does she know, that in the end they suffered for my peace of mind. Maybe not directly, but I did lift many selfish prayers up to heaven to move them for me.
I just wrote this whole boring post about this sitethat I found. And really, it was so wordy and boring that I deleted it. It was one of those rabbit trails that would just make you way to dizzy by the end. There are times that I am telling D a story and if it's he gets confused, he'll tell me to give him the guy version. Which basically means, give me the meat of the story, forget the side dishes. Basically I found this site somehow today and thought it was interesting. And in the spirit of giving, I thought I'd share it with my favorite viewing audience. Now, some of the post cards might come across as offensive to you, so, you've been warned...no mean comments. I found a majority of them to quiet intriguing, some of them were a little strange, and some of them just required a lot of therapy. But all in all, I think this project is amazingly brilliant!
I want to be a good mother. I want to be the kind of mother that does everything educationally correct for her child. Everyone says that this is the time that you're supposed to be singing and talking to your child and playing music. These things I want to do. I am already talking to Camille and calling her by name, especially when she kicks me and I know she is awake. And if she is not kicking me for a period of time, my anxiety sets in and I end up waking her up until she does kick. D thinks this is very cruel of me. He says she needs her sleep. But Momma needs her reassurance and just a little kick. When I get that little kick I'm better and I call her by name and then she can go back to sleep.
I do try to sing her too, but I only really know one lullaby and from what everyone tells me you're supposed to sing kid friendly music to your little cherub so that when they come into this world all upset you just play that kid friendly tape and they'll recognize it and miraculously calm down (at least that's my bizarre interpretation). Well, here's the thing: Although I do have kid friendly tapes, thanks to Jenn (the friend), I don't have any kid friendly cd's. I do have a little tape player at home home (a.k.a. D.C. home) but only a portable cd player here and it's hard to play tapes in a cd player.
Now, I really really try to go with the norm of society. I don't always succeed and that is quite apparent to many. But what is wrong with playing her a little Simon and Garfunkel instead? I want Camille to be well rounded like D and I. I want her to, at least musically, have an appreciation for all types of music. I don't want to just have her "into" kid friendly music but want her to like various genre's. Growing up, do you want to know what my most favorite song was? The song that till this day I know every single word to and I don't know words to any song, just sit with me in the car...I do a lot of blah blah blah's to songs when I sing along because I don't know the words. Cecilia by Simon and Garfunkel, that's was and I think I could honestly say still is a most favorite song of mine. Have you ever read the lyrics to that song? I knew every word to it but didn't even understand the implication and really didn't bother to think about it at the age of 8. I just loved the music. I want Camille to have that. I want for her to enjoy the Annie Lennox Medusa album as much as I do. I also want for her to have an appreciation of Classical Music unlike her Momma. That is one thing I regret about my musical self. I just don't enjoy listening to classical but would hope a little Tchaikovsky would teach Camille to appreciate it like her Pop-pop.
So once again I am stuck in the position of being different. But my parents raised me to be different, to be a free thinker and I could only hope that Camille goes against the flow rather than to morf into everyone else. I want for her to dance barefoot on the hardwood floors to Fleetwood Mac's Vain just her like Momma did. That was pure childhood bliss.
I made a cruel cruel discovering today while taking a quick break from cleaning. While laid back on the sofa watching my stomach twitch from my daughter doing somersaults inside me, I noticed how I've never seen the inside of my belly button as clearly as I did just now. Right then I panicked and realized that this is the beginning of the end...it's starting folks...my belly button is reverting from a innie to an outie. Don't believe me? Just look. See? It's beginning it's metamorphosis. And you know what that means, right? It means it's now time to purchase the pregnancy navel ring.
My navel ring and I have been together for a long time now, we have a history of 8 years to be exact. I can still remember vividly the exact day I got it done. I had befriended this German girl in my Biology class at NOVA, Svenya I think is how you spelt her name, and as it turns out she was also a witch. A nice witch though as she had lent her notes to some punk who never returned them. I met her that day and let her copy my notes and in return she gave me a free navel piercing as that was her job, piercing that is. She herself had over 20 piercing and red and black braids. She was unique, and I was the first Christian she had ever met who wasn't all freaked out by her and she was the first witch I had ever met. She offered to cast a spell on my ex-boyfriend at the time. I declined the offer, although very kind, and opted for the free piercing instead. I'll never forget when I got home and "surprised" my mom with my new accessory. She cried and said I had mutilated my body and how I was sinning. In my typical response, she always swore I should have been a lawyer, I told her that I would research it and if I found no reference to it in the Bible the piercing stayed. Sure enough I plead a good case, had great Bible verses to back it up and won. To this day she refuses to look at it and offers anyone $100 if they pull it out. Guess how thrilled she was when my big sister (a.k.a. The Boss) followed suit and pierced her navel just 2 weeks ago!
So, can you understand how I am quite hesitant to part with it now? I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep it. At my last prenatal appointment my O.B. asked if it was absolutely necessary to keep it. Well, is it absolutely necessary for you to keep your manhood?** Exactly.
And, I decided to only link the picture as many might find the site of a navel disturbing. Now you can never say that I don't take your feelings into consideration!
**I love my O.B. He's awesome and he puts up with my paranoia.
I've been trying to think of clever ways to make writing about boxes, lots and lots of boxes, interesting. This might come as shock to all of you...it's just not possible. There really isn't anything witty to write about on the subject of moving because your life gets overly consumed with not only boxes, lots and lots of them...but you also find yourself perusing the aisles of Home Depot in excitement over a curtain rod. Also, my other life consumption right now? The joys of unpacking all those damn boxes you spent hours packing just days ago. We didn't move far. We literally moved around the corner from one building to another so it's very sad to think I put so much love and care into packing these boxes for them to go half a mile. Can you say waste of good shopping/eBay time? But it's done, for the most part, with the exception of D's multitude of boxes full of cables. 4 boxes with nothing but cables, wires and video game consoles. Personally, I think he hasn't unpacked because he has no clue where each cable and wire go to. We got rid of a lot of his bachelor days furniture. Furniture in which all these random cable and wires were hidden out of sight. They have most likely sat there since he moved to Antartica six years ago, never touched but yet he still refuses to throw them away because, you know, you might actually need the cable when you finally figure out what the heck it was for in the first place. This concept made sense to all the other Engineers who came to help us move half a mile, go figure. I have threatened him that if the boxes aren't emptied by Sunday evening, I'll do the unpacking and by unpacking I mean throwing away whatever doesn't make sense to me. So, we'll see because you know, I'm pregnant and into that "nesting stage" I guess. And, again, by nesting I mean throw away whatever doesn't make sense to me or whatever I'm sick of looking at. I'm have become Salvation Army's best friend and when laziness hits I just walk it over to the dumpster.
Rather than posting pictures of my new found love of boxes, I'll post pictures of my ever growing belly. For those of you keeping track, I turned 20 weeks on Tuesday. And, I've only gained 6 lbs. so far, I am pretty proud. But I'm at the half way point and yet I'm still petrified something will happen. My newest milestone will be 27 weeks. There is a story out of my hometownof a woman who was dying but pregnant. Life support kept her alive until the her baby was viable. They just took the baby at 27 weeks and so far so good. So, hence my milestone!
Oh, and ignore the grey....I didn't realize how exposed I am there. Well, no, instead of ignore, let's all take the time to thank Melissa for her lovely gift of Maternity thongs. And if the glee from that wasn't enough, she also sent me a gift card to Motherhood. She heard my plea and answered and we all know how whinny a pregnant Princess can be. Yes, I know, she's saint isn't she? Saint Melissa....that has a good ring, don't you think? And just let me reiterate how much I love the Maternity Thong.
I know, it's taken me a long time to get these up. But we've been so consumed with this move that I haven't been able to see past boxes. Well that, and we couldn't find the cable to the scanner. Of course once the cable was found the network got all goofy. I just love moving. But, here she is, for her big pic debut:
Okay, I have no clue what we're supposed to be seeing but I do know that the lines measured her little heartbeat. The other side of the pic, that I have no clue. Any good guesses?
This seems to be her favorite position. She likes to lay sideways with her head on my left side and she spreads her body long ways with her little feet kicking my right side. So if you look closely at the scan you'll see her little head to the bottom right of the pic and then her spine following down her body. Not like I could make it out, but the ultrasound lady said her little face was kissing the placenta. This pic was taken after she refused to move. Yep, stubborn like her Mama.
Now, here she is refusing to give the classic face shot. Traditional? Not my girl. Little hand in the air, covering her face announcing that picture time was now over. Everytime we tried to get a good pic of her face she would move and block us.
This week, since Sunday particularly, has been the most exciting part of the pregnancy as I have begun to feel her move. I was getting very frustrated, 19 weeks and still no kicks or movement. Everytime someone would ask if I felt anything, my only reply was "Gas maybe?"...not very Princessy. But now I know for sure it's her. We have appointments now. She kicks around the same time every day and that is now the best part of my day. I look forward to sitting back and waiting for her to give a little hello. Today specifically has been the most movement yet. Not only can I feel the little kicks but I am also feeling her movement within me. I try to imagine what she's doing and what she looks like while she moves. I do love this stage and it's the most I've ever bonded with this pregnancy so far. Of course it freaks me out even more because I am getting very attached and falling in love more each day.
