Saturday, June 27, 2009

Getting on my nerves.

Or more appropriately, nerve.

My sciatic nerve, that is.

For the past several days, my day to day activities have been rudely interrupted by very sharp, excruciating pains in my lower back.

I had a doctor's appointment on Thursday. I'm not a complainer, but I complained. Or Dallin did. Doctor says it's very possible that baby is resting his cute little self on my sciatic nerve.

I say baby decided to string a bow with my sciatic nerve, and occasionally uses my butt for target practice. He shall be an olympic archer someday.

Trouble is, this pain is becoming more and more persistent, pretty much to the point where it is there all the time. Funny how you take little things like getting up or even just walking for granted! Suddenly, you're afraid to do either. And the world becomes a scary place.

Ibuprofen helps. Please don't freak out that I'm taking ibuprofen while I'm pregnant. My doctor said it's totally fine up until 32 weeks. I still take very small doses. I also still freak out a little bit. Then I remember that ibuprofen helps me walk. So I suck it up.

Anyway, baby's doing great! Good heartbeat, good growth. I can feel him moving quite often now. My weight gain is good, and I've even got a little belly to show for it. I took a picture...and I can't find the little cord thing to transfer said picture from camera to computer. So you'll have to imagine it.

Motherhood can't be any more painful than this right?

Wait...I take it back. I TAKE IT BACK!

Dang it, I think I just jinxed myself.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

OH BOT.

So.

Dallin and I go to get our ultrasound done yesterday.

We got there on time (fear #1 appeased).
The technician lady was not sick/absent for any other reason (fear #2 appeased).
All the equipment worked (fear #3 appeased).
The baby cooperated enough so that she could see the gender (fear #4 appeased).

Let's just say I was kind of expecting something to go wrong...and it didn't!

We told her that we wanted her to seal the "results" up in an envelope so we could open them at the big family party planned for that very reason. She did. And we didn't peek.

And when the moment FINALLY came, after eating lots of pink or blue sugar cookies and drinking pink or blue lemonade out of pink or blue cups and washing your hands with either the pink or blue soap in the bathroom (yes, my mother planned this party); and after waiting for everyone to arrive/get on the phone, and then for the video camera to be turned on, we opened the envelope....

and...

there was a little picture of our little baby, with a caption that said....

"OH BOT."

No, really - this is what it said. It would be kind of pointless for me to put the picture up on here, because you really can't see much of anything except those words.

After a split, devastating second of thinking I was going to be giving birth to Wall-E, I realized that the "T" is, of course, right next to the "Y" on a keyboard, and anyone, except expert typer people like blogger typer people, could easily make such a mistake. Technician lady should blog.

To be sure, we looked at the other pictures.

And, indeed, our precious baby boy made himself known. And technician lady spelled "boy" right in the other captions.

I mean, you couldn't see anything very clearly...which is why I'm not going to put any pictures up here. You'd probably be like, "Um, sweetie, I don't think you're having a baby, let alone a boy..." so it wouldn't really make sense to post the pictures. Just trust me.

The poor little guy wasn't moving very much at the moment, so we didn't really get any awesome pictures.

But, our pictures are clearly labelled "boy"/"bot," and really, I can see where she's coming from. It's there, people, okay?!

Oh my goodness...I'm gonna have a SON!

He's going to be the biggest ASU football fan ever. Heck, he's going to be the best ASU football player ever.

Oh yeah, that's my boy.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

The X/Y Debate

You know, over our baby's second chromosome. Which should make its intentions known by this Wednesday, the 17th. At 3:30 pm. We're a little bit stoked.

It's a funny thing, trying to guess a baby's gender. I mean, it's a 50/50 shot. Any "method" you have of guessing has a 50% chance of working. Hey, those are pretty good odds. But...also...pretty bad ones?

Anyway, what type of baby do you think we're going to have? Here are some fun, uh, hints (read: silly superstitions) to help you out:

-Morning sickness in early pregnancy is an indication of a girl.
(Uh, come to Mama, baby girl!)

-If the baby's heart rate is slower than 140, it's a boy. If it's faster than that, it's a girl.
(Our baby's heart rate was exactly 140 as of our last check-up...hmmm. Some of the things I found said if it's at least 140, it's a girl. I guess this will count towards the pink column)

-Headaches mean a boy
(BOY! Although I've always been rather headache prone)

-Carrying low=boy. Carrying high=girl
(Well, right now, when I do have a belly, I would say it's lower than higher. I don't really know how to tell...)

-Craving salty or sour foods means a boy; craving sweet foods means a girl
(If I had to choose between the two...I probably crave salty or sour more often)

-If your pillow faces north when you sleep, it's a boy. If it faces south, it's a girl.
(Mine faced West before we moved...now it faces South. I don't think I can count this one either way though...)

-If you've had bad breakouts while you're pregnant, it's a girl.
(I haven't really...but the past few days have been pretty bad)

-If the dad is gaining weight right along with you, it's a boy.
(Nope. Dallin's actually lost weight)

-Add your age at the time of conception to the number of the month you conceived. If the sum is even, it's a boy. If it's odd, it's a girl.
(Odd)

-If you refuse to eat the heel on a loaf of bread, it's a girl.
(What? Um...I would eat the heel. Especially if it's french bread. Yummy!)

-Check out the Chinese calendar
(This says it's a girl)

So, after all these pieces of "evidence," and leaving out the few that I really can't decide on, the final tally is...

BOY: 4
GIRL: 5

Too close to call, I say.

My mother's intuition (yay! I have one!) pushes me towards girl. Dallin actually thinks it's a girl too. My sister, however, who is apparently the authority on these things, is thinking blue. So go ahead and vote in our nifty poll thing at the top of the page and let us know what you're thinking!

I guess only time can tell. I sure am excited for it to spill the beans though.

Whatever brand you are, baby, we love you!

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Working Woman

I'm sure most of you have heard by now. I mean, this is big news - I don't know how you haven't heard, if you haven't. I figure you've at least seen the billboard I commissioned. Anyway...

I quit the bank.

It just wasn't worth it anymore, I tell you. Not worth it! Unhappiness was oozing out of my ears and making messes all over the place.


So I've been gone for about a month now. It's beautiful, man. I've even stopped yelling (or at least wanting to yell) at complete strangers because they are making/have made/were going to make my life completely miserable at the bank. Also, birds sing. They sing the "Hallelujah Chorus" in the back of my head whenever I don't have anything else to think about. It's quite magical.



Of course, quitting left me without a job. And I needed a job. I needed a job that would give me a lot of work - full time work, to be exact, since we are trying to qualify for a new house. I thought I'd get there with American Eagle, where I've been (off and on, part time) for about 3 years now. But, uh, no. Not even close. Not even close to close. It kind of pissed me off, to be honest....

So there I was, needing a job that would (1) give me at least 40 hours a week, (2) hire me like, right away, (3) not be completely miserable and horrific, and (4) wouldn't mind that I was (a) pregnant, and (b) probably going to leave the job after the summer since I am (i) having a baby and (ii) going back to grad school in August.

I got discouraged. This did not seem possible. Dallin, however, remained the picture of positivity, and spread the word to everyone we know - and their mothers - that I was on the hunt.

Turns out, it's a good thing word got to the mothers.

Enter our lovely friends John and Ceri. Ceri's parents run a Montessori preschool in Chandler, and they had been having "problems" (mysterious, deep-dark problems...I don't ask) with their office manager. Well, something(s?) happened to push everyone over the edge, and the school was left without an office manager right before the beginning of summer school.

40 hours a week. Starting right away. Paying me enough. Not needing to carry me over into the fall semester. At a preschool - and I'm going into Early Childhood Education.

Prayers. Are. Answered.

I've been at the school for only a few days, but so far, it has been a fantastic job! I'm doing my best to learn everything, and they're being very patient with me. The people are great, and I get to do a lot of organizational type stuff, which keeps me busy and helps me feel all neat and accomplished. I also get to spend a little time with the kiddos, which is FUN!

*Side note*: I am not making this job sound great just because I know the people I work with read my blog (hi guys!). If you think I am, come talk to me personally to get the "real story." I will then proceed to re-tell you everything I have written here, since it is all true. *End side note.*

The point is, this is exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it. It's amazing how things turn out for the best when you have a few good friends, a little positivity, and a whole lotta faith.

Or at least, when your husband has them. Dang, I got me a good man.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

I Like to Move It, Move It

The key word in this post's title is "it." Without the "it," you just have "I like to move, move."

And I don't. But I did. We did. Move, that, is.

Yes, we have moved out of our apartment! It was bittersweet for me. I mean, that was our first home! So many memories. Dallin doesn't really get sentimental about moving, change, etc. But I do. Our lease doesn't officially end for a few more days...I'll probably drag Dallin over there to "say goodbye" with me.

*tear*

Ok so on to the new place...

Dallin bought a condo before we got married. He lived in it until we got married, renting out the extra space to some friends. It is an excellent rental property - 3 bed, 3 bath, very close to ASU and shopping and fun things like that, close to the freeway, etc. The problem is, with summer here, everyone kind of goes every which way, leaving empty spots in the condo, which costs us. We figure if we're going to be paying for it, we might as well be living in it.

And here we are.

Moving went very well. We had a TON of help (THANK YOU!) which was doubly excellent seeing as how I couldn't do/really didn't feel like doing much with this fetus sucking my energy. But seriously - we were moved fast and it was awesome.

So, how is the place you wonder?

Remember how I mentioned there were college guys living here? Well, there were. 6 of them.

6 of them.

We got to spend several days cleaning out all of the junk that had been left behind, including (but not limited to) clothes, dishes, food, furniture, an sports equipment.

We (Dallin) have worked hard at patching up holes in walls (some fairly large ones) and fixing/replacing broken hardware type things (fans, lights, tubs, sinks, closet bars, the gate, etc.)

Also, there is a cockroach infestation. In the kitchen. In the kitchen, people. Those little (insert appropriate cuss word here, plural form) are everywhere. I have no idea what to do with our food! The fridge stuff is safe, but I don't want to put all the dry stuff in the cupboards! We've sprayed twice and while most of the we find now are dead (much better than alive), we are still findind waaaay too many for my comfort.

Hence, for dinner tonight I am having a lot of Doritos out of a bag I just barely bought. The baby loves it.

Anyway, sorry to complain. Blessings are abundant and I really shouldn't let this stuff get me down.

Except the cockroaches. I mean, how am I supposed to save money and eat healthier when I can't even cook? Dallin went to Jack in the Box at midnight last night for me because I couldn't bring myself to eat my own food!

Throw in some paint/Raid fumes, and I feel sorry for my unborn child...even if I am wearing a mask half the time.

Sigh...this too shall pass, right? Accentuate the positive!

p.s. I'll have to post some pictures of what we've done with the place. It really will be sweet once we're finished!

p.p.s. I typed this whole post with one hand, fyi. My other fingers are for Dorito-eatin. I amaze myself.