Harmon(y) Unscripted

So, Steve and I made a deal a long while back that I’d read The Song of Ice and Fire series (SoIaF hereafter) if he read The Hunger Games trilogy. I’m now on “A Dance With Dragons”. We have been watching the HBO series too and, while I find that the little changes they have made kinda irk me, the majority of it is spot on and it has given me further motivation to read these dang books. I’ve managed to pass Steve in the books and we have full-blown SoIaF discussions and philosophical debates (I.e. what would you do if you were Sam? What do you think is Littlefinger’s main motivation? Is Jon a good Lord Commander? You get the idea…). I always stereotyped sci-fi readers/fans as the comicon attendees and magic card players but I will have to change my way of thinking bc apparently, I’m a scifi girl and my nerd is showing.

-T

Pregnancy diet books and their authors, for I have sinned. I just polished off an entire order of Little Caesar’s Crazy Bread. By myself. And that may or may not have followed me eating an entire bag of cotton candy.

If I gain 200 lbs during this pregnancy, I’m suing Little Caesar’s. Hey, it worked for the guy with the McD’s HOT coffee…

In a food coma,
Tala

With this pregnancy has come the realization that I am old. My hips hurt. I get winded going up (or down) stairs. My gums hurt and bleed when I floss (ok, that’s not a sign of age so much as gum disease but still…). I even had to start taking fiber supplements and laxatives!! I am only 14 weeks along. I would say that November can’t come soon enough but at this rate, I’ll be using a walker and on oxygen by that time- a very long 5 months away. Michelle Duggar and all you other 30 and 40-somethings that are now or have recently been pregnant, my hat is off to you.

So, I had my 2nd prenatal appointment on Wednesday. To date, I have lost 10 pounds due to my lovely morning sickness, putting me at 150. At first that concerned me but now I’m pretty ok with it. If I gain the 25-30 lbs I’m “supposed” to after having lost 10, I’ll only really be up 15-20. Niiiice, yeah? Oh, and I’m totally still able to rock my size 6 jeans. That’s what’s up.

Honestly though, the best part of the appointment was getting to hear our little peanut’s heartbeat for the first time. Best. Sound. Ever. And I think that’s when it REALLY hit Steve. He may not want you all to know this but that über manly hubby of mine actually got a little misty eyed. It positively yanked at my heart strings. Between seeing his reaction and hearing that beautiful sound, I got a bit teary myself. I was telling my cousin about it and we agreed that once I start showing, Steve will probably cease talking to me in lieu of talking to the baby. Hell, he and K are like 2 peas in a pod. They are each other’s best friends. No doubt kiddo #2 will make them the 3 Musketeers. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

In summary, I’m still a size 6, my hubby is a softy at heart, and I have now heard the most beautiful sound in the world for a second time.

One Lucky Lady,
T

It’s been one of those days where it seemed like every time I answered my phone, it’s been an unfavorable call. It was a day full of nausea and “your claim has been delayed so your pay is being held” and “your medicine is on back-order”. Awesome, thanks for calling. And to top it all off, there was absolutely nothing good on tv. That generally wouldn’t bother me since I’m more of a reader than a tv watcher but I was already on edge. All I needed was some good nonsense tv (a paradox, I know) and some ice cream or Chinese food, dammit. I got none of the above.

Fast forward to this evening. I picked up K from school and started dinner while she told me all about her field trip to the zoo- her favorite animal was the giraffes but she also loved the baby hippo. After dinner, the world’s best kid came up unprompted and smothered me with kisses and then snuggled me on the couch while we watched “Jake and the Neverland Pirates”. I immediately felt the frustration of the day melt away and after 30 minutes, I was more relaxed and content than I had been all day. It’s funny how a kid can do that. This is what makes everything worth while.

It’s about time to return the favor and give the kid some bedtime snuggles. I never feel so complete as when Steve and I snuggle our girl in her Tinker Bell decorated room.

I’m going to reflect on that tomorrow while my phone is on silent and I take a bubble bath and eat chocolates. At the same time. I’m pregnant, that’s allowed right?

Ok, I don’t plan on making this a habit but I have a quick vent about my boobs. Actually, I’m not even sure they’re mine. Mine were predictable and sizeable without being a burden. These things are a full size larger than the ones I know and love. They are big and hard and swollen and downright obnoxious. I understand this is a normal part of pregnancy but it has officially breached the line between perk and nuisance. I’ve been icing and heating and heating and icing and nothing helps. Should this be happening so early? I don’t recall this ever happening when I was pregnant with K. At least not to this extent. I didn’t have rock hard breasts until AFTER I had her. Admittedly, I looked like a boob job gone wrong at that point but it was somewhat expected. I was prepared for it. This…this is just ridiculous.

Steve, undoubtedly, has a different opinion. Which he can feel free to share, the day he has to carry boulders around on his chest 24/7.

Booby trapped, Tala

I’ve always been someone who kind of made fun of the women who bitch and moan about morning sickness. I had maybe 10 episodes of nausea during my pregnancy with K and never once threw up so I thought the women who gripe about how terrible their pregnancies went were pansies. Just put your big girl panties on, take some pepto, and move on. Gah

At this time, however, I would like to retract those thoughts and offer my sincere apology to all the women I judged. I couldn’t have been more clueless.

Here I am in my 10th week of pregnancy, fresh out of the hospital for malnutrition and dehydration and with a zofran pump as my new constant companion. For those who are unfamiliar, as I previously was, it’s a pump with a small tube and catheter similar to an IV but inserted into fatty tissue to deliver a constant stream of anti-nausea meds. The catheter is in my belly and the pump is in a small, über fashionable (yeah right) black fanny pack that goes *everywhere* I go.

At this point, I should also apologize to my mother for mocking her mercilessly for actually wearing a fanny pack from time to time. (But seriously, they’re not cute.)

Anyway, I tried prescription pills and Seabands and gingerale and “Mommy’s Bliss” from Whole Foods but nothing worked. I was miserable and generally unhealthy after my 3.5 weeks of vomiting 10x a day. So now I’m tethered to a fanny pack.

I just had my first visit from the home care nurse- yeah, the same ones that visit really old people- so that she could change my catheter site, which has to be done every 3 days. By the end of this I’m going to look like a human pin cushion.

I’m sure this is my penance for being so judgemental. Well played, God. Point taken. Mom, I’m gonna cut you some slack on the fanny pack issue. Now, about those elastic waist pants…

A work in progress,
Tala

I have officially reached a new low. I’m now 8.5 weeks pregnant and my morning sickness and fatigue are both in full swing. That said, I hate doing the dishes. Or any chores for that matter. Which leads me to this admission: I just ate a bowl of cereal using my 5yo daughter’s Winnie the Pooh bowl. The same one she used this morning to eat her own cereal. Have I mentioned that I REALLY hate doing the dishes right now? I’m being resourceful and creative in my dirty dish prevention. That’s good, right? … Somebody stop me before I start reusing her plates and utensils.

Tired, Tala