A new month

well... we did it. everyone here in Johnsonville survived Danny's first month on the outside.

I think the hormones are balancing out; I feel less and less depressed-slash-pessimistic about my personal appearance, my capabilities as a functioning human, and pretty much life in general.


The floors still aren't done, and the world hasn't stopped... go figure. Sure... I'm still cringing... but I've been thinking more about what Rhena's face will be like this year when she gets to open about a gagillion presents from Santa and family members....


As for Danny... my little moosey.... he's great. he still doesn't sleep much, and he constantly eats... but he hasn't peed or jet-rocket-pooped on me in quite a while, so he's currently on my good side.

Rhena continues to amaze me. the things that she says and does crack us up regularly, and though I still watch her like a hawk when she's around the baby... her intentions towards him are nothing but loving.


I had the distinct pleasure of celebrating Chanukah with my Twinkie last night. We all went to her house for dinner. The main course was Latkas and Brisket, and I think I gained about 5 pounds. Not sure if I mentioned it or not, but Twinkie was a professional opera singer, so to hear her sing while lighting the Menorah was a truly moving experience for me. I felt very blessed to be sharing in her family's traditions.

I come from a family rich in traditions, so I'm big on learning about what other people do. Now that I'm a mom and our family is complete, I'm trying to figure out the balance of incorporating traditions that Troy and I grew up with as children into OUR children's lives... but also trying to start some new ones.

This year I took Rhena and Danny to a pottery place and had Rhena paint some ornaments. Danny was SUPREMELY pissed off when I painted his foot blue to imprint the ornament, but I think he's over it now. I think as the years go by and their ornament collection grows, it'll be a nice activity to look forward to each year. At least for now *I* look forward to doing it again, and since they can't drive yet... they'll be doing it again next year. hah!


what are YOUR traditional schticks for this time of year?

Mirror Mirror

So I've noticed lately that I am NOWHERE in the same ballpark of looking at myself and seeing what other people see.

I think I have a decent grasp of who I am and what my capabilities are. I know I'm an attractive person with a normally great personality (hormonal breakdowns not withstanding). I know I'm not, nor will probably ever be one of those HOT MOMS you see on tv or in certain web circles. but again.. I do ok, and most days I would venture to say I'm not painful to look at, nor am I causing secret laughing fits of the general populous.

As a mom, I also feel I'm doing ok. Rhena is healthy and happy, and for the most part, a delightfully well-tempered and mild-mannered polite little girl. But then again, she's two, so that could change in a few years. As for Danny... well, I haven't dropped him yet, and I manage to keep up on his diaper changing, feedings and bathing.

As a wife... well.. let's just say Troy's been getting the short end of the stick lately. he does get dinner cooked every night and he has yet to run out of clean clothes to wear... and he'll get the occasional foot-rub as a bonus at the end of a long day... but that's about all.

but yet... I have to be honest and tell you I feel like I'm really falling short lately. I regularly find myself feeling unaccomplished and distracted, as well as frustrated for the lack of things I seem to not be getting done. plus my hardwoods are so disgustingly filthy it makes me cringe to think of it.

Again.. just being honest. I feel for the most part I'm doing OK...but ok has been feeling like a failure lately. Well, definitely at least not enough. So lately, when I have been communicating my feelings of failure to some friends, I am met with cheers of how great I'm doing and how I'm being too hard on myself.

So this makes me wonder.... am I REALLY being that unreasonable? I appreciate the sentiments my friends slather on me, and I understand that all support is well-intended. I do, after all, have wonderful, generous and supportive friends (both inside and out) and I would say it's just their loving nature that causes them to say what they do.

but in the same token.... back to me wondering.... have their standards dropped??? have their expectations or opinions of my capabilities been hampered such that me showering and leaving the house is REALLY a cause for celebration?

Perhaps no one wants to be the one picking on the post-partum chick... and I imagine fucking with a hormonally unstable woman probably isn't the best idea, so I can't really blame anyone for not giving me some tough love... but still.

In some probably sadistic way, I think maybe it would be nice to hear that yeah... I DID drop the ball majorly, and I DO need to step up my game a little. I mean... nobody gets better being told they're perfect all the time, right? not that I'm being told I'm perfect... but being told all the time how I'm exceeding all normal expectations isn't giving me any incentive to do better.

Granted, I fully recognize that if NO ONE was telling me I was doing a good job, I would still probably feel like an unaccomplished piece of shit... so perhaps this is a moot point.

i'm lucky to have the support network that I do, and appreciate the way my loved ones try to boost my morale and make me feel better about myself. But I also appreciate the girl in the mirror who isn't complacent just getting by every day. I just wish that the messages I've been getting from each lately weren't so opposite of one another.

The week that wouldn't end

sometimes, especially when you're a raging post-partum bag of hormones, you have a bad day.


sometimes... those bad days are really only a few shitty events in the morning that set your mood to foul for the rest of the day. I seem to be a master of those kind of days. Even back in my swingin' single days... I can recall waking up late, slightly hungover, only to find that my period had unexpectedly arrived and ruined a super-cute pair of underwear, and... well... you get the point.

And now... well, now that I'm married and the parent of two other beings, I'm four times as likely to have shitty events, cause there's my OWN propencity to welcome misfortune, and as well as the likelihood of Troy, Rhena and/or Danny being in a bad mood and passing it on to me.


So with that in mind... trust me when I tell you this week doesn't seem like it will ever end. cause you know... SOMETIMES you get hit upside the head with shitty events for four days in a row.

and that's the catch you see. cause while I WANT this week to just be over already.. (cause trust me when I tell you this has been one humdinger of a week for me) yes, while I want the week to just be over, I then realize that we're one week closer to Christmas, and I think of all the things that aren't done yet and I start to breathe funny and sweat.

Come to think of it, since becoming pregnant, I've been spending a lot of time on that emotional fence. I often find myself just surviving by repeating the mantra of this only just being a phase, and how it shall too soon pass, whatever the "this" or 'it' may be.

and just as suddenly as our house can turn into an utter screaming chaos, I find myself wrapped in a moment of wonder and accord and I find myself wishing I could freeze time.

oh well. 'tis the season, right?

A Week(end) moment

so I'm taking advantage of the fact that Troy's home from work and I'm allowing myself to be online.

so I guess while I'm here, I ought to say out loud that it's Troy's birthday. not that it really matters to most of you... but here in our house, it's another official occasion for Rhena to sing happy birthday, and for me... well, it's another reason to eat cake.


so happy birthday to Troy. bring on the cake!


ps... new pics are on the photoblog, including some of the newest Johnson.

We interrupt this regularly scheduled silence

... just letting you know that I really have nothing to talk about.

we've been in survival mode lately.... and while that's going fine by most counts... it's pretty exhausting.

I've begun to adjust to the humungo TV, as well as very little sleep and the GINORMOUS milk cans that have replaced my once-oh-so-cute boobs. Though I must make a point of noting how being adjusted to something and actually LIKING something are two different things. well.. maybe not so much the TV. I'm starting to like it. expecially since my blind ass can pretty much watch it now without glasses, the screen is so freaking big!


my head has been residing in a place somewhere between up my ass and in the quiet fog of sleep deprivation... so I pretty much have been unable to finish complete sentences lately. I do much better in the morning after my mug of cold coffee, but I could just be so far gone that I only THINK I'm doing better when in actuality, the caffiene is just making me talk FASTER, so it seems like I'm actually saying more.


but yeah. it's friday, and I made it through my first whole week (5 days) of 2 kids by myself. wow.. just writing that makes me tired. but still... five days. and no one got hurt! not a bad start, if I do say so myself.

alrighty... I'm off to do things that I only dare to dream about when both kids are awake. you know.. like EAT, and use the bathroom.


have a great weekend, gang!

Coming up for Air

well, every once in a while here at the Fever, I like to talk about stuff that's completely NOT related to babies.

today needs to be one of those days. I'd tell you why, but then I'd be talking about babies, and we're not doing that today.


SO ANYWAYS.... things have been trucking right along in these here parts. In a post-partum moment of despair, I pointed to the TV section of the Best Buy ads that comes in the Sunday paper. Needless to say, by merely showing the faintest interest in TVs, I opened a floodgate I soon would not be able to contain. In all actuality, though, I think those floodgates would have been bum-rushed even if I was in the same room as Troy and the ads at the same time. (Yes.. Troy is THAT bad.... remember the ooh-ooh-gotta-go-to-the-world-series fiasco a little while back?)

so floodgates were opened, nay I say Pandora herself was up my ass with her box of despair, and there was no going back. So Troy got his TV. oh, excuse me, WE got the TV... I forgot. It's a gift for BOTH of us. yeah. whoopity do.


so since we have this behemoth monster in our living room now, we decided it was time to get caught up on the netflix movies that have been kicking around. After three failed attempts in the hospital to watch "road to Guantanamo", we decided to just return it. I don't think troy made it past the first 5 minutes of any time it was on.

we've seen Primer, which I think I would have liked better if, you know.. I was a rocket scientist or something. oh wait. I WAS one. strike that. make it enjoyable if I had a PhD in mathmephysics or something. I mean, it was a good movie, but whoa. some of that shit was way deep.

another decent to good rating for a movie would go to I am David. It ranged from cute to heart-wrenching, and definitely made me think of how appreciative I am for the way things are here in Johnsonville.

Lastly... we wasted two hours of our lives this weekend watching Silent Hill. (not even putting a link cause I don't want to be associated in any way to that crap) I can NOT even begin to go off about how sucky this movie was. Granted, there were some cool special effects, but jeepers, batman, if they spent just a FRACTION of their special effects budget on better writers or better actors... well, I suppose it would have still sucked. yeah, it was THAT bad.

it's a shame, too. I don't know if it's because I'm getting older, or perhaps my criteria is too high, but I really haven't found a good horror flick lately. I mean, there are some really good (read disturbing) movies out there that border on slightly plausible that make you think... but it seems all the horror flicks just run by a shade of hokey anymore.

Now when I was younger, I'll definitely say Freddy Krueger had me jumping once or twice. now when I watch the movie, I laugh. Have we become a society TOO reliant on good special effects? I dunno, cause it seems as if nowadays the more special effects I see, then less scary something is?

My all-time favorite scary movie is the Exorcist. Not only did it have the holy-fuckernuts shock factor, it also grapples with the possibility of being able to happen. well, for me it did, but that's just cause I go to church and Ouiji boards freak me out.

but the point is.. how OLD is that movie? surely there is a good (read scary) movie out there that's been released within the past ten years?

so get to it, gang.... leave me a comment and suggest a movie. I'm looking for scary ones, but I'll take other good movie hints as well.

peace out.. I'm off to take care of things I'm not talking about today!

will you still love me?

when I'm 34????


yeah. today's my birthday. holy crappernuts. I'm 34, and the mom of 2 kids. I swear if anyone asked me 10 years ago where I thought I'd be in 10 years, I doubt I'd answer that I'd be sitting on the couch watching my two year old daughter pour water from her cup onto her head and praying that the grunting from my less-than-two-weeks-old-son is really just the result of him pooping, and not the onset of another demand to be milked yet again.


But I'm here now, and all things considered, it's not so bad.


yesterday was a pretty random post, but that's kinda how things have been flowing around here.


BUT... today is my birthday, and for all intents and purposes, it's the beginning of a new year for me. I'm excited for what the new year will bring for the fever.... both the knowns and unknowns.


I know for sure that this month will be busy, what with the new baby, visitors, Christmas, then Danny's Baptism on the 30th. Springtime will see my students and my very own Godchild celebrating their first Communion (trip to new jersey with two kids... whooo-boy!)

there will be potty training of Rhena, there will be first words and first everything elses with Danny.

there will be feeble (but hopefully successful) attempts for me to lose weight and get into a shape other than 'flubby'.


and a whole lot more. shit, I may even do another template one of these days.

but for now, I'll just leave that one in the category of 'unknowns' and enjoy the day. or at least enjoy the cupcakes that are about to come out of the oven. Can't go wrong with a little cupcake action on the birthday.

happy december, gang!

what a week

dear internet....


sorry I haven't been around lately. turns out being a parent of two kids is harder than I thought it would be. Don't get me wrong... I'm enjoying the hell out of my babies.... it's just... well.... it's a little exhausting.


My hormones have been in high gear, so take everything you read here with a grain of salt.


this past week has been very busy. there have been many firsts, with highlights including being peed on by Master Daniel, and the very next day being the target of a jet-stream of mustard-colored clotted cream from my darling boy's ass.

I experienced my first emotional breakdown on Saturday (a whole week earlier than it took me to break down with rhena!) and I also had my first post-partum poop.

There have been very very dark moments when I sincerely doubted my ability to survive the day, much less the next 18+ years.

I weeped with sorrow that Danny and Rhena were getting royally screwed with my parenting skills, cause how in hell am I going to balance my time between two children and basic personal hygeine?

There have been times during this past week that I wanted to divorce troy, others still that I wanted to cause him bodily harm. Those moments were fleeting, though, and definitely outnumbered by the times I wondered how everyone else in the world is surviving without Troy as their husband.

my breasts have become freakishly large. and scabbed, and yeah.. every time Danny's nursing, it feels like someone is trying to staple my nipple to sandpaper. over and over and over again.

I fought back tears as I said goodbye to my parents on monday morning. but inside I was scared. scared of how in hell I was going to manage without their safety net. scared.... but ready.

I have become obsessed with my weight and size of my stomach. not healthy, I know, but I can't help it. I'm not going to starve myself or anything, because let's face it.. I'm constantly hungry and I love food way too much. I do know I need to stop being so hard on myself. it's only been 9 days, I know.... but still. my stomach is distracting.

but not all is doom and gloom. There have been moments of pure bliss this past week, too. holding both of my children and knowing there is nothing but pure love in my arms is something I try to do several times a day.

Hearing Danny's quiet wheeze as he sleeps next to me has got to be close to what heaven sounds like. but I could be biased.


friends, family and neighbors have been SO generous. there has been a steady arrival of gifts, both large and small. we as a family feel very loved. I as an individual feel beyond blessed.

and I HAVE managed to shower every day. I may not be sleeping much, but at least I feel clean.




anyways. there you have it. sort of. I'm giving myself another week or two before I expect the fog to clear slightly and I swear pictures are coming.

We did it

well.. we all survived his first day.


who's that? oh yeah.. HIS first day!


That would be Daniel Richard, our new not-so-little little boy.


Eventually I'll get around to telling you about how I made a complete ASS of myself talking when on lots of drugs, and how I threw up like it was my job in the operating room. I imagine I'll be spending future days pondering about how LARGE my son's ball sack seems in comparison to his tiny tiny little penis, and just how difficult it really is to clean said genital area when covered in a mucous-based tar-colored shit.

(for those of you who aren't in the know, like I wasn't in the know a few days ago... might I suggest taking a walnut, dipping it in blackish green latex paint, and using a papertowel to wipe clean. Add screaming child who maintains continuous ability to stick own feet in his own still-covered-in-shit-asscrack, and now you know the experience of cleaning up Danny's diaper...)

but like I said... there's time for that later.


Right now, I'm here to say that it was all worth it. the puking, the cramping, the stress, the more puking, the pebble shits, and everything. I'm completely in love, and while I'm still slightly nervous about how it's going to be to raise a boy into a good man like his father.... I absolutely can't imagine if he was a she.

It's a...new BABY!

Well it's the day we've been waiting for! Carrie went into labor on her own last night (woohoo just like she really really wanted) around 11pm.

They got to the hospital around 1am...

and around 3am...

DANIEL RICHARD

was pulled into the world!

The big guy weighed in at 9 lbs and 21 1/2" long.

No wonder she was so sick - he was taking up every available inch of space in there! I'll post more details when they're available...but for now...

VERY BIG and HEARTFELT CONGRATULATIONS to Carrie and Troy and Rhena!!

And Welcome to the Fever, Danny!

-Susie

The Countdown

well, we're getting close to the 24-hours-to-go mark.


funny... I've had 2 weeks to prepare, and by every definition I'm ready, but today I have a list of shit to do?


I guess it's different when preparing to 'go at any time' vs. knowing you're leaving at such and such time.


today I'm feeling inclined to finally address and send all the thank you's from the afternoon tea that was thrown in my honor 100 years ago.

I'm going through shutterfly and making sure all the albums have been sent to the inlaws

e-mailing some people

making sure my DVR is going to record the office and Grey's and Medium while we're in the hospital (god forbid I miss a tv show!!)

some of rhena's laundry, so "Gamma" and "Hoo-Hoo" don't have to go in search of clean PJ's this week, or be doing laundry on the day we come home with the new baby.

gotta switch Rhena's car seat form my car to my dad's car, just in case they need to take her anywhere while we're gone.


what else? oh.... eat everything in sight cause I'm not allowed any food or water after midnight tonight. (yeah.. that should make me just a real peach tomorrow morning)



I dunno what else to say, internet. I mean, I DO... I have like a jillion thoughts in my head as far as wonders and fears for how this will all turn out... not the cutting open business... just the whole "holy shit we're gonna have 2 kids" thoughts....


but for now, there's things to cross off my list, and time to be spent with Rhena.



oh. in case I don't post again today... everyone be on your best behavior. Susie's going to be a guest blogger tomorrow to let y'all know the details of the One Within. I want everyone to give her a warm and appreciative welcome, ok?

ok. til the next time....

One day closer

every day that passes that I don't go into labor is just one day closer to Tuesday.


I'm happy to have our 'drop birth' date (I was gonna say 'drop dead' date, but that just doesn't sound appropriate here)

Tuesday seems far enough away that anything CAN still happen, but yet close enough that I'm not going to kill any neighbors cause it's too far away.

Now, looking back at the fact that my due date was November SEVENTH, I can't help but shake my head and wonder what's up. Is there something inherently wrong with me that I can't do this? I mean, over the course of nine+ months, you'd think the netherlands would have gotten the memo.... but apparently not?

Then on the other hand... I can't say I really mind, either. sure... right now I'm big as a fucking house, and moving around is a bit uncomfortable... but the puking has been at bay for THREE WEEKS as of tomorrow. This is beyond phenomenal for me... I mean, what a nice way to go out!

and of course there's that huge part of my brain that says... no labor = no pain... so putting off just one more day (for the past two weeks) has worked out ok, too.

But I'm ready. ready to meet the One Within... ready to see Rhena's face when she meets her little brother or sister for the first time.... ready to see Troy hold our child.... the one we made for all the right reasons.

SO I'm going to bed smiling tonight... knowing that even if tonight goes by without rushing to the hospital... tomorrow I'll wake up and be one more day closer.

A word from our Sponsor

hello world.

it's me, the baby. no... I'm not really typing this, but I probably could, based on how gestationally old I am already.


I wanted to tell you a few things about how shit's rolling here in the womb, so you can understand why I really haven't fealt like coming out.


first of all... it's nice and warm in here. I keep hearing mommy talk about a cold front coming through outside (supposed to get into the 50's in the next few days) so I'm in no hurry to deal with that. in here, it's all summer, all the time. me likes the balmy weather, ya dig?


Second..... I am WELL FED in here. I've been getting a constant stream of chocolate flavored fluid for the past 9 months (give or take a week and a half) and lemmee tell you... its GOOD!!!! I keep hearing mumble jumble about stuff called MILK... but unless it's brown and served with banana bread, over ice cream, or helping me wash down these things called BROWNIES I keep hearing about... I'll take what's on the menu in here.


Also, I don't know if mommy mentioned this yet, but by the sound of things, I'm a pretty big baby. (about 8 pounds 12 ounces??) Now, I'm no doctor, but if any of you have seen a woman's tidget before... they're not too big. Well.. at least mommy's isn't from what I can see from in here. Now... for all of YOU trying to imagine what *I'm* being expected to do.. I want you to run out to your nearest golf course and try to ram your head into the nineth hole. IF you can get your head through without looking like a conehead... go on ahead and see if the rest of your body fits through to the other side, will ya? then get back to me and let me know how you did it, cause the other day I was hanging out in here and some doctor lady with gloves was knocking on my door, and could barely fit her finger through my door. people.. lemme tell you.. until I see some decent sun light, I ain't goin NOWHERE.


now with all you folks out there encouraging mommy to try castor oil or sex.... shut the hell up, will you???? the idea of my mom and dad having sex TOTALLY grosses me out... and ewwww.... being right THERE for it? SICK! Also.. that crapping thing sounds like a bad idea. Mom may be a woman, but she ain't no lady when it comes to the hind quarters, if you get my drift. also, I've been kept awake for probably at least 6 months worth of hours during my stay here listening to her intestines. they're a very mean place, and I've done my best not to piss them off while I'm here. Rumor on the inside here is that they are very violent, and given the 31 weeks of puking I witnessed.... let's not stir the pot, ok?


anyways.. that's about all for now. I'm comfortable, and know I have a ride set for Tuesday. If things start to suck in here, I promise I'll come out sooner, but in the meantime... just cheer for Michigan against Ohio tomorrow. Thought it would be nice for Daddy to be in a good mood, too.


peace out, and see you on the flip side, gang...

The One Within

They say the waiting is the hardest part

somehow, I think a guy said that, cause seriously... wouldn't the whole... PUSHING A BABY OUT be the hardest part?


of course, I still wouldn't know, cause this baby's still hanging in me like I'm passing out free drinks.


so yeah. me. still pregnant.


and you? how have YOU been, dear readers?


really, there's not much for me to say other than my appointment went well yesterday. the baby is doing great.... all checked out to be fab-u-loso inside. speaking of inside... Boney-maroney doctor was up to her old tricks again, and after having her entire arm up in me reading braille for some underprivledged kids... she came to the conclusion that I'm still barely 1cm dilated.

lovely.

so now we're in the process of trying to get on the hospital schedule for tuesday the 21st for a c-section. This will have given me 2 full weeks to go into labor on my own, and if still nothing's shaking loose by tuesday, well then, by golly, we're just gonna go right in and take the damn thing out.


and that... is basically that.


oh well.. today is one of those crappy days, and rhena's napping, so I think I'm going to follow suit. I'll let ya know if anything happens, o-b-k-b?

Nothing to see here

sorry. no news.

no contractions, no waters breaking... just a whole lot of being big and farting like a trucker.

I'm pretty hot, huh?


anyways.. I have an appointment tomorrow, so we'll see what they say then. I'm supposed to get another ultrasound, and an exam. I imagine after having a doctor's entire arm up my crotch that I should be able to get SOME news, but who knows....

til then... I remain pregnant.

I did it!!!

no... not give birth or anything really newsworthy like that....


I sent out an e-mail yesterday postponing the Christmas Social.


It killed me to do it, but ultimately, I know it was the right thing to do. For the sake of the baby's health, allowing myself to recover just a little, and my overall sanity (which we already know is on shaky ground) I spoke with Troy and we agreed to postpone the Social.


I feel better about things now. A little selfish, maybe, but also thinking that I'll be thanking myself on the 2nd when at 8pm I'm having a hormonal and sleep-deprived all-out breakdown that I don't have to stick my fat belly into something presentable and serve drinks to my neighbors. time will tell.... but I have a hunch I really will be happy to have a quiet house that night.


Speaking of quiet.... the house is right now, so I'm actually going to lay down and take a nap. Even if it doesn't make my hips feel better, it'll be something fun to do other than pee every 20 minutes.


hope y'all are having a great weekend.

The good, the bad, and the baby

well gang..... I had another appointment today, and still no sign of the One Within coming out soon.


this is both good and bad.... but probably not for why you would think. or for what you may think I think. I think.

ANYWAYS....


the good news is that all is fine. the baby continues to be very active. This may or may not be directly related to the amount of chocolate I gorge myself on regularly, but it sure is a mover. and a kicker.. but we won't get into that now.

more good news is that despite being overdue, the docs are in no hurry to speed things up. I know... for all the bitching I've done thus far, you'd think I'd want to hurry up and have this kid already... but to be perfectly honest... I'm totally ok with the way things are right now. I STILL haven't had a full-on puke session since that last Sunday, so I think this actually ties or beats or is pretty damn close to my longest streak of no puking since approximately week EIGHT of my pregnancy. YES... I'm waking up at night choking on the vomit that has creeped up my esophagus, YES.... my hips are aching as if someone ripped my legs off and shoved them back into my pelvis backwards, and YES.... I'm peeing every 15-45 minutes because this kid keeps thwacking at my bladder... but I HAVEN'T BEEN PUKING!!!!!! and BECAUSE I haven't been puking, I've been laying off the heavy-duty-anti-puke medication (zofran), which ALSO means I have been able to SHIT every day!!!!

people.... minus the hips, the night-chokes, and peeing... I feel fucking AWESOME!!!!


but aside from that, I'm especially happy that my doctors are not trying to intervene, because I really really want this baby to come out when it's ready. For as anal as I can tend to be... I really was against scheduling a c-section and essentially 'picking' my child's birthday, based on schedules and convenience. And so I'm getting my wish.

I signed up for a VBAC, and I'm being given the chance to let my body go into labor on its own. sweet. Of course the flip side of this is that the day is coming that I may have to push a child out of my tidget, and that in itself scares the living daylights out of me. BUT... this baby will come when it's supposed to.... and to me, that's pretty magical.

so we all understand.. I'm happy things are just in the flow right now. I'm actually enjoying my mom being here. Sure, we get snippy with each other, and both of us will be the first to say the other is a pain in the ass at times.... but it's really nice having her here. Seeing her interact with Rhena is something I USUALLY only get to see a handful of times a year. So to see the way they play, to see the way Rhena adores my mom, and moreso the CONSTANT outpouring of love from my mom to Rhena... and to see it every day??? well, frankly.... I feel Blessed.


But like anything, all goodness can't come without a price. The longer this baby stays inside, the longer my mom remains away from my dad. and while each of THEM will be the first to say that the other is a pain in the ass, they truly are a good team. They both manage to drive each other crazy and keep the other in line, and while they're each awesome individuals, they are really at their pinnacle when together. I guess that's what 39 years together does to a team. yeah... 39 years. crazy, right? tomorrow is their anniversary. I feel bad they won't be together to celebrate.... but worse because it's because of me.

and another thing that's been weighing heavy on me is our annual Christmas Social. This year will be the 8th year in a row in which this party has been held. It's been slated to be held this year on December 2nd, and I'm afraid that the longer this baby stays inside, the less feasible it is for us to have this party.

This social is MY SHIT, people. I DO NOT want to cancel, I really don't. but even if this baby is born like RIGHT NOW AS I'M TYPING... it will still be less than a month old by the time we have a houseful of drunk strangers milling in and out of our house. Stubborn, obstinate me is saying fuck it.. have the party anyway... besides, we've already told everyone about it, we can't just cancel now....

But the "feeling-very-fortunate-to-have-even-gotten-pregnant-and-carry-a-baby-to-term-AND-be-allowed-to-have-said-miracle-come-on-its-own-terms-and-by-the-way-did-we-mention-that-we're-done-having-children-after-this-one-so-is-it-really-smart-to-jeopardize-the-health-and-well-being-OF-AN-INFANT-a-beautiful-innocent-defenseless-INFANT-for-the-sake-of-some-friends-and-neighbors-having-a-good-time??" side of me is thinking we should postpone the social til like January or something. Especially thinking that this baby may not even show up until the 22nd!!! Somehow having a big neighborhood brewhahhah doesn't sound like a smart idea when your baby is 10 days old.


bah humbug.


oh well. I guess in the end, I'm getting what I wanted.... and a little more to boot. Perhaps this child's first lesson to me is that having Christmas Spirit leans a little more on the side of forgiveness, understanding and patience, and a little less towards staunch ability to keep commitments. I hope our friends can see it that way, anyway. Either way, I'm sure that however this year's social shakes down, it'll help us figure out who's worth getting an invite next year.


til next time; Semper Fi to all those with a Marine in their lives.... THANK YOU to all the Vets out there (past and present) .... and Happy 39 years to my folks.

wondering

as I sit here listening to Rhena NOT take her nap, I'm wondering if it'd be considered rude to leave my blog address on our answering machine so folks would stop calling to see if the baby has come out yet?


Having gone through this before with Rhena (she was 8 days late), I know deep down that folks are just being nice and I really do feel appreciative that all of stepford is checking in on my well-being. it's just... well...

you know that old saying about if you have to ask about how much something is, you probably can't afford it? well.. if you have to ask me if I've given birth yet, maybe it's cause I HAVEN'T, or I'm really just not that into you to let you know otherwise???

bah. sorry. I'm just being grouchy. I never got my fried chicken yesterday, so maybe that's the root of it all. Momma's gots to have the grease every now and then to keep the smile on the face, ya know.


and speaking of smiles... I have to say out loud that I'm DAMN impressed with myself for not ripping into the 2-pound box of chocolates I bought a week ago for the nursing staff at the hospital. TWO POUNDS!!!! CHOCOLATE!!!! IN MY HOUSE!!!! FOR A WEEK!!!! untouched!


yes... I am going to the hospital with a thank you gift for people I haven't met yet nor have had any services rendered from. (yet) I figure it doesn't hurt to butter up the staff that will be in control of my drugs, and how quickly I get them, though. cause you know we here at the fever are BIG supporters of not feeling childbirth.


and on the subject of not feeling..... I am in no way shape or form feeling like what I ate for lunch was enough food, so I'm about to go troll for some leftover halloween candy. there's GOT to be some hidden somewhere, even if it's just a shitty bag of m&m's......

peace out....

Thanks, but still no baby

thanks for checking in.... but nope... no baby yet.


That's fine. my 'due date' was only yesterday, so for sure we're under two weeks max now. Plus, dare I ever type this out loud... but I haven't had a full-on puke session since LAST sunday. (mind you, I'm getting up 1 -3x a night because I'm choking on the vomit in my throat....) but no hard-core puke fests in a week and a half. That's right gang... today is day TEN of no major puking!!!! How could I NOT be in a good mood?

other than that, all computer systems seem to be restored to their proper working order in the Johnson house. I even played a little Call of Duty last night on xbox live. Troy just sat and shook his head as I got obliterated by my competition.... but by my third game, I actually killed four other people. I was proud!


the weather today is one of those days where if I had the right mind, (and no child) I'd stay in bed all day. grey with a slight chill, then the occasional sun peeking through at full blast to remind you that you do indeed live in the south.... but not enough that you don't feel guilty for not being out and about basking in it. this is fried chicken weather, people..... actually, we could be having a hurricane today and I'd still think it's fried chicken weather. I just hear Bojangles calling me. (perhaps my digestive system is subconciously trying to clean itself out so I don't shit all over this next child if indeed forced to push it out???)

I dunno... nor do I want to think about it much more. I'd prefer just to focus on the fact that today is day 10 with no pukes, and in roughly or less than two weeks, we's gonna have another baby up in here. If I allow myself to actually think about the whole nature show of pain and pushing and ripping, tearing, cutting and blood and rings of fire and associated things that go hand-in-hand with child birth, I may just pass the fuck out.

so yeah... day 10, and T-minus 14 days.

sweet.

Together Again

well thank the heavens.... my pirating days are over. (my days of spelling shit wrong, are NOT, however, so feel free to continue on with the editorial comments on my typos)



anyways... we still don't have the wireless router set up, so I'm currently taking up half of the living room with wires and my belly so I can connect directly to the modem.


but despite my size... I'm feeling fast. this connection is much faster than our old service.... even though I had to wait a week to get it (grrrrrrr)

I'm curious to see if the wireless connections will be as speedy. we'll see later, I suppose.


anyways... other than that... all is the same here at the Fever. still no baby.... stilllll feeling like a bloated cow. but I ain't saying anything I haven't said the past few months, now, am I?


alrighty gang. look for me to be trolling a blog near you. I have much catching up to do!

Bandwith Pirate

ok... just checking in really quick on someone else's wireless network to let y'all know that there is still no baby.

in other news, Troy decided to switch up our internet provider et all, and accidently had them cancel our old one about a WEEK before the new one will be up and running.


(I know.... don't get me started!)



in the meantime, I will pretty much NOT be online, cause when I am, I'm breaking all sorts of rules here in stepford. In fact, I wouldn't doubt it if I get a letter from the homeownerss' association fining me for the five minutes I've just pirated.


but for now... no baby.


happy november.

The song remains the same

ahh yes. same shit, different day.

actually, I lied. It's raining today, so TECHNICALLY it's not the SAME shit.


had another appointment today. gaining weight like Mariah Carey cancels concerts (refer to MiMi's latest here...) and the cervix remains on the lock down. repeat... NO SIGN OF BABY HERE!!!!


The good news is that the doc today said they won't let me go past 2 weeks overdue, so WORST case scenario, I'll be popping this muffin out the week of thanksgiving, and won't be expected to entertain anyone. HAH!

oh well. whaddaryagonnado? Again.. I have my 'drop dead' date in my head, and although it's horrifyingly like a month away... I have to believe that if I focus on that late date, then at some point along the way, I'll be pleasantly surprised by the One Within no longer being within.

Of course, the astrologically inclined side of me is almost hoping for the late date, cause that would mean we would then have THREE saggitarians in our house, vs two sags, a virgo and a (shudder!) SCORPIO.

but in the long run a scorpio would probably be better than that later date, cause who knows who's gonna get hurt if my mom ends up staying til then. KIDDING! ok, but not really. I honestly don't know if the ole lady's knees can handle Rhena til then.


but whatever! today is friday and I have chocolate in the house. that has to count for something......

Another Quickie

aside from having the attention span of a gnat lately... I just haven't had the time to really sit still for long periods of time.


even sleeping has been sporadic, as I have to get up to pee every time the One Within decides to play "Jimmy* Crack Corn" on my bladder.


anyways... I couldn't help but notice that "Stay at Home Mom" (or even WORKING Mom, for that matter!!) didn't make it on MSN's 10 Sexy Jobs List.

imagine that!



* No, mom... the child is NOT going to be called Jimmy... though I *am* beginning to consider my MIL's suggestion of Buck. Buck is gender nuetral, right????

High and Tight

I know this phrase can mean a lot to a lot of different folks..... marine's haircut... mom jeans.... a prude at a club....


in this case I'm talking about my cervix.


just checking in real quick in between a diaper change and run to do some errands to let y'all know that there is no eminant sign of this child coming out soon. my cervix... much like a turtle.... is hard, closed, and about 50 feet up my who-hah. (-2 station for all y'all med nerds)


I'm guessing that the kid will arrive somewhere between nov 12th-15th... much to the chagrin of my Nov 7th due date. but that's just me.

feel free to bet amongst yourselves as I go change my child's shit-covered ass, then spend my husband's hard-earned money at middle-class america's crackhouse...

Unknown soldier

I am a soldier in an unknown battle, folks.


I have been very anxious lately with the shit-storm of activity that's headed my way... yet I just don't know how to prepare for it.


On one hand, I DO know a baby WILL be coming out of me... and that baby's gonna be a small helpless little thing that's going to need a LOT of attention (and milk and diapers). I'm going to be getting very little.... if any.... sleep. It's not going to be easy. but I'll do it, and I'll manage, and one day I'll wake up and that baby will be a few months or a year old, and I will catch my breath. And I take comfort that I will have a husband by my side during all aforementioned struggles, cause that's just how we roll here in Johnsonville.

but that's about all I know.


will it be a boy or a girl? when will it come? will it be a vbac or will I need to get cut open again? will it be healthy?

and then there's Rhena. .....perhaps my biggest source of strife right now.


people. I LOVE me some Rhena. I mean love love love.... makes me cry I love her so much, LOVE my baby girl.

how is SHE going to handle this new baby?

better yet... how am *I* going to handle making sure Rhena is no less loved with another body in our house?


I mean.. I know deep down it'll all work out and Rhena will be fine, and the One Within should do fairly well as well... after all, *I* am a second born, and I feel loved by MY parents.....

but will I do as good a job? I dunno.

I think that at least I'm cognizant of Rhena needing to go through an adjustment period that it should help my cause.... (I say my cause but really I mean OUR cause, cause Troy and I are definitely in this shit together) But seriously.... if I hear ONE MORE story about how someone's first-born was sweet and loving until the second one came around... I may just stick with the puking and keep this one in me forever.

I know the stories come by way of well-meaning parents of more than one child, just like all the stories I was bombarded with while pregnant with my first. When I was preggo with Rhena, it was if anyone and everyone who had given birth or known someone who had given birth was compelled to give me some horror story or another about how shit would change, the woes of no sleep, and well.... pretty much EVERYTHING.

This time around, I must say that I have really been spared a lot of stories. Maybe because I think I've perfected my "seriously, bitch... do I LOOK like I want to hear about your life???" face... or maybe the general populous figured that if I didn't figure shit out the first time through, then I ought to suffer in my stupidity?

But there has been NO MERCY in terms of people predicting my future... or rather I should say RHENA'S future in the attitude department.

For the most part, I have smiled, nodded, and then immediately disposed of any unsolicited advice, because as you know.. or at least can guess... I'm pretty good at stressing myself out. I typically need no one's help in that department.

But my Rhena. my Rhena my little baby Rhena.

I don't want her stressed. and *I'M* stressed wondering how in hell I'm going to keep HER from stressing!!!

but again. I'm fighting a battle that doesn't exist yet... nor may it ever. But as real as my need for a decaf starbuck's maple macchiato is on a daily basis... this is an issue weighing heavy in my heart.

So chalk another up to hormones (cause seriously... I don't even use syrup on pancakes cause I think the shit is N-A-S-T-Y NAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTY, and I'm guzzling these macchiatos like it's MY JOB) but I can't help but feel worried about Rhena, and excited about the new baby, then guilty for the stress it might cause Rhena, then even GUILTIER that I'm not more excited about this amazing new character about to enter Johnsonville. Add in the dose of Irish Catholic, and well... I just need another fucking macchiato.... plain and simple.

Bad Parent "to-do" List

so I believe Susie was the one who mentioned this list, but I know for damn sure I hit about like six different things this morning.


you see folks... in my last days of the 'easy' life of parenting only one child... I managed to scare the living SHIT out of my daughter this morning. why? how? you ask?


well.. WHY... cause I'm stupid stupid stupid. let me repeat. STUPID STUPID STUPID. just plain stupidity on my part......


as for the HOW...... EVERYONE and my mother has seen this website where you try to notice the differences between the pictures. and you're staring and you're looking, then WHAM... the chick from the Exorcist or some equally freaky face blares out at you while jacking your speakers up to a sonic-boom volume.

dude. don't TELL me you haven't seen it at least once. if you haven't, then I beg you to come out of that rock you're obviously living under. but I digress.


so I've seen this shit like 100 times... AT LEAST.


yet.... I clicked on it. and the starting pictures were different then ones I've seen before, so I thought maybe just maybe this really WAS a count the difference thing. (you see, I was actually just on the computer trying to order some Polish Christmas Ornaments for the Aunts up in Jersey for Christmas this year, then I was distracted waiting for the Polish site to come up, so I was just clicking through e-mails and what not...)

so OF COURSE...... in walks Rhena as the 'count the difference' website is up, and JUST as she rounds the desk to see what Mom-muh is doing on the computer... evil-bitch-face pops up and starts blaring my speakers.


I am an asshole. I am stupid stupid stupid, and my poor baby got the fishsticks-for-dinner scared right out of her.

just pencil my name on that "shitty parent but having another child" membership roster while you're at it. I know I really deserve to have a rough labor after today.... or at the very least.... get kicked out of Stepford.

Tea for Two, and Three for Me

that, of course, meaning tea for me and the One Within, and Three very good friends for me.


so I didn't touch on it yesterday, but I had a VERY lovely time at the tea thrown for me this weekend. Including myself, there were eight ladies present, and from start to finish, I honestly felt like royalty.


Everything was done "just-so" and my friends missed no details. I believe the whole setting even prevented me from cursing the entire time, too, so you KNOW I was feeling proper!


seriously, though.. it was a wonderful afternoon in which I got to spend with some very lovely women whom I've come to know over the past year and a half that I've lived here. Each one of them being there meant the world to me.

We snacked on SO many finger sandwiches and appetizer-sized quiches and spanicopita (sp?) (sp?) and there were four different kinds of home-mad scones, and greek cookies and petit fours and a healthy amount of chocolate to keep this preggo momma well-rounded. literally.

The best thing about my girls is they had about 7 different bottles of liquors and cordials on the table to mix with our teas and coffees (do these girls know me or what??) and promises were made to do this again when *I* can have my tea spiked, too.


to top it all off, some of the girls even gave me gifts.... different lotions and shampoos and a certificate for a massage and a bracelet and even more lotions. I was beyond touched by their generosity. Here's me with my hostesses... I'd be the big ole pregnant one 2nd from the right.




I can't really explain how truly lucky I feel to have made the friends I have in such a short period of time here in stepford. and to continue that train of thought... in Blog-land. I mean, I suppose you get what you look for in many ways, but I guess I wasn't aware of how I really HAVE been seeking friendship.

anyways... this post is heading hormonal in a big way, so I'll leave it at me being grateful for the friends I have made recently. whether it's e-mails, comments, or a fancy tea... I definitely feel my life is supplemented with good people.

pumpy kin

ok... now THAT'S a title that's sure to bring in the weirdos on google hits!



once again, it's monday... and here in Johnsonville, we had a good weekend. The house is nowhere near cleaned, and while I *did* get my suitcase out of the closet.. it remains unpacked.

we DID, however, go on Saturday and pick ourselves a nice group of pumpkins. Rhena had fun running around outside, and thoroughly enjoyed herself when she was in charge of pulling the wagon.

SUCH a difference from last year, and I don't mean that because I myself am LOOKING like a pumpkin these days. last year at this time, Rhena was walking, but oh-so-unsteady on her feet. she typically opted to hold on to someone's hand, or in her true princess fashion, she preferred to be carried. This year there would be none of that, because as she pointedly told me and Troy about 30 times... "I do it, Dah-yee" and "I do it, mom-muh!"

I also would like to point out that she has MUCH more hair this year, and is much more cuter than that old man named Frank that embodied my baby girl for about a year or so.

There was climbing on haystacks, and watching horses, and more running through fields and even more pictures. Rhena climbed a fence, rode on her daddy's shoulders, then got down and ran some more.

After we loaded up our loot, we headed home as Rhena serenaded us to her very own version of the "pumpy-kin pumpy-kin pumpy-kin.. hoooray!" song. my kid's got skillz, I tell you. yeah, I mean skills with a Z. after all.... she *is* my kid, after all.

It's beginning to look a lot like....

bedlam.


sheer fucking, insane BEDLAM.



seriously. there's baby shit all over the house (well, not LITERALLY... but I can see how you might think that given the nature of yesterday's post. but no... I'm talking about gender-neutral stuff that needs to be washed and put away before the One Within makes the grand arrival)

I'm FINALLY taking down all of Rhena's 2nd birthday decorations. as much as I think it's K-E-W-L cool for her to wake up every day thinking it's a party in our house.... it's time to move on. Speaking of moving on.... will someone send a memo to the big #2 balloon that it should probably stop floating by now? I mean, I love a good bargain just as much as anyone, but a balloon still floating after a month is almost creepy, doncha think?

also adding to the mix of the Festiveness de Johnson is a bunch of Halloween decorations that I finally dug out today and am trying to put out, some regular-around-the-house fall colorage I like to put up, and of course... those damn favors for the Christmas Social.

And while in most cases I've just described any given ROOM in my parents' house (I SWEAR my mom has every holiday represented in one shape or another all through the year, bless her heart) you forget that in our delicious personal mix of bedlam.... you have a zany two year old tear-assing around the house at the speed of light leaving more toys in her wake than Santa in his younger years.... only to be meagerly followed by yours-truly.... a much larger, slower, and possibly ROUNDER version of Burl Ives after a hard day narrating childrens' Christmas Specials.


it's damn messy up in here, folks... and I need a drink! (and a back rub, and someone to bring me chocolates, and maybe even while I'm at it... cook dinner, clean up, fold that laundry, and saaaay... wouldn't some apple bread be swell, too?)


oh well. like they say.. this too, shall pass. Eventually I'll get there.... hopefully before the One Within does, that is. of course... I always have my fool-proof methods of preventing that I go into labor. They worked like a charm with rhena, so I imagine I can at least keep this one at bay until I get a bag packed for the hospital. or clean off a few square inches of space so I can put it down somewhere when we get HOME from the hospital.


have a great weekend, kiddies. we'll be picking pumpkins tomorrow and I'll be having Tea on Sunday. maybe I'll just have some interesting shit to blog about next week? bets not get ahead of ourselves, though. enjoy your friday!

The Revolution of Poop

yes.. I DO mean revolution.... as in how my world revolves around poop in one shape or another these days.


If I'm not waiting for rhena to squeeze one out so she's not an ABSOLUTE bear for the day... then I'm saying a rosary or two that my ENTIRE colon doesn't come out with the latest round of popcorn-crap I'm hoping will eventually come out of me... giving me possibly just....one...extra...inch...inside.


yes... poop happens. except for when it doesn't, then all hell breaks loose.

but speaking of loose.... and hell... and poop... can I just say how NASTY a teething child's diapers can be?

actually... let's not go there. it's just about dinner time.

annnnnnd EXHALE

seriously.


I love Troy. repeat.. I love my husband.

but MAN OH MAN that motherfucker stresses me out!!!!!


so in today's episode of "Let's see how we can stress Carrie Out", we find our dashing prince asking permission to purchase tickets to a World Series game... just in case the Detroit Tigers actually make it.


the game would be in Detroit.

2 weeks before my due date.

in Detroit. (did you catch that? we live in North Carolina)


for $885.

for one ticket.



I wasn't sure if it was a trick question, or if he might have been drunk, but sure enough.. he was seriously asking permission to purchase a ticket for that much, spend yet ANOTHER $300-some dollars on plane-fare to GET to said game...... (and let's not talk ab out how much would have been spent on food and souveniers and other shit and did I mention how fucking close to my DUE DATE the game would be????)


I did what any pregnant woman would do, after I regained my ability to speak, that is.


I started crying.


not sure if the crying thing was necessary, but it DID make him feel like an asshole for bringing up the idea of skipping town so close to my due date.... and don't even get me started on the whole money thing. crackhead.


oh well. I still love him. moreso when he's not trying to go to Detroit.... but definitely still love him.

Feeling Stepford

I often joke about how it is here in the land of Stepford.... perfectly groomed lawns, families with 2.5 kids.... cookie-cutter lives with identical minivans and SAHMs that do "Southern Living" Parties for extra cash.


I do have to be honest here, though.... I have met some wonderful women here. Three of these wonderful women have taken it upon themselves to throw an afternoon tea in my (and the One Within's) honor.


I'm truly touched.


I don't want nor do I need a baby shower, and these ladies know me, and dare I say love me.. well enough to not bestow the traditional baby-showerama at me. They've simply organized an afternoon to get together with a handful of friends minus babies and husbands. They even included a special note in the invitation requesting that the guests NOT bring gifts for the baby.

These girls get me.... they really do.



Like I said... I'm just honestly very touched. Obviously, for anyone to throw any kind of gathering on my behalf is enough to make this cow be appreciative, but to do so in a manner that defies all standard laws of Stepford, well... that just warms my heart.

you say hello, and I say goodbye

hey gang...

I'm finally back in the world of working laptops, so hello again!!!

sorry I've been MIA.... playing house with rhena and the one within doesn't allow much time to sit in the office and check e-mails and blog all day. (especially with that damn ergonomic keyboard which makes me type even slower!!) having the laptop certainly helps for multi-tasking, so it would appear we're back in business.


Today, of course, is monday, so I'm super busy trying to prepare for my CCD class tonight, and keep my obsessive-compulsive-must-wash-her-hands-30-times-a-day daughter from crying because it's really difficult (and not to mention bad for her excema) to allow rhena to wash her hands 30 times a day, and still accomplish the other 1000 things that have to get done around here on a daily basis.

Troy just left for miami, which is all fine and good... cause I sure as hell would rather have him traveling now, when I still have 4 weeks left in this pregnancy, vs in about 4 weeks and I'm super cranky cause it's past my due date and the one within is showing no signs of coming out.


I *DO* want to thank everyone for the good wishes, e-mails and prayers regarding the recent sizing issue with the one within. I went last thursday for the ultrasound, and all is indeed well. Turns out the lil critter *is* measuring on the smaller side... but only the 40th percentile, so we certainly have no reason to be worried. Apparently the docs were more concerned that my fluid levels might be very low (which they're not).... WHY they didn't just tell me that in the beginning, I have no idea... but given the appointment I had had what with pee spilling everywhere and rhena screaming like a wounded banshee... I probably also forgot to ASK them why they were so concerned.

and so it goes. (or at least my sanity does, anyway.)

lots of shit to be done, including giving this blog another facelift. I'm a bit over the red and intermission-style-drug-buffet. But first... CCD class has papers to be graded and a lesson plan to be created for tonight. And of course, there's Rhena... standing outside her locked bathroom, screaming that she can't get in to wash her hands.


happy monday, kids. I'll be around to visit soon... I promise!

Three pounds forward, four weeks back

well... it's friday... and all I can say is thank goodness.


yesterday was one of those afternoons that reminds me that this pregnancy can really do a humdinger on my head... especially when the hormones are allowed to have a say in anything.


To recap... I had my 34 week appointment yesterday. I was sort of excited, cause we're heading into the final stretch, and I was enjoying the fact that I still had one more appointment left before my lower body becomes the latest exploratory region for anyone with rubber gloves.

(Call me silly.. but I've been enjoying not having to take my pants off in my enlarged state)


anyways... turns out I had to wake Rhena up from her nap so I could make it to the appointment on time. for anyone not knowing Rhena.. this in itself is a BAD IDEA. You see... Rhena... like her momma... does NOT like to be pried from sleep. when able to wake up on our own.. we can be very pleasant people. however... whomever dost wake the slumbering beast.... well, let's just say they're in for a real hell ride for the next HOUR or so.

SO if you can tell where I'm going with this... rhena was a real skootch the whole appointment. screamed and cried when I had to do my urine sample, cause.. who the hell knows ... cause we were in a bathroom??? And while I'm at it.. why on earth do doctors' offices bathrooms have such a tendency to ECHO??? I mean... seriously. most of the time if you're at a doctor's office, you're not feeling well, and add in bathroom time to that, and well, echoing is just not pretty. And rhena screaming to an echo was no fun either.

(I won't even really get into how I ended up pissing on my own hand and spilling half my sample on my thigh... I'll just let you run with that one....)

so it turns out the doctor I was scheduled to see had to go deliver a baby. This didn't bother me so much, cause I like knowing that in the back of my head that babies coming out of vaginas take precendence over scheduled appointments. but the extra time with a pissed off child waiting for another doctor to see me did not make the day go quicker, if you know what I mean.

so yadda yadda yadda... finally stuff gets rolling, and I'm happy to report that I actually gained weight this appointment. 3 pounds, to be exact. This makes my total gain to this point at 14 pounds, which is pretty good for all the puking I've been doing. so hooray! progress!


Unfortunately, the next part of my exam didn't go as well. turns out my belly is only now measuring 30 cm.... which is a whole centimeter less than I was two weeks ago, and approximately FOUR less than what I SHOULD be measuring for someone who is 34 weeks pregnant.

so basically... even though I finally gained some weight... my belly shrunk.

given my frazzled state from rhena yesterday afternoon, and the hormones that tend to run amok during pregnancy... I did not receive this news very well. I manned up as the doctor measured me no less than six times, all with a furrowed brow. I manned up when each person that came into the room muttered a concerned "only 30 cm? oh..." and even again when they told me to come back next week for an ultrasound.

I cried like a baby when I called troy on my way home, though. and when I talked to my mom once I got home.

cause you know... with all the shit I've been dealing with with the puking and the medications, and rhena being an UBER pain in the ass yesterday... I just kinda broke.


Today... I'm fine. I know in my head that things must not be at a state of emergency alarm, because they would have made me have an ultrasound like right then, or even today. The fact that it can wait a week makes me feel like this is only a precautionary measure for the One Within.

I DO maintain some quiet reservations wondering if all the anti-puke meds have anything to do with this backwards development in the baby's growth.... but right now they're still quiet. I figure there'll be plenty of time to stress next Thursday if indeed anything is majorly wrong.

and again... I'm happy about the weight gain. that's a good sign. But alas... I'd be lying to say if my heart wasn't just a teeny bit heavy with concern for the One Within.

oh well. next thursday will be here soon enough, and I'm sure Rhena will keep me busy til then. In the meantime... I'll be the one laying low, and secretly rubbing breast-enlargement cream on my belly.

have a good weekend, gang....

Body by Chex Mix

I SERIOUSLY have a problem.


it's called chex mix, and I've been eating the shit out of it like it's my JOB. I've eaten no less than three bags of the "chocolate lover's Turtle flavor" this month alone. BY MYSELF. and MOST of the time, mowing down at least half a bag in one sitting.

and you KNOW it's just naaaaaasty when I puke it up later... but here I am... chomp chomp crunch. *poof!* another bag bites the dust!


I mean, I suppose there are worse things I could be inhaling at break-neck speed... like, say.... deep fried oreos??? (which, by the way, I have never had, but my girlfriend told me she saw a sign for them and now I'm utterly intrigued by the idea......)


other than my strange and totally wrong-proportioned eating habits.. not much is shaking here. Fall TV shows have begun again, so my movie watching and book reading has declined to the point of me MAYBE reading like one chapter of a trashy easy-reading book a week. IF THAT. and netflix is surely getting their money's worth out of us now, as we MIGHT watch one movie a week. MIGHT. most of the time it's HALF a movie, and then it sits around for another three weeks til we watch the second half.

I did watch Green Street Hooligans last night, though. interesting flick... VERY graphic fight scenes. like makes-Fight-Club-look-like-a-bunch-of-pussies-sitting-around-drinking-tea kind of graphic. I was ducking and weaving and saying OOF! and OH! like the old batman shows on more than one occasion.

It got troy and I playing the 'what if' game afterwards, too. Like... "what if we're out sometime and some guy comes up to you and grabs you really hard? how would you wnat me to react?"

It lead to an interesting conversation regarding how so many women differ on their thoughts... from the "if any man even LOOKS at me funny you better kick his ass" type, to the "under NO circumstances is fighting ok" type.. to the middle road types.

I'm more in the middle of the road place. I mean, situation is everything, so it's hard to say how you'll react unless the picture is right there, but I told troy that I would expect him to remain respectful and in control at all times.... whether meaning towards me, another woman, another man.... doesn't matter. "Contain and Maintain" I believe is what I ended up labeling it. basically, I guess I feel that if a strong word can correct behavior, I see no need for punches to be thrown. but again... depends on the situation.

Of COURSE this got me thinking to Rhena, and in which case I'd say all bets are off, cause momma bear would rip some new assholes if anyone tried to hurt my baby.... but once again... situation is everything.


oh well.. I thought talking about fighting would make me less hungry, but unfortunately is hasn't.... cause Hooligans sounds like Houlihan's... which was a restaurant that I remember getting a stuffed chicken breast at once like, I dunno.. 10 years ago... and now I'm thinking about food again.


and the chex mix is gone.

oh well. at least Grey's Anatomy is on tonight. surely watching that whore-bag character Meredith hook up with the married guy again will make me lose my appetite.

one can hope.

to-MAY-to, to-MAH-to

Yeah. that's right. tomato. as in "I was just kidding when I said we would go apple-picking and make all sorts of delicious baked good for the next few days... I really meant that the orchard is run by a bunch of fuckernuts and forgot to spray so the apples were bad and by the way no one was there to run the market cause they were busy with a funeral so we had to go to a different farm 10 miles down the road and get to pick TOMATOES. Tomatoes that were mostly fallen off the vines and riddled with small gnatty bugs and covered in a deep, mushy, mud, which you would surely decide you need to stomp through and run very very fast in opposite directions from me in."


you know.. TOMATOES.


SO yeah... apple picking was a bust yesterday. and now I have us some 2 pounds of tomatoes that I have no freaking idea what to do with because all I've been thinking about for weeks is making APPLE BREAD????


something tells me that tomato bread just won't be the same.

I'm thinking I can pawn some off at Bunco tonight, but seriously... then I have to carry tomatoes to the other side of the neighborhood, and to be quite honest.. I got my fill of trying to carry a bag of tomatoes, take pictures of my darling sweet baby and quickly waddle (my version of running these days) after aforementioned sweet baby girl as she sprinted away through fields of mud, bugs, and squishy red tomatoes. I'm so over those damn tomatoes right now, I don't even want to think about cooking them tonight. yeah. tomatoes.


So in other news... life has been carrying on.


I've been happy to read other mommy-blogs lately, cause it seems there's an outbreak of two year olds being.. well.... TWO all over the place. This makes the competitive bitch in me so very happy, cause I've been feeling like a failing piece of shit lately. wait.. did I say FAILING? I mean FLAILING. hmmmph. same thing.


Rhena is a true delight, and I would never talk bad about her... at least not with anyone who doesn't have established that I love this child with every ounce of my living body and soul. but let's face it... some days are harder than others. and some times during those some days, I question if I truly could have missed the seven signs of the impending apocalypse, and what, oh WHAT did I do to deserve the personal visit from Satan?

I fancy parenting a 2 yr old to be somewhat like taking care of bi-polar patients. and I'm not trying to be cutting or sarcastic by saying that... I really do think there must be some similarities. the outbursts are unpredictable, and generally unwarranted... (well except for the basic existing conditions that she's two and cutting some bitch-ass molars, oh, and can't fully communicate what she's thinking and that's probably frustrating, and well you know... the sun is or isn't out, so that can set her off as well...)

but yeah. some days I wonder if the Johnson house is going to be one less in the census by the end of the day. And then.. hormones all askew that they are.. I begin to feel like *I'm* the shithead cause what the hell am I doing so wrong that my child clearly HATES ME SO..... and no one ELSE seems to truly believe they gave birth to a category 5 tropical storm who just so happens to also be related to some main characters in Dante's Inferno.

and then as quick as I can run to the bathroom for another good ole fashioned round of morning sickness (wait.. did I say morning sickness?? I meant ENTIRE PREGNANCY SICKNESS), my little boogie woogie can turn on a dime and be so fucking adorable I could just eat her up and I dunno... FORGET that my ears are still ringing and that last kick she delivered will probably leave a bruise?

anyways... like I said, it's good to see that there's some other kids out there that are being two for their parents, too. the more "reality" I see out there, the less likely I am to seriously consider putting The One Within back where I got it. And the less I consider THAT, my friends.. the more likely that Troy and I will remain happily married.


take care, gang...

break the seal

hey gang....


I swear I'm still here... just been slow to the take lately.


not a whole lot going on.. though I guess enough has been going on to keep me from actually getting online and posting.


My teaching CCD started last week, Rhena's been running around like a chicken.. the One Within has been getting bigger... and time just keeps a tickin'.

today we had a failed attempt at apple picking, but since this is a lame break-the-seal kind of post, I'll save today's recap for tomorrow.

right now, I'm tired.. thinking about puking, and have to get caught up on last night's episode of Flavor of Love. so tomorrow.... more tomorrow.

And then there were two

no gang.. I did not have the baby yet. relax. we still have another 7 weeks to go!



what I mean to say is... then there were two.. as in two years gone by.


Two years ago yesterday is when the monster was born. no longer an unidentified kicking object in my womb.... I had my very own living, kicking, screaming, pooping and eating baby GIRL in the world.

Hard to believe that Rhena is two years old.

hard to believe because there's times I feel as if she is 56... and I'm her staddababba counterpart as we make our way through the day... kavetching about the heat and oohing and aahing at pretty things.

hard to believe because I swear it was just yesterday that I was wondering if I'd ever even meet the right guy to marry, let alone want to raise children with him.

hard to believe cause in these past two years, I have never been so dead tired and alive at the same time.


yes... life with Boogie can do that to you.



Part of me would like to write a letter to my baby, but we all know I won't ever ever let her read this trash I spew on here... at least not until she's like 40 and starting to date. so with that in mind, I will not leave you with a long monologue of my thoughts for Rhena. I will, however... say that thanks to Rhena.. I'm no longer afraid.

Two years ago, if anyone asked me, I would have told them I was shit scared of having a girl. To me.. girls meant trouble. and emotions. and makeup and dance classes and really fucking expensive weddings.... to name a few things.

turns out I was probably just shit scared of having a BABY... cause even now when I think about it, it intimidates me.

But yet.. with Rhena... those imaginary and predestined fears never amounted to much. I mean.. sure... I still have fears.. like the idea of her starting school, and the day that will come when she won't give her mama a kiss.. or worse yet, when she becomes just like me... a staunchly independent headstrong young woman dead set on going out on her own.

But my fears of having a girl never really came about, because I didn't have a girl. I had a Rhena. and perhaps if I were a better writer I could articulate what having a Rhena is like... but the truth is... I don't want to.

Like any parent.. the relationship I have with my child is unique and quite a precious commododity. and while part of me wants to tell every damn soul about it.. another big part wants to hold and and squeeze it, and never have to share it with anyone cause I want it all for myself.

so yes.. two years ago, I had myself a Rhena, and I am no longer afraid. I'm no longer afraid, cause in the past two years, with her kisses and her hugs and her tears and her sweet sweet moments of quiet.... Rhena has showed me that no matter what happens.. she's my baby, I'm her mama, and together we can get through anything.


Here's to another wonderful year of Rhena.....

Just a drop

it may not be much.... but Boogie peed one tiny drop of pee on the big girl toilet today.


PFC.


(pretty fucking cool)



in other news, more scandal is to be had with insurance and zofran. apparently there is NO federal regulation that states that a patient can only receive X-amount of the puke-soother in Z-amount of time. My insurance are just cheap ass lying motherfuckers trying to save a dime. did I mention lying? and cheap? fuckers.


so whatever. I've been on a different med this past 2 weeks, and things started off super groovy. I actually had 9 days in a row without puking. then two days in a row of massive hurls. Then another 4 days off from puking, only to be hit up like a hungover grad student today.

yes... I puked. yes.... it was nasty. as in leftover-baklava-from-this-weekend's-greek-festival-out-my-nose nasty. told you..... nasty.

and who knew that one bite of a hotdog could produce THAT much vomit??? surely not I. well.. maybe I did, but seriously.. what normal person thinks about shit like that? wait... don't answer that.


in other news.. I put on a pair of jeans today that I used to wear after rhena was born. and they fit me. I find it slightly disturbing that what used to be a regular part of my wardrobe for about a year now currently fits a woman who is seven months pregnant. perhaps I should make a better effort after this thing comes out on getting back into shape. one that isn't santa-like, that is.


but whatever... I'll deal with that in roughly 8 weeks. right now I'm dealing with the fact that Boogie-child is turning TWO. Boogie-child-made-a-drop-of-pee-pee-on-the-big-girl-potty is turning TWO!!!!! How in hell we both made it this far I'll never know... but I'm sure glad we're still together. I really do love that kid.

more to come in the following days as I prep for the buggy-butterfly-garden-stepford-extravaganza party, and attempt to use fondant icing for the first time. oh, and you know... work on not puking and stuff.

peace out!

Remembering One

I've made mention before that i was going to take part in the 2996 movement.


This is a small effort on my part to pay tribute to one.... just ONE of the too many persons that died on September 11th five years ago.


Robert T. Twomey is dead now because of the terroist attacks on the World Trade Center.

He was 48 years old, and is survived by his wife Marie and their two sons. There was a very nice write up of him in Newsday and due to my hormonal state, I doubt I could do much better.


I can't do the justice here that Mr Twomey deserves. When I think of losing my husband, or worse, Rhena and my unborn child losing their father... I get angry. and this post shouldn't be about anger. it should be about remembering just one of the many great lives that were still on this earth on September 10, 2001.

one by one... they shall not be forgotten.

Robert Twomey is not forgotten.

Rest in peace, sir. I believe I would have liked you.

counting down

yeah.. so I've been a lame blogger lately. my bad.


anyways....

it's officially september, which means I've been in high gear getting ready for the next 3-4 months.

right now my dining room table has a mix of packages that I have yet to write thank you's for, the favors for rhena's upcoming birthday party... all the gear for me to make two very fabulous butterfly cakes (including some fondant and icing dyes) for said birthday party, favors for the christmas social, and about 6 other projects I'm also currently working on.


the belly continues to grow as the weeks begin to pass. I'm now down to nine weeks, which is a HELL of a lot better than 9 months left.



as for me personally.. I feel pretty good... just not very chatty. I think it's that nesting thing, cause I've been organizing and cleaning and THROWING things away. but in the same token.. for all that's been going on... I have nothing to say. well, other than I'm positive that this is a girl. I mean, I have no ultrasounds to prove it, but I just have that feeling it's going to be another girl.

I HAVE been enjoying Rhena... after all.. who couldn't? trust me.. it's not all roses, though. she may be one hell of a cute kid, but lately when she's pissed off... EVERYONE knows about it. her fits are somewhat akin to the lyrics from Johnny Cash's "boy named Sue" where he talks about kicking like a mule and biting like a crocodile....and those moments are definitely difficult. but like any stage.. I tell myself that this too shall pass.

here's the boogie herself in a non-about-to-turn-two-screaming-fit. like I said.. she sure as hell CAN be cute.


but really that's it. CCD is starting up again, and stepford is all abuzz with parties and baby showers and bunco and dinner invites. and me... well... I just have a lot more cleaning to do.

All is well

just wanted to post quickly to let y'all know that all is well here in Johnson-ville.


the only impact we had from the hurricane was a slightly cool front (today's high is only 75... quite the delicious temperature compared to the 90+ we've been having) oh, and a little rain yesterday. no nothing to sneeze at.


as for me personally... I am now on a new anti-nausea med, which seems to be working... as I have not officially thrown up since monday. Thanks to all for the well wishes, really. I do appreciate them all!


side effects have been putting me through the ringer, as I have experienced dead-tired drowsiness as well as restless twitchiness. this is day 3 on the med, though, so I think my body is just about getting used to it.


there are and were a lot of special days that happened this week... Troy and I celebrated our third anniversary. so weird to be saying that. part of me feels like Troy and I are old souls that have been together forever, so three years feels like nothin'. but yet... there's really times when it feels like just yesterday we were holding hands at the alter as we exchanged our vows.

but maybe that's the makings of a good marriage... that mix of old-souls and new-love? I know it works for me.


speaking of work... my brother and sister-in-law have been married for ten years today. kudos to them for making it look easy.

another good thing about today is our dear friend Liam (star and total baby heart-throb of Raising Liam) turns TWO today. Rhena's had a crush on Liam before I even knew she was a Rhena, so you know this kid is handsome.


so there you have it. birthdays, anniversaries, new drugs, and no hurricanes. all is well!


oh, and for the files of you-KNOW-I-have-to-share-this-cause-I'm-always-talking-about-it.....

I'm pooping again! not sure if it's the change in meds or the kick-ass date rolls I got in a package from one of my favorite bloggers yesterday... but I had my first non-popcorn shit since like March today.

amen, I say.. all IS well!!!!!!

Trying to be positive

ok.

I know I've bitched and moaned on here several times about the number of medications I've been having to take to keep the puking *somewhat* at bay. I REALLY don't like having to take 10 pills a day, but I REALLY don't like puking regularly even more.

well, my insurance people have decided to cut my supply of my main puke pills.... my zofran. They say that I've already hit my allotted quantity for this month, and I will not be granted another refil until September 10th.

what this means is that the TWENTY pills I was given on August 10th are to last me until September tenth. did I mention I have been prescribed to take this pill every 6-8 hours?


other interesting facts are that this pill costs an EXUBERANT amount of money, and there is no generic form of it available in the USA. I shit you not... for one refil, AFTER insurance.. I'm paying $50. ready for the sick part? if I had no insurance, this pill would be costing me approximately $1300 for twenty pills.

so BEING the cheap bitch WITH insurance that I am... I have been regulating and stretching my perscriptions out as much as I can. I often only take two or even ONE zofran a day, in hopes that I can make the bottle last a whole 14 days, versus the 5 to 7 days, if I were taking it every 6-8 hours. because in addition to this $50 a refil I pay for this pill, I'm also paying $50 a month for my prevacid, $30/month for regalin, and $45/month for my prenatal. and if you ask me, I'd rather be shelling out $100/month for zofran instead of $200. cause again.. me. cheap.

now mind you, while stretching these pills out does help in the financial realm, it ends up having a negative impact on my puking. the trick is that even when taking the full dosages, I'm still puking, rest assured. except.. when I am cutting back on the zofran, I just puke more often, and the sessions are more acidic and violent.

so now... thanks to dear ole blue cross.... I am only allowed to have 20 pills to cover a span of 30-31 days. THAT'S LESS THAN ONE PILL A DAY, GANG!!!!

can't I get a fucking BREAK?????


call me a whiney bitch if you must, and I'm fine with that. please do not mistake my frustration with all this vomiting to be any sign that I'm not appreciative of the life growing within me, either. I'm blessed.. I know I am.

but before I went on the zofran, I was puking A LOT. like 4-5x a day a lot. and it sucked, and it hurt, and poor baby Rhena had to watch me get sick and hug public toilets and curl up in a ball on our own floor from the wretching and pain.

I only have ten weeks left til I'm at my official due date. and I know I'm in the home stretch, but man oh man.... I'm tired. I'm trying to be positive.. I really am.. but I'm tired, and I just want to hold my baby already and make this puking go away. but unfortunately, the only thing going away is my access to my pills.


so forgive today's break-down. I know shit could be worse. and we all have our hardships to endure. it's just that it's hard to be positive when I know I still have at least another 10 weeks left.

Good Intentions

so I honestly think I had good intentions to blog about something interesting today. In FACT.. I distinctly remember that while cleaning my kitchen counter this morning, I had one of those "ah-HAH!!!! now THAT would be a good blog topic!!" moments.

don't ask me what in hell that topic WAS... as now that it's 5 hours later.. I have no idea.

I WILL share that I spontaneously puked this morning... Now THAT was a treat! Not!!


yeah.. This morning was such a weird experience, I can't even be pissed or upset about it.

so there I was, in the post-morning glow of some quality time with Little Einsteins... (yes, this morning was ANOTHER play of the "duck duck June" episode where we're taking a trip to bring duh-key home, bring ducky back home to his FAA-MAH-lee.... riveting story lines, gang... let me tell you)

so yeah anyways, the show's over, rhena's running around downstairs like she owns the joint, and I'm talking on the phone to my Twinkie. I take a sip of my coffee as my friend relates yet another tragic tale of what a moron his sister-in-law can be.. and all of a sudden..

HUH!

cough!

shppplegggh!


who-the-what-theFUHHH????? ....more coughing/gagging/puking ensues.

thankfully, most of it ended back into the coffee cup (thank GOD it was near empty), just a little on the coffee table, and the rest hurriedly into the toilet.


but seriously.. who DOES THAT??? I was like my own little fraternity party.. taking a shot of something nasty, thus causing me to spit it back out, thus triggering my drunken gag reflex, thus puking all over. except, well.. the coffee wasn't nasty, and I sure as hell wasn't drunk. (not saying we don't party here on monday mornings at 8:40am or anything.. but really... me in my pj's puking coffee lacks that certain 'party-girl' image I had a few years ago.)


so have I officially nominated myself as the poster-blog for birth-control yet? I'm SUCH a glamorous preggo.... I know I just make EVERYONE want to rush out and have kids.


so yeah. that's how my morning sort of started. STILL can't remember if/what I was going to say. I think it was a confession of some sorts, but honestly.. right now I got nothin'.


ok. happy monday, then....

Crapple-bagger

yeah, so it's like quarter after TEN, and I'm just now remembering to say hi and happy birthday to a few folks.


Rachie, my cousin... who will ALWAYS be older than me....


Aunt Yvonne, my Godmother.....


and my friend Diana's little boy TUCKER.




anyways... Happy birthday to them... and a very happy UN-birthday to YOU.


ps.. 4 more months til Christmas... whe-hoo!

Clap your hands everybody!

you know you're a bit off the normal path to mommyhood when you're driving in traffic and it brings you great joy to see your daughter clapping her hands in time to the beat of a metallica song.


anyways...


been busy this week.... between unpacking, getting back into a routine, and cleaning the house I feel pretty worn out. the good news is that I did manage to get SOME things off to the post office, all of rhena's birthday invites and envelopes are printed, stuffed and stamped, the new baby's christening reception has been figured out in terms of location and menu etc (still have to figure out the cake and centerpieces, invites and yeah.. HAVE the baby), ordered all the stuff for the favors for rhena's birthday party, met with and joined a new mom's morning out-slash-playgroup, and knocked off another doctor's appointment.

phew!


I think the week off from being home let shit backpile enough and me rest enough that I'm just chopping through things like wildfire. It feels good, though.... I like that feeling of accomplishment at the end of the day. helps me justify the nap I'm about to take, anyway. ;)



________

ps... "ice cuke" is how rhena says "ice cream". don't ask. this is the same kid that pronounces "chicken soup" as "pee pee puke". that's just how we roll over here.

Rugrats and Tidgets

ok, I'm just kidding.... this is not another post about my tidget. I just thought I'd throw that out there since so many of you seemed to be drawn to the word.


(you gotta admit... it's a pretty cool name given the popular ones going out there. Perhaps not exactly one for use in the porn industry, but for middle-of-the-road folks like myself who perhaps aren't as FREE with their sexuality, nor clinical with naming body parts... it has a nice tinkle to it.) (and yes, that pun WAS intended!!!)


anyways.. I said this wasn't going to be about my tidget, cause lord knows y'all are gonna hear enough about it in about 2 1/2 months or so....


no.


today is the dawning of a new era here in Johnsonville.


The Boogie slept in a big girl bed last night.


all night.


without falling out.


or waking up.


(or trying to sneak out the window to head to the party down at the neighbor's house, but I imagine this and half the other shit I just mentioned are coming soon enough....)



I just wanted to bask in the glow for a little while.


in fact.. that's what I'm gonna do. so tune in next time for your regularly scheduled bitching about backpain, a ripped contact and relatives who annoy the shit out of you by telling you that you can't possibly only have two children if this next one isn't a boy.


today.. we celebrate! ice cuke for everyone! (or at the very least... ice cuke for Rhena.. and ice CREAM for everyone else!)

Not just about hate for Nascar and Roids

you know... every once in a while, I actually do a little something called SHARING here at the Fever.


well.. I mean, I share my thoughts on stupid shit all the time, there's no question about that. but sometimes, like right about now... I get the urge to let my readers peek deep inside this cavernous brain of mine and realize what a fucked up place it can be.

Last night I was feeling particularly hormonal. call it a side effect of being a woman, or this pregnancy thing I have going on, by the chains in the brain were clinking, and gosh darn it.. I was a time bomb ready to explode.

let me back track.


when I was pregnant with Rhena, Troy and I lived in Nevada. with NO family around. no mom, dad, cousins or who-have-yous to pop by for brunch or dinner or holidays, or you know... be in a cheering section when it came time to push a baby out of my crotch.

Now believe me when I say that I am definitely not the kind of gal that wants people being in a delivery room when things inside of me are trying to come out. Sure.. I can manage peeing with the door open, and out of survival, I've become fine with crapping and puking with the door open so I can keep an ear on Rhena... but BABIES??? out of my TIDGET??? yeah.. that gets a strong round of HELL NO!

so whatever... yadda yadda yadda... no family around, so it's just me and troy and a bunch of contractions, drugs, puking, monitors and hospital staff and eventually some knives and staples to get Rhena to come out. And life was good. Troy and I brought our girl-monster home and were able to figure her out on our own, without any family telling us how wrong we were doing shit. but yet... we had no one there to help us, and we probably did everything wrong. good sides and bad sides to everything, I know, and I swear I have a point here... but remember, we're in my brain, and there's no straight lines in here.

so ANYWAYS.... last night, Troy's talking about his work situation, and for once, things seem to be going really well. the fledgling start-up he began working for 2 1/2 years ago is on the verge of potentially going big time (which could mean WE'RE on the verge of getting a really nice payoff, but we're not playing the wish-this-would-happen game). and the sorta short of it is that he says that things are going to be crazy for the next 3-4 months.


so let me tell you something. things are ALWAYS crazy with Troy's work. the hours he works in a day are freaking ridiculous. I mean, sure... he does have nights where he can relax and watch a movie or cut out early, but more often than not, I only know my husband's face with a soft soft glow of a computer screen in front of it.

but again.. I'm digressing.


so he's telling me about how crazy shit's going to get in the next couple of months, and the One Within starts kicking me. as in.. yeah, no SHIT things are gonna get crazy in the next couple of months... did you SEE the belly I have and realize that we have to throw a birthday party for a two year old, and halloween and have a BABY and the christmas social and christmas and oh yeah let's get the new kid baptized?????

so I'm a clinkity clanking in my brain about all the stuff that's going on as Troy's telling me that things are going to get crazy. if you want to have an idea of the stress and anxiety that one little statement from Troy can bring me... think Titanic, think the Captain, and think about him hearing "hey jackass... you just hit an iceberg really fast in the middle of nowhere and we're sinking".

if you're STILL not connecting the dots, let me tell you that when troy says things are going to be crazy, he'll be working from 6am-6:30pm, come home for an hour to say hi and shovel food in his mouth, then go back to work til midnight -2am for like 3 or 4 months straight. it means that plans that have been set in stone for over three months (like a trip to Washington DC) will suddenly be in jeopardy of being cancelled for lack of him being able to watch our child for more than 2 hours in a row.

now I dunno about you, but I've been keeping track, and I'm supposed to have another BABY coming out of me within the next 3 months.... right around or smack in the middle of crazy-ville.

to be fair... with my mom not going back to work this year, I do need to say that she will be coming down to Stepford for the last week or so of my pregnancy so she can be with Rhena when it's time to go produce another Johnson. I'm very happy about this, as I know no one else (save troy or myself) would be able to care for her in a way I want, and since I'm also going to need Troy by my side to calm my shit down when I attempt to give birth... la madre is the prime choice for taking care of Boogie. so I have a silver lining.

but yet... hormonal, irrational pregnant me started worrying that with the combination of his work getting crazy and my mom being here to pick up some sluff.... would my plans for having troy get me through birth be shackled by his boss (who, by the way, thinks the answer for everything is to pay for a nanny and cleaning service to make up for the husband not being around) will troy have to do a code drop instead of coming to the hospital? would his boss assume that since my mom is here in town that Troy would be at his disposal 24-7?

so... gingerly... I tell troy that while I'm totally cool with him working 20 hours a day for the next 2 1/2 months... I told him that I hope he understands that that's going to change when it's time for the baby. Now in MY mind.. I'm thinking that he should just say.. "well no DUH, you irrational hormonal pregnant girl! I'll be right by your side whenever you need me"... but I got silence. two long minutes of silence followed by "well, what the hell does THAT mean? things aren't going to magically CHANGE when the baby gets here you know"

oh boy.


three super-picker-upper papertowels full of snot later, we come to the understanding that *I* was just needing to hear that no matter how much money is dangling as a carrot in front of us with his work thing, Troy will be there for the entire birth process, and *Troy* finally understood I wasn't asking him to only work 8 hours a day or questioning his desire to be a part of this baby coming out.

the bottom line is we both feel the same way, and pretty much always HAVE felt the same way about the birthing thing, but because I asked about it, he figured maybe we DIDN'T feel the same way. but me being me... I just needed to hear it again.


you know... it's funny when I write these long posts like this... by the time I'm done typing out my long convoluted thoughts out, even *I* wonder what the hell is wrong with me... which would probably explain why I don't type out my real thought process too often. it's kinda like going from A to B but going from A to Z and all the other letters in reverse first. my brain just seems to always take the long way.

oh well. I guess my point is that the home-stretch jitters are starting to kick in. I really DO spend too much time thinking about whether or not I can really push a baby out of my tidget. and handle being a mom to two kids, and be a good wife, and be a good friend, and daughter and sister and aunt and all the other shit in between.

hearing some reassurance from Troy was what I needed last night. Of course it didn't help that afterwards we watched a movie about a disfunctional family in north carolina that featured an off-beat pregnant girl whose baby dies in childbirth..... but that's another story.