| inspired...a bit |
2 July 2008 |
Word of the Day: reify
I greatly dislike July. I've really got nothing to look forward to for months. It's hot and miserable. Maybe that's why I'm feeling a touch depressed, because it's July.
Any road, I was clicking around for kitting patterns and realized that it had been a ridiculouly long time since I had done. I found this pattern which really excited me. The only things that Patrick has on his walls are a clock and pictures of two of his cousins. I figured that once I find out the sex of child II, I could make a set for Patrick with his name and a set for the baby with its name and put them up on the walls over their respective beds. How cute would that be?
The other day, our cable box went out. I don't know how long cable boxes are supposed to last, but I think it's silly that ours only lasted from November to the end of June--seven months. Less time than it take for a baby to grow and be born. I mean, we didn't have to pay for another one, they just gave us another box, but how poorly made must that box have been for it to last only seven months? When we lived with JD's mom, we never had to switch a box, and we lived with her for a bit over two years. When we discovered it was dead, I asked JD, 'I guess that means I've been doing too much recording, eh?' He said that that really shouldn't matter, that they might just last that long. Pft, how ridiculous.
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| (3 comments) | burnination |
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| cause it's gonna keep on hanging around |
24 June 2008 |
Word of the Day: procrustean
I was thisclose to finishing a nice, full entry when Patrick came to sit on me and poked at the computer and erased the whole damn thing. So, a short and unfulfilling recap:
1. Euro 2008 is awesome and Germany is kicking ass.
2. I'm feeling more pregnant and less lumpy, we're all excited to learn the sex of the baby, and I'm also excited to start knitting for it.
3. Patrick is awesome and is growing up right in front of me...enter cute story about him having an accident in the middle of the night and him taking care of it himself.
4. Patrick's also been much better the past couple of weeks.
All right, recap done. Now on to pictures.
More than anything, Patrick looooves helping my mother clean my bathroom. I tell her not to, but she knows that he enjoys it and I think that's her motivation. He likes to spray, so he'll spray in the bathtub and clean it with a sponge. Also, he'll spray the walls and clean the walls. It's really funny because he sings his 'doing something' song--it's something he sings when he's doing pretty much anything, playing, cleaning up, building with blocks, anything.
Right before I had to leave to go to work yesterday, Patrick started to build a kickass castle. I told JD that I wanted pictures when he was done with it, and look, look how awesome it is! He's getting so creative when he's building with his blocks. I'll ask him what he's making, and he says all sorts of crazy things, a tree house, a pirate boat, a rocket ship, a horse. It's just fun to watch him.
And this morning, when I was cutting up things to throw in the crock pot for dinner:
He said he wanted to wash the dishes, and so I let him wash a few little plates, pieces of silverware, and cups. He actually did really well on his own, but I helped him along a bit. Really, I think he only wanted to wash the dishes for this:
He can't help it, he loves bubble beards.
JD told me that yesterday, Patrick was poking around in some boxes in our room when he found his little green blanket from way back when.
He was thoroughly upset because it's all stained brown in places and we were going to throw it away. He said that it was for the baby and the baby was going to be wraped in it and be nice and comfy and cozy. How could I throw it away after all of that? So, the blanket's in the washer for the new baby. I thought his concern was really amazing, and I also wanted to show off pictures of Patrick when he was a little babeh. |
| (3 comments) | burnination |
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| i said don't evah |
11 June 2008 |
Word of the Day: corvée
I've had an eventful, if sort of crappy, week. It started off when Patrick got sick last Tuesday, I believe. He went to bed with a fever and woke up a few times during the night hot and crying. I decided to sleep in his bed with him to comfort him if he needed me, and I will never do that again. He can sleep with us in our bed, but I can't sleep well in his bed. Patrick didn't act like he was sick in the morning or like he had a restless night [which he did], but I felt like crap. His fever had broken later that day, but that's when the diarrhea started, and it hasn't really stopped since then. So he's been sick all week, and I've been having to clean up poo from the floor when he doesn't make it.
This Sunday, we decided to drive around Edna, our old stomping grounds, and see how much it's changed. While we were driving, my stomach started sloshing around, and I wasn't hungry at all. Even the sight of a Taco Bell [in Edna?!] didn't even excite me like it normally does. Instead, it was sort of nauseating. So I knew I had caught whatever Patrick had, presumably some sort of stomach bug. We came back home, Patrick and JD ate lunch, and I took a nap on the couch. After I had slept enough, I got up, ate Patrick's leftovers from lunch, and relocated to the chair, thinking that would help me stay awake. It didn't, and I slept some more. I felt weak when I got up to get ready for Mass, and I had to sit down while I was brushing my teeth. After some gentle convicing from JD, I decided that I was probably too sick to go to church. After that, I laid on the couch with two blankets on top of me, shivering, sleeping off and on the rest of the evening. JD felt me and said my face didn't feel hot like I had a fever, but there was definitely something wrong with me. I slept really badly that night, even after I had moved to the bedroom, and my own diarrhea started the next day.
All day long on Monday, I was trying to decide if I was well enough to make it through work. I was scheduled to be in the office, so I thought that I could do a few things and leave a little early. I still felt weak because I hadn't eaten much and I was still sick, but if I was able to sit down and drink my water, I figured I'd be all right. When I got to work, however, it was a flipping disaster area. Our property system, the system that keeps everything for us as far as clean, dirty, or occupied rooms, reservations, check ins and outs, etc., had crashed Sunday morning. I don't know how it happened, but I read the report our tech guy wrote out and our system hadn't been backed up since February, and when it was, it was backed up to an off-property server, probably a Holiday Inn server. He reccomended for us to call them to see if they could send us the back up to start up our system again, and to buy more RAM for our own server. Needless to say, we didn't have our computers, and that evening was a disaster. I was at the desk helping figure things out from the time I got there until nine-thirty. I nearly fainted twice because I was left by myself at the desk [and the air conditioner still hasn't been fixed] with people trying to check in, the phone ringing constantly, and me not knowing what the hell was going on.
If I were at full health, I'm sure I would have enjoyed the challenge of operating the desk manually. As it was, I felt like I was going to die, and I seriously considered just leaving before I did. I didn't, thought, leave or die, but I did have to stay later than I should have to do something for the GM. It was just awful. Thankfully, I had yesterday off so that I could rest, but I'm really dreading going back to work today. I feel much better and I was actually hungry yesterday so I've been eating, but if the system's not fixed or if there's no hope in sight, I'm going to be pissed.
Like I said, yesterday I had the day off, but there really wasn't time for me to rest. I had a prenatal appointment in the morning. The nurse practitioner tried to find the baby's heartbeat and Patrick got to hold the speaker so that he'd have something to do. She couldn't find it, though, and so she ordered an ultrasound to make sure everything was all right. I was super freaked out for about five minutes, but I calmed myself down before Patrick and I met JD for lunch. Also at the appointment, I discovered that I had lost five pounds. I was like, 'Holy crap, I lost five pounds in two days?!' It's a good thing I felt much better and was able to eat yesterday.
So we all ate together and I went to the hospital to have another ultrasound by myself [no kids allowed in the testing room, which is so very not fair]. They got me in pretty quickly, and there was nothing wrong with the baby. The nurse practitioner couldn't find the heartbeat either because it's still too early, or I'm too fat. Whichever one, the ultrasound showed the little heart going at it, and I also got the see the brain, arms, legs, spine, some of my own internal organs, and I got a picture of the baby's face [which looks like an alien so it's kind of creepy] and a full body shot. I'm having issues with so many ultrasounds, but having those pictures is so awesome.
Another issue I'm having is with JD. A few weeks ago, my brand new cell phone just stopped working altogether. I gave JD permission to buy himself a new phone, whichever one he was lusting after, and I would commandeer his old phone for myself. I figured it'd be his birthday present from me, even if I didn't buy it myself. So, he bought himself an iPhone. I don't know why, but I really don't like anything with a little i in front of it, and generally I don't like phones that do fifty trillion things. Instead of thinking it's cool, I think it's lazy. Any road, that's not my beef. JD loves his phone, but it was a bit more expensive than my permission comfortably allowed. I let it pass, though, because it was for his birthday and I'm reluctantly all right with splurges every once in a while.
Around the same time, JD started looking at road bicycles because he wanted to start exercising. He wound up going to a local bike shop and finally buying a bicycle. I can't remember how much it really was, but I remember him saying he didn't want to spend more than two hundred dollars on the bike. Now, I really don't remember if I had given my express permission for him to buy the bike, but I do remember telling him that I'm all for him getting some exercise if he feels like he should. I thought he was going to save money until he had enough for the bike and then buy it, but then all of a sudden there was a bike in the back of his truck. All I could do was roll my eyes. I just wanted to tell him, 'We're having a baby by the time the year is up, and you're spending all this money while I'm trying to keep money in my bank account and also trying to save money for rent while I'm on maternity leave?' I wanted to bonk him on the head like in the V8 commercials. Honestly, I wanted to punch his happy face.
I don't know if he thought about being selfish while deciding to buy the bike or if it was an afterthought, but he did apologize for it. It still makes me angry, though, because he's had the bike for around two weeks now, I think, and he's only ridden three times. He wants me to wake him up at six in the mornings so that he can get up and ride before work, but he doesn't get up and go and I can't go back to sleep. I'm only my son's mother, so I'm not going to keep on JD or make him get up and do anything. I'm just upset that he's waking me up needlessly earlier than normal. I love my precious sleep.
Perhaps I'm overreacting, but since I'm pregnant, I don't know what's really going on or what's hormones. I just react how I react. Which sucks because, as JD likes to mention, sometimes it doesn't make any sense at all, but I figure it's better to just let it happen than try to stifle anything. |
| (3 comments) | burnination |
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| be down |
3 June 2008 |
Word of the Day: malaise
I've been harrassed kindly asked to put up pictures of things, which made me realize that I hadn't even taken pictures of anything for a while. We rearranged our living room a few weeks ago, so somewhere in the fray I misplaced my camera. Any road, here goes.
First off, Patrick. He came out of his room this morning looking like this. Not only did he have mismatched jammies on, but he had also put on the sweater I made for him. I don't know why, but he looooooves that thing.
He likes to make funny faces:
And he likes to draw:
This is something he drew a couple of days ago. It's a ghostie, he says. I think it's freaking awesome, myself, with him being only three and a bit.
This was done a few months ago outside on the back porch. I think it looks remarkably like a menos grande from Bleach, but Patrick says it's just a monster.
This was a collaboration between Patrick and me. He drew the spiral, and I drew the rest of the snail. He was upset that I was elaborating on his work, but when he saw the final product, he thought it was pretty cool.
My mom was over yesterday and she found a watermelon in our fridge. She proceeded to cut it up and feed us all, and Patrick was enthralled the whole time she was cutting up the melon. She was having a good time, too.
The boy and me. And speaking of me:
Full body shot. I had just returned from mass, which is why I was in the dress. As you can see, I don't look much different from normal. When I'm wearing work clothes, I look more lumpy than pregnant. I suppose that's becuase I still have all the belly fat I gained with Patrick, which is my fault. But it's just frustrating becuase my normal clothes aren't comfortable anymore, but I don't look pregnant enough in the maternity cothes. All right, any road, hopefully I can remember to take a picture of me in the dress every month or so to show the progress.
Last but certainly not least:
I made some French rolls! This was a couple of months ago, but they came out so pretty and tasty. I'm going to try something I've never done before tonight for dinner: I'm going to blacken some salmon, so I'm going to make the rolls becuase I know how they'll come out. If the fish doesn't come out good, we can have ham, cheese, and butter sandwiches for dinner.
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| (10 comments) | burnination |
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| don't you evah |
30 May 2008 |
Word of the Day: garrulous
There aren't that many days that are just horrible. Mostly, my days are filled with playing with and disciplining Patrick, trying to take as many five minute naps as possible, and going to work. But last Friday was a culmination of things that, even if it was all just a coincidence, was just depressing.
First off, I woke up and rolled over to get comfortable. I noticed that my fan was not on [I have a small fan running at night so that I can get to sleep--it's really quiet out here at night, and without the white noise, JD's wheezing would keep me awake]. I tried to look at the clock, but everything was black in that direction. I knew the truth, but I really didn't want to get up, get my phone, and set an alarm for JD. After tossing and turning for a few minutes, I was so hot that I had to get up anyway. I stumbled into the living room and groped around my purse to find my phone and check the time--5:30 am. After I set the alarm, I tried to lay back down in the bed, but, knowing that the air conditioner wasn't going to come on to cool me off, I just got hotter and hotter. Finally, around six, I gave up and went to the couch to try to sleep. It seemed like only a few minutes had passed when I felt a hand on my back and Patrick saying, 'Mommy, why are you in my spot?'
Time: 6:30 am.
After chiding me for being in his spot, Patrick went into the bedroom and roused JD, who was confused about the electricity situation. He got up and started moving around while I rolled over on the couch and tried desperately to get just a few minutes more of sleep. He called the electic company and heard a message about the outage--someone had driven into a pole and knocked out the power to this whole area. Thankfully, the power was back on by 7:30, so it's not like we had to suffer through the whole day without air conditioning.
After the bustle of the morning, I had a sleep deprivation headache, and Patrick must have decided it was the day to annoy Mommy the most out of the week. There's always one of those days during the week where, no matter what I say, Patrick just doesn't listen to me and will not leave me to rest. So, by the time I had to go to work, I was super grouchy. Also, I was super hungry for an Italian BMT from Subway. There just so happens to be a Subway on the corner of the highway and our road, so I stopped and Patrick and I got some sandwiches. Then, when we went back to the car, it wouldn't start.
I called JD to come and get us and proceeded to eat my sandwich and wait for him. Mind, it was nearly five in the afternoon and hardly any wind at all was in the air, so it was flipping hot. The sun was coming in on Patrick's side of the car, and he was pouring sweat. Even his little legs were dripping with huge beads of sweat. I felt so terrible because it was my selfish desire that got us stuck in a full parking lot with the sun beating down on him. When JD came, he couldn't get to the hood to jump the battery because there were cars on either side of me, so we all stuffed ourselves into the cab of JD's tiny Ford Ranger and he brought me to work.
I was already hot and sweaty, and the air conditioner in the lobby had gone out previously in the week. So it was hot behind the desk on top of me being hot. I drank a whole bottle of water and stood in front of the box fan they had up there, panting. Thankfully, I had food in me so I wasn't in danger of fainting or becoming too weak, and, after it got dark, I felt much better. When I got home that night, I just fell into bed.
A few other things that made the day sucky: I have to record LOST and watch it on Fridays, but there was no LOST that Thursday, so there was no LOST that Friday. Also, Battlestar Galactica, which airs on Fridays, was on a break as well, so there was no prospect of me being sufficiently entertained that weekend at all.
However, like I said before, all of the bad that happens usually happens all at once, so nothing else should go wrong until, I would guess, the baby's born.
Speaking of the baby, Patrick is so funny with regards to his prospective sibling. He's always wanting to kiss and hug my belly, and he sings to it and tells it secrets. I asked him if he's going to be a good big brother. He says yes. He says he's going to teach the baby Patty Cake and the ABC's, among other things. I really do hope it's a boy, because Patrick would have so much fun with a brother.
Oh, and also, today was the first day since I've been pregnant that I've vomited. Hopefully, it was just a one-time fluke and not something that my prenatal pills are going to start making me do. |
| (4 comments) | burnination |
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| short |
20 May 2008 |
Word of the Day: ramshackle
It feels like I've slept through these past two weeks. I am so ridiculously tired all the time, most of what I do during the day is lay on the couch trying to avoid Patrick jumping on me.
I had a prenatal appointment last week. Patrick and I waited around fourty-five minutes in the waiting room before I was called. There were all sorts of people and kids there, so he was sufficiently entertained. We were called, I was weighed peed in the cup, the nurse practitioner took my blood pressure, and a few minutes later I met the overseeing obstitrician, Dr. Suarez. I was very surprised because the whole time with Patrick, I didn't see an actual doctor until a couple of weeks before he was born. He introduced himself, checked my chart, asked if I had any questions, and informed me that it was still a bit too early to hear the heartbeat, and said goodbye. Instantly when he walked through the door, I liked him much better than I liked Dr. San Miguel, the obstitrician I saw for Patrick. She was really cold and non-interested, just unenthusiastic. And for someone like me, a first-time pregnancy that didn't know what on earth to expect, that was just disheartening. I was scared and she didn't really make me feel better. But Dr. Suarez, who had just come from delivering a baby [which is why we had to wait so long in the first place], was warm and sort of bubbly, even. I liked him.
I know this isn't all that much of an entry, but I feel extremely distracted. I'm going to go read Mansfield Park.
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| (2 comments) | burnination |
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| plans are futile |
6 May 2008 |
Word of the Day: veritable
So now I'm finally twenty-four. For two or three years now, I've been wanting to tell people that I was twenty-four, but now I actually am. I won't have to think about it, do some math, reconsider. So that's nice.
When I first heard about the economic stimulous checks, I was going to go straight against the government's advice of spending it all and pay down debt. Then, when we found out we were pregnant, we decided that we'd use most of it to buy furniture and things and use some of it to pay down debt. Now, I really don't know what it's going to. We'll definitely need to get furniture, clothing, etc., for the baby. We'll also need three months worth of rent so that I can take all of the maternity leave that I can, but I'm trying to save monthly for that out of my checks. JD wants to get some work done on the car, which is definitely wise, and we also want to put money towards our debt. Needless to say, that money is being quickly dispersed.
I did decide, however, to do something for myself when it comes time to. Probably at the end of the summer, in August or September, I'm going to the Woodhouse and I'm getting the Mother-to-Be package. It's a massage, a facial, and a pedicure. I told JD about it, and he said that I needed a pedicure now and always. I explained to him that they don't just clean, buff, and polish, they soak and scrub and massage and love on your feet. And I'm sure, by the end of the summer, I'm surely going to be in need of all of the aforementioned services, most specially some loving on my poor abused feet.
I have a very bad habit of putting myself sort of low on the list of priorties. So this decision is sort of amazing for me to have made. JD always tells me that I should do things for myself, so he really was happy when I told him about my plan last night. Something like this won't become a regular occurance beacuse it's just not that easy to change ones ways, but it'll be something I can look eagerly forward to when I'm six or seven months along. |
| (3 comments) | burnination |
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| two-four |
2 May 2008 |
Word of the Day: anneal
Happy birthday to me.
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| (4 comments) | burnination |
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| lonely for me |
29 April 2008 |
Word of the Day: cognizable
I went to the hospital for the ultrasound yesterday morning. Aparently, it was scheduled to better deduce the baby's age and due date. The only thing I got out of it was two fuzzy and lumpy pictures and a recheduled due date. I felt that the ultrasound was sort of unnecessary becauase I am absolutely certain of the first day of my last period, and I don't understand how measuring the baby gives any more indication of how old it is than my honest answers. Any road, now the official due date is 29 November instead of 4 December. Which certainly doesn't matter to me, since I know from experience that a baby's going to do whatever the hell it feels like doing, whenever it feels like doing it. It's like a teenager already--rebelling.
Apart from the unnecessary ultrasound, life with babeh is going quite well. I haven't had any bad morning sickness, only a few occasions of debilitating nausea without vomiting. I'm always tired, but I got used to that a while ago. I'm also always hungry, but I'm controlling how much I eat. Unfortunately, I don't eat all that much better than I did before, but that doesn't mean I can pig out and eat all the time. That's for the third trimester, heh. People have been hearing things from other people and asking me if it's true or not, so I get to impart happy news. For some reason, I always start blushing when I start talking about the pregnancy to others. I suppose I'm embarrased from the attention, which I don't like, but also because I don't really look pregnant yet. I tried on a few pieces of maternity wear that I had from Patrick and found that some of them will do still. I went and bought a few pieces as well to start my collection. I think I'll start feeling better about myself once I look pregnant and not just lumpier than normal.
Lately at work I've been feeling inconsequential. I mean, people still come to me asking for help and asking me to do things for them, but, since I'm only there during the evenings, I hardly see anyone. Sometimes when I'm working the desk on Friday evenings, the only people there are me, the bartender [if the bar's open], the dishwasher, and the live-in assistant general manager. In addition, I hardly see any guests since we're so slow, so I start feeling lonely. Sometimes I really do wish those ghosts would come and be with me just to have some company. Any road, back to the inconsequential thing. I remember a time when I was involved and somewhat enthusiastic about work even with my dislike for it. Now, however, there's nothing apart from loneliness at work. I'm not involved in decision-making, operations, anything. On the one hand, I like it a bit because no one relys on me for things like they used to. Sure, people ask for help and things, but it's never challenging or difficult for me and I'm rarely responsible for much at all. But on the other hand, it makes me seem much less important than I really am. Everyone always says that they feel much better when I'm at the desk or when I'm posting banquet tickets, but since it feels like I'm barely working, what does it matter? It seems like a mutual indifference has grown between me and work, which bothers me more than I think it should. Does that mean I really care? Really, I guess it does. |
| (3 comments) | burnination |
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