Saturday, September 30, 2006

So Many Annoying Things.

It is 2am.

I'm awake.

I was sleeping fine until some raging heartburn decided to wake me up. Just this evening I was telling Scott's auntie that I've been lucky (no, I even used the Christianese version of the word, 'blessed') not to have had any heartburn so far in this pregnancy, at least not any that has bothered me. Then the 1am reflux reared its ugly head.

Scott brought me some dry biscuits, but they've only helped minimally. I tried to go back to sleep, but once I'm awake, all these thoughts hit me. I realised I still needed to sign a contract for my independent midwife with Scott as my witness. I wasn't sure where it was, and I meet with Allison again on Monday, so I trudged down the stairs to look for it. I found it, signed it and started to head back up the stairs when my buttbone flared up again.

Yes, my buttbone.

Since the start of the second trimester, I started noticing a pain in the right side of my ass. It's gradually getting worse. Now, it's nearly constant, flaring up when I either stand up, recross my legs or stand on one foot (which we all do fairly often - hello, pulling on underwear). I've not said anything much about it, besides complaining when it hurts, but now that it's gotten so annoying (and painful) I'm glad I see Allison tomorrow because I'm gonna bring it up. It's sort of like the cross between a bruised tailbone - on the right side - and a leg cramp in my butt - on the right side. It's a pain in the ass - ha, no pun intended. (Though it works pretty well as a pun, doesn't it!)

So now, I've got heartburn and butt pain, and I'm sitting up at what is now 2.07 in my rocking chair looking up 'bone pain in pregnancy'. And it has added to my suspician that this might be an early sign of SPD (Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction). I bet doctors just LOVE the internet - patients can diagnose themselves! Takes all the work out of medical examination, this clever internet thing.

But no really, 'unfortunately, since the pelvis is a ring, if it opens here, it must pinch there. The sacroiliac joints in your lower back to either side of the midline can hurt when this pubic bone separation happens'. So there you have it.

Anyway, this sucks because I've got church in just a few hours (ok, 8 and a half), and I'd really like some sleep. But until this acid in my esophogus chills out, I don't see that happening any time soon.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

So Many Exciting Things!


Wow, I've got so many things going on that I'm dying to write about, but I'm not kidding when I say I have no time!

So first things first -

Yes! That is our baby over there, staring upwards (at my lungs perhaps?) being a very good little....

Girl!

Yes, the fetus has girly bits, which we could see on the ultra-awesome ultrasound, so we are very certain Schmooker is a She!

But don't bother asking us what we're going to name her - that's for us to know and you to find out!

I've ended every sentence so far with an exclamation mark!

Because we're so excited!

Scott keeps calling her his little princess! It's really cute! I can't stop using exclamation marks now! Not once I've started! It would disappoint you all!

More to come: Our anniversary trip, complete with pictures (all appropriate, we promise!) And! Nappy talk! Because I just purchased a few different kinds of cloth nappies, and I'm looking forward to filling them with water to check the absorbency and throwing them in the wash to inspect drying time! More to come! Oh my gosh I hate exclamation marks!

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Blogging From Work


I've been holding off on posting for a few days because Scott kept promising he'd blog about our anniversary date, but have you seen a Scott-post yet? Yeah, me neither. So I'll take the initiative.

No, I didn't wear the dress in the picture posted here. These pictures were uploaded by Amanda, who's camera I used at Devon's wedding back in March. This is the first time I've gotten to see these pictures since they were taken. I'm so pleased to see them now. Go check them out.

But back to my date.

I actually did try to wear this dress for our special date, but the bulging uterus was just too unattractive (and uncomfortable) in such a slim dress. I then put on a pretty, stretchy black dress with black heels, but before we walked out of the house I decided I hated how I looked and felt way too dressy and ended up in a pair of black trousers and a maternity shirt. Ahh. Scott did get his way in that I didn't wear my hair up, even though it hadn't been straightened, so basically I looked like I'd just gotten home from work (considering that outfit had been precisely what I did wear to work, the look was quite accurate). Scott wore a pair of hunky jeans (that make his bum look AWESOME) and a dress shirt.

We found parking right outside the restaurant - the restaurant of my dreams, Thai Siam. We had reservations for 7 o'clock, though they had written us in for 8. No bother, they had a table open anyway. So we were seated at a lovely table with candles and all that pretty stuff. But who cares about tablecloths, let's get to the interesting bit:

The food.

We ordered three starters: Poh Pia Pak (vegetable spring rolls), Gai Hor Bai-Toey (Chicken Padanas Leaves) and Tom Kha Gai (Chicken and coconut soup). They were all simply fantastic. Particularly the soup, I think we'd both agree. The chicken wrapped in Padanas leaves was good, though we couldn't figure out if we were supposed to eat the leaves or not (we didn't).

Then we had our main courses. I chose the Panang Tao-Hoo (Tofu cooked in red curry paste, coconut milk and fresh lime leaves), and Scott had the Gang Phed Nor-Mai (Red Curry) with chicken. Both were absolutely delicious. Scott also ordered a Thai beer, which I desperately wanted a sip of - so I took a sip and mmm it was good. I miss beer. I miss drinking in general. But let's not dwell.

The great thing about Thai food is, no matter how much you eat, you never feel sick afterwards. We were definitely stuffed after all that (glorious! beautiful! delightful!) food, but we decided we could manage splitting a dessert. We went with the Thai Siam Bombe (deep fried ice cream)....

Deep fried ice cream

It did not disappoint.

I wish I'd taken a picture of the other food (particularly the starters), but I was feeling a bit too shy at that point with all the people around. By dessert, though, the place was clearing out, so we managed a shot.

The dessert fully topped us off, and we went home happy and satisfied. And a lot more broke, but it was so worth it. So worth it, I dreamed about it last night.

Tomorrow we head off for a weekend in Inverary. It's basically going to be our first wee trip since we got married that hasn't been arranged around someone's wedding. We've not gone on a single holiday together that was planned just for us. Our passports are with the Home Office right now, so we couldn't take any lovely Greece or France trips (because you know, those don't cost money, either), but our weekend in Inverary will be simply lovely anyway. We get dinner, bed and breakfast both nights of our stay and a 'wee dram' both nights as well. Which means Scott gets two wee drams each night. Bleh. Who says whisky is bad for pregnant women? I think it's a lie. (I wish it were a lie!)

Man, I miss drinking.

... and that's what annivesaries are supposed to be all about right? Alcohol?

Monday, September 18, 2006

Dear Scott,


Five years ago, you were a tiresome seventeen year old boy and I was a bossy nineteen year old TMI leader, and we had nothing in common. But God had a plan that we knew nothing about. He put it into motion that rainy summer in 2001.

Three years ago, you were an easy-going, fun-loving and cute nineteen year old with a growing interest in God and a seriousness of mind unusual for your age. I enjoyed spending time with you and knew I'd found a friend worth keeping. We had much in common, and I couldn't stop thinking about you. My affection for you grew quickly, and I was so pleased to realise you cared about me too.

Two and a half years ago, you told me you loved me for the first time. It was awkward for you, and you didn't know how I'd respond. I was worried, because I loved you too but didn't know how much you meant by that. You clarified it for me on that beautiful walk through the wooded path that you loved me properly - and wanted to marry me. Later you gave me a ring to seal the deal as we walked together alone by the river. You jumbled up your words, but your speech couldn't have been more perfect.

Two years ago today, you stood at the front of the church and waited for me. I walked down the aisle with my daddy, feeling the happiest I'd ever felt, my glowing eyes glued to you. You promised to love me and cherish me until death parted us. I promised you I'd love you the same. We were there joined as one forever.

One year ago, we celebrated our first anniversary. We'd endured loud arguments and personality clashes, hurt feelings and bad communication, with lots of laughter, moments of tenderness and a huge helping of God's grace. I'd never known how happy I could be.

Five months ago, our baby was formed in my body. Life took on a deeper dimension for us. Joy like we'd never experienced crept into our marriage and continues to grow, to an extent I imagine we will never fully realise. I'm so happy that you are the person I get to share this journey with. There is no one in the world who'd make a better father to our soon-to-arrive child. There is no one in the world who'd make a better husband for me.

Today, we celebrate two unbelievable years of marriage. We expect many, many more, but if God were to take one of us home sooner than we imagine, I will be thankful just for the time we've had together. You've done your best to make each day of our lives together meaningful, and I've loved you each day, even the ones filled with yelling, crying and hurtful words. Not one day have I wished you out of my life. You have shown me wonderful and horrible things about myself; for this, I cannot thank you enough. You've made me feel beautiful. You've made me feel interesting. You've made me feel like someone special.

Little did I know as my dad walked me down the aisle that two years later I'd be happier than I was at that moment, day after day after day.

I am more in love with you than I knew possible. As the years pass by, I'll love you more and more. With God's loving grace pouring into our lives, I can say that with confidence. May I always love you even more than I do today.

Love,
your wife x

Sunday, September 17, 2006

The Day My Brain Puked

So I woke up bright and early on Saturday, full of vigour and raring to go. I threw on some clothes, put my hair in a ponytail and hit the shops by 9.00. Shopping on Saturday morning is great, if you can get there before the masses. 9.00 is definitely before the masses. I easily found a parking spot at Tesco where I would buy groceries for the week (grocery list and all! Planned meals written on the side!). I also needed to go into the town centre for some other shopping, though, which I decided to do first, since I wasn't sure how long it would take and didn't want any food to spoil in the car. So I wandered around WHSmith and Woolworth's, hoping to find a box set of Scrubs, any season. I had no luck, but I did find seasons 1 and 2 of That 70's Show for half-off, so I took them both (totalling £26!) to the checkout.

Brain Puke #1. My debit card was missing.

I searched frantically through all the slots in my purse, and then my handbag, hoping I'd just placed it somewhere stupid, but it was not to be found before the guy asked for payment. Red-faced I had to admit I'd lost my card and wouldn't be able to pay. He offered to hold them for me for the day in case I found it. I thanked him and promptly left the store, feeling like a little criminal. (Why a criminal? I don't know, but if you've been there, you may recognise the feeling.)

I got back in my car, re-searched my bag, but the card was nowhere. So at 9.45 I had to drive back to my house, hoping and praying the card was some trouser pockets or my coat.

It was in neither. After Scott gave me a small row about responsibility (in all fairness, he was quite nice about it. I deserved worse.), we called up the bank and cancelled my card. Scott then graciously gave me his, and I went back into town.

Luckily, by around 10.30, though the parking lot was much more crowded, I still found a spot quite quickly. I went back to Woolworth's, bought my DVDs (shamefacedly, of course, and with cash because I didn't want the guy to ask if I'd found my card and I'd have to lie and say yes and then if he looked at the card, he's see Scott's name and know I was a liar, and basically I hate lying, so cash), then headed off to start my grocery shopping.

I stuck to my list to the letter. I think I only bought one thing that wasn't on it, and that was toilet paper. I was proud of myself. I pushed the cart out to my car and started filling it with bags of carrots, potatoes and broccoli. But my stupid handbag kept slipping off my shoulders every time I leaned in to set down a bag. So I threw it onto the driver's seat and finished my unloading.

Brain Puke #2. I locked the passenger side door and slammed it shut. Mid-slam I realised.

'NO!' I shouted out loud. I then fell back against the car and covered my face. 'Do. Not. Cry.' I told myself. 'Think. Logically.' Ok, I could call a cab and go home and get Scott's keys. But my phone is locked in the car. Ok, I could use a payphone. But my money is locked in the car. Ok, I will walk to my in-laws house and get a lift home. But what if they aren't home? Well, then, if they aren't home, I'll sit on the steps and cry. So off I trudged.

Luckily, their house is a very walkable distance from Tesco. I rang the doorbell, my heart pounding and the tears welling up in my eyes. Nothing. I rang the doorbell again. Nothing. Time to sit on the stairs and commence crying. I sat down, the tears started flowing... and the door opened. My father-in-law stood there in a bathrobe.

Well, at this point, I lost it. What a stupid day I was having! Andy made me a cup of tea, and I called Scott, half-crying, half-laughing. You see, through all this, I could still see the humour. I mean, how totally stereotypically pregnant was I being? Forgetful, distracted, losing things, crying uncontrollably, laughing while crying. Andy left me to my tea (and Marion arrived to keep me company) and went to go get Scott and his keys to go get my car from the Tesco parking lot.

I felt, with all my stupidity, it would be best to then just stay in the rest of the day and watch That 70's Show. And that's precisely what I did.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Another List

I know, I know, boring boring boring, but hey.

1. I really truly was gonna do this whole serious post entitled 'May You Be Covered in the Dust of Your Rabbi' about the most interesting Biblical history I learned this week, but a) I don't really have much to say on it other than just sharing it with you and b) I'm totally tired and can't think. So maybe soon, because really, it's totally interesting what I learned.

2. I finished the magazine at work. It feels great. But it's not really finished because once the proof comes back, it'll be change change edit change, and that'll suck. But it's done for now...ish.

3. My. Back. Is. So. Sore.

4. We bought The Weather Man tonight on DVD. I really wanted another season of Scrubs, but we couldn't find it anywhere (anywhere being Tesco and Blockbuster). So we'll watch that tonight instead. Which is fine 'cause we like this movie.

5. I'm making chilli for dinner. Scrum-diddly-upmscious.

6. Schmooker is an absolute acrobat. I can feel the wee sprog all day long. It's nice, but it also makes me a little seasick.

7. Yesterday I left work a teeny bit early because my. back. was. so. sore. I intended to come home, take a hot bath and then nap. Instead? I rearranged the furniture in my bedroom. And cleaned. It's probably the cleanest it's ever been, and for the longest amount of time. But now that my bed faces the window (kinda), I am disgustingly aware of mildew growing on the window pane. I know what I'll be doing this weekend.

8. We bought a chest of drawers for the baby room. It's half built at this point. We'll try to finish it tonight. Lynda at work has given me TONNES [time to start spelling that like a Brit] of babygros and vests and cardigans and socks and scratch mittens and bibs and muslin squares and OH MY GOODNESS THE BABY STUFF IS COMING OUT MY EARS. So I want to try to put everything away in drawers. [PLEASE NOTE: I am in positively NO way complaining about all the free baby stuff. It's great! I can waste spend all my hard-earned money on frilly dresses or boring cute boy shirts instead!]

9. Our 20 week scan is a week Monday. I hope Schmooker gives us a proper flash so we can determine his/her sex. Oh and this coming Monday? Scott and I will be two years married. More on that to come, yes.

10. Next week I intend to approach my boss about the possibility of working from home after Schmooker arrives. I'd appreciate any prayers you feel inclined to pray on my behalf. The fact is, I can't just stop working because we need the money. But not in a 'Oh No, I Won't Be Able To Afford A New Handbag' sort of way but a 'Oh No, Our Electricity Has Been Turned Off But What Does It Matter Now That We're Getting Evicted?' sort of way. So I'm desperately hoping my boss will be open to the idea. Basically, in terms of working and being a mum, I break it down like this (and dudes, NOTE: This is how I break it down FOR ME. FOR ME, not anyone else, so please don't get all hate on me):
In order of baddest to goodest-
Being a
-Work Away From Home Mum
-Work From Home Mum
-Stay At Home Mum

Basically, working away from home would be hellish torture and staying at home and just being Mummy would be all my maternal heart has ever wanted. But I'll happily compromise with the middle one. So I'm hoping and praying my boss will consider the option.

The End.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Items of Note

1. Spiders DO fly. I don't care what Scott says. And one flew at me while I was driving today, and I nearly wrecked the car. I sound calm now, but if you'd been in the car with me going 70 down the motorway - you wouldn't think me so calm. I'm just glad it was a teeny tiny one and not a big black one. I most certainly would've swerved into the Clyde if that had been the case.

2. Okra IS available in Scotland! My sis-in-law said you could get okra in Tesco, but I looked and didn't see anything of the sort and just figured she was crazy, but lo and behold, they DO sell okra and she ISN'T crazy! It's imported from Jordan and comes in teeny packages of about ten stalks (or whatever they are called). I made fried okra using a package of cornbread mix as my cornmeal (which I'm seriously certain you CAN'T get here), and it was GOOOOOOOD.

3. I'm 18 weeks pregnant, but I still just look like I've only eaten a few too many cookies (which I have) but if I pooch my tummy out, I kinda do look pretty preg.

4. Schmooker is a total bouncy baby! I felt Schmooker once a little while ago, but I didn't feel him/her again until Saturday (or at least I didn't notice it or passed it off as gas, which also plagues me these days - sorry if you've had to suffer being around me at all). And boy, Saturday, Schmooker was HYPER! I was simply lying in a warm bath when suddenly I felt some gurgles in my belly, which I at first dismissed as the water bubbling around me until I realised the water wasn't bubbling around me, so I waited quietly and still for a few moments until I felt it again. And again! I lay in the bath for about 30 minutes not moving just waiting for Schmooker to make some moves, and Schmooker did not disappoint! I loved just lying there, pressing on my tummy and waiting a few seconds for Schmooker to protest. It was amazing! Sleeping Saturday night was nearly impossible! Then I felt Schmooker a bit more last night as I tried to sleep and today at work I'd get the odd movement which just sent happy shivers all down my spine. It's unbelievable! There's a freakin' baby in there!

5. My mum-in-law bought me some maternity clothes out of Marks & Spencer and informed me of a sale going on. So Scott and I stopped in on Sunday to check it out. They were out of nearly everything, BUT they did have one last pair of maternity jeans hanging on a lonesome rack which happened to be my size and - get this - only £5! So, I'm doing well in the maternity jeans department. (Four pairs! Goodness!)

6. Apparently, uteruses (uteri?) start Braxton Hicks contractions early on in pregnancy but aren't able to be felt until the middle of your second trimester. I learned this on some website yesterday and found this particularly interesting simply because at Sunday School I'd been running around with the kids playing some running-around game when I felt my tummy sort of cramp. I told Scott it felt like mild period pain, which didn't actually hurt, just sort of felt uncomfortable so I stopped running around. I thought maybe I'd just pulled something, til I read this on my daily pregnancy calendar about Braxton Hicks. So I'm wondering now if that's the tightness I've started feeling every now and then around my middle. So many interesting things! I really feel I'm in the thick of it all now. This is so much more interesting than throwing up all the time! I love being pregnant! (I know, I know, that'll pass, I don't need any mummy nay-sayers!)

7. The Happy Husband has some exciting news of his own. Go check it out!

8. Finally, I've been intending to write something a bit more in-depth than just baby/pregnancy/baking/blahblahblah, and I really do have some intelligent thoughts going through my head (or at least partiallly intelligent), but I guess I'll have to save them for another day. I mean, a spider flew at me and okra and fluttering fetuses! I had to say those things first!

Deep thoughts coming soon to a blog near you (but not necessarily near me so don't get your hopes up too high).

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Friday, September 08, 2006

Food, Glorious Food!

My astronomically long pregnancy-induced hiatus from the kitchen is so over with a vengeance. I have spent the last three or four days just happily browsing through my cookbooks and bookmarking recipes I intend to make - like, sometime this week.

Part of the problem is that my regular lunch parnter Jamie has been on lunch hiatus for an astronomically long work-induced time, and so I've been spending my lunch hours with Carol, who is great company but doesn't eat out (she's one of these healthy vegetarian bring-a-sandwich-and-yogurt-to-work types), so we spend our time wandering around Mothercare (hurray!) and Morrisons (grocery store?) and for some reason we've both gotten into a baking craze and just walk around the baking aisle thinking of things to bake when we get home.

On my list of baking To-Dos are peppermint pinwheel sugar cookies, chocolate covered cherries and strawberries, chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter balls and fudge. And maybe some Aztec brownies and shortbread.

I'm so interested in making these things, but so aware of the fact that I can't or wouldn't even want to eat them all, that I've been trying to think of people I could invite over for a Candy Eating Party, but I realise that the truth is, no girl is going to actually go to a party called a Candy Eating Party because it's just too open and honest about what would be going on - something like a swinger party maybe - to be justified. They'd all say, 'Oh, I shouldn't I'm trying to be good' when you know darn well that they're just - okay, they're right, it would be a horrible idea, but maybe if I called it a 'Popcorn and Movie Party' and then just served loads of cakes and candies I could get away with it. Hmmm... I have some popcorn...

Caramel popcorn balls! Rice Krispie treats! Oooooh yum!

(I suppose not all of the above-mentioned falls directly into the 'baking' category, but it's definitely kitchen-based.)

I'll just have to satiate myself with making an Evil Jungle Prince with Thai noodles for dinner tomorrow night and those no-bake cookies that I promised to bring to The Haven* Open Day tomorrow afternoon.






*The Haven is Kilmacolm's 'Teen Challenge' even though it's not officially part of Teen Challenge, but it is still a Christian drug rehabilitation centre which our church is heavily involved in.

Monday, September 04, 2006

For £6, You'd Expect Better Photo Quality....


There you have it. The photo I promised you. I know I don't usually come through on my blogmises, but here you go.

As a sidenote - do my new Blogger comments not work, or have we simply been abandoned?



[EDIT: Apparently, the comments are NOT working, so good, we haven't been abandoned. But it's looking like our blog is destined to have Haloscan comments so I'm going back AGAIN. One day we'll leave Blogger, but until I have that kind of time, we're stuck.]