Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

As much as I'd like to blog about something interesting, something with a theme or topic, something thought-provoking and engaging, I'm just going to tell you about me.

Me and Scott and the changes taking place around here.

First, something happened two nights ago that has never happened to us before, in the two years we've been married.

We ran out of toilet paper.

This must be some kind of rite of passage or something. Into real marriage. Into parenthood. Into what the world is really like. 'People come into our lives and walk with us a mile, but then because of circumstance you run out of toilet paper.' I think that's what Mrs Balgavy REALLY was trying to say all those years ago.

Second, the cats are back temporarily. Scott's parents are in Australia for a month, so we've taken them back in for the time being. I actually really enjoy their company. I also enjoy the fact that they aren't staying. I think we've made the right decision in letting them live with their grandparents. At least for now. But they've been really sweet and not destructive, and I do so love Clementine's little sniffles.

Third, I'm starting to walk like a duck. Ok, here's a bit of good old TMI, it's just that the vaginal pressure is really hard to walk with. And when I get up out of chairs, I do it like a real preggo, with my arms pushing me up and my mid-section rising before the rest of me. And I have to hold my abdomen whenever I sneeze or cough (and it's probably an indication that I've not been doing my Kegels regularly enough that sometimes the sneezes cause minor leaks...TMI again). I feel pretty silly most of the time. But in a way, I like the duck-walk. It's another rite of passage. You're totally up the duff when you walk like a duck.

Fourth, I've decided to take control of my family's health. Dum dum dum! I say it's an effort to be that Proverbs 31 woman, but I think it's more just mummy-worry. I want my kids (and my hubby) to be healthy and strong and able to fight infections and do karate. So I've changed a few things around here. I realise that I probably will not realistically be motivated to TOTALLY change our entire lifestyle, but I can change the ingredients of our lifestyle. So I've thrown out all the crisps and crap like that (leaving a few treats), and I've started buying whole wheat everything - bread, pasta, flour, you name it. I've switched to organic cow's milk and organic anything that is in-a-jar type food (because I'm being honest with myself about my need to take baby steps, and I know I won't start making spaghetti sauce from fresh diced tomatoes and clippings from my basil plants just yet). I've started buying these Actimel things to boost our immune systems. I'm going to get Scott started on a daily vitamin supplement. (I'm on the prenatal ones.) I'm going to buy more fresh organic vegetables and fruit, and we're actually going to eat it; in fact, I actually for the first time ever finished a whole bag of apples, which I am immensely proud of! And for me personally, I'm going to stop eating chocolate that isn't organic (except for the odd occasion) for one simple reason - it's damn expensive, and if that's all I'm allowed to eat, I won't buy it very often! I bought a Green & Blacks dark chocolate and ginger bar on Tuesday, and I'm still only halfway through it. It's amazing how well this system is working for me. The organic chocolate is a lot richer and more in depth taste-wise than your run-of-the-mill chocolate bar, so instead of shovelling the chocolate down my throat, I'm actually enjoying it and getting enough, one little square at a time. And finally, this Saturday I'm going to head into Holland & Barrett and get some flax seed or oil, mineral-type stuff and a few other health food items to supplement all our meals.

Even though my house is a mess, it makes me feel good to know that I'm making a little effort to keep our insides from being one!

And fifth and finally, I'm really really really in the Christmas spirit, having spent the evening wrapping presents in beautiful silver paper and writing out Christmas cards. I want to put up the Christmas tree NOW, but Scott says no. He says I have to wait until after Thanksgiving. Which, really, I should be hugging and kissing him for, for allowing me to keep that family tradition alive in our new family, instead of carrying on this country's normal tradition of 12 days before Christmas. I mean, how sad would that be, a tree only 12 days before Christmas? What would be the freaking point? I should be happy that I get to do it in three weeks. Or is it two? Holy cow!! Christmas bells are totally almost ringing!

Also with that 10 million pounds?

I'd buy Rangers a few new forwards.

Rich and Quietly Not Famous

Earlier, it was either post about Carman or post about nutrition. I chose Carman.

Then I read someone else's blog and decided I wanted to blog about that too.

What I Would Do With 10 Million Dollars (but we'll make it pounds because we're 'British' like that - or at least 2/3s of us are and the remaining 1/3 is a permanent resident):

1. First, we'd invest it and live off the interest (and Scott points out he'd never work again). Then, with the interest:

2. Scott would buy 3 gigabytes of RAM for his computer, two new graphics cards and another computer.

3. Scott would buy Nintendo Wii.

4. Lori would buy an Apple Mac - both in laptop and mini form.

5. We'd buy two houses - one in Arkansas and one in Scotland (Glasgow, Newton Mearns). Whichever one we lived in more permanently (as the other would be the vacation home), we'd have a master bedroom, a bedroom for each kid, two guest bedrooms, a library, a games room and at least one big enormous bathroom with the toilet in the shower like the Edwards' who I used to work with.

6. Lori would buy a Mini Cooper, and Scott would get a red car.

7. Lori would hire a cleaner, a gardener (sure we have one now but THIS gardener would plant flowers), and Allison for each pregnancy.

8. Oh yeah, and my houses would be beautifully furnished Laura Ashley style.

9. We'd go on a European tour (and pay to take our closest friends) and see France, Italy, Greece, Cyprus, Spain - eh, everywhere.

10. We'd go on an Antarctic cruise with Devon and Robert.

11. We'd give a lot of money to our church.

12. We'd give money to our families (or if they'd prefer, new houses or new cars or whatever). (Gosh, it took me that long to remember to be generous.)

13. We'd fly Amanda, my brothers and their wives, my parents and Devon, Robert and Ella over here to visit. (Hmm, might need more guest rooms. Or we could just put them up in fancy hotels.)

14. We'd go see Dirty Dancing in London.

15. Lori would buy all new clothes.

16. Lori would buy Scott an XBOX 360 without him knowing it. (Lori would later regret buying Scott the XBOX 360.)

17. Lori would buy every book she's ever wanted for that library she forgot she installed in her big house.

18. We'd buy Rangers season tickets (heck, hospitality seats even).

19. We'd buy a piano and piano lessons.

20. We'd adopt a baby from an orphanage. A Chinese orphanage, probably. Or maybe a Russian one.



Or something like all that. I don't really know how much 10 million pounds is. (But if I bought everything from America in dollars, we'd be just fine!)

Confessions of a Dangerous Geek

It's time to just out with it.

I used to listen to Carman. And I thought he was good.

A Big Grumpy Blogger

Laugh if you want, but I really had no idea pregnancy was going to be like this. I just assumed with a little bit of positive attitude, I'd just sail right through it. I thought that the hard part was going to be the labour, but the rest was going to be nine glorious months of blooming marvellous.

I didn't realise I'd throw up the entire first 16 weeks.

I didn't realise from 16 weeks through 26 weeks (and counting) I'd have excruciating back pain.

I didn't realise I'd start having painful Braxton-Hicks contractions starting in the middle of my second trimester.

I didn't realise I'd be so unbelievably tired.

I just thought it was all supposed to be a walk in the park.

I mean, sure, I'd read about the 'niggles' as the books so cutely put it, I'd heard the pregnancy horror stories, but I just assumed people needed to buck up and get positive and be excited about the MIRACLE THAT IS GROWING INSIDE THEM.

Ya'll, I'm totally excited about the miracle growing inside me. It's the rest of me I'm not excited about.

I'm so tired of feeling like crap. I'm so tired of my back pain. I have absolutely had enough of it. And yet I've still got ages to go. It's so depressing, knowing I could have yet another three months of unmanageable back pain to go. Most pregnant women are afraid of labour. I'm not. I'm ready for it. I can't wait. I can't wait to push this darling child out of my body. People tell me I'll miss the bump, and I probably will, but all I can think of now is how amazing it'll feel to not be in pain any longer.

But then I start feeling guilty for feeling this way, because there are so many women who would do anything to be pregnant and here I am complaining about it. And even me, I was desperate to finally have a baby. It's all I've ever wanted. So what gives me the right to complain? And I also don't want to wish my pregnancy away, because it really is such an amazing experience, one I wish every women could have, and it's such a relatively short period of my life in which I get to experience it myself. And I don't want to say I'm ready to have this baby, because I'm not, because what if I actually did have this baby now, it would be terrible! She's not ready to be born, and I know that, so if she accidently did come now, I'd feel guilty like it was my fault for being so impatient with her!

Ok, I can detect a bit of ridiculousness in everything I'm saying. A bit of placenta-brain talking. I'm just being grouchy and complainy and frustrated. I'm tired. I don't sleep at night, and then I work all day, and then I come home and see how much needs to be done here, and it's just too much right now. I feel headachy and fevery and cold and weak and my back hurts and I'm just feeling poopy all over. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to type any of this. I just feel lousy. It'll go away. I need to eat my dinner and go to sleep. My baby's kicking my ribs (that's a new one for me) and is probably sick of me giving her the blues.

Remember Remember the Fifth of November

It was the night when some chap called Guy Fawkes attempted to blow up Parliament. The polite British commemorate his capture with bonfires, fireworks and blowing up a Guy Fawkes doll.

I love it.



bonefire.org/guy/

Middle Child Syndrome?

I am so unlike everyone in my family - in certain ways at least. If I didn't look like my mother's younger twin (but not much younger because my mom's still practically a baby), I'd think I was adopted. And if I didn't have her silliness and my dad's stubbornness and this matching lone freckle that me and my two brothers all have on our arms. If it weren't for all them genetics I'd be seriously wondering (and possibly checking the milkman's arm for a lone freckle).

Maybe it's because I'm the middle child. Maybe it's because of that stubbornness I inherited from Dad. Maybe it's because I studied the liberal arts. Or maybe I had a traumatic experience as a child that altered my sense of reality. Or it could be all those head injuries I accrued growing up (I can think of about four off the top of my head).

I'm nothing like my family in politics. My parents used to (affectionately?) dub me 'their little Democrat'. To be precise, I am not a Democrat and never have been. Neither have I ever been a Republican. I remember the first time I was old enough to vote. I had no idea that you voted for all the different local officials on the ballots too. I asked my dad how one is able to know all the issues each person on the ballot stands for. His response? 'Ya just go down the page and tick the R's.' Oh, I see, thanks!

Maybe I got that cute little nickname because I used to argue with them about the war in Afghanistan. Or maybe because I once accidentally said in front of them that Bill Clinton did a few things well. Or it might have been the fact that I didn't vote for Bush last time around. (And again, to be precise, I didn't vote for Kerry either. I actually intended to vote for the Constitutional party candidate, Michael Peroutka, but being overseas, I didn't manage to get my absentee ballot ordered in time.)

I'm also different in other, smaller, less argument-inducing ways. (I now just try to leave politics out of all conversations whenever possible.) I've also been (affectionately?) dubbed the 'little hippie'. I think this was in response to a peasant skirt I once owned when I was about 20 pounds lighter and living on cold Eureka Pizza. But it has escalated to my 'tree-hugging' and natural health and family planning ideals. And I, of course, was the weird one who moved out of the country (but it wasn't to avoid the draft, I promise!) And speaking of draft, I may be the daughter of a military man - and the sister of one too - but I'm soooo not into it. Though I will make the occasional pro-Air Force joke when surrounded by members of other branches of the armed forces (ie, The Air Force do the flying, the Army do the dying).

I must say though, in defense of my absolutely wonderful family, we all agree on one thing (with the possible exception of one of my brothers) - we're all Calvinists. At least they've got that right!

I don't say any of this to insult my family. I think I have the best family in the world. We're all very close and are there for each other. I'm totally proud of both of my brothers and think they have amazing wives, my aunts and uncles are all great and supportive and my parents did an incredible job of raising us all to feel loved, special, smart and independent. I see myself, as a mum-to-be, agreeing with a lot of my parents' parenting choices now, and I know I will look to them for guidance and advice and as role models.

It's just somewhere along the line, I realised they're all crazy. And I diverted away from the craziness. Though they'd say the exact opposite.


This post brought to you by my realisation that my pharmacist brother will probably faint if I decide not to vaccinate my children. And the need to blog something when I actually have nothing to blog about.

NaBloPoMo Block

Unfortunately what happens when one vows to post on one's blog every day for thirty days is life stops doing interesting things.

So once again, I'm falling back on the old list format.

1.

Oh my goodness I don't even have anything to list.

Ok, here's something I was thinking about today:

I'd rather suffer physical pain than go number two when someone else is in the stall next to me.

Well, it's a good thing I never actually officially signed on to this NaBloPoMo thing, because my work has now denied access to Flickr. Flickr. I mean, seriously. So since Flickr was the only way I could blog from work (because of course Blogger access is denied), I may very easily not get around to blogging every day.

It's okay, I'm not that bothered. I'll still try though.

But for now, these things must be said:
1. My back %$&#! hurts.
2. My boss is acting and speaking very favourably towards my working-from-home suggestion.
3. Saturday night is Fireworks Night.
4. Tomorrow is Friday.
5. I'm ready to put up my Christmas tree.
6. I wish I could sleep for a few weeks straight.

My Life In Gerunds

Beginning
I was under the erroneous impression that the 1st of November was Reformation Day. I was sadly mistaken. So I have missed Reformation Day. I have missed an opportunity to write a Reformation Day post. I will be frank with you - I'm okay with that. I would've had nothing to say on the subject anyway.

Working
I received this email from my boss:

Lori,
I have the Newsletter for you with some amendment suggestions,and I also have info on your working from home idea.
Regards, Colin

That was Monday. I haven't heard anything else since.
*twiddles thumbs*

Shopping
I am mostly done with my Christmas shopping. I still have a few gifts on the list yet to get, but at least I know what those gifts will be. There are only two people for whom we are completely clueless as to what to get (and those two people happen to be our mums). It's a grand feeling. The lack of additional cash in the bank account isn't a grand feeling, but knowing the advantage of not buying all of it the day before Christmas is.

Reading
I've given up on several of the books I was attempting to read. Captivating has been officially tossed by the wayside. I just can't get through it. The cringe factor is too high. The eye-rolling factor is too great. The stereotype factor is too big. I just can't do it. Vanity Fair is still very much on the list, but I haven't picked it up in weeks. I interjected The Complete Guide to Breastfeeding in the midst of my other readings and finished it quickly. I particularly loved the oh-so-80's advice on appearance and romantic evenings (think matching sweatbands and videocassette players). I'm half-way through Velvet Elvis but not progressing much. My summer issue of the Oxford American finally arrived (on the 30th October), which has interrupted the rest of my reading. Sigh. Anyway. Reading shmeading. When will I ever get the time.

Researching
My poor hubby is about ready to ducktape my mouth shut about this whole vaccinations thing. I ordered The Vaccine Guide (Randall Neustaedter) with my Amazon vouchers (more reading!). It seems the more I look into the issue, the bigger I realise the issue is. There is so much to consider. I'm only just starting to get my head around it. I've created a spreadsheet (love spreadsheets!) to help me get an initial idea of what its all about.

Here's a wee sample:


Overreacting
My midwife felt that I was becoming a bit too anxious about the baby during our appointment on Monday. She felt this because I was first talking about taking an infant CPR class in case anything ever happened to my baby and then because of my indecision on the topic of vaccinations. But in all truthfulness, I don't feel all that anxious at all. Sure, I am overwhelmed at the enormity of responsibility I am going to have as a parent (and already have as a pregnant mother), and I think I have very natural worries (what if I'm not a good mother, what if something happens to the baby, what if I get fat), but I wouldn't call myself anxious. I just want to make good choices. I want to have reasons for my choices. I want to know why I am doing the things I choose to do.

I don't want to take everything I hear as Gospel Truth. I want to think for myself. I want to think in partnership with Scott too. And the more I learn about different things, the more at peace I feel. Knowledge is power, or something.

Gestating
Schmooker is a kicking machine. She's getting bigger and bigger (duh) and so her kicks are more and more powerful. We can now see my belly move around when she moves. It's totally weird and awesome. This also means though that she is beginning her lifetime career of driving me nuts. Last night in my sleep was the first time I was aware of her movements. Luckily they didn't quite wake me up, but it's only a matter of time.

I'm also nearing the third trimester. I can't believe how time is flying! And how on the other hand I feel like I've been pregnant forever and have forever yet to go! Scott said to me last night, 'In three months we'll have a baby.' HOLY COW! I think I passed out after that.

Ending
In the spirit of internet community and good blogging (or in many cases, like mine, mediocre blogging), I think I will attempt to participate in this. I have a girlblogcrush on Kerflop, and while I don't need free hosting or anything, it might just be good for getting me to update regularly. However, you may have to read about what we had for dinner or how little sleep I'm getting, but blehwhocares.