I guess everyone saw the pics of Reeve's nursery on FB. I got a lot of really sweet comments, and I have to add that I couldn't have made it look so nice without the help from my family and friends. I'm so grateful for all the sweet people in our lives. Now all we need to make his nursery complete is his little self to make an appearance, BUT I'm not rushing him:) He needs to just hang out where he is a little longer and come when he wants.
Derick left for work a little before seven this morning (I think), and I had to get out of bed to put Paris back in bed. It's a weird issue to explain, but it happens every morning, pretty much. So once we were both back in bed, I decided I'd just rest my eyes for a few minutes then get up and start on the house work. Around 9:30, I woke up and looked at the clock and nearly freaked out! I didn't realize I was asleep, and it was super weird to just wake up nearly three hours later. So, after a late start on the day, I've fed and walked the dog and the husband (ok, I just fed him, but it would be nice had he taken a walk with us), cleaned the kitchen and the floors, and now I'm trying to muster the energy to make the bed and put clothes away. I so hate laundry. I know everyone does, and I really think a smart invention would be a washer/dryer in one. The fold option isn't necessary because most of the time I don't even fold it until I'm in the process of putting it all away. But, dang it, it would be nice to not have to practically crawl into the washer to get the clothes out. Life is just so hard, I know.
I'm kinda weird with music, as most of you already know, and the further I get in this pregnancy, the less tolerant I've become of music. Even music that I love. It doesn't get on my nerves or anything, it just makes me super emotional and a lot of times sad, so I've stopped being such an avid listener. WEIRD, I know. I haven't had an emotional pregnancy at all, compared to most I've heard about, so I guess my nature just tells me to block out things that cause an emotional flood. It'd be nice if that's always been in my nature.
Anyway, I of course haven't shut out music altogether. I can't do that. My dad can. He could go years without the desire to hear one song. My dad is something else. Today, I started listening to my old friend Joshua Radin on Pandora, and I just wasn't feeling it. Have you heard his music YET? I've been raving for a while. I guess that's because during a pretty rough patch last year, his music was a comfort. Today, though, I just wasn't in the mood for ultra mellow singer/songwriter tunes. Thus, I started listening to 90s Pop. I've never really let go of that genre of music. While a lot of people I knew seemed to follow the trend of popular music, I always kinda stuck with the 90s. I still listen to Hanson to this day. Duh.
90s kids, we were truly blessed with the best music. Aside from Hanson, so many great bands and musicians shared their goodness with the world during those years. Maybe I feel that way because every one of these dang Pandora songs bring me back to very specific moments in my life. Derick makes fun of me because of my peculiar memory. I can remember an exact outfit from 15 years ago, at a specific place, at a specific time. I can remember what I had for lunch on certain, unimportant days in junior high. I can remember what each grade smelled like. 8th grade, for example, was Gummy Bears perfume and Clinique foundation. But ask me to remember what the insurance lady on the phone just told me two seconds ago regarding an important aspect of our coverage, and I'm clueless.
I think music is a good reminder that our lives aren't really as bad as they seem. My teenage years, at the time, were poop, but looking back and hearing Third Eye Blind and Smashing Pumpkins, they were some of the coolest days of my life. Even memories of more recent years that seemed pretty black are a little more illuminated when there's a song on by The Kooks.
I won't retrace my footsteps and get all music-snooty. We all have our preferences, and that's respectable. But I just look at the tender, teenage generation of today and wanna say, "bless your hearts," because instead of Bush, Backstreet Boys, and Semi Sonic, they get Nicki Minaj and someone named "Weezy?" Haha. To each his own, but you're welcome, Nathan Smith. You're one of the lucky ones with a cool aunt who recognizes and introduced you to good music.
I just went through and deleted a very hilarious, self-constructed lyric comparison between Nicki Minaj and Britney Spears, for fear that a Nicki fan (or Nicki herself) might happen upon this blog and opt to kill me. Maybe next time! Happy Wed!
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Monday, July 23, 2012
muunnndayyy
I have a lot to do today. With that said, I'd like this post to be ultra short, however we all know how rambly I get, so we'll just see about that. I had a dentist appointment this morning, and it went well. They told me I have beautiful teeth, which I rarely hear from the dentist. Strange, I know, because I've been an avid patient since I was a tyke, but they always seem to find some kind of something wrong with my teeth. I have about thirty billion fillings, and I've dealt with probably every issue you can think of when it comes to dental stuff. I'm really big on brushing and flossing--just ask Derick. I drive him a little crazy making sure he brushes as he should. My friend Kelsey is a hygienist (very weird word to spell), and she told me that a lot of times cavity-prone teeth have less to do with hygiene and a little more to do with genetics. I've got some good genes, let me tell you. (Sorry Reeve).
Anyway, after my dentist appointment, I registered Parisann on base (she's now completely legal!) and came home and crashed. Ok, so I threw apple pie ingredients into the crockpot first, but after that I crashed. I'm not sure what is going on with my body lately. Umm duh, it's pregnant. But I am just so dang sleepy. I got plenty of sleep last night, even after waking up from a dream that Derick and I killed a man in a fancy hotel room and hid the body, only to find out the man was actually just a Muppet.
I don't mean to brag, but I really have been doing a lot, considering "my condition." Derick has nicknamed me, "Nester" because I'm pretty OCD about Reeve's room and his stuff and our house in general. He keeps saying we have plenty of time to get it all done, and I argue that he can't be so sure about that, especially since my due date seems to be a little earlier than first expected. I just like/want to have things in order, instead of waiting until the last minute and then forgetting something important. Plus, while I have the energy (somewhat), why not get it done? One day very soon, I'm pretty sure my energy will be completely zapped--never, ever to return again. I've been after Derick for a few days to get Reeve's carseat installed. He has two bases, one for each car, and yesterday I told Derick I would be happy if he could just get one in the Kia, since that's our nicer car and the one I use the most. Plus, the Ford has crap air conditioning right now, which is another blog post. Anyway, I knew Derick wasn't feeling keen on the installation, but after about six episodes of Biggest Loser yesterday, I finally coaxed him into the garage to get that seat latched down. Apparently, this isn't an easy task. Maybe it's because our carseat is European and all those foreigners are very unfamiliar with our fast-paced, easy-as-possible society, but Derick struggled with that seat for over half an hour. Once in place, he had me check it, and unfortunately, I didn't really like the idea of the carseat being really close to the back of the passenger seat. I like to lean back like a gangster when I ride anyway, so it wasn't really working that the seat was in an uncomfortable, grandma-like, upright position.
I backed the car out of the garage, which Derick thought was stupid at first. He realized how smart his wife is once I rolled the windows down and fresh air was able to circulate through the car. Drenched in sweat from his time in the garage, Derick moved the seat to the middle and secured it very nicely. I'm proud of him.
So if for some reason Reeve decides to come earlier than expected, the carseat is ready. Half my bag is packed, but I still need to invest in a nightgown, apparently. I also need to write a birth plan and find Reeve a coming home outfit. He already has a couple cute outfits we're going to take for pics in the hospital.
As far as his room goes, everything is basically in order. Some stuff still needs to be hung, but other than that, it's ready. Now, I guess we just wait, which is not easy for me, and I'm pretty sure Derick is a little uncharacteristically anxious as well. I'm pretty sure Reeve is content where he is right now, although last night, I was *trying* to get off the couch, and I guess he recognized my struggle. As I rolled over, a giant mound formed on my belly. I get these little mounds a lot. I guess it's just the way he likes to lay: booty in the air. But last night's mound was anything but little. I pointed it out to Derick, whose eyes became equally as large. We couldn't believe it! Derick said, "Reeve, you're trying to come out the wrong end," and he patted his little butt ever so sweetly. Reeve slowly burrowed his butt back into a normal position. Maybe he was trying to stand, to help me stand. He really is an advanced baby, already standing. Haha!
Well, it really is time for some house work. No time for spellcheck/editing, so enjoy the errors! Have a GRAND Monday!
Anyway, after my dentist appointment, I registered Parisann on base (she's now completely legal!) and came home and crashed. Ok, so I threw apple pie ingredients into the crockpot first, but after that I crashed. I'm not sure what is going on with my body lately. Umm duh, it's pregnant. But I am just so dang sleepy. I got plenty of sleep last night, even after waking up from a dream that Derick and I killed a man in a fancy hotel room and hid the body, only to find out the man was actually just a Muppet.
I don't mean to brag, but I really have been doing a lot, considering "my condition." Derick has nicknamed me, "Nester" because I'm pretty OCD about Reeve's room and his stuff and our house in general. He keeps saying we have plenty of time to get it all done, and I argue that he can't be so sure about that, especially since my due date seems to be a little earlier than first expected. I just like/want to have things in order, instead of waiting until the last minute and then forgetting something important. Plus, while I have the energy (somewhat), why not get it done? One day very soon, I'm pretty sure my energy will be completely zapped--never, ever to return again. I've been after Derick for a few days to get Reeve's carseat installed. He has two bases, one for each car, and yesterday I told Derick I would be happy if he could just get one in the Kia, since that's our nicer car and the one I use the most. Plus, the Ford has crap air conditioning right now, which is another blog post. Anyway, I knew Derick wasn't feeling keen on the installation, but after about six episodes of Biggest Loser yesterday, I finally coaxed him into the garage to get that seat latched down. Apparently, this isn't an easy task. Maybe it's because our carseat is European and all those foreigners are very unfamiliar with our fast-paced, easy-as-possible society, but Derick struggled with that seat for over half an hour. Once in place, he had me check it, and unfortunately, I didn't really like the idea of the carseat being really close to the back of the passenger seat. I like to lean back like a gangster when I ride anyway, so it wasn't really working that the seat was in an uncomfortable, grandma-like, upright position.
I backed the car out of the garage, which Derick thought was stupid at first. He realized how smart his wife is once I rolled the windows down and fresh air was able to circulate through the car. Drenched in sweat from his time in the garage, Derick moved the seat to the middle and secured it very nicely. I'm proud of him.
So if for some reason Reeve decides to come earlier than expected, the carseat is ready. Half my bag is packed, but I still need to invest in a nightgown, apparently. I also need to write a birth plan and find Reeve a coming home outfit. He already has a couple cute outfits we're going to take for pics in the hospital.
As far as his room goes, everything is basically in order. Some stuff still needs to be hung, but other than that, it's ready. Now, I guess we just wait, which is not easy for me, and I'm pretty sure Derick is a little uncharacteristically anxious as well. I'm pretty sure Reeve is content where he is right now, although last night, I was *trying* to get off the couch, and I guess he recognized my struggle. As I rolled over, a giant mound formed on my belly. I get these little mounds a lot. I guess it's just the way he likes to lay: booty in the air. But last night's mound was anything but little. I pointed it out to Derick, whose eyes became equally as large. We couldn't believe it! Derick said, "Reeve, you're trying to come out the wrong end," and he patted his little butt ever so sweetly. Reeve slowly burrowed his butt back into a normal position. Maybe he was trying to stand, to help me stand. He really is an advanced baby, already standing. Haha!
Well, it really is time for some house work. No time for spellcheck/editing, so enjoy the errors! Have a GRAND Monday!
Thursday, July 19, 2012
life aboard mcb cj
So, I've been really horrible at blogging lately. We've had a lot going on, and this is actually the first time I've sat down in front of an actual computer in weeks. My family is asleep; Derick is on the couch, Parisann is in her chair, and I'm pretty sure Reeve is conked out, too. So I decided now was a good time to blog.
I hope you all got the chance to see our pics and video of the world's cutest baby. Yes, I'm partial, but he sure is a little doll. It was such a surprise to see him like that (3D) for the first time. He doesn't really look like what I've pictured, and I've even had a few dreams about his little face, but his cuteness blew me away today. In one of my dreams, he was a nine-month-old black girl, so my visions are pretty askew.
I spent most of the day at the doctor's office, actually. I took that glucose test two weeks ago, and failed, so I had to go back today for the longer one. Thankfully, and against all my gut feelings, I passed it, so no gestational diabetes for this girl. Thank You, Lord! And thank you to all the moms and moms-to-be that helped me relax during my moments of freak out. It wasn't really the diet change that I was worried about. Though pasta (and lately cake) have become my vice, I'm pretty good about eating veggies and relatively healthy, in general. I was more worried about the possibility of Reeve being gigantic and having problems during labor. Derick, on the other hand, was pumped when the doctor called Reeve a "Tank." Though I found out later that the doctor was just joking in his doctorly way, Reeve is measuring ahead of schedule. He weighs a little over 4 lbs right now, and that puts me at a little over 32 weeks. This changed my due date on the ultrasound screen to September 10, although the technician didn't come out and tell me that. So, if he comes early, great! If not, great! He will come on his own time, and we are just going to *try* to be patient for his arrival.
So, touching on something other than baby news, we are in our new house on base, and I am SO glad! We have more space, and Derick can get to work in about 7 minutes. The commissary and MCX are right around the corner, as are two fancy swimming pools for my pregnant butt to sit in. Paris has adjusted so well. She likes her new place, I think. She definitely loves the deer in our back yard. They leave her little treats (poop), which she doesn't hesitate to roll in. Lovely.
Other than moving, conquering the glucose test, (which, honestly isn't as bad as people make it out to be. Maybe that's because I had one last year, and my drink was room temp, and it was disgusting, so this one was a relief with a chilled drink), and seeing a crazy-realistic view of R, nothing new is going on. Derick has been at the range all week, which means he has woken up at 3am, which means I have woken up that early. It is becoming more and more difficult to sleep, and I'm not quite sure why. I don't find it too difficult to get comfortable, I'm usually pretty sleepy when we get into bed, and I'm not up *too* many times to go pee. Maybe I'm just really anxious about the changes we are about to face. Good changes, of course.
I told my friends this week that I'm quite confident that babies and life in general are all directly related to God. I mean, of course they are. But looking back on some of the challenges and rewards Derick and I have been a part of, I think the general conception and soon-to-be birth of our son has a lot less to do with nature and earth and every confusing and weird aspect that goes into having a baby, and a lot more to do with just God and His grace and provision. When you think about it, the world itself is actually kinda working against you when you're trying to have a baby. It pretty much takes the perfect moment for all things to fall into place to achieve success. Odds really aren't in our favor, although from the outside in, it may seem otherwise, judging by all the people out there who seem to have a baby every nine months. But going back to that phrase, "...all things to fall into place to achieve success," life itself is a miracle, and Reeve Magnus has already proven that to me before he's even seen the world for the first time.
I hope you all got the chance to see our pics and video of the world's cutest baby. Yes, I'm partial, but he sure is a little doll. It was such a surprise to see him like that (3D) for the first time. He doesn't really look like what I've pictured, and I've even had a few dreams about his little face, but his cuteness blew me away today. In one of my dreams, he was a nine-month-old black girl, so my visions are pretty askew.
I spent most of the day at the doctor's office, actually. I took that glucose test two weeks ago, and failed, so I had to go back today for the longer one. Thankfully, and against all my gut feelings, I passed it, so no gestational diabetes for this girl. Thank You, Lord! And thank you to all the moms and moms-to-be that helped me relax during my moments of freak out. It wasn't really the diet change that I was worried about. Though pasta (and lately cake) have become my vice, I'm pretty good about eating veggies and relatively healthy, in general. I was more worried about the possibility of Reeve being gigantic and having problems during labor. Derick, on the other hand, was pumped when the doctor called Reeve a "Tank." Though I found out later that the doctor was just joking in his doctorly way, Reeve is measuring ahead of schedule. He weighs a little over 4 lbs right now, and that puts me at a little over 32 weeks. This changed my due date on the ultrasound screen to September 10, although the technician didn't come out and tell me that. So, if he comes early, great! If not, great! He will come on his own time, and we are just going to *try* to be patient for his arrival.
So, touching on something other than baby news, we are in our new house on base, and I am SO glad! We have more space, and Derick can get to work in about 7 minutes. The commissary and MCX are right around the corner, as are two fancy swimming pools for my pregnant butt to sit in. Paris has adjusted so well. She likes her new place, I think. She definitely loves the deer in our back yard. They leave her little treats (poop), which she doesn't hesitate to roll in. Lovely.
Other than moving, conquering the glucose test, (which, honestly isn't as bad as people make it out to be. Maybe that's because I had one last year, and my drink was room temp, and it was disgusting, so this one was a relief with a chilled drink), and seeing a crazy-realistic view of R, nothing new is going on. Derick has been at the range all week, which means he has woken up at 3am, which means I have woken up that early. It is becoming more and more difficult to sleep, and I'm not quite sure why. I don't find it too difficult to get comfortable, I'm usually pretty sleepy when we get into bed, and I'm not up *too* many times to go pee. Maybe I'm just really anxious about the changes we are about to face. Good changes, of course.
I told my friends this week that I'm quite confident that babies and life in general are all directly related to God. I mean, of course they are. But looking back on some of the challenges and rewards Derick and I have been a part of, I think the general conception and soon-to-be birth of our son has a lot less to do with nature and earth and every confusing and weird aspect that goes into having a baby, and a lot more to do with just God and His grace and provision. When you think about it, the world itself is actually kinda working against you when you're trying to have a baby. It pretty much takes the perfect moment for all things to fall into place to achieve success. Odds really aren't in our favor, although from the outside in, it may seem otherwise, judging by all the people out there who seem to have a baby every nine months. But going back to that phrase, "...all things to fall into place to achieve success," life itself is a miracle, and Reeve Magnus has already proven that to me before he's even seen the world for the first time.
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