T3: Getting out of bed is a chore!

I am alive, I promise! Sorry that we have not been blogging over the last three weeks, life has been full of work, napping, cleaning, storing, and napping. Wow, so just hit the 32-week mark and things have been going pretty well. As you saw in the previous post, the baby is growing at a pretty fast rate. Supposedly, the baby will gain 1/2 pound every week from here until D-day (*smirk*)...gee, I can't wait to become a beached whale! During our 30 or 31-week appointment, the baby was estimated to be 3lbs 10oz. I can definitely tell that our little monkey is growing because the strength of the kicks are growing stronger everyday. Even though the novelty has worn off being able to feel the baby move, it's still an amazing process. Like my former boss said, it feels like you have "company" all of the time. :)

Things are starting to become more difficult as time passes, such as getting out of bed. I frequent the restroom in the office and at home which I've blazed a permanent trail; however, in the middle of the night when you are fast asleep and suddenly have the urge to pee...it's a process to get to the destination. I always feel like I can hold it for a little while longer, so I lay in bed hoping and praying that the baby will NOT move. I've been lucky here and there, but the little one tends to wiggle and it's a done deal. With the extra weight and additional pillows, it's definitely a chore!

Keith and I recently finished the Prepared Childbirth class at Baylor. We went every Monday night for four weeks from 7-9:30. Not only did we learn about labor and delivery, we had a chance to watch a C-section and V-back along with looking at an epidural kit (I think Keith's eyes bulged out of his head when he saw the catheter). I thought it was a great experience to learn about everything that happens leading up to the little one's arrival and meeting other couples that are in similar situations, so we could share ideas and talk about our experiences. Does the process scare me? HECK YEAH! But, after our monkey is placed in my arms...everything will seem like a distant memory.

After looking at all of the clothes we received at our showers in Seattle, Keith and I decided to go shopping at the Allen outlet mall (about 20-30 minutes north of DT Dallas). There were lots of stores to see, but the heat was beating down on us. I became a "grumpy-pants" with no food in the tummy, so Keith hauled me over to the food court to make the situation manageable. Then we headed to Carter's. We found the PERFECT outfit for the little one to come home in...you'll have to wait until we come home from the hospital to see it. I can't wait!!!

Thanks again to everyone for being patient, I promise to blog more often. 'Til next time, hope everyone has a wonderful weekend.

Odds, Ends, and Doulas

To the right you can see what we've (mostly Alison) have been doing for the past month, you know, while we haven't been updating this here blog. We've been building a baby (like I said, mostly Alison). Apparently we put the battery in a little early, because the little rugrat has been kicking like Billy Blanks was doing a Tae Bo class in Alison's tummy.

Now, I think the kicking part is pretty cool. My little munchkin is raring to go and from what I've felt, is pretty strong and active. I think, however, that the novelty has worn off for the most part with my wonderful lady. The other night we spent the better part of an hour trying to get the little monkey to stop kicking so Alison could get to sleep. Suffice to say, it took a while, this whole thing is my fault, and for a little while, it was MY baby, not hers. Luckily I have plenty of practice taking the blame for things, thanks to my previous, less mature, slightly more chaotic life, so I am doing just fine with shouldering that blame.

It has been a pretty interesting month. We've been taking basic baby care classes (last class was last week) and I have to say, and I know I'm going to regret saying this later, that it just doesn't seem like things are going to be that bad. I mean, taking care of a baby is seems like it will be pretty straight forward. There aren't but a few things a baby really wants: sleep, food, clean drawers, and attention. Sounds about like what I was looking for when I met Alison, and look at me now.

Speaking of me, which we weren't really, but bear with me, I have stumbled across a theory I'm going to run by the lot of you reading this blog. The other day as we sat in the doctor's office (the weekly sonogram's take all of 5 minutes, while the wait time clocks in at at least triple that), Alison and I got into the reasons she still has to tell me things that she wants done, you know, rather than give some vague hint that maybe something needs to be done. I keep telling her it's just how guys are, she refuses to believe me, she wants a responsible man who knows to do all of these things she wants. I want a Unicorn that poops hundred dollar bills, and I'm willing to bet I get it before she finds a guy who doesn't need to be reminded to pick up his socks.

The theory goes something like this: Men date women, and get snared into long term relationships because they find a woman who will put up with them, occasionally let us fool around with them, and usually doesn't break our balls too much about the things we don't do. In other words, men date women because women let us. Women on the other hand, start dating a guy with diffenent intentions. They see a diamond in the rough. They don't date us for what we are when we meet them, but for the potential they see in us down the road. For example, I no longer wear clothing with pictures of scantily clad women on them. I generally don't miss the toilet anymore, or at least try really hard and make sure I clean up if I do. I know that dinner does not come from a microwave. I know that salad is not a dirty word. I've learned that most four letter words are not appropriate in the company of children (although you can be assured I plan on teaching my kid how to curse properly - with force, with purpose and with clear intent).

All of which is to say, that Alison has made some progress with me. Which is as it should be, but I don't think she's fully accepted that this will be a lifelong process, and that I will require training well into our golden years. This is how I know she loves me.

I ran this theory by the receptionist at the baby place we were at. She smiled but refrained from saying anything. This is how I know I'm right.

Aside from all of the other stuff we're debating at this point - where to put the baby when we bring the munchkin home, whether or not I'm allowed to dress the baby in an LA Lakers onsie, how much trouble I'll be in if the kid's first words are say, 'assclown', for example - the other idea that Alison has been floating is the hiring of a doula. For those of you who don't know, a doula is basically a midwife type of lady. She helps with the birth, provides moral support, holds hands, etc. I know, I know, I thought it was my job too. However Alison, despite no previous examples with which to back this particular idea up, has it in her head somewhere that I'm going to throw my hands up in frustration and be done with the whole thing mid-way through labor. Thus the idea that she needs a doula to pick up the slack.

In my defense I would like to say that I have never thrown my hands up in exasperation and walked off despite a number of occasions where the man-gods would have given me a pass. I have in fact proven to be pretty reliable. On the other hand, if the insurance will pay for it, I can't think of reason not to have a doula there. Better to have and not need, rather than need and not have.

'til next time...vaya con dios friends, we'll have more for you on Sunday, when - I promise - both Alison and I will be back writing again.

Cotton Bowl, Inappropriate Places to Fart, & 3 Squares of TP

I hope everyone had a fantastic 4th of July! Our first Independence Day in TX turned out pretty well. Keith and I spent the first part of the day relaxing at the house and watched Gran Torino - a fantastic movie, by the way. Since it was our first year in Dallas, we decided to venture out to a local fireworks display. A co-worker mentioned a good display at Fair Park, the same location where the famous Texas State Fair is held and right outside the Cotton Bowl. We finally found parking 20 minutes after we arrived and walked to the grounds; it had been in the triple digits and kind of humid (yuck!), but I was smart and wore comfortable shoes. Oh my goodness, there were thousands of people! We were a little unprepared because others brought blankets, lounging chairs, and coolers...we had nothing, but a few dollars to quench our thirsty mouths. Overall, the fireworks display was pretty good, but what made it an awesome event were all of the little kids around us in unison saying, "oooh" and "aww" each time a cool firework went off. :) I can't wait for our little monkey to celebrate 4th of July with us, sparklers and fireworks OH MY!

With pregnancy comes the wonderful bodily function of increased flatulence. As the baby continues to grow, it squashes all of my internal organs out of the way! Just like having to rush to the restroom to pee every twenty minutes, farts tend to surface immediately at the most unexpected times. As for me, it is always when there is a large group of people close by or when I am in an enclosed area (i.e. the car - sorry Keith, LOL!). Lately, Keith seems to be having the same symptoms as I and farts in the most inappropriate places. For example, we were in Wal-Mart the other day grocery shopping, mind you it was five or six o'clock at night so the store was not empty. We were walking through the aisle, he stopped so I stopped and then he briskly walked away with the cart mumbling under his breath, "I just dropped a$$!" Too bad I had to look for snacks in that exact location. :( Or today, while we were waiting for the nurse to call us into the doctor's office, Keith was lounging in the chair and toots right in the waiting room with a couple sitting right across the way from us. AWESOME! Do males automatically pick-up similar symptoms that their pregnant woman has to deal with?

We finally made it to the third trimester of the pregnancy, WOO HOO! Keith has been fantastic throughout the last six months: waking up early in the morning to drive me to work and always picks me up at the end of the day, he cooks awesome dinners, and even cleans the dishes and picks-up around the house - I cannot complain too much because he is a fantastic partner and I love him very much. However, I'm not sure if it's out of laziness or if he really doesn't notice, but Keith always leaves me with the last three squares of toilet paper on the roll! C'mon, really?!