Saturday, October 30, 2010

Isabelle Ashley Clare Brown

Born 10-30-10  2:43 pm
Weight 7 lbs 12 oz
Length 19 inches

Friday, October 29, 2010

Stubborn Baby

So I tried to have a baby today.  Really really hard.  Cervadil last night/this morning and pitocin for 10 hours today.  Still no baby.  We are starting over with Cervadil tonight and will see what the morning brings.  Hopefully a baby.

Monday, October 18, 2010


I no longer know how to post pictures to my blogger account.  I'm not a computer wizard.  The button should just work. 
Don't worry.  I'm not trying to post pictures of a baby or of me in labor. (eww you wouldn't want to see that last one anyway).  Just pictures because my blog seems dull without them.  The video of Josh climbing the van wouldn't take either.  That was a good one.  He's quite adventerous.

Pregnancy #3 is going to be a long rant.  But I don't feel like doing it right now.  It's fall and pretty so I should be in a good mood.  I want to make dinner and take the kids to the mall park and forget that I am pregnant at all. 

Adam is officially in panic mode for tests.  I think that all the guys are.  Soon his memory will rival an alzheimer's patient's and he will ask me things in another medical language.  I won't know but it won't matter.  His mind will find the answer to that and forget where the toilet paper is.  or his keys.  He will stop eating and sleeping and functioning as a human altogether and morph into 'podiatry student #xxx'.  I'm already anxious for two weeks from now. 

Monday, October 11, 2010

pregnancy part 1

I've tried not to obsess too much about being pregnant but now that I am at the pinnacle it is hard for me and others to ignore.  Badgered everyday by complete strangers advice and questions about my lady parts in addition to the very realistically excessive weight I am carrying around it is hard for it not to consume my whole world.  Plus a human is literally going to come out of me in a couple of weeks.  Very uhhh consuming. 

Subject #1 Old Men

Lately this old guy at Bally's with a thick european accent has been really weird around me.  First of all he is grandpa old.   Like he could be my grandpa or maybe even  my dad's grandpa old.  Second of all he embodies a lot of the things that makes me feel like an agist prick.  He smells like baby powder, oils his hair, gets to close, lacks basic social skills, anticipates that his every word will be taken as golden droplets of pure truth with the strength of super glue.  Third he tells me that pregnancy is sexy.

Old men, like as in more than 5 years (being generous here) older than me, should not say the word sexy.  Ever.  And young men, as in more than 5 years younger than me, should just think it is a word in Justin Timberlake songs.  This is a droplet of golden truth with the strength of super glue.

Anyway he does super annoying things that I can't really tell on him about.  I can't really complain to the management that he is old and used the word sexy.  I don't think that they could do anything but tell him that he bugs me, something I do with every ounce of body language; which is a lot these days. 

Today he told me that he thinks I work too hard.  Which means he watches me.  Ewww.  Then he told me that he thought another pregnant lady that is due in december, that he apparently stalks, is lazy.  She is still at the gym.  This made me mad.  Very very very very mad.  Like smash his face with my car mad. 

Just to be clear I don't participate in conversations with him.  He needs no eye contact or verbal cues to continue talking.  In fact he stands behind whatever weight machine I'm on and talks to me. 

It made me mad that based solely on his stalking and oldness factor he had the audacity to judge and compare me and someone else.  I've had an exceptionally good pregnancy.  If I had the capacity to enjoy pregnancy this would be the one to enjoy.  Second of all no pregnant lady in a gym can be lazy.  It's just not possible.  Even walking up stairs winds you.  It is almost impossible to be lazy as a pregnant person.  Third, he clearly has never done it.  Thank heavens he reminds me that he has never successfully procreated, which means that he also has never even helped someone else do it.  What a butt.   

Also he should never ever watch me.  He should just look at gym equipment.  Maybe use it.

Subject #2

Clothes suck during pregnancy. 

They are cute when you are in your second semester. 

Then your third trimester hits and you are the shape of that planet with rings and lots of moons all encompassed by skin.  That is all the hold me together is skin.  Who knew that pregnancy is so lumpy.  Nothing like the basketball that you shove under your shirt when you are trying to scare your husband before you have kids.  Really much more like a planet surrounded by rings and moons held together under a stretched out zebra looking type of skin.

Clothing manufacter's don't know how to dress saturn/venus mixed bodies.  They don't.  So you can wear a heavy tent that still doesn't cover everything or you can wear clothes that are more normal that don't cover everything...

Today I got a little crazy.  Normally I do the mirror check and I change clothes a few times.  Even then it's barely tolerable.  Today I was in a big hurry so I did not do a mirror check.  I wore maternity pants with Adam's polo.  I thought that it would be okay.   I looked exactly like a planet with rings and lots of moons.  I could be a poster child for teens to not get pregnant.  "Look you have to dress ugly while you are pregnant.  Don't have sex!"

I'm having an even harder time this pregnancy because I really don't want to spend any money clothes that I am going to wear for just a few months.  I have a maternity wardrobe I shouldn't have to buy more clothes.  But nothing fits.  Nothing.  Even when I go to the store to buy things they either fall right off or show every detail that would shame even an astrologer.  I'm not naturally modest either.  Sorry world.  Look for me at that Walmart shame website.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Benign Terrorism

Some of you know that I have a passive-aggressive streak.  For instance this past summer as Adam and I were folding clothes my darling husband came out with an outrageous accusation.  He accused me of intentionally loading all of his clothes with the old dryer sheets.  He complained that it seemed to him that he was the only one who had dryer sheets in his clothes. 

It was such a genius idea.  It is so cathartic to put old dryer sheets in his socks or pockets, sleeves.  I've tried to find places where he won't notice them until lunch or have a friend pluck one from the back of his shirt.  Very cathartic when more random and untrue accusations come my way...or just when I am upset but not enough to really say anything...or when he couldn't do anything to change it anyway.  Harmless most days.  Other days it might send him into a sneaky hate spiral *this particular post does contain "language"*

Anyway you get the point.  I have a passive aggressive side.

So I've decided that my GPS is controlled by non-commital terrorists.  The less passionate part of terrorism that doesn't make it into the news.  They hate, they have opinions, but they don't want to waste their energy or voice trying to get their message out there.  Too much effort. 

Instead they made their own generic GPS brand at a slightly cheaper rate so that suckers like me would use them.  I have a mio.  The mio is a great passive aggressive tool. 

First of all I'm convinced that the randomly red/green satelite tracker is a camera.  When the said terrorist cannot see my face the satelite will go out and require re-adjustment.  This give the viewer optimal viewage of my frusteration.

The next step just depends on how much time my GPS terrorist has. 

Sometimes they will take me a very direct route only to have me make a perfect 1 mile square around my required destination causing me to be late even if I leave 1/2 hour early.  Ofcourse this also give me 1 square mile to get lost on my own.  Also amusing.  Amusing to watch me continuing to make the same sequential right hand turns and then wait while the mio recalculates and has me go around the block again. 

When they have some time they can be very creative.  Avoiding all highways except toll roads, knowing from the hidden camera that I have .30 less than the required toll.  And ofcourse the toll does not lead me where I want to go.  I will have to turn around, or better yet take surface streets.

You know the streets where every crossroad is a stop sign.  And ofcourse it is late at night.  And some how I am in the dangerous part of cleveland when I needed to be closer to Akron.  Then the GPS recalculates and tells me that I am 20 miles from my destination.  Really I am 2 miles if I could just find the !@)#(*#%^) highway. 

The highway is also a wonderful tool.  Since you have to merge and take all sorts of not clearly marked highway signs (why don't they just say "This way is home"  It would be so much easier).  Cleveland loves to have 3 exits or merges all at once.  The GPS terrorists helped plan this part of Cleveland. 

It is highly satisfying to lead you to one of these junctions and then recalculate your route.  Or tell you to get off at the next exit.  There is an arrow that takes up the entire part of the picture that tells which exit to take.  You will never take the right one and it will take atleast 8 miles one way to turn around.  Highly enjoyable. 

Ofcourse then you get to the part where the user (me) tries to beat the GPS.  This is where they suddenly get smart.  I print off mapquest directions and use the GPS.  Just to prove that it is a piece of junk that does not deserve a spot on the windshield where I could be looking at a dead bug.  Or traffic.  This is where they start messing with the mileage and ETA.

I am obsessed with the mileage and ETA functions of the GPS.  I feel so good when I can make the ETA go down by one minute.  If I need to speed and cut off a cop it is worth it.  When it is a long trip and I can make it go down by like 20 minutes it is so rewarding.  I've decided that it is like the "close door" button on the elevator.  It's not real.  It's the GPS terrorists.

This is where their plan is so awesome.  If I follow the mapquest directions they add minutes and mileage.  Always.  They can sense my lack of confidence.  I begin to forgive the GPS.  Start to think that it is better than mapquest, or worse my own weak knowledge of Cleveland.  Clearly if I am adding beloved minutes and mileage then I should have just followed the GPS.

 I feel inferior and resolve to just trust the GPS that will tell me that my destination is another 1/4 mile ahead when it is clearly right there.  Right there on the side of the road, no really right there.   I can see it but maybe I'll get minutes and mileage if I go around the block again.