Wednesday, July 31, 2013

I've become a hermit and also I hate pants now. Is that weird?

Nesting is definitely in full force, Lord help my husband. I have developed this strange thing about leaving the house, I hate it and I can't not stop reading disturbing post birth "what they don't tell you" articles off of pinterest. Seriously y'all... are you aware of what happens after a natural birth? You know what... if you aren't don't even look it up, it's sounds like it would be better to go into blindly. I am not even worried about giving birth now, it sounds like that part is going to be the easy part. Once again, Lord help my husband, he is going to have two babies to deal with. You know, it's a good thing I married the man I did because I'll be honest, bodily functions, bodily anything really, gross me out. It's something I believe I inherited from my mother, you mention the F word (and I am not talking about the F.U.C.K. word. Also I spelt it out so that makes it ok) around her and your are going to get the sky pulled down on you.

Also, I have developed this strange hatred of pants lately. Is that weird? The most uncomfortable thing in the entire world to me is pants and I mean all pants in general. Shorts, sweats, jeans, I pretty much hate them all and I really really hate this stretchy belly band crap they put on maternity pants. I mean, I guess I see the purpose of it but when is someone going to invent them in short fat girl sizes? Seriously... My belly, even though it looks big on a person of my size, it's really not in maternity pant terms. What I am trying to say is... when you can pull that stretchy part up to your chest, it's more than serving it's purpose. And wow... has anyone else noticed how freaking hot maternity clothes are? I mean, here I am in the 102 degree desert with my stretchy shorts with a non-breathable belly thingamajiger and a shirt on top of that. As if summer wasn't hellish enough already. For the record though I do wear skirts now, as much as they are against my very nature, in case you had this vision of a short, little, fat pregnant girl running around pant-less in your head. Anyways, I think I should start designing maternity clothes for people close to my size after this.

7ish more weeks until we meet baby Reeves. Eek! So ready!

Preparing the troops

I've always worried about what it is going to be like for the fuzzies on the day that we bring a new baby home. Well that day will soon be approaching and I have been reading up and working on how to prepare  them for that day. It may sound crazy to some but, my fuzzies are just as much a part of our family as we are and obviously they are going to be spending as much time around the baby as I am. Especially being as how both dogs sleep next to our bed and are my great protectors during the day.

1. The Two Great Protectors-
I have been convinced that the dogs know something is up since early on in my pregnancy and I say this because of the level of aggression these two have suddenly developed towards strangers if I am home alone. If someone knocks on our door before I can get them outside, forget it, they are going to be eaten if I open that door because they make sure to body block me from the other person. I am interested to see if they continue to react this way when Reeves gets here. I have read that little can be done to stop this and that it is their natural instinct to protect expectant owners.

2. Baby Cries-
 I started looking up baby crying videos on youtube so that I could watch them react to the sound. Murphy could careless, Ti listens and DaBear panicks. I am afraid we may not see the cat for awhile. He absolutely does not enjoy baby noises.

3. Baby Smells-
Both of my dogs are scavengers, they go through EVERYTHING! I bring a bag home from the store and both of them will have their heads inside of it before I can turn around. It's been worse with baby stuff, Ti not only has to smell but taste everything we come home with. I am tired of washing stuff but so far they have been ok with everything.

4.Baby Toys-
The fight against Ti has already begun. He loves to sneak into Reeves' room and pluck a stuffed animal out of the basket when I am not paying attention. I have no idea how to break him of this. I have tried getting on to him, hiding toys, you name it, he still drags them out. I'm worried one day he is going to discover binkies.

5. The Nursery-
I have been super crazy lately about not wanting the cat to be familiar with the nursery and I have gotten back into the habit of locking him out of our room at night. The dogs love to go in and sleep at the foot of his crib during the day while I am in there but I freak whenever I see DaBear slinking in around the corner. I have read a million horror stories lately and I feel a little guilty for excluding him from the group but I can't help it. Poor Bear Cat. :(

Monday, July 22, 2013

Goodbye wild and crazy past, hello diapers, onesies, and stretch marks.

I've made it to the home stretch, and I am not talking about those nasty little red lines all over what I use to think were acceptable thighs or boobs. We'll get to those in a little bit and yes, I did just tell you that I now have stretch marks on my boobs. Along with patience you also lose most of your modesty during pregnancy, not that I had a whole lot of that to begin with. (Also, I just got this vision of my mother reading this and her saying out loud something like... "yeah but you still refuse to let me in the delivery room when the time comes." Sorry Momzy, in that moment I may not care who sees me delivering a watermelon but I'm sure a couple of days afterwards the reality of it will sink in. Some parts of a person's body should only be seen by the person who help put them in that condition. Just Saying)

Anyways... the purpose of this blog was to tell you that I am getting closer and closer to the end every day now and THANK YOU BABY JESUS for that because holy macaroni y'all... I might be one of the moodiest, most swollen, irritated, uncomfortable, about to tear my own spine out craziest pregnant women I've ever known. I am so tired of the, "worth it" and "well at least" speech. I totally get that it's all worth it and I am sure it could be worse, I don't even want to imagine how it could be. I have always known I wanted to be a mother but let's be honest here, MAKING A PERSON IS HARD WORK and everyone has a different experience.  I haven't slept a full night in WEEKS, I have to schedule outings very carefully because my left leg stays numb 100% of the time and to long on my feet sends a shooting pain up my spine, my back is KILLING me and I know if I feel the stress (which usually causes a couple of contractions) then I know my kid has got to feel it, and my feet only fit in shoes two sizes bigger than my normal size or in my two pair of Columbia Drainmakers. (Thank God for Columbia! Seriously guys, Columbia drainmakers are the best! I discovered them last year on my honeymoon and now I am convinced they were secretly designed for pregnant women. I normally use them to fly fish because they have drains so the water doesn't get trapped in your shoe and they are made out of this great light weight material that breathes really well. Which means swollen pregnant feet stay cool! Plus they are pretty wide, more room to swell in)

It is a strange thing to find yourself in this position. I thought before this I had a few more years of doing the things I did best. You know, running a muck, drinking ice cold beer, traveling around with my handsome husband killing stuff. (By stuff I mean animals that are in season to all you greenies that stumbled upon this blog by accident. I should worn you now, we are hunters and there are probably pictures of dead animals that we harvested on this blog. Just Saying. Also, I'm only adding this in because some "anonymous" dumbass recently left me a cute comment about how I shouldn't hunt or fish for poor defenseless animals. Umm... at least I know what's on my plate. Can you tell me what preservatives are in/on the foods you are eating?) Back to my point, it's a funny thing how I went from putting an outfit together in my head all week for Saturday night to day dreaming about what his nursery will look like when I am finished with it. And going out, sheesh, I hate leaving my house now. I would rather spend all day and night in my house. I don't like to even go into my front yard because I honestly have no interest in seeing anyone for the most part. My friends call and ask if I want to do something and I'd rather stay home and sew something or nap then leave my drive way. BUT, even though I am becoming a fat, grouchy, hermit, I am completely excited about meeting my son. It's a strange feeling when you suddenly realize that you love someone more than you could possibly love anything else (next to your spouse of course). It's a different kind of over protective, I'll kill you if you talk crap about my kid or look at him wrong kind of love. He is not even here yet and I do this weird thing  when I walk into a place... I examine the room, look to see who is there and develop a million different scenarios and escape plans in case anyone/thing could try to come at me and hurt my precious little bump. I also have taken inventory of every weapon or item that could be used as a weapon in my home just in case anyone ever tried to break into my house. Not to mention my greatest weapons have become over protective, bitey little individuals. Ti and Murph stay as close as possible to me all the time now, I am convinced they know.

Anyways... that is enough for tonight. I had this whole ending planned up but holy shit y'all I am tired! More crazy rants from the hormone driven lunatic later.