Of Contractions and No Sleep

I'm having contractions! I am so excited about it since my doctor said that contractions in the weeks before delivery is a really good sign that your labor will go quicker and easier. The only problem is contractions really suck. And they don't even hurt that bad right now. Yikes...

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Last night I woke up several times, which is usual nowadays, from a number of ailments. The first awakening occurred when the entire right side of my body fell asleep. The second occurred after a nightmare--I knew I had a baby but I couldn't find it anywhere. The third when I had to pea for the first time. The fourth, fifth and sixth because L was snoring. The seventh when I had to pea for the second time; but this time I thought I would just suck it up and wait until wake-up time. You may think I am crazy for avoiding 9th month pregnancy urination but I have learned that baby wakes up when I get up in the middle of the night to relieve myself, which in turn keeps me up for various lengths of time. Well, I couldn't suck it up for long and sure enough baby woke up. Baby was awake for TWO HOURS. Yep, between 3:30 am to 5:30 am. I'm not sure what he thinks he is doing but it sure seems like he's having a good time; at least one of us is. As I laid there thinking I realized I have probably slept my last really good night of sleep. I am not sure when it was, I didn't know good sleep was coming to an end and so I am afraid I did not appreciate that one last night...

Let Me Introduce You to Damnit All To Hell!

Some of you may not know my kitty's full name: Damnit All To Hell Camu-Liggett-Sajovic-Hemphill. She has been my baby since October 2001, and each of her last names honors one of her owners, past and present. As fore mentioned, this is her full given name but she has a lot of names. During the 2004 summer Olympics she was watching the women's diving competition and felt badly that her name didn't reflect her Asian heritage. So we picked out, Wu Yu (Wu was one of the diving competitors, you see). Wu Yu is a very convenient name when she has been bad because it translates easily to "Woooooo, you!!!!!" while I chase her around the house trying to catch her to either go into time out or to get sprayed with water. When I first got her she was so little and naughty that we often referred to her as "Bad Baby." We would sing it to the tune of "Bad Boys." Even though she has severe behavior problems, a very poor attitude, and has being rude down to an art she is also extraordinarily loving. At these times we refer to her as "Precious." I always wanted a cat with blue eyes and so sometimes I can't help but call her "Baby Blue." Anyway, our blog didn't feel complete without mentioning this member of our family.

Baby Bump?

I'm not sure why people refer to the expanding pregnant uterus as a baby bump. It never feels like a bump; bump implies something cute. In actuality my growing belly started out feeling like I was seriously bloated (oh wait, I was). I suggest we rename baby bump in the first trimester to baby bloat instead. After the bloating stage my stomach began to feel more like a mountain than a bump. I propose we rename the baby bump in the second trimester to baby bachelor (that's a reference to an Oregon mountain for our non-Oregonian readers). I am now in the after-mountain stage of the ever-growing mid-section, the stage where I feel as if my abdominal muscles are going to explode at any time. A good rename for the baby bump during the third trimester is baby burst. Sadly, I do not think the baby is going to burst out anytime soon.

Nothing about being pregnant feels cute even though people tell me all of the time how cute I am or look. There is something about babies that makes people go all cutsie. My first example is the "onsie." The reason they aren't called "body suits," which they actually are, is because "body suit" is not a cute word. So someone came up with "onsie" instead. Here's another example, "boppy." Do you know how long it took me to figure out what a "boppy" is? Several months into my pregnancy I finally caught on while registering, Oh, it's that curved pillow...Why don't they just call it a curved pillow? A third example, "tummy time." Okay, why don't they call this "core training" or "pilates" which it actually is? Just so you all know, I had to read an article to figure out what "tummy time" is and its purpose. My final proposition for this blog entry is that we stop using the cutsie words and use the accurate terminology so baby-idiots, such as myself, understand more quickly what is going on, what I need for my baby, and what I need to do with my baby. If you catch me using one of these words I give you permission to slap me across the face and rebuke me for feeding into the cutsie movement.

Note: Before posting this L read it and said, "Geez, someone has the Monday Moodies." Uh, it's Tuesday.

Popular demand

Well , after such crazed demand here is the little all nestled inside. Hope he likes it in there cuz when he gets out he is going right to work on the farm. I have decided that taking pregnant belly pictures is not the easiest thing in the world. I always see the adds of this pregnant lady and the belly and it looks all awesome and such. I think I am going to have to buy Photoshop to enhance my picture taking abilities.

Baby's First Concert

I can't believe I stood outside in a line for an hour and a half in freezing weather for a concert last night. I am sick and tired of sitting in an office chair for nine hours a day and than coming home each eventing to lay on a heating pad for six more hours, so when I was invited to go to MIKA's concert for free I found myself looking forward to something for the first time in months. Though standing there in the freezing cold and weaseling my way into restaurant's bathrooms (they all had signs that boldly threatened "FOR PATRONS ONLY") every twenty or so minutes wasn't really what I had in mind, it made for an exciting night...the first in a really really long time.

It was fun to use my 8.5 month pregnancy as a great excuse for lots of bad behavior: cutting in line, getting a good viewing position inside, having more room than is usually polite at a general admission concert, and shouting at the top of my lungs at the hostile lady behind us in line to SHUT UP!

If you are not familiar with MIKA, let me introduce you. MIKA is a band from the UK, lead singer from Lebanon and band members from various ethnic backgrounds. They have a Euro-vibe. That is, they can totally get away with being EMO without being annoying. The music is very light-hearted and carefree and if you sample a song or two you may be quite surprised and think, at first hearing, "Cheesy." But it totally grew on me and now I am definitely a fan--in fact, I had to talk myself out of buying a $40 MIKA shirt. MIKA is so popular in Europe that they are playing a 50,000 person venue on the 4th of July in Paris. Anyhoo, here is a link if you would like to check them out: http://www.mikasounds.com/uk.php

I think baby is a fan.

Good Therapist, Bad Therapist

It is another day at work, the same buzz of florescent lights singing through the hum-drum of my clients' problems just like any other day.

I am reviewing my schedule of afternoon appointments and I notice I am to see a brand new client at 2:00 pm. Ooo, something new to shake things up a bit. Wait, I think, is this the client whose mother I have been blowing off for weeks because she sounds over-dramatic and drunk on the voicemails she has left (but does not bother to schedule an appointment)? If so this meeting might be a little awkward.

I get the call from the administrative assistant stating that my client is ready. My heart is pounding a little harder than normal as I walk down the hallway to the waiting area...I really hope she doesn't yell at me.

Oh, they seem pretty normal; and they are smiling at me instead of yelling--cool. Cute 17 year-old girl with beautiful long blond hair and she looks just like Mom. I think I am going to like these two after all. I feel a little bad for blowing Mom off.

It's about half way through session now and Mom has spent the first half of session systematically explaining that her daughter is really Satan, and that is why they need therapy. Then Mom says meekly, "I'm just wondering if I can take her cell phone away when she breaks my rules?"

Instead of screaming, What in Sam's Hill lady?! Why haven't you taken it yet? No wonder your daughter thinks she can get away with smashing her fist through your house walls...Because SHE DOES! I say in my most genuine and thoughtful voice, "I'm wondering why you need validation from me to discipline you daughter?" (Note: This is a really good therapist thing to do)

She responds sadly, "Well, whenever I threaten to take her phone away she threatens to kill herself..."

I can feel my eyebrows narrow and the words tumble out like a boulder falling off a cliff, "What makes you think she is so serious about killing herself when you aren't so serious about taking her phone away?"

Mom's mouth falls open and daughter snickers slightly.

Now you decide: Good therapist or bad therapist?

P.S. Don't worry, I do all the right things after this, like safety planning.