Bed Rest--Day 4 or something...

...Who knows, they all run together.

Granted, the last couple of days have included a bit more activity than the strict definition of "bed rest" implies, but thanks to the generosity of good friends and Sean's return, life will return to the fully reclined position now. The doctor said yesterday I need to get a little more mileage from my cervix. Then I threw up on him for saying such a thing.

So, what's on tap for the rest of the week from the diva boudoir? Nothing but exhilarating excitement, I tell you. There's spreading out all of the 2006 tax receipts into some semblance of order for the accountant. There's the obligatory putting photos in albums. There is online shopping. There is reading a rather slow tome that even on bed rest is going to take weeks to get through the Russian revolution. There is daytime television--court shows and the Food Network.

And of course, there's blogging, so you can all share in the boredom.

Bed Rest--Day 2

Oscar-2, Me-0

I can't believe that a 3 pound baby is kicking my ass so soundly. If it's a boy, I may name him Leroy Brown.

I do look like a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of pieces gone.

Admitting defeat

I've seen some weird shit in my day, but watching the Blue Man Group last night was right up there with the weirdest.

Maybe I just wasn't in the mood. Because it occurred to me rather painfully and a barely avoided trip to the hospital on the way home, that this was the last extracurricular event I will be participating in until post-Oscar. I admit defeat. I thought I could avoid bed rest, but I can't any longer. I'm done.

And so, if you need me, I'll be working from the laptop from bed for the next couple of weeks extracting myself from bad television and a thick Russian novel for only the absolute necessities.

I don't even have the wherewithal to worry about my roots, either. I may just pull a Brittney and shave it all off.

What they say, and what they mean

You look great! You are just all baby!

You are so obscenely pregnant now, that I can see Oscar eating a sandwich in there.

I'm not unpacking that bag

The hospital staff took one look at those roots and agreed that we needed to buy more time.

Remember that scene in "Pulp Fiction" when Uma Thurman overdoses and they have to give her an adrenaline shot to the heart? I think they used the same procedure last night. I know I had to have had the same medication with Amy, but somehow I don't ever remember it quite so bad. I felt like I was having a heart attack, but I guess cardiac failure is the cure for preterm labor. Who knew?

This morning I feel as though I am in withdraws from like, oxygen or something, and I can't stop shaking. But I am thankful that we have more Oscar cooking time.

I better go call the hair dresser.

"How are you feeling today?"

He asked.

"I just packed my hospital bag," I answered.

I'm dying here. I hope I can make it to March. Or at least until Sean returns from Asheville. Or at least until the crib is assembled. Or at least until I have purchased one diaper, p.j., blanket or bottle of formula.

And most importantly, at least until I've had my roots touched up.

Yes, I speak dog

If dogs could talk, Jingle's first words would be, "WTF??!!"

It wasn't really a literal dog whisperer that came over yesterday, more like a dog growler. That's what we have to do in place of saying, "no." It's ridiculous. It's foolish. It is absolutely humiliating.

But you know something? It works.

By the end of that first session, Jingle was a transformed dog. She stopped eating us. She didn't bolt out the front door. She waited at least 8 hours before pissing in the house. It was unbelieveable. I might actually have a functioning dog in 6 weeks rather than Beowolf.

*No dogs were harmed in this training. Only a grown woman's ego.

Ash Wednesday

I've been thinking of my Lenten sacrifices this year. Since pregnancy is a 40 week self-sacrifice rather than simply 40 days, I've decided to go another route as I have abandoned many of my vices back in August. Besides, I hope to give birth well before Easter, and I plan on celebrating my first meal without heartburn spoiling it with a nice glass of Merlot.

Since focusing on a project is particularly difficult as of late, during Lent I am going to seriously apply concentration, creativity and effort to this book that I declared to the world would be out by the end of the year.

I know you are all breathless with anticipation.

Barefoot Mardi Gras

Yesterday, Sean took the day off and proceeded to work at the most feverish pace finishing the bathroom remodel (of which he did all himself and is beautiful), painted Oscar/Amy's room, picked up the crib, took the boys to baseball, went to the grocery store and looked at 2 houses for sale with a realtor. I don't know if I've ever been so turned on in my entire life.

With all of this nesting going on--Oscar is 1.5 months away--the dog whisperer's arrival tomorrow comes none too soon. I am out of shoes now completely, and we all wince every time we walk past her. But then every time I have her bowl and leash packed up ready to send her to the Himalayas where she clearly must be better suited, she'll do something absolutely irresistible like curl up with Cricket under her chin, or Amy will attempt to say, "Jingle," and I have to extend her lease for 5 more minutes.

Happy Fat Tuesday--I'm taking full advantage of the day clearly named after me this year.

Introductions

I feel as though I need to give a shout out to my new friends in Chicago. For some strange--but fascinatingly delicious--reason, The Chicago Tribune ran my story this week, complete with the picture of me looking like a stroke victim.

So, um, hello. I'm Tracey, Sub D, and in addition to all of the things you already know about me, I am a Taurus and I like long walks on the beach.

And you?

I really don't care how much it costs

I am currently doing the advanced math on paying an embarrassing amount of money for a dog trainer to come in and help me train this freaking needle-tooth dervish--or whatever breed she really is--or paying to replace the carpets,(she is now chewing holes in the middle of the floor) all of my shoes, (she doesn't chew in pairs, only singles, of course) our clothes, (they all have holes in them at nose height) and child limbs (prosthetics might be expensive, but at least I'll save in Band-Aids and Neosporin.)


Dog trainer it is, then.

An assortment of nonsense

Please do not read the following as a complaint, by any means. Do not read it as anything other than a musing, a bewilderment, an internal query, an observation, or a pondering. Choose whatever adjective you prefer, but definitely not a complaint.

It has been 2 weeks since the article was published and life has changed. Not that I coveted my former low profile and not that I expect such recognition outside the boundaries of Safety Harbor or just my own street even, but losing a level of anonymity is a little strange.

Let me explain. I expected a few friends to comment. I expected a few unexpected people to comment. That about covers my expectations.

What I did not expect was for my garbage cans to be taken in and out because my neighbors read about my pregnancy rather than notice on their own. I did not expect mere acquaintances to save, laminate, or otherwise display my article in any way shape or form. I did not expect my book to be auctioned off for money much higher than the cover price.

And I certainly did not expect to stare back at my own crooked smile when I walked into the exam room at the OB's office. OH MY GOD HOW PERFECTLY DISCONCERTING WHILE IN THE STIRRUPS. It made trying to distract myself by looking at myself while in that horrific position really rather creepy.

It feels like I'm stalking myself. Maybe I should get a restraining order.

******

Anyway, the doctor's visit was a mixed bag. Besides the self-voyeurism, I just have not been feeling all that well, honestly. I'll spare you the symptoms but it's starting to make me a little pensive. But no matter what the test results today show, I have officially started one aspect of my freelance maternity leave, as last night was the last meeting I will cover for a while. When they started speaking of the March agenda, I gratefully thought, Yahoo! I can honestly not give a shit! And none too soon as last night was the single most uncomfortable experience of my life trying to fit and stay still in those plastic folding chairs while fighting off contractions and hot flashes. At one point during a diatribe on the difference between beige and tan exterior paint, I thought my water was going to break. And the sad part is, I knew that not one bastard in that room would drive me to the hospital. They would fail to pass the motion by a 2/3 majority.

The good news was, if such a thing is conceivable at this point, is total weight gain--20 pounds. Approaching the eighth month and 20 pounds. I feel like I want to eat cake or something to celebrate, but then that might prevent future celebrations. But it is Valentine's Day after all, so perhaps a chocolate covered cherry or seven might be appropriate...

Happy Valentine's Day.

Weekend

That was fun. Even though I can't wear my Cheap Trick hoodie for a couple of months, that purchase still made the evening worthwhile. And the Audrey Hepburn reference(as opposed to Lucille Ball whom I thought I resembled in that polka dot dress) made the exorbitant amount of money we spent on the Cheap Trick hoodie and spa pedicure well worth it.

Before Sean left for Asheville today, I made him go to the store with me and we ordered Oscar's crib. At 30 weeks, this is the first purchase I have made toward Oscar's arrival. In fact, with the exception of doctor's visits and drinking Evian by I.V., it is the first physical preparation I have made.

I joke and complain about this pregnancy thing, but truth be told, I am more than a little nervous for the actual birth and the actual Oscar. I know they are normal fears that everyone has, but, I don't know, I just get scared sometimes.

But today was nice. Ordering the crib was a big deal--both mentally and practically. And it was nice. I actually teared up right there in Babies R Us. Matty and Amy helped, and since we didn't know what color sheets to buy, Matty promised that he would go shopping while we were in the hospital so it would be ready when we got home. Then he promptly used the new crib mattress as a wrestling ring, but the good intention was there...Anyway, I am on such a roll, I might just even pre-register at the hospital tomorrow since the forms have been sitting on my desk since September.

Tonight's Auction

I'm trying my best to rally for tonight's festivities. I swear. I know I've been less than enthusiastic the last couple of days, so today I am really making an effort. To prove it, I:

a) am drinking several gallons of water to combat the swelling and ensuing sluggishness.

b) not polishing off the rest of the red velvet cake from Bunko last night to combat the the swelling and ensuing sluggishness.

c) wearing a new outfit and swanky hairdo to combat....

d) am sincerely going to try to take a little nap later to catch up on some sleeplessness and combat, et al...

e) enjoy a night out with good friends tonight.

I love my job

I want to know how often you can use these words in a sentence together in your lifetime: I am interviewing the second professional wrestling star of the week today.

Today's subject is a bit different because she's a former WWE Diva, and while I may beg to differ with her on that title, I won't, because she could kick my ass.

A Perfect Excuse

It looks like I'm going to have to buy 2 new pairs of shoes for myself so the boys can make their Valentine mailboxes for school.

This is so the craft project for me.

Super Bowl

Although our family considers Super Bowl Sunday to be an almost religious holiday, that is not the reason why I didn't attend church this week for the first time since before Advent--a streak I was kind of proud of. No, with Sean off in Miami enjoying the SB festivities, I am holding court solo with Matty who came down with Strep throat this weekend.

At least that has given us a good excuse to hole up for a couple of days--the little ones playing video games, watching movies and eating pudding while I get caught up on writing, reading and neglecting housework--3 of my favorite pastimes.(And eating pudding, but don't tell my O.B.) The week has been amazing with much attention and many unexpected windfalls as a result of the article. Crazy.

We're going to get in one more dose of antibiotic and head over to watch the game with friends with empanadas--another favorite pastime.

Go Colts!