Many years from now, my son or daughter will come to me with the age old questions:
How do you know you're in love? How do you know when someone is "the one?"
And I will tell them:
Does their happiness mean more to you than your own? Are they the first thing you think about when you wake up in the morning, and the last thing you think about when you go to sleep?
Will they be the one standing right beside you, holding your hand during the unexpected trip to the emergency room? Will they be the first one to cheer your accomplishments, the first one to comfort you in times of saddess or failure? Will they be in the doctor's office when you're given bad news, and, once outside the doctor's office, will they hold you while you cry? Would you do the same for them?
It's love when you watch them get sick, then clean up the mess without a second thought. It's love when you serve them the last piece of pie. It's love when you give them the TV remote control.
You're in love when you have seen all the other person's faults and shortcomings, and in spite of, or maybe because of them, you still can't imagine your life without them.
You're in love when you'd rather end the argument and make up than be proven right.
You'll know they're the one because after meeting them, you will feel like a whole person -- that the missing half of you has finally been found, and you'll never take that forgranted.
Mostly, I will smile and tell them, "You'll just know. The same way your Dad and I did."
Monday, May 25, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
8 Weeks and Counting!
As of Thursday, we only have 8 weeks until Baby Big arrives, so we are trying to get the rest of the baby chores done. We have a meet and greet with a pediatrican at the beginning of the week, a birthing class later on in the week, and some final touches to complete the nursery. Eight weeks still seem like a long ways away to me, but then again, this last week flew by at an alarming rate, so maybe it will pass quicker than I think.
Big Dave and I did find out some distressing news, though. Turns out, I have gestational diabetes. So we have to go back for a consult visit with the Shands people and meet with a dietician to develop a new diet plan for me. Just what I didn't need or want, but at least it was caught early enough so that with diet changes the baby and I should be fine. At this point, they don't see insulin being needed. And after I deliver, the diabetes should disappear too. The most distressing thing about it all, though, is that subsequent pregnanies, if any, are at higher risk for diabetes as well. Disappointing news, but at least everything still seems to be right on target with Baby Big.
Our last ultrasound was on Saturday, and Baby Big weighed in at 4 lbs 1 oz (according to the size of the femur). With 8 weeks to go, and the baby gaining about a 1/2 pound a week, he/she is expected to be around 8 pounds at birth. Oh boy.
Also on Saturday Big Dave and I had some professional pregnancy photos taken. They show off the pregnant belly, and will probably be the last photos of "just the two of us". We'll be emailing those out later on in the week, as well as the best of the ultrasound photos, so keep an eye open for 'em!
Big Dave and I did find out some distressing news, though. Turns out, I have gestational diabetes. So we have to go back for a consult visit with the Shands people and meet with a dietician to develop a new diet plan for me. Just what I didn't need or want, but at least it was caught early enough so that with diet changes the baby and I should be fine. At this point, they don't see insulin being needed. And after I deliver, the diabetes should disappear too. The most distressing thing about it all, though, is that subsequent pregnanies, if any, are at higher risk for diabetes as well. Disappointing news, but at least everything still seems to be right on target with Baby Big.
Our last ultrasound was on Saturday, and Baby Big weighed in at 4 lbs 1 oz (according to the size of the femur). With 8 weeks to go, and the baby gaining about a 1/2 pound a week, he/she is expected to be around 8 pounds at birth. Oh boy.
Also on Saturday Big Dave and I had some professional pregnancy photos taken. They show off the pregnant belly, and will probably be the last photos of "just the two of us". We'll be emailing those out later on in the week, as well as the best of the ultrasound photos, so keep an eye open for 'em!
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Why I Dislike Doctors
A group of doctors got together one day for lunch. They started discussing some of their more interesting cases when one doctor brought the subject of pregnant women.
"You know, I've noticed that women go through a lot during their pregnancies, what with morning sickness, aches, pains, heartburn, etc. But I don't think they go through nearly enough. Is there any way we can make it more difficult for them?"
A second doctor chimed in. "Why, you know I believe I have the answer. I've developed a blood test for pregnant women to test their glucose levels."
The third doctor asked, "But what is so difficult about a simple blood test?"
The second doctor smirked, then said patronizingly, "It's not a simple test. First, I tell the women they cannot eat any food for 12 hours."
The first doctor said, "Oh, that's good. A pregnant women who doesn't eat for 12 hours. If she's not nauseous enough, she soon would be. Brilliant!"
The second doctor continued. "Then, when her stomach is churning and complaining, I make her drink a very syrupy glucose mixture that tastes horrible and gives her heartburn while it travels to the stomach."
The fourth doctor smiled. "That's absolutely cruel and mean. And I like it!"
The second doctor continued. "But wait. The best part is yet to come. While she is getting sick from the drink, she must have blood drawn."
The first doctor gaped in admiration. "You mean you stick a needle into her while she's trying to keep from tossing her cookies? Now THAT's a great idea!"
The second doctor bowed his head in modesty. "But not just once. She must have blood drawn every hour for THREE hours. And she must have blood drawn at the beginning of the whole ordeal. So she must be stuck FOUR times in three hours."
The other doctors around the table start applauding. A chorus of "well done!" "bravo" and "good show old man!" can be heard from across the room.
After the noise dies down, the fourth doctor asked, "And after all that, what do you do for an encore?"
The second doctor cackled maniacally and said, "Why, I make her pay an outrageous sum of money for the privilege, of course!"
The table exploded with more laughter. Then all the doctors sit back and relax.
Yes, a capital idea, they were all thinking. It's amazing what one can learn from one's peers.
Now, it's possible I could have make up the preceding conversation.
It's possible that the doctor who developed the three hour glucose test wasn't a maniacal, evil, Nazi-like little gnome. I have no proof that he was.
But then again, I have no proof that he wasn't, either.
"You know, I've noticed that women go through a lot during their pregnancies, what with morning sickness, aches, pains, heartburn, etc. But I don't think they go through nearly enough. Is there any way we can make it more difficult for them?"
A second doctor chimed in. "Why, you know I believe I have the answer. I've developed a blood test for pregnant women to test their glucose levels."
The third doctor asked, "But what is so difficult about a simple blood test?"
The second doctor smirked, then said patronizingly, "It's not a simple test. First, I tell the women they cannot eat any food for 12 hours."
The first doctor said, "Oh, that's good. A pregnant women who doesn't eat for 12 hours. If she's not nauseous enough, she soon would be. Brilliant!"
The second doctor continued. "Then, when her stomach is churning and complaining, I make her drink a very syrupy glucose mixture that tastes horrible and gives her heartburn while it travels to the stomach."
The fourth doctor smiled. "That's absolutely cruel and mean. And I like it!"
The second doctor continued. "But wait. The best part is yet to come. While she is getting sick from the drink, she must have blood drawn."
The first doctor gaped in admiration. "You mean you stick a needle into her while she's trying to keep from tossing her cookies? Now THAT's a great idea!"
The second doctor bowed his head in modesty. "But not just once. She must have blood drawn every hour for THREE hours. And she must have blood drawn at the beginning of the whole ordeal. So she must be stuck FOUR times in three hours."
The other doctors around the table start applauding. A chorus of "well done!" "bravo" and "good show old man!" can be heard from across the room.
After the noise dies down, the fourth doctor asked, "And after all that, what do you do for an encore?"
The second doctor cackled maniacally and said, "Why, I make her pay an outrageous sum of money for the privilege, of course!"
The table exploded with more laughter. Then all the doctors sit back and relax.
Yes, a capital idea, they were all thinking. It's amazing what one can learn from one's peers.
Now, it's possible I could have make up the preceding conversation.
It's possible that the doctor who developed the three hour glucose test wasn't a maniacal, evil, Nazi-like little gnome. I have no proof that he was.
But then again, I have no proof that he wasn't, either.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
A Last Hurrah
Big Dave and I spent the last few days in St. Augustine, as a last just-the-two-of-us vacation before Baby Big arrives. The weather was perfect, and we had a great time, walking the "old city" section and eating our way from one end of the city to the other. I finally had the opportunity to try some gelatto (an Italian ice cream), and enjoyed some chocolate from both Kilwin's and Rocky Mountain Candy Factory. We toured Flagler College and the old Castillo de San Marcos fort. We also went on two ghost tours (you can't visit the oldest city in the US without going on at least one ghost tour). But since I get tired very easily, we had to limit our daily excursions, so we also spent a lot of time around the hotel pool. The pool was Baby Big approved.
The next few weeks will be busy with birthing classes, dr's visits (our next ultrasound is in mid-May), and final preparations in the nursery. We'll also start interviewing for pediatricians. I get tired just thinking about it all! : )
Meanwhile, the furry kids have been teaming up to try to break into the nursery. They see us bringing new items into the room, and they see us spending more and more time in the room (which used to be the guest room), so naturally they want to investigate this strange turn of events. When they see us head for the room, they bolt for the door, and try to squeeze their way through once the door is opened. You woudn't think an 18 pound cat would try to squeeze through an a 2 inch opening, but try they do. They are slowly getting the idea that they will not be allowed in the room, but they are very resentful for now. But once that room is occupied by a crying infant, I don't think it will take much to convince them to stay away. One whiff of a smelly diaper, and the romance will be gone.
The next few weeks will be busy with birthing classes, dr's visits (our next ultrasound is in mid-May), and final preparations in the nursery. We'll also start interviewing for pediatricians. I get tired just thinking about it all! : )
Meanwhile, the furry kids have been teaming up to try to break into the nursery. They see us bringing new items into the room, and they see us spending more and more time in the room (which used to be the guest room), so naturally they want to investigate this strange turn of events. When they see us head for the room, they bolt for the door, and try to squeeze their way through once the door is opened. You woudn't think an 18 pound cat would try to squeeze through an a 2 inch opening, but try they do. They are slowly getting the idea that they will not be allowed in the room, but they are very resentful for now. But once that room is occupied by a crying infant, I don't think it will take much to convince them to stay away. One whiff of a smelly diaper, and the romance will be gone.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Back to School
Tonight Big Dave and I will be attending a baby care class, courtesy of the hospital where I will be delivering. The class is designed to show parents the proper care and feeding of their newborn. Since Big Dave and I know nothing about this subject, it will be interesting to see how we fare compared to the other parents-to-be. I will be documenting Big Dave's attempts at diaper changing, and possibly posting the results on YouTube. He in turn will videotape my attempts at swaddling. It probably won't be pretty, but it will be highly amusing for everyone else.
We have not set foot in a classroom since we graduated college, many years ago. Will there be homework? Will it be a pass/fail, where you can't take the baby home until you master the art of burping? I hope not, or I think we're screwed.
The class is only one night, but it's three hours long. How can we possibly learn everything we need to learn about infants in three hours??!?! Do we come home and practice on our other "kids"? Start diapering the dog? Spoon feed and burp the cats?
I know a large part of parenting is simply getting in there and doing it. Once the kid is home, hopefully the thousand-year-old hard-wired motherly instincts will kick in and I'll be able to do all the things required. Or, maybe my wires will short out and the kid will take one look at me and think, "Can you really be THAT incompetent?" Yes. Yes I can.
We have not set foot in a classroom since we graduated college, many years ago. Will there be homework? Will it be a pass/fail, where you can't take the baby home until you master the art of burping? I hope not, or I think we're screwed.
The class is only one night, but it's three hours long. How can we possibly learn everything we need to learn about infants in three hours??!?! Do we come home and practice on our other "kids"? Start diapering the dog? Spoon feed and burp the cats?
I know a large part of parenting is simply getting in there and doing it. Once the kid is home, hopefully the thousand-year-old hard-wired motherly instincts will kick in and I'll be able to do all the things required. Or, maybe my wires will short out and the kid will take one look at me and think, "Can you really be THAT incompetent?" Yes. Yes I can.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Cat Wars Episode 6,729
We have a lot of empty boxes in our house right now, thanks to the arrival of various nursery items. The boxes range in size from very large and narrow (crib) to small and square (breast pump). No matter what the size, no matter how much packing material is jammed inside, the cats have declared civil war in an effort to determine who gets which box. It doesn't matter that there are more boxes than cats, and that each cat could easily claim 2 boxes as their own.
I'll set the scene for you. Picture it:
The Living Room. 10:30 am. Empty boxes lined up along 2 walls. Four cats are eyeing the boxes with mild interest. They creep closer. Investigate. Their interest increases. Test the flaps to see if getting inside the box is possible. One cat successfully manages to enter a box. The others are now jealous. They try to follow suit, only to be stopped by Cat #1, who insists box belongs to him. Boxing matches ensue. Tempers flare. Then another cat realizes "hey, there are other boxes here. I'm going to check it out. You guys can argue. I'm outta here." From the nursery (where we are hard at work putting together the crib), we hear a crash, then the sound of a cat trying to unsuccessfully run fast on terrazzo flooring. We hear the thuds as the cat crashes into chairs, walls, and finally silence. I come out to investigate. What used to be a tidy pile of boxes along one wall has now become the scene of a natural disaster. Boxes are everywhere. Packing material covers the couches, and 3 suspects are hiding under a blanket. They each try to maintain an innocent look, but fail miserably. The 4th suspect is nowhere to be found, but assumed to be on the lam.
I return to the nursery to give an update on the condition of the living room. Husband stops work on crib. Sighs. Asks "Why don't we use some of the boxes to package up the those demon spawns and send them to Guam? Life would be much simplier." I think about it for a minute. Tempted. Sorely tempted. But then I remind hubby that it would probably be illegal, and the cost of shipping would be substantial.
He sighs again. "Yeah, you're probably right." He continues work. A few minutes pass. Then he look up at me again. "You know, they're probably just training us for what we can expect with a toddler."
Oh no.
I'll set the scene for you. Picture it:
The Living Room. 10:30 am. Empty boxes lined up along 2 walls. Four cats are eyeing the boxes with mild interest. They creep closer. Investigate. Their interest increases. Test the flaps to see if getting inside the box is possible. One cat successfully manages to enter a box. The others are now jealous. They try to follow suit, only to be stopped by Cat #1, who insists box belongs to him. Boxing matches ensue. Tempers flare. Then another cat realizes "hey, there are other boxes here. I'm going to check it out. You guys can argue. I'm outta here." From the nursery (where we are hard at work putting together the crib), we hear a crash, then the sound of a cat trying to unsuccessfully run fast on terrazzo flooring. We hear the thuds as the cat crashes into chairs, walls, and finally silence. I come out to investigate. What used to be a tidy pile of boxes along one wall has now become the scene of a natural disaster. Boxes are everywhere. Packing material covers the couches, and 3 suspects are hiding under a blanket. They each try to maintain an innocent look, but fail miserably. The 4th suspect is nowhere to be found, but assumed to be on the lam.
I return to the nursery to give an update on the condition of the living room. Husband stops work on crib. Sighs. Asks "Why don't we use some of the boxes to package up the those demon spawns and send them to Guam? Life would be much simplier." I think about it for a minute. Tempted. Sorely tempted. But then I remind hubby that it would probably be illegal, and the cost of shipping would be substantial.
He sighs again. "Yeah, you're probably right." He continues work. A few minutes pass. Then he look up at me again. "You know, they're probably just training us for what we can expect with a toddler."
Oh no.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Crazy Thoughts
This morning Big Dave sent me a link to a movie trailer. He thought it would be something we could see this weekend. Since he was having some trouble making sure the email went through, he logged onto my email to verify the link was there. While in my email account, he observed a little box in the corner which stated something like, "Someone has a crush on you. Click here to find out who!"
He called me into the office. "Hey, babe, come check out your email. There's something you should see." He had a funny look on his face.
I waddled in. "What is it?"
"Something interesting you might want to check out."
I sat down at the laptop, and checked the date. Yep, April 1st. "It's not an April Fools joke or anything, is it?" I eyed him suspiciously.
"I don't think so." He paused for a second. "I'm not sure."
"So it's not something you sent me?"
"No, I had nothing to do with it."
So I opened up my email and saw the box. "Crush? What in the world?"
He leaned over my shoulder. "So someone has a crush on my wife. This should be interesting."
"This has got to be some mistake. No one I know would have a crush on me, and if it's a stranger, they can stay unknown to me."
"Go ahead and click. Let's see who it is."
Turns out, it was a banner ad for a new type of dating/singles forum. I knew there was a logical explanation. But the funniest part of the whole thing was the look of enormous relief on Big Dave's face when he realized it was nothing.
That shocked me. Here sat my best friend and the love of my life, the father of my child, the fixer of my computer, and he could actually think for one millisecond that I might EVER entertain the notion of being with anyone else.
"You didn't actually think I would ever step out on you, did you?" I laughed.
He smiled sheepishly. Then rubbed my bulging 6-month belly. "I would hope not."
"Babe, you know better than that. Why would I go out for hamburger when I have filet mignon at home?" I kissed him.
He grinned. "Just wanted to make sure." He left the room.
While most of me was suprised at his reaction, a small part of me was pleased. After 15 years together, he still got jealous.
What a crazy world!
He called me into the office. "Hey, babe, come check out your email. There's something you should see." He had a funny look on his face.
I waddled in. "What is it?"
"Something interesting you might want to check out."
I sat down at the laptop, and checked the date. Yep, April 1st. "It's not an April Fools joke or anything, is it?" I eyed him suspiciously.
"I don't think so." He paused for a second. "I'm not sure."
"So it's not something you sent me?"
"No, I had nothing to do with it."
So I opened up my email and saw the box. "Crush? What in the world?"
He leaned over my shoulder. "So someone has a crush on my wife. This should be interesting."
"This has got to be some mistake. No one I know would have a crush on me, and if it's a stranger, they can stay unknown to me."
"Go ahead and click. Let's see who it is."
Turns out, it was a banner ad for a new type of dating/singles forum. I knew there was a logical explanation. But the funniest part of the whole thing was the look of enormous relief on Big Dave's face when he realized it was nothing.
That shocked me. Here sat my best friend and the love of my life, the father of my child, the fixer of my computer, and he could actually think for one millisecond that I might EVER entertain the notion of being with anyone else.
"You didn't actually think I would ever step out on you, did you?" I laughed.
He smiled sheepishly. Then rubbed my bulging 6-month belly. "I would hope not."
"Babe, you know better than that. Why would I go out for hamburger when I have filet mignon at home?" I kissed him.
He grinned. "Just wanted to make sure." He left the room.
While most of me was suprised at his reaction, a small part of me was pleased. After 15 years together, he still got jealous.
What a crazy world!
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