Good Day, Sunshine
Has it really been two months since I have written? Dooce has 200 entries cued in my bloglines, so, yeah, that's about right. How the hell are you all? A few developments since my last entry...
Animal is a kid. That's right. No baby left. She's in a big girl bed, sleeping through the night for the most part. I get to actually sleep next to my husband, and not have the funnity of grasping onto the very edge of the bed while my protruding stomach hangs off and using one hand to fight off a baby that still gets comfort from groping her mother's breasts all night long. Most importantly, it's good for HER. She naps better, wakes up in a good frame of mind (for the most part) and loves her little bed. She's talking in full sentences, complete with articles and correct pronouns, counting to 10 on her own, singing the alphabet up to G correctly and then here and there for the rest of the song (V is her favorite, thank you Elmo.). She's sassy as ever, but so much fun that sometimes I think it might make my husband's head explode. He loves her like no other. So do I.
Baby Two is doing well, I think. He/she's being a trooper, putting up with all of mama's crap. She's squirming around as we speak. I'm enormous and still have almost 6 weeks to go. No, REALLY enormous. I found an OB practice I really like. We did a refresher childbirth class and hospital tour the other night with a few other couples, one of whom included Charlie Sheen's harder-looking twin. He and his wife were a riot. The other couples apparently had large sticks up their arses. NO sense of humor. They were all like "oh, we have a doula" and did NOT find the shrine in the nurse's station to George Clooney amusing at all, whereas I just about wet my pants laughing. Not that wetting my pants is an anomaly these days, but I'm sure that's too much information. Sorry. Anyway, the baby is doing well. I showed Animal some photos of babies in utero at 8 months and told her that was what was in mommy's belly. She stroked the pictures and gave me a kiss and a big hug. She's so stinking sweet. We'll see her ACTUAL reaction when the baby is competing for my attention.
We think we found an apartment we can sort of afford in a nice community. The commute is going to continue to suck for my husband, but he's willing to take one for the team so I can be closer to work, we can find daycare somewhere easy for me and my parents (our only back up) to get to in an emergency, and is in a decent neighborhood for what we can afford. My paycheck is even more minuscule than I had originally anticipated, so the quality of our housing had to be severely downgraded. What's new.
Work is going okay. It's a little like selling your soul to the preservation devil at some points of the day, but in the end I know it's important to have someone there to balance saving cultural resources with practical issues. I spent the last 4 days on field visits in a big, bumpity van with 10 sweaty guys driving to places I never thought I'd see in rural Pennsylvania, holding my bladder and trying not to get carsick. Apparently some poor bastard threw up last week in the van and that's been the talk of the department. I would like to think I'd garner a bit more sympathy as an 8-month old pregnant woman, but somehow I doubt it. They have been stellar about giving up their seats near the front and, with the exception of one particularly nasty project manager who apparently gets off on making people as miserable as he is, about making sure I'm not doing the peepee dance for too long if avoidable. The field visits are interesting. I work for a particularly hated, visible governmental agency, one of which is hated mostly for things I have absolutely no control over. Nonetheless, I am amazed at how many people, particularly in one district, will speed up and aim when faced with a group of workers squashing themselves against a guard rail on a bridge rather than slow down and move over. Nicely done, vehicular drivers of Pennsylvania. You know you are in rural areas when you get out of the van and are greeted by a guard duck. I shit you not. I think it was a goose, but my co-workers disagreed. Later in the day, after we parked in the driveway of a very cute but sadly maintained bungalow owned by, apparently, Ted Kosinski, covered in No Trespassing signs to check out a project, we had a dog turned loose on us. That was fun. WHY we chose that driveway to pull into, I am not quite sure. Not the smartest move we made all day, but we survived. So, I'm settling in. After 6 weeks of commuting a minimum of 4.5 hours a day for training, I am moving into my district office. I still have to go back to Harrisburg for training over the next few weeks, but more of my time will be at the district office between now and my due date, so that should lighten my load a bit.
Well, it's time for me to hit the shower and get to work. My poor mother is up and ready to take Animal when she awakens. At least it's a reasonable hour this morning. Have a good one, people. I miss you.
Animal is a kid. That's right. No baby left. She's in a big girl bed, sleeping through the night for the most part. I get to actually sleep next to my husband, and not have the funnity of grasping onto the very edge of the bed while my protruding stomach hangs off and using one hand to fight off a baby that still gets comfort from groping her mother's breasts all night long. Most importantly, it's good for HER. She naps better, wakes up in a good frame of mind (for the most part) and loves her little bed. She's talking in full sentences, complete with articles and correct pronouns, counting to 10 on her own, singing the alphabet up to G correctly and then here and there for the rest of the song (V is her favorite, thank you Elmo.). She's sassy as ever, but so much fun that sometimes I think it might make my husband's head explode. He loves her like no other. So do I.
Baby Two is doing well, I think. He/she's being a trooper, putting up with all of mama's crap. She's squirming around as we speak. I'm enormous and still have almost 6 weeks to go. No, REALLY enormous. I found an OB practice I really like. We did a refresher childbirth class and hospital tour the other night with a few other couples, one of whom included Charlie Sheen's harder-looking twin. He and his wife were a riot. The other couples apparently had large sticks up their arses. NO sense of humor. They were all like "oh, we have a doula" and did NOT find the shrine in the nurse's station to George Clooney amusing at all, whereas I just about wet my pants laughing. Not that wetting my pants is an anomaly these days, but I'm sure that's too much information. Sorry. Anyway, the baby is doing well. I showed Animal some photos of babies in utero at 8 months and told her that was what was in mommy's belly. She stroked the pictures and gave me a kiss and a big hug. She's so stinking sweet. We'll see her ACTUAL reaction when the baby is competing for my attention.
We think we found an apartment we can sort of afford in a nice community. The commute is going to continue to suck for my husband, but he's willing to take one for the team so I can be closer to work, we can find daycare somewhere easy for me and my parents (our only back up) to get to in an emergency, and is in a decent neighborhood for what we can afford. My paycheck is even more minuscule than I had originally anticipated, so the quality of our housing had to be severely downgraded. What's new.
Work is going okay. It's a little like selling your soul to the preservation devil at some points of the day, but in the end I know it's important to have someone there to balance saving cultural resources with practical issues. I spent the last 4 days on field visits in a big, bumpity van with 10 sweaty guys driving to places I never thought I'd see in rural Pennsylvania, holding my bladder and trying not to get carsick. Apparently some poor bastard threw up last week in the van and that's been the talk of the department. I would like to think I'd garner a bit more sympathy as an 8-month old pregnant woman, but somehow I doubt it. They have been stellar about giving up their seats near the front and, with the exception of one particularly nasty project manager who apparently gets off on making people as miserable as he is, about making sure I'm not doing the peepee dance for too long if avoidable. The field visits are interesting. I work for a particularly hated, visible governmental agency, one of which is hated mostly for things I have absolutely no control over. Nonetheless, I am amazed at how many people, particularly in one district, will speed up and aim when faced with a group of workers squashing themselves against a guard rail on a bridge rather than slow down and move over. Nicely done, vehicular drivers of Pennsylvania. You know you are in rural areas when you get out of the van and are greeted by a guard duck. I shit you not. I think it was a goose, but my co-workers disagreed. Later in the day, after we parked in the driveway of a very cute but sadly maintained bungalow owned by, apparently, Ted Kosinski, covered in No Trespassing signs to check out a project, we had a dog turned loose on us. That was fun. WHY we chose that driveway to pull into, I am not quite sure. Not the smartest move we made all day, but we survived. So, I'm settling in. After 6 weeks of commuting a minimum of 4.5 hours a day for training, I am moving into my district office. I still have to go back to Harrisburg for training over the next few weeks, but more of my time will be at the district office between now and my due date, so that should lighten my load a bit.
Well, it's time for me to hit the shower and get to work. My poor mother is up and ready to take Animal when she awakens. At least it's a reasonable hour this morning. Have a good one, people. I miss you.
posted by Kris at 4:41 AM
1 Comments:
...lol...
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