To be (a boy) or not to be (a boy)...

On Christmas Eve we had our first ultrasound. We knew it was too early to tell what the sex of the baby was. But, we hoped someone would be able to tell us anyway. The pictures showed a small perfect baby and that was enough of a Christmas gift for the rest of my life. But then we saw in the fuzzy picture a little white protrusion that looked like it may be growing into a penis. My husband and I would never want one sex over the other. Our little girl has brought us so much pure joy that we would be ecstatic to have another girl. But the curiosity looms... what would our son be like? Well, we may be finding out the answer to that question soon. I have more ultrasounds scheduled and during one of them I have a feeling that we will hear the words with confidence that, "IT'S A BOY!"

Merry Craziness!!

Let the craziness begin. Today I have my daughter at work, have to leave work early to finish Christmas shopping and get her nap in, clean my house a little for Monday so I'm not overwhelmed when I get back from a trip to my Grandmother's house 4 and a half hours away. Whew. I'm tired just typing it.
Merry Christmas everyone. May you make some great memories, feel the spirit of the holiday and get some great gifts!!

Great quote of an office dweller...

"my thunder thighs are causing me poor circulation in my legs due to sitting on my ass all day in this chair - I think I need to quit for medical reasons."

Thanks Amy G.

I think I will make this a regular segment on my blog. There are a lot of funny things said in the office to cut the tension.

Nausea alphabet

These are things that make me nauseous from A-Z. I've been wanting to do this for a while...

a- apple (as of yesterday), apricot scrub
b- broccoli
c- cat drool (you don't have to be preg to hate that)
d- dish detergent
e- enormous crowds of people
f- farts
g- garbage cans
h- hairspray
i- incense
j- jello with fruit inside
k- Kellogg's cereal
l- laundry detergent
m- meat (mostly preparing it)
n- nutty bars
o- over eating
p- perfume
q- quarrelling with my stepmother
r- running
s- shampoo
t- Tyson chicken fingers
u- underpants that aren't mine
v- Volkswagen beetle (older models) exhaust, vitamins
w- wrapping presents
x- (nothing comes to mind)
y- yelling from someone other than me
z- zealous parents

I hope this passes soon. I need to move on and eat more meat. That's why I fainted last time, I think.

"You do what works and you teach people how to treat you." -Dr. Phil

I love Dr. Phil for many reasons but the first one is his blunt and honest ways of cutting through bull and putting things into perspective.
As my hormones fluctuate and I encounter very annoying events, I ask myself,"is this OK with me?" And, if the answer is NO, I fight back.
This week has actually been very rough for me. My returned energy has made me feisty against people who push their ills on me and treat me bad.
It always baffles me that we treat those who love us far worse than those we hardly know. It comes with the territory, I guess, of being so close to people that they have a chance to hurt us.
This week I let out a lot of frustration. It was like the old me before I was married with children. I used to assert what I thought in selfish ways to keep people from trampling on me. I did it everywhere. Looking back... it was out of anger. Anger that people would think a young person can be bamboozled, that a girl was a 2nd class citizen, and anger that I was hurting and I was expected to change when the problem wasn't me.
I still deal with this but when you are pregnant, extremely sober and quite the workhorse... it bubbles up aggressively.

My pregnant body #3

Splat! Ker plunk! I fell flat on the floor, bruising my tailbone on the way down. Last week I took a little spill at the Gastonia permit office while I was waiting in line. I felt queasy, got lightheaded and then the lights went out. I fainted! It was very scary but all is well now. I was just a little sore.
I think I have gotten back a little of my old energy. That's a relief. I was zonked all the time.
There have been some pukey spells and my ever encouraging Mom swears "you're more like I was when I was pregnant with you...I puked for 9 months." I better not puke for nine months. That's all I have to say about that.
Things are great with Bella. She is showing how close she is coming to age two. She runs around aimlessly spending up her energy as wildly as possible. It's really cute.
Well that's all for now. I am going to try harder to keep up with my blog. I miss it.

Passions

His voice punches through the noises in the gym while coaching his wrestler to "get hand control." The gym is bouncing with energy. Four teams are going at each other with full force. He loves this. The energy and the drama. He remembers that boy was the state runner up last year at such and such school and wrestled so and so. He needs this to keep him young and sane and connected.
When Tommy coaches he channels his love and experience of wrestling into sweet rewarding victories and comradery that comes with being a model for athletic teen boys.
I want that.
I want to go somewhere to scream and sweat and jump or run and passionately spill over with energy and calorie burning to do what I love.
There is something about being a mother that holds one back. It's not the child or the need to be with her, it's the availability of me.
I am not that available.
Bella will not sit in a nursery while Mommy does (fill in the blank.)

(For the record this is not where I thought this post would go.)

The mommy that I am feels guilty having someone babysit her child while she goes to get her daily sweat. The few hours I get with her during the day are sweet but packed full enough that there is little breathing room in our "schedule."
But, Tommy's schedule is what it is and I am expected, though by no fault of Tommy, to handle it and unless there is a dire emergency there is no need to change. Right?
Wrong.
I need something.
Something to get out the anger built up from some dysfunctions in my life, the job that I choose, the daily aggravation with driving in Charlotte and waiting for everyone to take their time while I rush to please everyone else but me.
Boy am I ranting or what?
That's all.
That's enough for me to get out of my system for now.
Don't worry I'm pretty sure I know what the answer is to all this.
Just renew the dang membership and sit the baby in the nursery for as long as she will put up with it and work it out.
Stationary biking and elliptical riding are my fantasy lately because I feel like my muscles are one by one deflating and dying.
All that work at Funky Fit last Spring and Summer down the drain.
FYI... Funky Fit is the best thing since the juice bar at my gym. The instructors teach you to boogie to hip hop music while you sweat your ___ off. It's not great for preggy people though.