Reality check - a 'green' baby

At Walmart today I found myself squatting down, uberly excited that I had found the bottles that I wanted and cheaper than what I had priced them out!

Leaving the fact that I was squatting (yes my belly now rests nicely between my legs), I threw the bottles in my basket (along with the most adorable little headbands that were necessary in case she doesn't look like a she), and I headed for the check out with my items and my big bag of reeses pieces (which upon writing this sentence I remembered I still had half a bag in my purse and I had to go get them).

Upon my arrival home, I realized that my plans on having a green/eco friendly pregnancy and baby have been sent with the wind... Not only had I ate a half bag of reeses pieces (not the little bag either) on my way home, but somehow convenience with this child has become more of a priority than being eco friendly. I bought bottles that have the drop in liners so that I don't have to constantly sanitize bottles (the package even includes an adapter so that you can use the liners with a breast pump).

Prior to becoming pregnant I often questioned how some pregant women were not able to: eat right, exercise, quit smoking and not earn the nick name heffer. Further to this , why weren't new mommies sucking it up, breast feeding, using cloth diapers, glass bottles, using organic cotton clothing on their new borns and reusing products that others had so graciously passed down to them?

Ha Ha. Then I got pregnant... My vain hopes of eating all my greens, oranges and omega's were quickly flushed down the toilet along with my morning spew. I had given up alcohol, prime times, and the ability to feel normal in my own body... I was going to eat my chocolate as much as I wanted (and still do) and nobody better say anything about it... Not saying that I eat bad, but my husband does attribute the weight that I have gained more to the cookie and cupcake consumption than to the 2 pound person growing inside of me... and I tend to agree, but since my weight gain is "right on track," I say bring on the hot fudge sundae's!

I also admit that I wasn't pregnant for more than a day before I decided that using cloth diapers was going to be way to much work for this military wife (here's for hoping that she isn't allergic to disposables)... and DH (Dear Husband) and I quickly began stocking up on diapers in a variety of sizes - the last thing we need is me making a homemade diaper out of paper towel and duct tape.

We were eco when we bought our solid wood nursery set second hand, and our travel system (which I later sold because I am a spoiled brat)... but I did get a "new" second hand travel system that was pink and much more worth it... I did want solid wood in the nursery and DH wanted me to go easy on the bank account :) However, I do think this was my last attempt to be eco friendly. Why buy used when there is so much new stuff I can buy?

When the subject of drop in bottle liners was first brought up by a friend, I thought no way! Such a waste... and then I thought about the time that I will save should my ginormous chest not be able to produce milk to breast feed (seriously though, if it doesn't then why did I go through all these months of back pain?)... and today I bought my drop-in liner bottle system, which is sitting in the box right next to the box of disposable boob pads :)

.... Now for more of an update... today marks month number 6 of my pregnancy, only 3 more to go until my due date! I am also officially 27 weeks pregnant which is wayyyyy better than that half way mile stone that people told me about only a few weeks ago... I can now see the end!

I have also realized that I am really, really pregnant. Each week I take a picture of my explanding belly but it wasn't until just this weekend that I realized how fat I really am... Fat in a good way, like phat. I think it is because my bust is growing with my belly and it makes it look much smaller... But then I looked back to my week number six picture and realized that I am a heffer :) a pretty heffer, but a heffer at that :)... On the bright side I now think that my pre-pregnancy belly should have been appreciated more than what it was. It was quite nice :)

Lessons learned on my way to trimester number three

I definitely don't feel as big as I look

So I have not so gracefully made it to my third trimester, where I now feel like a count down can begin. Only 97 days until my due date!

For the most part I know I have been the pregnancy monster, or at least appeared that way to many of my friends, family and the poor telemarketers that get to deal with me, but with trimester number three now beginning I have made a resolution (kind of like a new years resolution) - I'm resolving to be as nice as possible (as nice as possible means that I am allowed slip ups).... No worries to you regular blog readers though, I promise to continue to entertain you with constant gripes about my pregnancy and other raves and rants :)

However, to start out my new trimester resolution I am going to fill you all in on a few things that I have learned... here I go!

I have learned...

- that being pregnant isn't always that bad. It took me a trip to NS to realize this. I have never been fed so well by my friends (deer meat, steak, countless deserts, amazing breakfasts), shown so much love by the women in my life and have never had so many of their men be extremely, over the top nice to me (why yes you can carry my ridiculously large suitcase up the stairs).

- that not all baby showers are lame (when planned by my mama bear and with the help of great friends they actually rock!).

- that unconditional friendship really does exist (a special shout out to my Petawawa friends that had to deal with me during the hell trimester - in case you don't remember hell was trimester 1).

- that no one better try to steal a pregnant woman's food (may I repeat this more clearly. If you are going to take me around people that you like and want to stay friends with, then warn them not to touch my food - I almost stabbed a man at the Mustache in Halifax with my fork when he tried to take my brownie).

- that my DH (dear husband) truly does have thick skin, lots of patience and unconditional love for me (he would have to in order to put up with my never ending emotional roller coaster rides that always ends with me in tears and him wondering why I am crying yet again).

- that I really can't live without my telephone... how else would I get my reminders from my friends with chillins that what I am going through really isn't normal, but it does happen to most pregnant women and the sain ones believe the symptoms are mother natures way of giving us the finger... this is in reference to the mood swings, dry skin, constipation (yes, I am once again saying something that should be shhhh'd), pimples, inability to see body parts, etc.

- that when my daughter gets old enough to even consider having sex that I will not scare her into not having it with talks about STDs or what her father will do to any boy she attempts it with. I will simply sit her down and tell her my version of what can happen if you get pregnant (it's not like getting a cabage patch doll and reading the adoption card - you have to be pregnant first and with that comes.... at this point I will give her all of my blog entries to read).

- that this blog has been better then any therapy I have ever had... bitching and moaning about everything and having people love you for it is great! (how do I make a career out of this?)

- that despite all of the wonderful relationships in my life that chocolate really has become my favourite... what else am I supposed to do when I can't drink, smoke, or bounce on a trampoline (I know this doesn't fit, but I needed a third thing that I couldn't do and frankly I am jelous of the kids on the trampolines)....

And I think that is enough for now.... Love and happy thoughts to all that have put up with me so far.

A vision

Here I thought that my first blog upon returning to Petawawa from the beautiful NS would be about my fabulous shower and fabulous trip. I was even going to be very positive... But then today happened and I decided that I needed a venue to vent my frustrations, thus changing my mind.

Arriving back to Petawawa after a glorious, yet exhausting trip to NS, I was slightly disappointed to find that my pooch had come down with an ear infection - the most likely result of being fed wayyy too much wheat while I was away. What part of "Emma's allergic to wheat," do people not understand? Whatever. I have also been a culprit of giving her way to much of the many things she is not supposed to have. However, it is nonetheless frustrating.

I tried to clean her ears out in the vain hope that I could avoid a trip to the vet, and the unsightly bill ($250), but upon closer inspection realized that her ears were a mess and that a vet visit would be needed sooner than later (I was trying to postpone our next visit to May when I could get her prepped for heart worm (misquito) season....

After realizing that DH had yet to get our leash back after he loaned it out on the weekend (yes this means our dog has not been walked for nearly a week), I had to put the cat leash on the dog... no we don't own a cat, but the thin leash was great when she was small enough to fit in my lap... This thin leash meant no choke collar. Not that I am a fan of choking the brains out of my dog, but it does the job.

Arriving at the vet Emma wouldn't listen to my commands to stay in the car, as I tried to reach around her for my purse. I struggled with one arm to keep her in until invited to come out. Finally, I gave up, let her out of the car and she whipped me around in a full cirlce, stepping on my toe with her ridiculously sharp claws and b-lining it for the steps.

Once inside the vet office, my arm straining from having to hold onto her by her collar because the stupid thin leash kept cutting into my hand, I struggled to hold back my hormonal tears and reached for the phone and did the military wife no no. I called my DH at work and asked for help... but of course he could not leave the office to come and bring me a stronger leash, a choke collar and his mean daddy voice. I knew this before I even dialed. It was a weak moment.

So there I sat waiting, and praying that the doctor would soon come out to take Emma in, with a tight grip and my mean mommy voice saying "Emma sit, Emma stay, Emma stop," every two seconds. When we were finally called into the office Emma did her normal "I'm cute, so love me," act and the doctor looked at me like I was crazy for looking so stressed out.

Once out of the office I took Emma to the car before I payed for the visit... On my return back to the car I had an oh $hit moment... Driving back to my home the vision came, Emma and the vet with the baby. How will this task be completed without an army of dog walkers and baby sitters to assist me?

Then I began to think of what it will be like just to take the baby to the doctor. OH NO. And later a toddler... People will still look at me like I am crazy, DH won't be around to assist me when I have toddler throwing a tantrum, or a colic baby.... and they don't offer choke chains for babies... How many years will it be before I can turn off the mean mommy voice? Is it okay to change my mind about not wanting to be one of those parents who has a child leash? (I am now seeing the logistics in this device).

So like the good wife that I am I realized that it could definitely be worse and most likely will be by this time next year. I then sent a text message to DH apologizing for essentially not following military wife protocol (especially over the dog!).... Oh hormones, how you literally toy with my emotions.

Where are my feet?

It all started a few weeks ago with the underwear. One day I was looking for them and they had disappeared, and it wasn't as if I didn't know where I had put them. Each time I looked over my shoulder I could find them. Actually when I looked behind me they were right where I left them... But when I looked in the usual spot I could not seem to find them - covering up the mustin't touch!... Well no, that is wrong. They were still covering it, but I could no longer see them when I looked down.

What made it even worse was that a few days after I realized that they were MIA, DH (dear husband), asked me "can you even see your underwear when you look down?" Which I now thank goodness that I was in a good mood, because a comment like that is very likely to send me into an ugly cry tirade... but I just laughed and went back in the bedroom to look at myself in the mirror (not only to look at my ever expanding belly, but to confirm that DH wasn't trying to trick me into thinking that I actually had underwear on - maybe I had forgotten that day and had spent our whole morning coversation dressed in nothing but a sports bra and my birthday suit).

So as one should expect, this weekend I noticed that another article of clothing had disappeared... My feet were cold, but they didn't feel unusually dirty (which they often do on weekends because I get too lazy to sweep until Sunday night). The lack of dirt on the bottom led me to believe that I had socks on, but where were they? I couldn't see them, and I couldn't see my toes either! Had a mysterious amputation occurred that I wasn't aware of? Nope. I was just getting fatter... and once again I thank the hormone gods for being nice to me because I was able to laugh at this and figured that maybe it was to make up for having to wear ugly footwear for the next four months (at least I won't have to look at the flat shoes I will be wearing all summer).