As of April 15th, we will officially be homeowners. What the fuck? Are we insane? Has pregnancy rotted both of our brains? Well, yeah, pretty much. We were just sitting around one day, admiring my ever growing stomach, and we thought, hey, let's go find a house, close right around the due date of the baby and then pack, move and get settled into the new place in a month's time, all with a newborn and an almost 2 year old. Wouldn't that be fun? We got our wish. Did I mention we were smoking crack at the time? Of course I'm just kidding but we might as well have been. I'm not sure what we were thinking and I'm terrified as all hell. But life is full of challenges, right? This is just another one...or two...or three.
I'm excited and terrified and really happy all at the same time. It's going to be extremely hard but we'll manage. I have such a wonderful, loving and level headed husband who always knows just what to say and what to do so I have no doubts that this will all work out fine. But I can tell you that we'll be calling in a LOT of favors and we'll be needing a whole lot of help. So those of you reading this, prepare for the barrage of phone calls coming your way from the Schuster clan. We'll repay you, though, with a wonderful dinner cooked in our outdoor backyard kitchen and served under the beautiful shaded lanai. Let's get this party started!
Doh, is that a contraction?
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Any day now.....
I know that each pregnancy is different but it's hard not to compare this one to Mason's. Once you know what to expect, you expect it to happen the same way. Maybe that's easy for me to say because Mason's birth was a wonderful experience. I just keep hoping that this one will go as smoothly. Mason was born at 37 weeks and 6 days, and I went into labor just before midnight the night before. That is tonight. No, I don't really think that this one is going to come tonight but the unknowns are starting to make me nervous. With Mason, my plug broke, my water broke, everything was step by step. "but every pregnancy is different." God, how many times have I heard that? My water may not break this time, the baby may not drop this time. It's almost more nerve wracking than the first. I'm not sure I'm making any sense but it's hard to explain.
Okay, I admit I'm a worry wart, I always have been and I'm certainly not going to change now, but damn if it isn't frustrating as all hell. Wolf is in Sacramento at a concert with his good friend Tim and he won't be home until late tomorrow morning. What if something happens? Mason is not feeling well and I should be asleep, expecting to be woken up many times in the night, but I just can't shut my brain off. As it is I don't sleep well when Wolf isn't here and being in this state of my pregnancy doesn't help. It makes me feel better to know that he is hopefully out having a good time, though. He deserves it and I'm glad he is doing something for himself. Pretty soon, it isn't really going to be a possibility.
I'm terrified of having two kids. I'm scared that I won't be able to handle it. I'm scared that I'm going to be a horrific mother and that my worst trait, my lack of patience, is going to ruin everything. All I have ever wanted in my life (ever since I was 6, as anyone who has known me long enough can tell you) was to find a wonderful husband, have two beautiful children and be one big happy family. Totally cliche but I don't give a shit. I've never wanted the corporate life, never had dreams of being a rock star or rich and famous. I have always just wanted a simple, happy life surrounded by people who make my life complete. And I have that. Now I just have to get over the fear of fucking it all up.
Wow, crazy rantings and ravings from a pregnant woman. I'm almost tempted not to post this but what the hell. Some of you who read this are mothers, some are fathers, some are just friends, but I'm sure that everyone will be able to relate to my craziness on some level.
I love you all dearly and thank what ever powers are out there that I have the love and support of the most wonderful people. You all know me....and still love me.
Night-night.
Okay, I admit I'm a worry wart, I always have been and I'm certainly not going to change now, but damn if it isn't frustrating as all hell. Wolf is in Sacramento at a concert with his good friend Tim and he won't be home until late tomorrow morning. What if something happens? Mason is not feeling well and I should be asleep, expecting to be woken up many times in the night, but I just can't shut my brain off. As it is I don't sleep well when Wolf isn't here and being in this state of my pregnancy doesn't help. It makes me feel better to know that he is hopefully out having a good time, though. He deserves it and I'm glad he is doing something for himself. Pretty soon, it isn't really going to be a possibility.
I'm terrified of having two kids. I'm scared that I won't be able to handle it. I'm scared that I'm going to be a horrific mother and that my worst trait, my lack of patience, is going to ruin everything. All I have ever wanted in my life (ever since I was 6, as anyone who has known me long enough can tell you) was to find a wonderful husband, have two beautiful children and be one big happy family. Totally cliche but I don't give a shit. I've never wanted the corporate life, never had dreams of being a rock star or rich and famous. I have always just wanted a simple, happy life surrounded by people who make my life complete. And I have that. Now I just have to get over the fear of fucking it all up.
Wow, crazy rantings and ravings from a pregnant woman. I'm almost tempted not to post this but what the hell. Some of you who read this are mothers, some are fathers, some are just friends, but I'm sure that everyone will be able to relate to my craziness on some level.
I love you all dearly and thank what ever powers are out there that I have the love and support of the most wonderful people. You all know me....and still love me.
Night-night.
Monday, March 21, 2005
For those who don't believe....
There are so many important people in my life who live far away and I think it is hard for them to believe that I am actually pregnant since they never get to see me. It really sucks that so many people I love don't get to share this with me. Well, the best I can do is post pictures of my ever expanding abdomen - they aren't the best quality downloads but they'll have to do. I can't tell if I am any bigger than I was with Mason or if I am carrying any differently. All I can say is, I'm done. Ready for this to be over. It's hard on this old body of mine and I can tell that things are going to take a long time healing. Ah well, this is the end, I'm done after this so I should just shut up and enjoy what is left.
I am exactly 37 weeks today and the baby is completely viable, which means that it could be born today and all would be well. Everything is formed and developed and now it is just going to spend the next few weeks gaining fat. For those of you who don't know, pregnancy is actually 10 months, or 40 weeks, long. Mason was born at 37 weeks and 6 days, so basically this Sunday, Easter, would be the equivalent. That's fine by me, although there are a lot of people who would be much happier if Cookie waited until after the first week of April. Everyone seems to have plans or things to do, including 2 of my 3 midwives. So of course, it will come then. At least Wolf found my back brace for me today so I can walk around in a more upright position. The baby is all in the front and just keeps pulling me forward, making it very hard to walk. Waddle, waddle, waddle.
I gathered all of Mason's baby clothes together today, washed them and put them away in the dresser we bought for Cookie. I had lent them all to my friend Sheila for her son Cash and not only got back those clothes but all of the ones that she had acquired as well. Luckily it is basically the same time of year so everything should work just fine. Sheesh, I sure hope this is a boy or my little girl is going to look awfully blue for awhile.
I am exactly 37 weeks today and the baby is completely viable, which means that it could be born today and all would be well. Everything is formed and developed and now it is just going to spend the next few weeks gaining fat. For those of you who don't know, pregnancy is actually 10 months, or 40 weeks, long. Mason was born at 37 weeks and 6 days, so basically this Sunday, Easter, would be the equivalent. That's fine by me, although there are a lot of people who would be much happier if Cookie waited until after the first week of April. Everyone seems to have plans or things to do, including 2 of my 3 midwives. So of course, it will come then. At least Wolf found my back brace for me today so I can walk around in a more upright position. The baby is all in the front and just keeps pulling me forward, making it very hard to walk. Waddle, waddle, waddle.
I gathered all of Mason's baby clothes together today, washed them and put them away in the dresser we bought for Cookie. I had lent them all to my friend Sheila for her son Cash and not only got back those clothes but all of the ones that she had acquired as well. Luckily it is basically the same time of year so everything should work just fine. Sheesh, I sure hope this is a boy or my little girl is going to look awfully blue for awhile.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
It's late...
and I should be asleep, but I haven't posted in so long I thought I should take a minute to do some updating. Not that I'm really sure anyone except my best friend really reads this, but that's okay.
Mason started school last week. I cried the first day. Mason only cried for about 5 minutes. He goes Tuesday and Friday mornings. This last Tuesday I talked with his teacher, Vanessa ("Nessa"), and she said that he is starting to warm up and actually had a pretty good day. He was happy when I picked him up and walked around the room waving and saying bye-bye to all of his new friends. Tomorrow is day 4 and I can only hope that it just continues to get better.
I'm getting larger by the minute, my hands and feet are beginning to swell and I think that I am now truly a waddler. Tums are my lifesavers and I eat them by the handfuls. If not, I'm woken up in the middle of the night, between bathroom visits, by nasty heartburn and acid reflux. Oh yeah, then there is always the foot in the ribs maneuver which Cookie seems to be trying to master before he/she is born. Wolf and I didn't think it was possible that a baby could be more active than Mason was in my stomach, but this one has him beat. It's crazy to think that, although it is still technically 4 1/2 weeks until my due date, I could have this baby at any time. I would like to get to 36 weeks, which will be this next Monday, and then any time this little one wants to come, I'll be ready.
In the meantime, my little boy seems to wake up every morning a different boy. He seems bigger, older and too damn smart for his own good. He is talking up a storm now and is getting better with his sentences. Now we know when he doesn't say something it's not because he can't, it's because he doesn't want to! I was hard on him today because I'm sick, yet again, and feeling like a beached whale. I was short with him and grumpy and it sure does make me feel like a pretty shitty mother. I keep trying to put myself in his little shoes, looking up at this raving lunatic going off the deep end for no reason, and I feel like an ass. Wolf just keeps reminding me that pretty soon he is going to have far better things to do than hang out with us and that I should just enjoy every minute. I try to, I really really do, it's just so damn hard when my body just won't cooperate.
But that's no excuse. I only get to go through Mason's childhood with him once and I want to make sure that he has the best one that he can. No, I'm not perfect and no, I don't have the patience of a saint, but I love that little man beyond words and I can only hope that he somehow knows that.
Well, goodnight and enjoy the newest pictures of Little Buu.
Mason started school last week. I cried the first day. Mason only cried for about 5 minutes. He goes Tuesday and Friday mornings. This last Tuesday I talked with his teacher, Vanessa ("Nessa"), and she said that he is starting to warm up and actually had a pretty good day. He was happy when I picked him up and walked around the room waving and saying bye-bye to all of his new friends. Tomorrow is day 4 and I can only hope that it just continues to get better.
I'm getting larger by the minute, my hands and feet are beginning to swell and I think that I am now truly a waddler. Tums are my lifesavers and I eat them by the handfuls. If not, I'm woken up in the middle of the night, between bathroom visits, by nasty heartburn and acid reflux. Oh yeah, then there is always the foot in the ribs maneuver which Cookie seems to be trying to master before he/she is born. Wolf and I didn't think it was possible that a baby could be more active than Mason was in my stomach, but this one has him beat. It's crazy to think that, although it is still technically 4 1/2 weeks until my due date, I could have this baby at any time. I would like to get to 36 weeks, which will be this next Monday, and then any time this little one wants to come, I'll be ready.
In the meantime, my little boy seems to wake up every morning a different boy. He seems bigger, older and too damn smart for his own good. He is talking up a storm now and is getting better with his sentences. Now we know when he doesn't say something it's not because he can't, it's because he doesn't want to! I was hard on him today because I'm sick, yet again, and feeling like a beached whale. I was short with him and grumpy and it sure does make me feel like a pretty shitty mother. I keep trying to put myself in his little shoes, looking up at this raving lunatic going off the deep end for no reason, and I feel like an ass. Wolf just keeps reminding me that pretty soon he is going to have far better things to do than hang out with us and that I should just enjoy every minute. I try to, I really really do, it's just so damn hard when my body just won't cooperate.
But that's no excuse. I only get to go through Mason's childhood with him once and I want to make sure that he has the best one that he can. No, I'm not perfect and no, I don't have the patience of a saint, but I love that little man beyond words and I can only hope that he somehow knows that.
Well, goodnight and enjoy the newest pictures of Little Buu.
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