Introducing...

JGR!  I would share her name... but something about that creeps me out to share on the big ol' internets.  So, JGR it is for you.  On May 14, 2009, a little baby girl (formerly known as Brian "the fetus"), burst through into the world.  

My water broke around 4:30 AM and we ambled to the hospital around 6 AM.  We had the best nurse at the IMC labor and delivery, Corene, and she helped us get through to the end without an epidural.  I did have some narcotics though, and seriously, the mood lifting ability of

 narcotics is simply amazing.  It made it so I could rest in between contractions and laugh a bit. 

 

Mindy was there to enjoy the fun, along with Alex.  Good times were had.  More later.

Unhappy Pregnant Lady

You know all of those women who swoon over being pregnant?  The kind who enjoy every moment and never want it to end?

I am not one of those pregnant ladies.  Thursday marks my forty weeks and quite frankly I'm done.  I'm ready for the labor portion of this experience.  I'm ready to have my baby and start figuring out how not to kill him -- in other words, learning how to care for the white pasty grub that will be my child.

I'm tired of strangers, friends, and family telling me what I can and can't do.  "Oh!  You're pregnant so you really shouldn't lift that heavy thing" or "Gardening is probably not a good idea."  Um, dudes, I may be immobile, but I am sure as hell not happy about it.  

I am definitely not happy that grass has come up all through my rose garden and garden garden and my body is too awkward to effectively pull any of it.  Normally by this time my fingernails would be caked with dirt and my face would be sunburned from all the time spent focusing on my plants.  I love my plants.  I miss my plants.

So, instead of being in the dirt, I've been making chickens.  I will try to post a picture later.  The do look less like mens genitals... even though Alex still sees the resemblance.  It's one of those things where once you point it out you can never get rid of the picture in your head.  Whoops.

Hopefully my "practice contractions" will soon turn into real ones and I can see what sex Brian is.  Alex is dying to know.  He's also dying for the two weeks off work.

Alright, I'm going to go watch an hour of True Blood on HBO then clean my craft room for Mindy who will be visiting for ten days and sleeping in the midst of all of my material.  Awesome.

DONE**

**warning, the following post complains about graduate school--read at your own risk**

You know, it's funny.  I thought when I finished my MAT program at Westminster I would be so sorrowful and withdrawn, but after this week I am RELIEVED!  

Don't get me too wrong.  I learned a lot from the majority of the professors I had.  I actually adore most of them as they took the time to teach me and make sure I was understanding the information they were feeding me.  Via enema.

But the class they attached to the very end of the program was completely unnecessary and made me a very grumpy student.  I thought Westminster encouraged their professors to teach students to think for themselves, but apparently not.  Not all of them believe it important for us to have our own personal beliefs or to pursue our own interests.

But, really, it's just one.  And that's all the b****ing I will do about that before digging myself a hole.  

Seriously, I woke up at two in the morning and could not fall back to sleep because I was so angry about this.  You should know, like I stated above, all other professors were pretty awesome and I have zero complaints about them.  

Then I had a dream I was giving birth to an elephant and Alex had those plug earrings... I keep having the strangest birthing dreams.  I guess that just emphasizes that I am two weeks away from my due date.  Now that school is done I'm hoping Brian comes earlier so I can spend more time with him before teaching next year.

Which is me being optimistic, since I don't even have a job set up yet.

Life's Questions

I'm freaking out a little bit.  I have my last Westminster paper to write, a five page behemoth about my "personal journey and development as a teacher from the beginning to the end of the MAT program."  

Um, seriously?  Is it natural for my school to need to know so much about my feelings and such?  This is on top of the journaling and two other papers asking me to talk about how my view of culture has changed, and how I'm so much more of an open minded person now.

I actually talked to a fellow student who sounds like they hate more now.  Hate more now after a year of having our students "funds of knowledge" shoved down our throats.  Bah.

Anyway, this is the last paper I have to write and then I have to put a portfolio together, which isn't difficult since it's all stuff I've completed. 

The problem is... what then?  I don't have a job yet, so I get to worry about what I'll be doing next year.  Last year all the MAT students had jobs lined up, but with the economy the way it is it looks like my cohort will be waiting a bit longer.

Also, once I'm done with this stuff, what then?  I have two weeks until my due date with Brian, and my doctor said yesterday that it's entirely possible that I reach it.  What in god's name do I do for TWO WEEKS!  I have no job.  I am uncomfortable all of the time.  I am trying to sew, but my motivation wavers.

At least the house is clean.  I will try to keep that up.  My best friend Alicia visited over the weekend and Alex and I had to make the house presentable for her -- we had to eliminate many little cat hair tumbleweeds that had started to get aggressive.  

So, now, after today is over... what the hell do I do with my life?  I guess I just continue to gestate Brian?  I have crafty things to finish... I have a couple of chicken bodies that look like men's genitalia.  

Okay, I've got to write that paper now.  Go on with your life.  You're probably doing something so much more productive...

Huh

There are certain pains ones body experiences that are just not okay.  They are especially not okay to talk about in public.

But, oh man, what is with this?  

Along with that I have about a day to complete one of my last assignments for grad school... and I just don't really care any more.  I'm sort of on the verge of making s*** up.  And, yes, I should have had this completed days ago.  

But, I am 37 weeks pregnant and my brain no long works.  Or cares.  I hope it starts up enough again after Brian comes that I can actually function well enough to take care of a baby.

Huh...

tired

The last couple of days have really, sort of, sucked.  I guess I'm experiencing what could be a "false labor."  I feel like I've got menstrual cramps that keep radiating through my legs, belly, and back.  Oh, and my ass.  Everything is sore.  You know how your body feels when you've go the flu?  That's how mine feels right now.

I'm 37 weeks today, so maybe these will go away, or go on for another week, or Brian will arrive soon. 

I guess I should go take a Tylenol.  And a hot shower.  And eat a baked potato covered in cheese and sour cream.  And a coke.

Joy.

Curse of Procrastination

I have an extremely important research paper due on Monday, and a fairly large portfolio.  When did I wait to start writing the paper, even though I've known about it for... months?  

Thursday.

Admittedly, I have been researching.  I found twelve excellent resources that I will be using, and out of those resources I have eight pages of quotes that may or may not make their way into the final paper.  I also have two pages written, another 8-10 pages to go.  

I'm writing on teacher expectations and resistant students (students that range from doing nothing in your classroom to acting out and misbehaving).  Before beginning my research I didn't realize how these two inequalities are completely intertwined with each other.  How the teacher interacts with their students determines how the students behave, and vice versa.

What did I find was the best way to take care of both of these issues?  Teachers need to have high expectations of all of their students, regardless of race or dress or whatever, and that if you can form a healthy trusting community in your classroom you're likely to prod resistant students out of their shells.  

Mutual trust.  Who would have thought?

Anyway, I'm going to spend 4 or 5 hours at my library today trying to finish this paper so I can then give it to Alex's mother to read -- she's a professor at the University of Phoenix.  She will have no problems telling me if it is good or bad.  I need this, especially since the professors I will be handing the end product into are... picky?  

Mind you, they told us we can write this research paper in the "first person" and that they would love for it to be a "reflective piece."  After much deliberation, I'm ignoring these suggestions.  Either you want a research paper, which can be dull but full of facts, or you want me to reflect on my experiences -- which should not have to be written in APA format.  

So there.  

*Warning, breasts and babies will be discussed in the next paragraph*

Oh, one more thing.  I went to the Lactation Station last Thursday and it was WONDERFUL!  I was there for thirty minutes and left with everything I need to start breast feeding, including a book on how to breast feed (seeing as how I've never done it).  The woman who helped me was amazing.  She eyeballed my boobs and gave me some nursing bras to try on -- bras with extra space for now so that after Brian comes they will fit perfectly.  What size are the bra's?  34 F (or DDD).  

I know, I was quite impressed myself.  But the best part was having someone there who knew what she was talking about and was able to give me great advice.  I've been all over the valley trying to find nursing bras -- and nobody carries them.  Okay, except for "Motherhood" but they were flimsy and the sales staff irritated me.  AND the changing rooms are just curtains, which is apparently too tempting for the small children who infect the place and like to peek in to "see what's there."  

Anyway, I have bras that fit now, along with some needed extras.  *Thanks mom!*

Now I have to go eat a huge breakfast so I can spend hours at the library and not feel famished. 

Oh, and I have six weeks left until Brian's due date...  Holy sh**

All's Fine

I love the doctor who does the ultrasounds at my clinic.  She is wonderful.

Well, Brian weighs in at 4 lbs. and 3 oz. and is in the 44th percentile -- basically, my fetus is exactly where he needs to be.  His environment is safe; the amniotic fluid is at a healthy 14 oz and the placenta hasn't matured (which happens sometimes, it prevents the fetus from getting all the nutrients it needs).  

Dr. Anne also said that smaller women, like me, tend to carry the baby towards the back and that me measuring small doesn't mean too much.  She also said some women never measure anywhere near the 40 cm doctors expect to see as you near your due date.

Whew.  I feel so relieved to know that Brian is getting what he needs.  The due date has moved up one day, to May 14th, which is my grandma's birthday.  It would be really awesome if he could be born on that day.

Okay, I'm rambling.  

Alex and I did get to see some 3D scans of Brian's little face.  He's got little chubby cheeks, but was effectively hiding most of his face behind his hands.  We also resisted asking about the sex again.  We saw some... stuff, but I wouldn't say I'm qualified to actually say what any of it was.

Alright, I guess I better get around to start researching for my 10-12 page paper for my MAT program... that I've been procrastinating for quite some time...  even though I'd rather do so many other things...

As Promised

For those of you who live far away (Mindy) this is what I look like -- at least this was me a week ago on a walk with Stella.  Doesn't she look so happy?  

Now, I'm sure you want more of a "detailed" photo... but just think of how long it took me to post this one.

Other than walking the dog I've started being a student again, one who is unwilling to start writing the papers I'm supposed to be writing.  That's right, I'd rather be watching petty TV than researching inequity in schools.  Blah.

We also made a trip to Ikea (weird how a four letter word has three syllables) for baby stuff.  Alex spent the weekend putting furniture together.  His parents were worried that it would be horrid for him, but they don't realize that he LOVES building and putting things together.  Yes, it takes hours, and he loves it.  All that remains to be built is the crib.  Here is what we have so far:

The bee has wheels and can be ridden on.  Yes, it is meant for three year olds, but Alex and I couldn't leave the store without it.  So, now we have some baby furniture, a bee, and a giant dragon kite for Brian's room.  We are so prepared.

29 Today

Happy birthday to me!  I get to spend my day at a teacher's job fair and finishing writing up my lesson plans for the unit I taught at my junior high!  Oh, and that should be followed up with shrimp scampi and cake.  

It's all about the cake.

It's nice not having to worry about teaching right now, but I must say that my brain -- which was fully occupied with teaching before -- has once again become soft.  It allows me to reflect on the easier and nicer things in life, such as movies.  For the first time since... December(?) Alex and I went and saw a movie, The Watchmen.  I didn't have very high expectations of it, but I really enjoyed it.  A bit of a warning though, the blue guy is naked through a good deal of the movie.  It bothered Alex, but I barely noticed it.  I guess I figure a penis is a penis, naked and bright blue or not.

This week has started off on a bit of a poopy note.  I went for my prenatal visit yesterday and my doctor (who, you should know, I think is awesome) told me I'm not measuring "big enough" and I haven't been gaining "enough weight."  I am 31 weeks pregnant and should be measuring around 31 centimeters from pubis to fundus (the top of the uterus), but I'm only measuring 28 centimeters.  I started my pregnancy at 110 lbs and am currently 128 lbs -- which is the same as it was four weeks ago.  So, she wants me to go in for an ultrasound to make sure Brian (the fetus) is growing the way he's supposed to.

Is it strange that I kind of hate going in for ultrasounds?  They have this negative connotation for me (I had four at the very beginning of this pregnancy, and one very bad one last year).  

However, Brian's heartbeat is strong and he moves around like a freakish squid.  Seriously.  Oh, and he's had hiccups all morning, that's been a joy.

As far as pictures of the belly goes -- you see, I look "cute" (read dressed) for about ten minutes after getting home, and then my cute clothes come off to be replaced with comfortable clothes that don't restrict my movements (waddly though they may be).  So, I have good intentions, I just haven't stayed "dressed" long enough to do it.  Soon, though, soon.

Insert Evil Laugh Here...

I'm done! I'm done! I'm done!

Not that the last six weeks haven't been an enriching experience. I mean, standing in somebody else's classroom, teaching their students, trying to continue teaching the lessons they would prefer me to do -- all of those things helped make this a memorable and valuable experience. I do have to say that the fact my mentor is NOT looking forward to having her classes back does make me smile. She observed one of the easier classes earlier this week and then jumped all over me for my lack of control over them.

(In the students defense, they're not usually that bad, but I am far more lenient on them then I am other class periods because the class doesn't have nearly as many students as other periods... whatever.)

I wanted to tell her that the way she controls her classes -- through condescending comments and somewhat manipulative language -- makes a lot of her students hate her. The A students love her, and she loves them, but she can be mean to those that don't fit into her definition of what is "the right kind of student."

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I love the weird kids who may or may not be failing. I was a weird kid, so I guess there's some sort of camaraderie there.

Sorry, I don't mean to vent. I'm just so excited to put an end to this strange charade they call student teaching. Now I get to start on looking for a job and interviewing with school districts.

I don't want to. I'm tired and I want to spend a full week watching old episodes of Angel. I love you Joss Whedon.

Hopefully, getting all of my brain power back will help me focus more on the fetus (Brian) that has made me large and wobbly. I'm running out of clothes to wear to school, and I'm looking forward to not having to worry about what bra I wear. I think I may just start leaving those evil things at home... if my boobs can handle the freedom.

I measured my belly around its largest part last night -- 37 inches. Yup. I'm hungry all of the time, I eat all of the time, and I think most of it is going to Brian, who should be about 3 pounds now.

Okay, I'm done. Go back to your daily routine. I have to write a resume now... that's two days late...

The light...

Four more days of teaching! Two more weeks at my Jr. High! I can see the light at the end of the freaking tunnel!

Okay, that's enough with the exclamation points... I sort of hate those things.

I haven't updated in a while, mainly because I've got pregnant brain AND I'm student teaching -- which doesn't make for a good mix. Brian is fine, he's just kicking away and keeping me up at night. The cats still like to sleep on him. Although, I think Opal gets confused and upset when she tries to lie on my belly and he kicks her. It's like she can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt her so.

My husband is awesome and finally finished our basement. What was covered in 60's orange carpet and unfinished walls has turned into one of the most comfortable area's in the house. It got new commercial nylon carpet (come on, with three animals and a baby, we had to go with the hardy stuff), and Alex finished mudding/sanding/building the walls. And then it all got painted -- well, except for our awesome wood paneling. I know that confuses some, but it has a nice warm glow and it really has grown on us over the last four years. So it stays.

I spent my weekend sending more old crap to the D.I. That makes two trips in the last three weeks. Two trips where the CRV was stuffed full of old stuff that hopefully somebody else wants. I find it very creepy to go through old things and realize that all the reasons for keeping it are stupid, and that I really just have to let it go. I had four pairs of my dad's Levi's I didn't want to let go of -- I never wore them, I just wanted to keep them. I finally had to tell myself that he would be so PLEASED to know I got rid of them, he really doesn't like it when I wear his old pants... not like they'd fit now anyway.

Okay, I will try to post a picture of my roundness soon. I keep meaning to, but once again, I will blame student teaching and my pregnant brain.

TWO WEEKS!

Stress Relief

You know, in my non-pregnant days, when I was stressed I would sit back and drink a beer... or two.  But now, because I am forced to take into consideration my 24-week-old fetus I can't partake of the sweet brewed nectar.  Instead I eat a candy bar or imbibe a BigGulp.  

Unfortunately, although these are delicious things, they do not relieve me of my overwhelming stress and anxiety.  I'm teaching tomorrow and I'm trying to write up next weeks lesson plans and I am going to EXPLODE.  I can feel that I'm on the edge of a full blown anxiety attack, and I don't really know what to do about it.

I know, you're saying, "Get back to work, yo.  Finish your lesson plans and get it over with."

Well, yeah.  Duh.  However, my mentor teacher threw me some curve balls this last week, like how she thinks it's important that I include grammar lessons.  Yes, I am going to be an English teacher, but I HATE grammar.  My mother-in-law tried explaining some grammar foundations to me yesterday and I just stared at her in blank horror.  I had to tell her twice that I had no idea what she had just said.  Something with the phrase "nominative predicate," whatever that is.

Ugh.  So, I would really love to have a beer right now, but for Brian I won't.  He does love the candy bar's and BigGulp's, he kicks/punches/moves like squid after I pig out.  Poor kid, I'm probably setting him up to be an obese child.  I've been watching too many programs on TLC titled "Half-Ton Teen."  Believe me, any program dealing with really fat people, Alex and I record it and watch it... invariably when we're eating dinner in front of the TV.  

Puh.  Okay, back to trying to be optimistic with my week.  Have a good day, if you can.

Snow Walkin'

My husband, Alex, likes to make me go walking.  He insists that it helps to keep me "fit" and is good for "Brian."  I generally go along with this, as it gives us time to talk, and gives us the added bonus of helping our dog, Stella, be less of a freak at home.

She's the kind of dog who will stare at you, paw at you, wet-nose you, until you finally throw up your hands and say, "Fine!  I will take you on a walk!"

We do torture her by making her wear sweaters, which she despises.  However, on this particular day it was somewhere around 20 degrees, and since she's practically furless we didn't give her much of a choice.  HA!  If you make the photo bigger you will see it's a chicken sweater that Alex made.  He is quite talented at the sewing machine.

Next post will be about DOLL HEADS!  Oh the gore!

Fun with Fetus'

This image was created by Dylan Meconis.  This is definitely how I feel about Brian -- I mean, it's great having a fetus.  I'm at 12 weeks now, so the morning sickness (which is more of a nightly thing lately) is supposed to start becoming less of a problem.  

Last night Halloween was a bit of bust.  We had 7 trick-or-treaters.  Oh, you heard right, 7.  Last year we had something like 60.  We figure the trunk-or-treat going on at the church up the street killed the fun for the night.  We even dressed up!  We forgot to take pictures, but I was a skeleton zombie and Alex was creeping death.  I mean, we had masks and everything, and freaking Utah parents decided to kill Halloween by carting their fat kids from trunk to trunk in a parking lot.  Halloween is about WALKING house to house and asking strangers for candy!  It's kind of scary!  But mostly it's fun!  But, oh no, parents around here....  I'm so mad about it.  I bought 10 lbs of candy to give out, and now I'll have to take half of it back to Costco today to return it.  Boo!  Alex and I decided our kids will definitely go out for candy, and they can eat it until their sick.  Because that's what Halloween is about.

Plus, you see, I grew up in tiny Rigby, Idaho.  There were many Halloweens where we would trek through the SNOW, our costumes mostly obliterated by warm coats and shoes, to get candy. Now, If I had fun trick-or-treating in 20-30 degree weather, other kids would have loved last night when it was 70 degrees and warm.  Utah parents are such weenies.