Sunday, June 22, 2014

Telling Grandma

Of course "posting" big news for the world to see is exciting.  Even if you're not completely obsessed with Facebook, all the "likes" and "comments" can be a fantastic distraction from work for as long as 48 hours. But...

there is just nothing like telling Grandma you're pregnant.



I've written about my Grandma here and there, mostly early on in my blog. She played a huge role in my childhood and while I want to be intentional about taking nothing away from my incredible parents, I have to say that I spent the majority of my time growing up with my Grandma. When all after-school days and most summers are spent at Grandma and Grandpa's house, the hours quickly add up. I find that there are ways I behave in my adult life that just have to be a product of being so close and so influenced by my Grandmother. One example: my devout belief in the idea that "neatness counts."

Since I'm just about 30 now, that unfortunately means that my grandparents have aged as well.  Grandma is now in her late 80's and living in a convalescent home, with pretty advanced dementia. While I can't visit as often as I'd like, every time I make the trip to San Dimas, I am overwhelmed with how connected I still feel to her.  Of course my mom, a loyal and daily visitor to Grandma, meets me at the home each time I go.  On my most recent trip, I shared with Mom that the three of us in the same room just feels right although it's been over ten years since that was the norm.

It's standard that there is confusion upon my arrival. Once we tell Grandma who I am, my mom quickly tells her that I'm pregnant. She just can't wait a minute longer and I can't blame her. It's as if there is a moment of clarity and this new great grandchild on the way makes perfect sense. My grandma smiles during the entire visit. I felt her genuine interest and excitement, since she asked the same three questions over and over. She really wanted to know:

How I had been feeling.
If my husband was excited.
How far along I was...although after answering "3 months" just three times, this question evolved into "So you're 3 months?"

As a former Kindergarten teacher and current mom to teenagers, I'm a pro at repeating myself.  But never have I enjoyed it as much as this. One of my favorite observations from Grandma went something like, "Well, you sure aren't very big."  Could I love this woman any more?  (Answer- No, I love her so, so much) We used to get off the phone by repeating we loved each other a bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck.

My mom asked what Gram thought I was having and for a moment, Grandma's smile went away and she very seriously said, "Well, she's having a boy."

Stay tuned...

And if you have the ability to reach your grandma by phone or better yet, give her a hug in person soon...DO IT!  PS You don't have to be pregnant.

Friday, June 6, 2014

HE is not all that's Risen- Morning Sickness begins

They say all pregnancies are different.  I don't know who "they" are.  But if "they" are Doctors, I believe it. If not, I'll be asking my OBGYN at my next visit.  I listen to everything my OBGYN says.  What other source would I trust?  Some sort of online forum?  I don't think so.

As far as this pregnancy is concerned, "morning sickness,"  translates to day-long-nausea, and reared its ugly head on Easter Sunday (5.5 weeks along).  From that sacred day on, I have felt sick every day at various times throughout the day.  Ironically enough, evenings are the worst. When my breathing starts to slow and a look of utter seriousness appears, it's pretty clear we're "workin' through some things."  My household knows what this means.  If uncertain sometimes the husband will ask, "You okay honey?  Just working through some things?"  Yep.

I pride myself on having limited the use of official "Sick days" to a mere one...thus far. Since that one was used pretty early on (before a girl had strategies for getting from gagging in office to spewing in staff bathroom in sub 10 seconds), I had no choice but to play out the "In bed with a Migraine" act.  I don't condone lying to your colleagues (who also moonlight as great friends!) but that cat was just not quite ready to be outta the bag.

In addition to day-long-nausea being inconvenient, I'm not thrilled with the persona (if you will) it tends to bring out in me, literally and figuratively. I can only describe it as...Crazy.

I want to say that I have yet to really flip out.  However, the crazy definitely rises up in me, among other things, when I'm alone. In most cases I am alone in my office or car. I should probably get even better at hiding the crazy because pretty soon I won't be alone EVER.  No baby deserves to hear Mommy call a man wearing a stupid hat a "stupid driver, in a stupid car."  In my defense, calling everything surrounding the man that cut me off "stupid" was way less harsh than the other English and even Spanish possibilities I know of.

Instead of going into the ugly details of those scenes in my life (I think the "stupid" story is picturesque enough), I thought a more positive spin might be sharing those little things throughout the day that get me OUT of Crazy:

Nothing puts a smile on my green face quicker than taking off my belt (that's right) and flipping over my recycle bin to create an ottoman under my desk.  Yes, the heels also come off. Go big or go home.

The drawer or center console o' munchies: Trail mix, crackers, banana, oatmeal, club soda, mint tea...if it's non perishable and remotely nutritious, it's probably lived in my office or car at some point in the last 60 days. Ya know what else lives there?  A big knit scarf, that is NOT for keeping me warm (I ran hot pre-pregnant, you better believe I'm a furnace now!). It is utilized as the amazing pillow that I believe it is made to be. When it comes to 15 minute breaks, I'm no fool.  That cool, dark office I have right at my disposal is not going to go to waste. My formula: Lights off, office locked, quick email to neighboring colleague that says something like "Hey, see ya in 15," and fetal position on the floor. Looking through the vertical window (right above my body) will only show you a dark room and an empty desk.  What's not being seen? An enrollment counselor shimmied up against that window...possibly snoring.  Work Naps 2014. What's up.

 I used to swear tea was for wimps.  I like coffee.  Guess what?  Tea is awesome.


There's no better cool down from an enraged driving situation (it really doesn't happen all that often) than the two B's...a Bagel and Billy Joel. I literally went from 60 to 0 immediately upon "Piano Man" hitting the air and a plain wheat bagel hitting my lips.  Satisfaction.


So many nausea filled stories to tell...for now I'll leave you with those positive highlights.

I would love to be in the bloggy habit of telling you what post is coming next...but I'm pretty indecisive these days and well...we'll just have to see what comes out of me (no pun intended)

Okay fine, pun intended.

Monday, June 2, 2014

I am PREGNANT

3 months:  The amount of time it takes to grow out a bad bang trim.  The amount of time it takes some of us to finish a book.  AND the amount of time one should wait to announce she is PREGNANT.




I am pregnant.




I didn't anticipate my big announcement being one that took place via social media/the blogosphere...but let's get real- I either spend the time calling everyone I know or the postage sending them all some sort of clever photo (with vintage font overlay). Unfortunately I'm just very tired, and not that clever.

I AM absolutely thrilled.  As is the man responsible, my husband.  There are so many things that we are finding incredible, shocking and even hilarious about this process (for lack of a better word).  Now I can finally start posting!

Coming soon: 
"HE is not all that's risen- morning sickness begins on Easter Sunday"