Diary of a Crazy Pregnant Woman, Part 4

Last Sunday morning, I taught children's church to the older children.  The class started out pleasantly enough with the kids polling each other with questions like, "Whoever likes cookies, raise your hand!"  (I totally raised my hand, just FYI.)

Then there was, "Whoever likes Alabama football, raise your hand!"  (You know I raised my hand.)

Luke decided to get in on the action.  He shouted, "Whoever is pregnant, raise your hand!"  (Thankfully I was the only one who raised my hand to that one.)

He followed that up with, "Whoever will be 35 on their birthday this year, raise your hand!"  (I gave him the stinkeye and said, "Okay, we are SO DONE with this game.")

He's just lucky that he's cute, that's all I'm saying.

Diary of a Crazy Pregnant Woman, Part 3

This is just not right.

How does something like this EVEN HAPPEN?

 

Foot thieves have come during the night and stolen away my feet.

Who does this kind of thing?!?

They were down there yesterday when I looked...

 

And now they are gone.

I think I need to go sit down and think this over.  

 

What do foot thieves do with the feet they absconded?  Pawn them?  Sell them on the black market?

Did I leave them somewhere?

Tootie Dog, have you seen them?

 

Oh.

There they are.

(I promise my legs are not as swollen as they look.  Bad angle, I guess.  I'm sure it has nothing to do with the leftover Valentine's chocolate I've been pounding away on.)

In unrelated news, they did it again.

In this unfortunate day and age of crazy people torching churches, I have to wonder if this is REALLY a good idea.  Some people may take it as a dare.

All right.  There's still leftover Valentine's candy to be eaten.  I have a job to do.

Call off the bloodhounds...I'm right here!

Wow.

When blogging ONCE a week becomes a struggle, you might as well just quit. I've had lots to blog about lately, but just no energy/time/desire/chocolate to do so. (The lack of chocolate is a total fabrication. In fact, the eating of the chocolate takes up a lot of blogging time. Or so I've heard.)

So, instead of real, insightful-type post, I will post some random pictures of things that have recently amused/confused/aggravated me. Fair enough?

First off, can someone explain tiny shirt-sleeve pockets to me?  I put on this wonderfully soft and cozy pink shirt a couple of weeks ago and was dismayed and confused by the tiny pocket on my sleeve.

It's not big enough to put ANYTHING in.  And if you did find something tiny enough to put in it, it would fall out the first time you raise your arm.  And it looks weird.

Then I remembered I had another one in the closet at home:

 

What's the deal?

Next, we got a letter from the Census Bureau this week.  You probably got one, too.  When I saw the envelope, I was all, "Okay, finally.  I'll fill this bad boy out and be done with it."  (I'm occasionally efficient like that.) But, alas, no.  It was not to be.

Instead they sent this INCREDIBLY USEFUL letter to tell me that they would be sending the actual census form soon.  Thanks, U.S. Government.  The tree that gave its life for that piece of paper that you sent us is eternally grateful, as is our national deficit.  Great thinking.  I can only hope you'll send me another letter a few days after I get the census form to remind me to fill it out and send it in. 

Next, gas station pickles are NASTY.

I don't care if you are pregnant or not--they are gross.  (I may or may not have bought the pickle the same day I bought a dozen chocolate covered doughnuts and a blue raspberry Slush Puppy.  Go ahead and judge me.  The cashier did.)

What a happy perk this is!

Why does EVERY store not have expectant mother parking?  I think I'm gonna start a petition.

Finally, I found something sorta neat at Babies R Us on this same shopping expedition.  It's called Heartburn Tea.  It's made with cinnamon and marshmallow root and all sorts of herbal friendliness.  I haven't tried it yet, but the whole concept of stomach acid shooting out my nose Sunday night made me decide it was time to try something, ANYTHING different to help.  (Don't pretend  you aren't jealous.  It's not every day you get to smell digestive fluids hanging out in your sinuses.  Unless you are me.  Good times.)

Anyhow, here's the box:

Is it just me, or could they have put ANYTHING else on the box besides that half-nekkid woman?  Granted, that look on her face kinda makes me think that she could feasibly have heartburn, but REALLY?!?  Put a cute, winged baby on the box.  Or a volcano spewing hot lava.  Or me writhing in agony with a kleenex stuffed up the right side of my nose.  Anything but that lady!

So, yeah.  That's what's been going on in my head.  Sad, but true.

Have a great weekend!

Luke's Salute to Soldiers

Luke and I were working as a team Saturday night.  I hauled all his clothes out of his closet and started sorting out what was too small. (Are you jealous yet?  What an action packed life I lead!)  On the questionable items, I had Luke try on the pants and/or shirts to see if they fit.  This is how it played out:

Me:  "Does it fit?"
Luke:  "Ummm.  No.  I don't think so."
Me:  "What's wrong?"
Luke:  "It's too tight in the soldiers."
Me:  (Failing to stifle a giggle)  "In the WHAT?"
Luke: " It's too tight ON MY SOLDIERS!"
Me:  (Guffawing)  "Where is THAT?"
Luke:  (Points to shoulders.)

Gives all new meaning to "Going Commando," doesn't it?

I added this to Wendy's "Life is Funny" Blog Carnival.  Check it out!

Diary of a Crazy Pregnant Woman, part two

I'll admit it.

I'm a bit of a quirky sleeper when I'm not pregnant. The room has to be silent, except for the white noise generator. The room must be comfortably cool, preferably with a ceiling fan, and absolutely dark.

All that still applies, but it's worse now that I'm gestating. Much worse.

I now require a body pillow. This is not entirely new, as I had to have one when I was pregnant with Emma many years ago. In fact, body pillow (bp, for short) is the reason Jason and I ended up buying a king-sized bed. He got tired of clinging to the edge of the queen-sized bed as he propped his pillow on the nightstand.

Or something like that.

Near the end of my pregnancy with Emma, I started waking up with little bits of fabric between my toes. Soon after, I would wake up with wads of fluffy bp stuffing in my toes. Granted, I totally have monkey toes, but I did cut my nails. For some odd reason, I just shredded my poor bp in my sleep.

Jason is lucky to be alive.

So far, my new bp is healthy and shows no signs of toe-shred, but it's still early. I've still got 16 (!) more weeks to go.
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On Monday night/Tuesday morning, I got up at 1:16 to go to the restroom (more on that later) and then collapsed back into bed. I curled up with bp and fell fast asleep. At 2:06 a.m., our security system alarm went off. I sprung out of that bed like I'd been shot out of a gun. Instead of turning the alarm off at the panel in the bedroom, I flew into the kitchen to the other panel. (And really? I didn't know what was going on. For all I knew, there was someone breaking into the house. Running through the house was probably NOT my best idea.)  I stood staring at the alarm panel.  Finally, I comprehended that it said that Emma's smoke detector was going off and that the glass in the library window was broken.  I shut off the system as Jason finally emerged from the bedroom to go investigate.

Turns out, the house wasn't on fire (YAY) and no one had broken any glass (Also YAY).  Emma's smoke detector was full of dust (HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?!?) and the ridiculously loud alarm from that set off the glass break alarm. 

I'm so glad we have dust alarms in this house now.  I'd hate to know that there was any undetected dust lying around.

Sheesh.

All that said, after I talked with the alarm representative and mentally apologized to our neighbors, I looked down to see that in my right arm, I was choking the life out of my poor body pillow.  I didn't even realize that I had bp with me.  I had probably carried that thing around for 10 minutes before I noticed that I even had it.

Fun times.

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I know this is probably God's way of getting me prepared for Anna Beth actually being here, but it's not my favorite thing right now.  I have to get up EVERY single night between 1:11 and 1:21 a.m. to go to the bathroom.  It never fails that I wake up and think, "Yes, I made it through the night!" only to be disappointed that it is in that magical 10-minute window that it ALWAYS  is.

So, I try to sneak steadily, stealthily, and quietly to the bathroom so that I don't wake the child in utero.  Whenever she does wake up, I am guaranteed at least 30 minutes of wiggles and hiccups on her part, that tend to keep me awake too.  Although, I suppose that if my bedroom got up and moved in the middle of the night, I probably would wake up with an ailment a lot more severe than just hiccups.

When it's not my bladder waking me up, it's the snoring.  *MY SNORING*

Me, the delicate flower who only snores when terribly, horribly sick with a deadly sinus infection.

Not anymore.

Now my snores are not the gentle, breathy wheezes of ailing sinuses.

Oh no.

They are more like the buzzing of an out-of-control chainsaw riding on a Harley with no muffler.  I wake myself up with this.  Ugh.  The snoring leads to dry throat, which leads to drinking water, which leads to more bathroom trips.  Awesome.

When it's not the bladder or the snoring that wakes me, it's the leg cramps.  I had leg cramps in my other pregnancies, but these are new and improved.  These are so bad that I wake up begging Jesus to come and get me.  These are so bad, that I know if I had a sharp object on my nightstand, I would self-amputate to escape the pain.  Also awesome.

Finally, if all the other fun nighttime adventures were not enough to keep me sleep-deprived, I have the crazy pregnant woman dreams to keep me occupied.  If we've met (or not, even, Ty Pennington), chances are you've played a role in one of my dreams.  I don't have happy dreams of romance and fun, oh no.  Mine are always someone is missing, someone is dead, or a-mystery-has-to-be-solved-nightmares.  Maybe I need to cut down on the "CSIs" before bedtime or something.

I think I need a nap.

Through a glass, darkly...

Last month, my family had the opportunity to take a peek at our newest family member, Anna Beth.  The amazing technology that exists today allowed us to see all her internal organs, her bones, and that she is a girl.  It really was a special time for our family to be able to see the unseen perfection that God is working inside my body to sculpt and form her into His image.

Even though we could see her tiny feet and the wonders of the workings of her four-chambered heart, we could not distinguish Anna Beth’s facial features.  We couldn’t see what color her hair will be.  We won’t know until later what color her eyes will be, but for right now, none of that really matters.  What we did see is that nothing was out of the ordinary.  We are going on faith that the ultrasound technician was right in the things she did observe.  She saw that all the organs were there and functioning.  She saw that all the bones were present and properly formed.  To put it simply in Biblical terms, “For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then [at birth]face to face.” (1 Corinthians 13:12) 

It can be a little confusing or unsatisfying to look at an ultrasound picture if you don’t know what you are looking for.  It helps to have someone point everything out to you so that you know what you are seeing.  The same can be said of the mysteries of God’s Word.  Not everything in the Bible is supposed to make sense to us right now.  There are some things we will not be able to comprehend in our finite human minds until God reveals the truth to us.

However, there are some things that God intends for us to take His Word by faith, believing Him now and seeing for ourselves later.  All of God’s promises concerning the Kingdom of Heaven and what it will be like for us in eternity may not make a lot of sense now, but we are to believe His Word and share that knowledge with others.  After all, the Gospel can be intimidating to a person who doesn’t know what they are looking at or listening to. 

I am so grateful and blessed to have always had people in my life that were willing to patiently explain and teach to me the meaning of God’s Word.  If you have been fortunate enough to have a person in your life that was dedicated to helping you understand what you believe, pass it on!  The world could use a lot more clarity in our faith and in our focus!

God Bless You!--Lianne