The first Christmas.

Our holidays involved driving. A lot of it. And a lot of people, all up in Hazel's face, telling her how cute she is. And she is, it's true, but baby girl does NOT care for people to invade her personal space, nor does she care for cutesy loud voices, and quite frankly, older women scare her.  So with that, add in the following things:

-Barking Dogs
-No naps
-a few LOUD family members
-TEETHING (top front teeth)
-A cold (for her, for Trever, and now for me)

And you get a hectic five days of chaos and crying. That's right, FIVE days. Next year, that ain't happening, no sir, sorry family. I'm not sure how it is that we are expected to drive all over, but I think it may have something to do with the fact that we live in apartment and not a house, and the people with houses have more space? but also dogs. And it's not that I hate dogs, but I don't really like dogs, especially when they bark and jump and smell.  I don't want everyone to come over here, either. But perhaps we can combine visits a little better next year so that we aren't driving down to the south shore three days in a row.

As far as gift giving, we gave out magnets of our little goon's face. They were a hit. We didn't have much money to do things for people, and really, no one NEEDS anything. So the only actually presents that we gave were to the kids (there are two aside from Hazel) and a little photo album to Trever's grandmother. I wish people didn't give us gifts. I know that sounds ungrateful, but we just don't have the space for more knick knacks or things to hang on the wall, and also, I like to pick that stuff. It's my space, you know? I don't want my surroundings to be based on feelings of guilt over gifts. Does that make sense? I get it, it's nice to give gifts, but I feel terrible creating a donation pile right after Christmas. I would much rather people just keep their money, or give us $10 to put in the bank for Hazel, instead of buying her terrible clothes made of fabric that I don't like touching. It's not like I can tell people this, either. I can tell my mom, and I HAVE told my mom, but clearly it hasn't sunk in.

I swear, my family is TRYING to make me a hoarder, like they all basically are.  IT IS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN, PEOPLE.

Other stuff happened that was also dramatic/traumatic over the past couple weeks that I won't get into, but everything seems to be calming down a bit, for which I am thankful. We have big plans for New Years, to stay home and play Monopoly, and I couldn't be happier. I love my little family and I can't imagine ringing in the start of 2014 with anyone else.

Some Lists (I hate lists.)

Things Hazel is working on:

Sitting without toppling over
Napping on a schedule
Going to sleep without my nipple in her mouth
High Fives
Drinking from a cup
Drinking from a bottle
(Clearly she has a nipple dependency. MY nipple... which she is now biting. OW.)

Things Kiki is working:

Eating
Sleeping
Trying to get that hairball out
Getting more attention than Hazel

Things I should be working on but I'm not, really:

Organizing all the tiny clothes which are overtaking our apartment
Figuring out a "holiday" photo (why does this annoy me so much?)
Our Christmas Stockings, which I am hand-sewing because I am an asshole
Etsy Shop update
Some sort of exercise routine

Things I have managed to accomplish this week:

Ate a lot of oatmeal
Kept up on diaper laundry (but no other laundry)
Paid bills, paid overdue parking tickets (we suck)
Ordered new carseat for giant baby
Kept my baby & my old lady cat alive and mostly happy for another week
Showered three times
Bought moccasins (FOR HAZEL, NOT FOR ME.)

Super exciting, I tell you. Life is a carnival.

Last night I had a dream that I was on this big wooden raft with my mother, my sister, my brother-in-law, and Trever. We were in the middle of a body of water, hanging out I guess, for fun. Maybe the ocean, a choppy bay, with water that was clear on the surface for a foot until it got dark. Hazel wasn't with us, but we had the baby monitor. My mother went out on a float, and had the monitor, and dropped it in the water. I panicked at first but then I remember we have baby monitor apps on our iphones (which wouldn't have mattered in real life, since we would have had to set up one phone with her for it to work, but hey, it's a dream). Then my sister & brother-in-law decided to jump off the raft together, thus shifting the balance of the raft, so that both of their phones fell off into the water. I went to grab my phone, lost my grip, and somehow dropped it. Into the water. I scrambled to grab it but I was too slow. I watched it sink. My mom still had her flip phone. Trever still had his android. But these things were useless to me and I felt so helpless.

THIS DREAM IS SO IMPORTANT AND GROSS TO ME. Clearly it's a message about my phone and how attached I am to it.

Escapes.

One thing I like to do when I need a break is to go on craigslist and look up other places to live. Sometimes, it brings me down. Way way down. Cost of living is just so damn expensive here, and it can be incredibly frustrating to see how much more we could get for our money in a different state, or even just a different part of this state. Of course, who knows how much money we would actually have if we moved elsewhere. It's all about connections and networking and putting yourself out there when you are self-employed as Trever is, but also, carpenters can really work anywhere when you think about it. So this morning, with both babies snoozing, I went on and perused the listings in Maine. I will never leave New England, I can almost 100% guarantee that, and while I sometimes daydream about living in Vermont, I think Maine is really the place I want to be. Having spent time there every summer since I was 7, it just feels like a second home to me. We have friends in Portland. It's not completely out of our reach, to relocate there at some point. Not NOW, but maybe in a couple years, why not?

There are so many cute single family homes for rent. With porches and BACKYARDS. Some even have scenic views. If we went further up coast, we could get even more for our money. Farmhouses, or a dock. I even found an A-FRAME for rent! AN A-FRAME, people! Gahhhhh.

Don't get me wrong. I love living in Massachusetts for many, many reasons. And I think if we had a backyard, I'd probably be less inclined to want to move. I don't need to be in a house, just us. I grew up in a duplex, in a neighborhood with lots of other duplexes, and it was great. BUT we did have a backyard. It didn't have much grass, and it wasn't very big, but it was away from the street and I had a swing set and sandbox. I want these things for my little girl, and I hope it's something we can provide for her sooner than later.

Anyways. Today, instead of bringing me down, it's got me motivated to get our life on track so that in a few years, we can have the space we want/need. And until then, we will make due with our nice cozy apartment that is luckily within walking distant to a playground.

I hear a baby blabbering now, so I guess that's all I've got.

It's weird.

Watching a human grow and change, it's so weird. Hazel's first tooth is starting to poke through. I can feel it. It's sharp. I keep wanting to touch it, and since she likes to chew on my finger, this works out for the both of us. So far, she is handling it pretty well. A little fussy, very drool-y, and not taking naps very well (she doesn't do that anyways) but overall, she is managing. We, the parents, are a different story. OUR BABY HAS A TOOTH. HER GUMMY TOOTHLESS GRIN WILL BE GONE. HOW IS TIME MOVING SO FAST? It makes my head spin. Soon she will be one, then five, then ten, then in high school. Blah blah blah, oh to be a parent.

There's always a lot to do, not enough time, not enough coffee, not enough sleep, but man. Seeing our little girl's big emoji smile and hearing her squeal makes everything 100% worth it (which you will ALWAYS get if you just chant HAZEL HAZEL HAZEL).

real quick.

Even though I rarely update this nowadays, I decided to change the name of this blog to reflect my current situation. I feel sad now that I did it, taking the picture down and replacing it with one of Kiki and Hazel... but we have that picture of Kiki and Roo hanging over our dresser and I look at it many times a day, so I guess it doesn't need to be here, too.

So if you see this, now you know.

I've been busy.

Babies are time consuming. I can certainly see the appeal of going back to work and dropping the tot off at daycare. That's not in the cards for us right now, for a variety of reasons, so I am attempting to be a SAHM. So weird. I don't know that I am cut out for it, really, but I am trying hard.

Hazel is almost five months old. She is starting to sit for longer periods of time. She babbles A LOT. She sleeps through the night in her crib. She does not enjoy tummy time, she does not take naps, and she does not like bottles. She's into Led Zeppelin, Devo, The Cars, and Weird Al, but Tame Impala's newest album seems to be her favorite. And On Top of Spaghetti, sung by me.

Kiki now sleeps under the crib, or in the corner of Hazel's room where we had been working on tummy time (we've since migrated to the living room after a re-arrangement of furniture left us with more space) and is generally grumpy. She is warming up nicely to Hazel, though. She sits near her, will let Hazel grab handfuls of fur and not run away, and will rub up against her play gym. However, she meows more than ever. And louder than ever. It's brutal, honestly. I am a person that really appreciates silence, and it's something I don't have anymore. If Hazel is crying, Kiki is meowing. If Hazel is sleeping and I am enjoying a moment of peace, Kiki is meowing. If I get up to pee at 3 am, there she is, meowing. She is clearly asking for more attention, and I swear I am giving her as much as I can, but nothing is enough. Poor kitty.
I TRYING KIKI, I SWEAR.

Anyways. I've got nothing else to say. My days are a blur, and I now understand about days moving slow but time moving fast.

Thoughts, complaints, etc....

It's hot. I know, it's summer and I live in New England, but damn. These heat waves and the constant humidity suck. We have air conditioners, thankfully, but electricity isn't free. Plus I would like to go outside and get my baby in the fresh air, but the air is so not fresh. It's just gross, like walking into someone's armpit.

Money is tight these days and I am really feeling it. Not working and spending my days with my baby is nice, but the nagging feeling in the back in my head is moving to the front. I need to get Hazel on a nap schedule that doesn't involve only sleeping ON me, because I can't do much when I am acting as her bed. I have so much to list in my long neglected etsy shop, and it would be great to actually sell all the beautiful clothes that are taking up all of our closet space. We desperately need to have a yard sale, too. Our garage is packed with stuff, so much that we can't put the car in it. Our neighbor had one a couple weeks ago, barely advertised, and made $200 in just a few hours, so we really should get our asses in gear and DO IT.

I guess I am still having a hard time getting things done other than taking care of my baby, but my brain is ready to do more.

In baby news, our little girl hit six weeks on Sunday. She has started smiling A LOT. She hasn't laughed yet, but she is SO CLOSE. I think te first thing she will laugh at will be my hair. For some reason, she is very entertained by my hair. Perhaps because it looks like shit? Our very nice friends who have a one year old came to visit last weekend, and they brought me a gift card for a haircut at a nice salon. I can not wait to have a proper haircut! I don't remember the last time I went to a salon. Three years ago? Maybe. Anyways, back to the baby.

She is SO long. With her cloth diapers on, she can already fit into some 3-6 months onesies. They are a little baggy up top, but the ones that fit up top have to be stretched to get over her diapers. It's amazing how much she is changing. She holds her head up pretty well already. She does not enjoy tummy time. She prefers my right boob over my left. She took bottles two days in a row but is now not interested. As much as I would like her to take them, no problem, so that I can go get that haircut or have a couple of cocktails, I did feel a little pain in my heart when she took the bottle. MY BABY DOESN'T NEED ME ANYMORE. I blame it on hormones. I really do want a bloody mary or three.

Kiki is definitely warming up to Hazel. I have a lot of blurry photos of Kiki leaning against me while Hazel sleeps in my lap, and occasionally rubbing her face up against Hazel's feet. This all happened just today, so I guess that's a pretty good time line if I were to compare Hazel to a new kitten that Kiki had to get used to.. big kitten who doesn't need to share the cat pan. She doesn't love her yet, but sitting on the couch with my two babies sleeping on me is pretty awesome.

Five weeks.

That's how long my baby has been living outside of my body!

It's still hard to believe. I haven't had the urge to write here, but it's quiet this morning and I've got a little time to myself so here I am. There are other things I should be doing (folding laundry, making breakfast, working on the baby book) and other things I want to do (go for a walk before it gets balls hot out again, paint my toenails, read) but I will take a few minutes to empty my head.

Our baby was born June 2, 2013 at 6:00 pm, weighing in at a solid 9 lbs 3 oz. She was, and still is, a LONG baby, 21 inches are birth and now 23 1/2 inches. Our doctor told us she is off the charts for her height, which is explains why her arms look long and skinny despite weighing almost 11 pounds now. She has a lot of hair on her little head. It's not clear yet if she will be a ginger, but it's looking that way to me. Her eyes are dark blue right now, which will change. I wonder what color they will be, if she will be a blue eyed girl or have hazel eyes like me and her father.

Speaking of hazel, that is her name. Hazel. She was maybe a Jane up until she was born, but somehow her size and scowl (which she got from her Dad, for sure) made it pretty obvious that a Jane she was not. We waited over a day to decide on her name, so at the hospital her little bed was labeled Babygirl McCullough, which is a pretty awesome name, too. Ultimately we knew she was Hazel, or Hasel, if you are from Germany.

I won't go into the details of her birth, unless I know you and you want to talk about in person over lunch that you bring me, but I will say it was painful and crazy but pretty fast (first contraction around 7:30 am and she was here by 6:00 pm, with a total of 35 minutes pushing) and that I couldn't have done it without Trever or Mary, our wonderful nurse who knew just what to say when Trever didn't. Speaking of him, he was so awesome during labor. No fear or nervousness ever showed on his face or in his voice, he was the rock I needed him to be, and I was so grateful. We fell in love with our baby as soon as we saw her, of course, and our lives are forever changed because of her.

She is now five weeks old. She is just starting to smile. We are adjusting to the laundry routine of cloth diapers. I am actually getting used to the lack of sleep. Some days are harder than others (she can be pretty fussy, as babies are known to be) and there has been lots of crying and tears (hers and mine) but we are finding our groove as a little family more and more each day.

What you really want to know, I'm sure, is how Kiki is adjusting to all of this. Well. She spends a lot of time under the bed and in our closet. She doesn't care so much for the sound of a crying baby. She is curious, but every time she smells Hazel's hair when I am nursing her on the couch, she goes running. But each day she spends a little more time NOT hiding, and she spends a lot of time sleeping under the chair in the nursery. Her meows have gotten louder and more insistent. It's hard to believe that's possible, but it's really as though my cat is yelling at me. She does seem pleased to see me scooping her little box again, though. I don't know if she will ever really warm up to Hazel, but as long as she can co-exist with her and still be content, I will take it. Those first couple weeks when she wouldn't come out except to eat or pee were hard. I felt so many feelings: sad that my cat was miserable and wouldn't sit with me, guilt that I was sad about my cat when I had this new baby, and then all those other feelings you feel when you have a newborn baby. I couldn't look into Kiki's eyes without crying. And then I would think about Roo and look at my baby, forget it. Blubbering idiot over here.

Now Kiki and I are both learning to take advantage of our quiet moments together, and to make the best of the non-quiet times. Sometimes she will lean against me while I am nursing Hazel, and I can put on of Hazel's little hands on Kiki's body, and she will sit there calmly. Patience and baby steps, right?

If you follow me on Instagram or we are friends on Facebook, you've seen plenty of pictures of Hazel already. Maybe I post some on here later, but for now just find me on IG, username: bontielou, and you can get your cuteness fix.

Okay. I think I'm good here for now. Later internet, I am going to snuggle in bed with my family.

May 30th

Today is supposedly the day the baby is due. A due date, like returning library books, only there is no fine if baby is late, which I am presuming will be the case.

I've been thinking a lot of exposure of kids on the various platforms (FB, IG, vine, blogs, etc etc) and wondering how much I will actually comfortable with when it comes to my own kid. I don't see myself ever posting pictures of bare bottoms or sitting on the potty or prancing around in a diaper. I've watched far too much SVU to ever be comfortable with that. I am, by my nature, a bit of an exhibitionist, which is a funny contrast with the introverted part of my personality. If you were to meet me in person, it might take me a long time to open up to you. Probably I wouldn't like you right away. Or you wouldn't like me. I am, after all, kind of a bitch. At the same time, if I feel comfortable with you right off the bat, I will have no problem telling you all sorts of things about me that you probably don't even want to know. Especially if I have a little bourbon in me.

While I may comfortable posting tons of pictures on IG of my face or my feet or my cat or whatever, I don't know think it would be fair of me to do the same with pictures of my baby. I mean, I am sure I won't be able to resist the urge, but I am going to keep in check. I am going to think of my future 8 yr old, 10 yr old, 14 yr old, who may hate me for what I posted on the internet. There are so many ways that parents can embarrass their kids, without involving the internet, so I am going to have to remind myself that I won't want my teenager hating me anymore than the usual amount that teenagers hate their parents.

I am rambling. I am bored. I am going to watch Fringe all day and wait for this baby to show up.

The Waiting Game.

This is where we are at: making no plans, keeping the apartment clean, bags in the car.... just waiting for this baby to show up.

There haven't been too many signs of the arrival, but the doc seemed optimistic at our appointment on friday that baby would make an appearance soon. I'd really like for the tiny human to be early, or at least on time, because I just can't stand when people are late. As Trever puts it, we will really see whose baby this is, based on an early or late arrival. (case in point: he will be late for work today. Why? Cause Kiki MADE him sit on the couch for twenty minutes and pet her. I know she is hard to say no to, but really?)

SO. That's about it. I am in this limbo, waiting until my life is no longer my own. I am worried about money. I am a little, or a lot, nervous about the actual act of giving birth. I hope Kiki isn't too mad at me when I come home from the hospital with a baby. I hope breast feeding will be easy for us. I still need to get a breast pump. It's easy to get caught up in my own head right now.

Luckily I have some projects to keep me busy the next few days (my grammy would be ashamed at how long it's taking me to send out thank you cards) and some crappy tv shows to watch, plus I will need to smother Kiki with love to the point where she is sick of me.

Wish me luck.

Oh, hey there.

Much time has passed. I am nearly 38 weeks pregnant. I have stopped working. I have a new (used) Volvo with a baby seat in it. Kiki's back legs are getting weak. Life is moving.

I am flooded with all the feelings I can feel. Everything makes me cry. I am ready to not be pregnant. But will I miss feeling a foot kick me in the ribs? Maybe, though I look forward to being able to roll over in bed without it feeling like an impossible task. Or you know, to put my shoes on. (I hate wearing flip flops, truly.) I worry about money constantly. I am not reading parenting books. I left my anxiety attacks behind a long time ago and I can only imagine how easy it could be to bring them right back, by questioning every move I make. It's enough that I have to read every review on a pair of baby nail clippers and then still not be able to choose a pair. The last thing I need to is to have to weigh every decision based on different experts' opinions of what is right for my baby, a baby that they do not know. That I don't even know yet.

"We will just have to wait and see" pops up in my head a lot these days. I guess that's okay, though. I've never been a type A sort of gal, I'm not going to become one now, that's for sure. I just need to remember that I can trust my instincts, and that I will know what is right when our little human is in my arms.

I am just still finding hard to believe that in a couple weeks we will have an actual baby in our apartment.
I am also finding it hard to believe that in a couple weeks I will be pushing a baby out of my vagina. Still trying to wrap my head around that one....

Kiki is starting to adjust to me being home. My last day of work was this past thursday, so today was really the first day where I've been home with, since the weekend was busy and we were gone all day yesterday dealing with car stuff. She sleeps so much during the day, but I can tell that when she opens her eyes and sees me, she is happy I am there... especially now, as she is having difficulty jumping up onto the bed and the couch. Trever will soon be building her a ramp to get up onto the bed. That will be fun, as our tiny room is already jammed packed and currently housing a bassinet, but we will do what we have to for our Kiki, as she is the original baby, after all.

With all of my feelings and doubts and emotions, I do know a few things: We are lucky to have our friends & family. Our baby is going to have an awesome dad.... and I can not wait to drink a huge bloody Mary (or two.)

The end of March.

Hard to believe it's here already. Next Sunday marks a year since we lost our sweet Roo cat. I still cry about her. In fact my eyes are spilling over as I type this, and I won't blame it on hormones. Kiki is sitting next to me, a big lump on the couch with her prim little paws and her grouchy old man face, as beautiful as can be. Does she miss her sister? I don't know. The grieving process for cats is not something I am an expert on. When Kiki is dragging her red toy around at night and howling, is she sad? Or just crazy? Has this year pass quickly for her?
I miss Roo everyday. We talked about naming the baby after her, or finding names that have Roo sounds in them (Ruth, Gertrude, etc) but I think we've decided not to do that, though I guess we will just wait and see til we meet the baby. Maybe he/she will look like Roo... black and white with a moustache and a freckle eye and long whiskers.

Does this make me sounds crazy? Perhaps. But I don't give a fuck. Kiki is sixteen now. Sixteen fucking years of my life have been spent with this cat. She is my best friend who never judges me, is never mean to me, is always up for hanging out, and sometimes throws up on my bed. She lays with me when I am sad, she is always happy to see me when I walk through the door. She is funny and bitchy and weird and awesome.... like me.

Trever and I were discussing last night how some people don't understand this bond. And even though he hasn't known her as long as I have, he loves my cat(s) like they are his own. I know some people think it's insane, that we won't go on vacation this summer because we don't want to leave Kiki behind. There are lots of other reasons, too, like not wanting to drive 6 hours with a two month old baby, take an hour ferry ride with a two month old baby, and be on island that is not near anything should anything happen to said two month old baby... but a BIG part of the decision is that I really don't want to leave my cat alone for a week. I fucking LOVE my cat. I would MISS her. She would MISS me. And who knows how much longer we have together?

Kiki has been sleeping in the crib. Trying on the hats I've knit for the baby. Hanging out in the baby's room, puking up hairballs on the floor. And before you feel the need to tell me that it's OMG SO DANGEROUS FOR CATS TO SLEEP WITH BABIES let me just say: I am not an asshole. I am not a fucking moron. I KNOW THIS. Holy fuck. But also... there is no baby here yet. And if Kiki needs to sleep in the crib to establish the fact SHE WAS HERE FIRST, then you better believe I am going to let her. Not to mention, I KNOW my cat, and she does not like children. She is terrified of babies. The first time she met Cassidy, when she was maybe six months old, her tail puffed out and she took off. Those few months when I lived at my sister's house, Cassidy was two. Kiki wanted absolutely NOTHING to do with her. Trever's ten year old sister? OH HELL NO. She doesn't even like his eighteen year old sister. Kiki is not interested in you until you can buy booze. Sure, she will be curious, no doubt. Also, annoyed. But let me assure you all out there in the world, Kiki will not be sleeping in the crib in the baby... because Kiki will be sleeping WITH ME. That's right, I will bedshare with my cat, but not with my kid.

friday: snow day

Trever shoveled the walk this morning, and we took a walk in the snow for coffees & easter candy. Other than that, it's been a day indoors... watched a terrible movie we rented from vudu, started a crappy knitting project (one day I will learn how to read a pattern, I swear), pet Kiki A LOT, ate too many jelly beans and peanut butter eggs, and now we are listening to Childish Gambino on vinyl. Hopefully baby is listening from the womb, cause we LOVE him (too bad his lyrics are not kid-friendly AT ALL.) There is a little dancing happening, by a skinny guy in long underwear, while he sorts out the non-baby crap in the baby room.

Today was supposed to be our 28 wk appt, which will now happen monday evening. It's hard to believe. I thought that time was moving so slow but now all of the sudden it's all very real and very close. Spring is coming and so is this kid. I finally got my registry done, for the most part, and sent out the e-vite to our baby shower. It's non-traditional for sure. The last thing I want to do is sit in a room full of women who watch me open presents and coo over everything and touch my belly. No fucking thanks. We are having it at a bowling alley, which is actually what my sister when she had her shower six years ago. That way, dudes & kids can come, and people can drink beer and bowl instead of just staring at me. Our birthing class is the first weekend of April. We still need to sign up for a CPR class, and I need to send in the application for baby's health insurance (please Mass Health, do not let me down - adding this kid to my policy will make it that I am only working to pay for insurance, and that does not work) as well as figure our our birthing plan. Get the baby out. That's about all I have so far.

We are doing okay, I think. We'd be doing better if we found a bag of cash, but who wouldn't be.

I am going to make cupcakes now.

This sums up Kiki's day.

Slow.

Time is flying but I am not. I move so much slower these days. I can only imagine how I will be moving in one month's time. It's frustrating to need to ask for help at work because I can't move twelve 35lb boxes anymore. If no one is there to help me, I am stuck waiting. And I hate waiting. It's not that I am impatient, it's that I like to move at my own pace, which is generally a little faster than everyone else's. A good example of this: I am perpetually early. I always have been. When I was in high school and I would usher at church on Sundays, I would have to get there by 9:30am, and I was ALWAYS late since I had to rely on my fucking slow ass (ex)step dad to drive me there. I always got to school early, so I would have enough time to goof off, or when I was a senior, enough time to smoke a cigarette across the street and then freshen up in the bathroom before class started. Once I got to college, it was worse. I remember getting to my Painting 1 class and having everything all set up and ready to go by 8 am, even though class didn't begin until 8:30... I was always there before the teacher.

Since I have stopped taking the MBTA to work and have started driving, the only way to not sit in a shit ton of traffic each day is to get to work between 6-6:30 am. The store doesn't open until 8:30, but I always have things to do... unless no one has moved boxes for me the previous day, and then I just have to fuck around or find a few small boxes, or attempt to drag or kick a box down the hall. And then even when I am ready to go, everything just takes longer. I have to stop working so I can pee every half hour to forty minutes. I need more water. Then I need to pee again. Then I need a snack. And another snack. Have to put lotion on my hands from touching cardboard all morning. Have to listen to my coworkers talk about things that I just don't care about.

It's all bugging me.
And now I am at home, and there is still quite a bit to organize and straighten and find homes for, but here I am moving slow, too. I get overheated. I need to pet the cat. My sister calls. I need to sit down. I need second breakfast, and then early lunch, and then lunch dessert. I just can't move as quickly, now that I am carrying around so much extra weight.

I just want things to be done. I want to find a dresser/changing table for the baby room. I want to find a home for all the guitars. I want the turtles to stop fighting and just eat their damn fish. I want to find my muffin pan so I can make cupcakes and eat three of them. WHO LOSES A MUFFIN PAN? Apparently me.

Wow. That was all a big long whine. Sorry about that. On a good note, I can now SEE my stomach move when I feel the baby move. Fucking WEIRD and COOL and totally like a science project.

Currently.

I am tired.

There is a crib in our apartment.

I think Kiki is mad at me.

We finally have a shelving unit for our records which we bought (reluctantly) from IKEA.

It's 55 degrees out today.

We still have a lot of stuff to unpack.

My niece's 6th birthday is this weekend and her party is at a roller skating rink. (I will not be skating but I am making Trever.)

For Valentine's Day we went to Target so I could buy underwear that fit.

Someone at work keeps eating my cheese sticks.

Someone else at work keeps putting the toilet paper and paper towels on the WRONG way.

My annoyance at things that I shouldn't care is reaching an uncontrollable level. (Sorry for being a total bitch.)

My back, feet, and pelvic bone hurt.

Water gives me acid reflux.

I have chocolate chip gelato to eat tonight.

BYE.

Just in case you are interested:

I have a Vine account. I am really only using it for videos of Kiki, because we all know the internet is made for CATS. Enjoy these fine moments with my furry best friend:

Follwing Kiki

Still Following Kiki

My username is bontielou, if you want to see more Kiki videos and the occasional turtle.

Snowcation.

In case you live under a rock and didn't hear, we in the northeast got hit with a pretty big snowstorm over the weekend. It started Friday morning, and luckily both Trever & I were off from work that day. Friday night we lost power. We woke up to a chilly apartment Saturday, and it was still snowing. All told we got about two feet, with big snow drifts, and virtually our whole town lost power. It was pretty and exciting for about an hour, and then it became annoying real fast. We had plans to get so much unpacking done and finish moving over the last of our other belongings from our old place, but obviously the weather didn't let that happen. And it's hard to unpack when you are wearing two pairs of pants, three shirts, a sweater, and slippers, and you are still cold. Saturday night we went to sleep with every blanket on the bed, layers of clothing, and I kept my hat on. Sunday morning our apartment was a toasty fifty degrees. The turtles were in near hibernation mode. I think the only one who didn't mind was Kiki. The cold floor wasn't a good spot to lay, but for the most part she didn't leave her spot on the couch, where she spends most of her time anyways. No heat, no hot water, and no electricity for a little over two days, and let me tell you, I have no interest in living in a cabin in the woods. I APPRECIATE these modern miracles, yes I do.

Here I am standing in front of a giant snow pile:

I ended up missing two more days of work, because I couldn't get there on Sunday, and yesterday we had an doc appt in the middle of day and it didn't make sense to go in for only a couple hours when the state is still recovering from the storm. (Schools are still canceled even though it's in the 40's today. There is just piles of fucking snow EVERYWHERE.)

So in the four days off, you'd think I would manage to be productive.
And if you think that, you are pretty wrong.

The only thing I really managed to do, other than bake non stop to stay warm and wash the dishes in pots of water in the bathtub, was to start creating my baby registry. IT'S COMPLICATED STUFF, MAN. I am not a gear person, especially not baby gear! Also everything feels so expensive. We are pretty cheap at living, so it feels weird to pick out one thing that costs of hundreds of dollars, that isn't something that goes under my car's hood. Throughout this pregnancy I've learned to let go of my pride a little bit more and actually ask for help when I need it, and I think once we have this little person, it will be even easier for us to do this. A big part of this is allowing family & friends to buy us the things we will need. I just hope that people stick to the script, so to speak. As in, PLEASE buy us the things we are registering for and not a bunch of outfits & toys. Clothes and toys will come in the way of a million hand-me-downs, so just buy us a car seat and portable washer and call it good. My aunt ordered the crib last night. It will get to us in a couple weeks, which means the six crates of records and my organ need to a new home, pronto. It's all becoming VERY real.

(oh and quick cervical update: It's all looking good... which leads me to believe that the first measurement was taken incorrectly and they just don't want to admit it. Either way, we are RELIEVED.)

We moved.

The past couple of weeks have been fairly crazy. We moved on Saturday, so the week prior was spent working and packing. Then from Sunday on has been spent working and unpacking. It turns that out that I don't have enough energy to do all of this, not while cooking a baby, so we are not as settled as I would like to be. Trever has been really great, working his butt off, not sleeping enough, but hey, he can pound the coffees down and I can't, so fair is fair.

The first night there was particularly hard on Kiki. She was up all night. Not that she sleeps through the night, ever, but she was on the bed, meowing in my ear, dragging her plastic weeble feather toy around, basically non stop. I didn't sleep, because she wouldn't let me. And before you suggest that I just close the door and shut her out, I will tell you now that I will never ever do that. Since that night, she has started getting used to her new space. Friends brought us over a new(used) couch, so for the first time in years we have a couch that is big enough for more than two people to sit on. Kiki's first reaction was WHERE IS MY COUCH but she has now warmed up to our new blue giant. Piles of catnip and stinky fish treats have helped in this process. I think once we really get unpacked, she will start to relax more, but for now I have resigned myself to the fact that I need to spend at least an hour and half laying with her when I get home each day, to soothe her stressed old lady nerves. (Like I really mind taking a daily nap with my best friend, please.)

I don't know where my clothes are... which is of little consequence since I only have a few items that fit me anyways. I am wearing the same top today that I wore on Monday. It's clean, though, I promise.

We still have stuff left at the old place, which we were planning on moving over this Saturday, but it looks like we are shaping up to get almost two feet of snow Friday night into Saturday morning, throwing a real big wrench in our plans. We will do as much as we can tomorrow morning before the snow hits (probably won't be much since I can't lift much and it will just be the two of us) and then we will hunker down for the next two days and unpack as much as we can.

I know I am supposed to be getting all excited about picking out baby things but honestly the whole thing is a little daunting, especially when the baby's room is filled with every other thing we own. Seriously, every book, every record, all my clothes, many guitars, and a variety of other junk cover every inch of the floor. We are going to have a killer yard sale in the spring, just you wait.

Oh, this little starseed I am growing is 24 weeks today. I feel the movements but they are mostly on my bladder. I am looking forward to the day when I get kicked in the ribs for a change.

Two recent shots of Kiki

Maybe I am biased, but I am pretty sure I have the prettiest cat in the world.

The baby gets a room.

We found an apartment. It's more than we wanted to spend but it's in our current neighborhood, has a screened in porch for Kiki, a garage, wood floors, and a room for the baby. It may actually be the same size our current place, just a different layout and bigger & nicer bathroom. Our tub here is deep but kind of short. The new tub will be big enough for a more pregnant me to take a proper bath. I am looking forward to that. This whole time of being pregnant, I didn't let myself think about decorating a nursery cause I imagined we wouldn't have one, so now that we do I can finally let myself get excited about that. Not that we will have much money to do anything with, but I bet we can make a cozy space for our tiny human without too much effort or spending.

Of course now comes the hectic pack & move process. The new place is so close to this one that I could walk to it in five minutes, if that, so I don't need to go crazy when I pack up the Pyrex. When we moved in here, we rented a truck, and the back of the truck was stacked with boxes and boxes of Pyrex. Maybe 18 meticulously packed boxes? A little crazy, I know. And since then I am pretty sure we've added more pieces to the collection. I realized last night that I could probably just use laundry baskets and linens, wrap the pyrex up in the sheets and blankets, and fill up the baskets. It will only take two minutes in the car and a trip up the stairs and BAM, it's done. We will have, at the least, three weeks to move, and up to 5 weeks depending on when the realtor gets our current place rented. So in the next three weeks, Trever will paint the new place, and I will attempt to thin out our belongings while I pack (but do not lift) boxes.

Of course I would like to start right away, but guess who has a cold again? THIS LADY. I feel like my fucking head is in a vice, and nothing will drain from my nose. I used my neti pot last night, and I did get some mucus to come out of my EYE.

I think Kiki is going to be pissed to move again, at first. The past year has been stressful on her: losing her sister, moving to a new place without her sister, us leaving her for a week in the new place after we moved in, and not having the freedom to go on a porch like she did at our old place. It has not be officially diagnosed in her, but I think she has feline hyperesthesia. I started thinking it after we went away for a night to our friends' wedding, and when we got back the next day, Kiki had a bald spot at the base of her tail on her back. She had lick herself bald! Since then, her fur has grown back, but it's a sensitive spot on her. All the other descriptions of feline hyperesthesia fit her. It's weird. When I read it the first time, I was stunned. THIS IS DESCRIBING MY CRAZY CAT. When I mentioned it to our vet, he didn't exactly listen. He knows I spend too much time googling cat info. It's diagnosed by testing for lots of other things and ruling them out, which means $$$$, something he knows we don't have a ton of. And she is fifteen years old so I am not crazy about running a battery of tests on her. The treatments for it are varied - a change in diet, increased exercise, anti-depressants. I don't want Kiki on Prozac. So we just live with and love our crazy cat.

Our new porch is fully screened in, and we will be able to leave our kitchen window open once it's warm enough so she will have access to an almost outdoor space all the time. I will make Trever put up a bird feeder. We will grow cat grass and cat nip and she will basically have a salad bar. I will spoil her rotten for as long as she lets me.

Let's hear it for sleepless nights!

Despite my exhaustion, the past few nights I've found myself not being able to sleep. My brain can't shut down. I sleep lightly when I do sleep, the slightest sound wakes me up. Last night it was the sound of Kiki throwing up a hairball, then just throwing up, a little food, a leaf, and some spit. Get up, clean the floor, make sure she doesn't have vom on her pretty fur, and then back to bed is the standard routine for 3 am cat barfs, which are a pretty regular part of our lives. The first warning cough from a cat's mouth can wake me from the deepest of sleeps, thanks for the couple of years with my sick Roo-cat. It's like a bat signal for me. We joke that Roo was just prepping us for what it will be like with a newborn. Luckily Kiki's are either hairballs or this weird vindictive way of getting me to wake up earlier than 5 am to feed her. "I am so hungry, look I am spitting up on the floor" and then it's MEOW MEOW MEOW PURRRRRR FEED ME. She never throws up in the daytime. It's only between 3 and 4 am. This morning though, instead of going back to bed, I went to lay on our tiny couch. Kiki joined me, and it's the only spot where she will actually lay ON me. In bed it's always next to me, in the crook of my arm, or on a pillow just at the tops of our heads. But on the couch, she will get right on me. Especially now. I think she likes the baby, (I hope she does) and it seems the baby likes her, for whenever she lays on my stomach and purrs, the kicks are more frequent. So either the baby is enjoying her, or maybe the baby hates her. Not that anyone could ever hate Kiki, it's impossible. I fell asleep for a half hour or so, scrunched in an uncomfortable position on the two seater couch, with Kiki asleep on my belly and an afghan half covering us, and it was probably the most peaceful thirty minutes of sleep I've had in a long time.

This morning is full of coffee and orange juice and attempting to be productive. Here I go.

(Last night I read about diapers and baby baths. It never ends.)

Curved, not short.

So the most recent verdict on my cervix is just that: curved, not short. Good news, folks. This means I can resume working forty hours a week as of next week.... just when I'd gotten used to the early days and spending my afternoons with Kiki! But really, it's a good thing, in terms of money.

I spent hours last night reading about strollers. WHO AM I? I don't even know. I have no idea how/why people choose what they do. I guess I will have to go a baby store and test drive some. All of this just feels so foreign to me. I am imagining myself with carseats and strollers and breast pumps, and it's like that scene in Overboard (THE BEST MOVIE OF ALL TIME) where she is shoving the raw bird in the pot on the stove top and trying to cram it's legs in, then burns herself trying to light the burner.

Obviously I am nervous & paranoid, probably more than I need to be. I mean, I babysat my niece when she was a little baby, and it was always fine. I never had problems with diaper changes or the car seat or the stroller. So I guess I should remind myself that I don't need worry too much about those things, and allow myself instead to worry about breast feeding and the act of giving birth.

I don't feel like talking about this anymore. It's on my mind all the time and quite frankly, I am boring myself.

I am going to pet my cat and feed her rabbit treats by hand because she is the original baby.

Try to be positive, I hear it helps.

Yesterday I got some news which threw us for a loop. It's not a health related, thankfully, but money related. Let's be clear here: we are not financially ready to have a baby. Seeing that we never thought I could physically get pregnant, it was something we didn't have to worry about. Just so long as we could pay our rent, pay our bills, feed ourselves, and buy Kiki's expensive prescription food, plus save a little, we were good. Then the pregnancy happens, and it all changes.

Somehow, six plus years ago when I signed up for my insurance and everything else, I didn't sign up for the short term disability plan. I guess because I was young(ish) with no family to worry about, or maybe just because I am stupid sometimes. Well, this poor decision means that I will have no money when I am on maternity leave. I didn't find out about this until yesterday, as the past few months I comforted myself with the thought that I would get twelve weeks of short term disability pay. I sat down with my boss yesterday to discuss things, I felt good, mostly, even when she gave me the numbers for how much my insurance will cost when I am not working (as I will have to pay the full amount) and had confidence that we would manage to get buy with less money.

Only a few minutes later she came to find me, to tell that our HR lady informed her that I never signed up for the short term disability. She obviously felt terrible telling me this. It felt like someone not only slapped me in the face but also punched me in the stomach, kicked me in the vagina, and proceeded to pummel my back when I was down. I put on my most brave-I-don't-care face and told her we would work it out somehow. Then I went back to my desk and cried.

By then my four hour work day was over, so I went to my car and cried more. Then I drove home, crying, and basically spent the whole night crying as well.

I woke up this morning with the worst headache of my life and no closer to figuring out how we will do this, but knowing that crying and crying about it isn't going to magically make money appear, so I should probably stop doing that. This is one of those times in life where thinking positively sounds like it could help, but it SO HARD TO DO. I know my mom will help us as much as she can. And I am looking into state health insurance for the baby (if I get the baby insurance through work, I am basically working only to pay for insurance and nothing else) but wading through the government websites is so tedious and confusing. Not something to do with a groggy snot-filled head a day after you've cried for over eight hours. I have a little while to sort out that part, anyways.

Now is one those times when I hate this country and it's fucked up backwards way of treating women, and people, in general. I would love to have universal healthcare and paid maternity leave. It would be worth it to pay more taxes to know that these services were always going to be there, that if you were sick you could see a doctor, that if you had a baby you wouldn't risk losing your job and your livelihood while you stayed at home with your newborn. Greatest country, my ass.

There's only so many options we have at this point. It's time for me to bite the bullet and start selling off some of my Pyrex collection (you've been waiting for me to do that, soon you will get your wish!) and getting serious about loading my Etsy shop up with all the treasures I've been hoarding. Making a real budget, doing meal plans, comparing grocery fliers are all things we will need to start doing seriously, not just every so often when we feel inspired. We don't go out to eat, we don't go to movies, we rarely do anything outside of the home that costs money, so we don't need to change that part of life too much, which is nice. We may see if we can stay here in this apartment awhile longer. It's too small for sure, but I just don't see how we will have the money to move, and it's not like the baby will know that it doesn't have a room anyways. I guess moving with a six month old will be just as annoying as moving when I am six months pregnant.

LOOK, I am not trying to be all woe is me. I know that people with way less have babies every day and make it work. And so will we. We have support of family and friends, and though we may have no money, we have a whole lot of LOVE, which is something that not everyone with a big house and fancy cars has. And LOVE is worth more than money, right?

At least I know our kid won't be spoil. See me, being positive??

(I regret buying that coat now but what's done is done. Oh, my boobs are still really fucking itchy.)

Just thought I would mention these things,

In case any of you care:

1. I am having, without a doubt, the worst gas of my life. I am so relieved that I am not taking the train to work anymore, as holding it in for an hour each way, while doable, was sort of stressful. When I am at home, I just let it go. I keep matches nearby. It's terrible, but also fun to dutch oven Kiki. (She doesn't mind at all.)

2. As of now, I am still do not need to go on bed rest. I have another appointment next week to check my progress. This is good news. Maybe I just have a Dynamic Cervix. (capitalized cause I think it would make a good title for a song or a poem, or maybe a band name.)

3. I broke down just after Christmas and ordered a coat. I used some of the money my sister gave us for Christmas. Trever was happy to use our gift this way, even though there were plenty of others ways for us to use it. My coat was not zipping up anymore, and we still have a few more month of weather to deal with. I spent hours upon hours looking at maternity coats online, and came to the conclusion that pregnant ladies apparently like to walk around in giant belted sleeping bags during the winter. NO THANKS. I've never liked those puffy coats, why would want to look even puffier now that I am already am? The non puffy coats are all cheaply made or too itchy or have some god awful belt. I just can't get down the belted coat look, sorry. And then I found this. It was more than I wanted to spend, that's for sure, especially with the added shipping, but then I got to thinking about it, and I realized that the only new coats I've ever owned were gifts that my sister got me. Everything else has been from the thrift store, and I have been 100% okay with that, but I am THIRTY FOUR FUCKING YEARS old and if I want to buy a coat that I don't fucking hate when I am pregnant, then I should be able to do it! SO I DID. (and since the money came from my sister, it's almost like she just bought me another coat.) It came yesterday. It's glorious! And I will definitely be able to wear it when I am NOT pregnant. It's lined, but not puffy or bulky at all. The hood is a little gnome-like, but I am okay with that. The color is awesome. The twill is soft. The lining is fleece, which I usually HATE, but this fleece is not that the kind that gives me chills all over my body and makes me want to grind my teeth and punch things. Of course this week is unusually warm and I don't need to wear it. Thanks, global warming.

4. My boobs are itchy.

And that's all I've got.

Edited to add: I just went back to April's posts and cried. I miss my Roo-cat every single god damn day. I am so grateful that we still have Kiki, and it's hard to imagine that I will ever be without her. Can we just name our baby KikiRoo? Or Rookiki? That wouldn't be that weird, right?

I learned a thing.

Did you know that you can have a short cervix? It's true. And I have one. We found out on New Years Eve. Way to ring in 2013!

What does this mean? That there is a higher chance of preterm labor. One in two, really. We spent too long googling things and getting upset. A few days later, I am in a little better frame of mind about it, mostly because I have to be.

I am taking progesterone, which will hopefully help. I am on pelvic rest (no orgasms.) My work schedule has been cut in half, which is nice for Kiki and bad for my checking account. I am trying to take it easy, but when I am supposed to be resting is when I feel like I need to do things. (Funny how that works, when I have a lot to do is when I want to do nothing.) I have some crappy Y/A books to read, and I have my laptop. There is always SVU when all else fails me.

At least it's cold out. Then I don't feel so annoyed about laying on my bed for hours at a time with Kiki sleeping like a fur lump next to me.

(oh the baby? The baby is doing great. Just gotta keep in there as long as possible.)