Wednesday

Hello everyone!

Today is a bit better, though I'm still feeling pretty glum. Still no ironworker work for Ian today, he's back at the lube place. Tomorrow he is taking the day off from both places to help clean up the house some before we head off to Regina on Friday morning.

Yesterday didn't get much better after my last update. I went to pick Ian up from work, and Mary and I decided that the best thing to do when strapped for cash is to spend more money going out for supper. So, we decided to head off to a chain restaurant that we have a great deal of experience eating at, and is tied in to my family via my fathers brother. It was one of the worst dining experiences I've had in a while. It took a long time to get our drinks, we ordered, and waited forever for our food. Ian and mine came with Mary's nowhere in sight. I looked at mine and realized that instead of the no green peppers that I had requested, they had given me double green peppers. I finally managed to get ahold of our waiter and he apologized and said he would get it replaced right away. I also asked after Mary's meal, and he stammered that he forgot to put it in, but would get it rushed out right away. Mary's meal showed up about 10 minutes later, mine did not. Ian finished his supper, Mary finished hers and started getting grumpy and bored. The waiter showed up to let me know that they had just put in my meal, and it would be another ten minutes or so. We ended up leaving before Mary had a complete melt down, and before I had a chance to eat anything at all. I was incredibly unhappy, and while it wasn't a big thing, after the day I'd had, it sure felt like it.

D&D last night was great fun though, for which I was thankful. Our friend T, with the kewlest character eh-VAR! kept me in stitches all night long, and when he wasn't making me giggle, Rico took over.

Mary was sick in the car again on the way home last night, so I think we need to alter our lifestyle. Up too this point she has been very portable, and if we want to do stuff, we just pack her up and get her settled in her playpen at bedtime. Waking her up to go home was never really a problem before, but it seems to be getting harder and harder on her, and really, it just isn't fair to do to her anymore. This is the 3rd time she has reacted to the late night wake-up this way in just over a week, and I don't want to do it too her anymore. So, we are going to cut out the majority of our late night outings pretty shortly, and we are likely going to have our next Tuesday game here in our teeny tiny house.

For those of you who have sent best wishes after yesterday, thank you very much. There really isn't much need to start a fundraising drive for the crappy taurus just yet though. We are heading to Regina on Friday, and we were planning on begging a few thousand dollars off my dad to fix up the house so as to make it more saleable anyways....so, we will just beg for a little bit more to fix the piece of crap. Ian spoke with his boss over at the lube place, and he is okay with the car staying there for a week or so till we can get things organized.

Oh, and I just peeked in on Mary having a nap, she's fast asleep on her bed and stark naked once again. It's time to start duct-taping the diapers on, I think.

Updatish

It seems that the Ford Taurus is well known for the exact problem we had with ours this morning. In fact, there is a recall because of this problem on several Taurus models, 2001 models and older to be exact. We are completely and utterly out of luck, as our car is a 2002 model. I looked online and was amazed by the number of people complaining of this problem in their 2002 models. I phoned Taurus, and spoke to a friendly fellow named Joe, who after a lot of typing in his computer and a phone call to our dealership (which Ian had already called) told me that there is nothing at all to be done, we are stuck to fix the problem without any help. I called Transport Canada to lodge a complaint, but they're closed right now because of time differences. I'll call again tomorrow. Even if we don't get any assistance fixing our car, I want to make sure that a lot of people know that I'm very unhappy.

Mary stripped during her "nap time" today. Shirt, pants, socks and diaper. Then she pissed all over her bedroom floor, chair, stuffed animals and bed. Yippee. Good thing she's so cute.

When It Rains, It Pours.

We were getting ahead, really, we were. We had cut down on the majority of our frivolous spending, we hardly eat out anymore (compared to how we used to eat). We were careful to keep up on our bills and we still managed to buy groceries. Yes, it was tight, but we were doing it. Then Ian froze his fingers and missed a bit of work. Then the guys he works for discovered that although they had lots of work to do, for some reason they couldn't get the bits and pieces they needed to do the work, in spite of having ordered those bits and pieces weeks ago. A couple of short days last week, one day not worked at all, yesterday Ian was told that if we wanted, we could leave for Regina today, as there was likely no work for him for the rest of the week. We can't afford this. To make matters worse, on his way to the Lube place to put in some (all be it lower paid) hours, something happened to the Taurus. It started driving funny halfway there, and when he got there he realized that the front suspension had broken, and sent a spring shooting through the brand new front tire. He phoned around, of course our expensive warranty doesn't cover suspension work, and it looks to be around $1000. He spoke to a guy at the Ford dealer where we bought the car, and he said that this is a very common problem in older Tauruses. Um. Well gee, guy, thanks for telling us that now, and older?? The car is only 5 years old, for crying out loud. We still owe around fifteen thousand on it, last I checked. Thankfully we still have the van, but that leaves us with a fifteen thousand dollar heap of metal that we simply cannot afford to fix, and me without a vehicle yet again. The weather is getting nicer, but taking Mary on the bus is a chore at the best of times. I have to walk for about 30 minutes after or before a 2 hour bus ride just to get to my Dr.'s office, which is a drive that takes about 10 minutes if the traffic is bad. Going anywhere south of the river is just a nightmare, even getting to the closest mall takes about an hour on the bus.

The move to Regina is looking likelier and likelier, and looks to be happening sooner and sooner, if things keep up like this. I'm thinking that instead of the somewhat major work we had been thinking of doing to make the house more sellable, we will do some minor touch ups, scrub the place down (and boy does it need a scrub) and hope for the best. My dad told me yesterday that he would happily help with moving expenses and a down payment on a place in Saskatchewan, and we just recently found some new 3 bedroom townhouses that are being built in the city for relatively cheap. I just don't know, it seems like every time I/we manage to dig ourselves out, be it financially or emotionally, the world winds up and gives us a good hard kick in the junk to keep us down.

A Morning Conversation (and some rambling)

Mary: Hello! Hello Mummy! Hello! Hi! (Incredibly cheerfully, in spite of having been up till 3 AM jumping on her bed)

Me: Good morning Mary. (Incredibly grumpy. Sleep did not come easily last night due to a multitude of reasons, Mary's late night shenanigans being the least of them)

Mary: Morning! Hi Mummy! Where Daddy?

Me: Daddy's at work.

Mary: Oh. Daddy work. Bum? Bum! (at this point she charges to the diapers and selects one to hand to me)

Me: Yes, let's change your diaper.

Mary, upon being lifted up to have her diaper changed: Bum. Yucky bum. Whee! Diaper! Mummy glasses? Where glasses? Yucky bum. Pants! Up Pants! Breakfast?

Me: Yes, that's a dirty diaper, now you have a nice clean one on your bum. I'm not wearing my glasses yet.

Mary: Oh. eyes. Yoghurt?

Me: Okay, let's get you breakfast.

Mary: Yay! Yoghurt! Breakfast! Fridge! Highchair! Yoghurt! Spoon! UP highchair!

Me: (quietly following her orders, I get her breakfast and get her into her highchair.)

Mary: All Done! Down! Mummy? Down! Glasses! TV. TV. TV OFF! (gets increasingly whiney) OOOOOFFFFF. TV OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFFFFFFFF!

Me: The TV is off. Do you want it on now?

Mary: TV on now. ON. Blanket please.



So, I turned it on, and other than the occasional comment on what pops up on the screen she's been pretty quiet. Anyways...can you believe that I was concerned about her speech development only 2 weeks ago? I certainly cannot.

I think it's been a long while since I posted here last, mostly just because I've been bored. Not a lot is going on lately other than the usual, and both Mary and I have been feeling just a wee bit under the weather. I'll be glad when this very long cold season is finally over, hopefully it will end.

The weather has been wonderful lately, all the snow is melting which Mary just LOVES. We've gone out the last couple of days just to walk around the block and stomp in as many puddles as we can. Pretty soon we can take out the trike that her Nana Cookie gave her for her birthday, I'm certain she'll be thrilled.

Yesterday I had yet another ultrasound. It was just a follow up from the last time I was bleeding, and things are looking good. It seems that this baby will be a giant too (really, it already is) unless it decides to come early. Even if it does come quite early though, I suspect it will be as big as most average sized babies out there. Sigh. Anyways, it was nice to see the baby again, it's growing like crazy and currently in a breech position, with its feet up by its head. The U/S tech actually watched her kick her own face for a while before moving on. Oh, and he also confirmed that this baby is definately a girl, so it looks like I am following the family tradition. All my cousins who have had children have had the first two girls, and then a boy after that. Only 14 weeks left of this miserable pregnancy! Yay!

Perfectly Average

Mary had her speech and language assessment this morning, and it went very well. It was a one on one with a S&L pathologist, and Mary was incredibly cute and charming, and used just about every word in her vocabulary. She even strung a couple words together once or twice! After talking to me, obeserving and playing with Mary, our SLP declared Mary to be mostly average. She is a tad bit above average for her receptive language (understanding) and a bit below average for her expressive language. It's pretty much exactly what I expeted her to say, and I'm quite glad with how things went. She gave me some suggestions on how to help Marys language, but everything she suggested I have already been doing. Raven gave me the same suggestions a while back, and they seem to be working quite well. The only thing I haven't been doing enough of is waiting long enough for Mary to repeat what I say. She was a little concerned when I mentioned how much Mary hates other children her own age and smaller, so she is going to talk to some other people about that issue and get back to me. I'm mostly concerned about it because of the baby coming in June. Mary is terrified of babies right now, and I really would like to deal with that issue before she becomes a big sister.

Not much else going on since yesterday. Oh, and for those of you who have asked, yes, I was dead serious when I mentioned news shows discussing grief councelling about the trade of Ryan Smyth to the New York Islanders. I couldn't make that up.

She Said She Didn't Give a F**k About Hockey

Oh, the good old hockey game!
it's the best game you can name!
And the best game you can name,
is the good old hockey game!

I am so very sick of Hockey. I cannot express how tired of hearing about Mark Messier and what a wonderful thing hockey is. Seriously. Hopefully the whole thing will be finished now. Anyways, Mark Messier was in town to be celebrated for playing hockey and making way too much money doing it. Don't get me wrong, of all the hockey players out there Mr. Messier is my favourite. I've always found him incredibly sexy in a big, brutish, dangerous and ugly sort of way, he was the centre of many or my most heated teenaged fantasies. So, all anyone could talk about for the last couple of weeks was Mark, which street name to change, how fantabulous he was for the city of Edmonton, blah blah blah. I thought that things would finish with the big ceremony that went on last night and that I wouldn't have to hear any more about hockey other than the regular reports that the Oilers had lost yet again. The news today was all about Mark Messier, how wonderful he is, and how super cool hockey and people who love hockey are. I was impressed to see that Gord Downie and the Tragically Hip were in town today, though when they interviewed him about writing a song about Mark, Gord mentioned that it's hard to find a rhyme for Messier.

The other big hockey news is about the Ugliest Man Ever, Ryan Smyth. He has played in Edmonton for years and yesterday he was traded to the New York Islanders. There were people literally bawling about it on the news (one woman kept goiing on about how she has a 6 year old son, and how will she explain this too him? *sob* she's just so very angry, how could they do this? *sob*), and they actually had a very serious bit about how to seek out grief councelling in this dificult time. WTF?? Grief councelling? Recognizing stress in your children? Because an overpaid oaf is moving to New York? Please. There are so many more important things that we should be worrying about, that we ought to be grieving about...it really makes me quite ill.

In other news, Mary, Jonah, Jonah's mum and I all went off to the water park in The Big Mall yesterday afternoon. Every tuesday and thursday afternoons they shut down the waterslides and only charge 5 dollars admission. The wave pool is still on, as are the various kiddie areas, and it is wonderfully uncrowded. We had a tonne of fun, Mary LOVED the waves, and when I finally dragged her out of there her lips were blue and she was shivering like crazy, but she was desperate to stay just a little bit longer. Also, she actually slept at naptime yesterday, I guess the trick is 2 hours in the pool.

Toddler Blogging

This is why she is still alive. Good lord is she ever cute.






Yesterday we finally had enough junk taken out of the house that we could actually put together the easel that we bought Mary for her birthday. She was giddy with delight, and wanted to share the whole experience with us. If either Ian or I left the room, she would run out and drag us back, babbling excitedly as she handed us a carefully selected crayon. She'd scribble on the paper for a while, and then get so excited that she had to jump up and down and stomp her feet before continueing. She's also learned to say "Cheese!" somewhere whenever she spots the camera, and strike a pose. In both the pictures I posted here she was striking her favourite pose, elbow in the air and head tilted to one side. Have I mentioned how damned cute she is.

Yesterday wasn't all colouring and cuteness, mind you. We went grocery shopping, and I decided to take her for a walk through the mall while Ian found a parking spot. She was great, and happy, and then I tried to get her away from those stupid cars and she Flipped Out. Some old lady came and made sympathetic noises to Mary as she was alternately flinging herself to the floor to scream and lick it, and trying to kick and hit me. It took every ounce of my willpower to remain polite and not to tell the old broad to F-off, yes we are fine, no, she's not a sweet little angel, as you can bloody well see, and yes, I see that she must be a little bit tired. Once I got her into Safeway, Ian was waiting with a fancy truck shaped cart for Mary to ride in. She cheered right up when she spotted that, but it took me a few minutes to get over the urge to leave her in the mall.

Saturday was a fantastic day, not one temper tantrum all day long. She was cute and cuddly and friendly. I wish every day was like that. I was freaky exhausted though, and ended up not going to the birthday party like I planned. By time Ian got home from work, I was fast asleep on the couch surrounded by cats and a sleepy toddler. I suspect it had something to do with not getting home till after 2 am the night before.

Ians fingers are doing okay. At least, the majority of them are. His middle finger on his right hand is definately still the worsst, the whole tip has turned quite black and icky. Yesterday he decided to be nice and do some dishes for me which I appreciated greately, but it did disgusting things to that finger, now it's peeling and big chunks of black skin are starting to come off. barf. On the positive side, beneath one of the big black chunks I spotted some pink skin, which means that there is still circulation to the tip of his finger! While most of it will slough off, it looks like he won't lose the whole tip of the finger and it will eventually heal.

Sucking Happily

This week got progressively better since my last post. I think it helped just to type out how I was feeling and share it with the world at large, though I do feel bad. I can't help but feel selfish and self absorbed....but then again, what is a blog if not an exercise in self absorbtion?

So, Wednesday night, around 3 AM, I woke up feeling strange, I remember thinking that if I wasn't pregnant and I felt that way, I would expect my period to start the next day. I also remember thinking that if I woke up in the morning bleeding I'd be awfully angry. Of course, I woke up Thursday morning and was bleeding. I phoned my Dr's office, and after some effort managed to talk to his nurse. She reccomended that I head in to the hospital to get things checked out. So, after some panicking about what to do with Mary and an almost tearful phone call to Ian in Camrose via his bosses cell phone, I headed off to Labour and Delivery. I hung around, was poked and prodded, had my patchikaka peered at, discussed the merits of the new HPV vaccine with the young lady doctor and was told that yes, I was in fact bleeding from my uterus again, but the baby's heartbeat was strong and normal. I should get an ultrasound within the next week, and if the bleeding got worse, came with contractions or I stopped feeling the baby move I should boot it back to the hospital. I was then escorted to the outpatient ultrasound clinic to book an appointment. As I was booking the appointment with a lady whose grasp on english was iffy at best, one of the techs wandered by and said "I can get you in right away!" So, I had an ultrasound right then and there. They found a small separation in the membranes (whatever that means) that is the source/left over from the last bleed I had, but no clots. Then we watched as the baby booted the crap out of that one spot, likely being the reason for the most recent bleeding. Other than that everything looked normal, the baby was very healthy and according to their measurements, it is already very large (2lbs already, and I'm only 23 weeks along!). I did learn one disturbing piece of information though....In about 15 years I will have two teenaged girls in my home. The thought terrifies me. Actually, I'm thrilled to be having another girl, I was kind of hoping that it would be a girl anyways, I'm just not looking forward to the teen years.

Ians work took the day off on Friday due to a forecast winter storm that never actually showed up, so we had a nice day together. We took Mary to meet Raven and her youngest at an indoor playground in Sherwood Park. The first time Mary went there she wouldn't release the death grip she had on my finger, but yesterday she started to play after about 10 minutes of finger clinging and shyness. She had a blast, and my favourite part was when she would do something fun, then run and grab Ian and I to share it with us. She's becomming such a neat little person (when she's not having a rage fit), I'm really enjoying watching her grow up. After we left the playground, we all drove off to The Big Mall to have a bite to eat and to find a new bathing suit for Mary. I have bought her last couple of suits at Old Navy, but when we went there yesterday the only ones they had were absurdly sexy bakini's. I guess I must be alone in this, but I really think that sexualizing little girls is gross, not cute. We eventually found a nice red one peice with no sexy parts at all (I actually found a one piece at old navy that had these bizarre triangles outlining where the boobs would be if a 2 year old was a full grown woman. Ick). We also ended up getting ourselves cell phones. Another thing I don't really like, but I've been stressing out more and more lately about what will happen if I go into labour and can't get ahold of Ian, so now that isn't an issue. We got a halfway decent deal on the two phones and our plan is more designed for people who want to phone eachother rather than do a lot of phoning to many different places. Also, my phone is a very pretty pink colour.

The Purgatory game was last night. It went well, with some excitement, though I mostly sat by myself. I'm having a hard time playing a character that is almost universally disliked and whose boyfriend tends to forget that she is a real person and not a figment of his imagination. I enjoy the evil shenanigans that I can get up too in the downtime, as long as I'm careful I can do just about anything without worrying about there being any meaningful punishment (what do you take from a person who has no friends, no status, and no real power or posessions?), but it gets lonely sometimes. I am looking forward to regularly breaking the newest law that was passed.

Anyways, today will be a quiet day, I think. Mary and I are going to watch too much tv and lounge around the house in our pj's. When Ian gets home from work, I'm going to escape the house again to go to a birthday gathering, though I'm awfully tired, so I doubt I'll stay long.

Have a good weekend, and thank you for the nice emails I got after my last post! I don't believe I have responded to any of them yet, but it was nice to hear from you.

Rambling

I haven't really got much to say right now, though I'll try, and I'll likely end up posting more than I intended.

I'm not doing very well emotionally lately, I'm not certain why. I am absolutely certain that if I were to go to a doctor and describe how I've been acting he would happily give me an rx for all sorts of mind altering chemicals regardless of the safety of my baby. I'm not even sure when it started, though I think it might have been with Ians fingers. Last week was rough and I worried a lot about Ian, before realizing that with these fingers of his he cannot do anything to help me around the house. No dishes, no laundry, no changing cat boxes (which I also am not supposed to do), no nothing. Then friday rolled around. A couple of friends were having a birthday celebration which I had been seriously looking forward too all week. Mary ended up being miserable, sick, and unfit for human company, so at the lastish minute, I decided not to go out. Ian had plans for that night too, and he decided that there was no reason for him not to go out. Really there wasn't, but when I started weeping on the couch for no good reason as he was getting ready to go....well, I had hoped he would have decided to keep me company. Instead I spent friday night alone, stuffing myself with granola bars. Thank goodness that was the only sweet/snack food we had in the house at the time.

Saturday wasn't much better. It was a long lonely day as Ian was at work. Crown of Thorns had been cancelled, which was a little sad, but other friends were having their 10th anniversary celebration at the Hotel MacDonald, and we were invited. Ian called me around 2 in the afternoon to tell me that our planned babysitter had called to tell him that they were all sick, and we shouldn't bring Mary over. So. No party or getting out that night either. We did go out for supper to a buffet, but again, Mary was so wild that we were only out of the house for an hour. I went to bed at 8 that night.

Sunday was another miserable day. Mary threw one of her mind bogglingly sudden and uncalled for tantrums first thing in the morning when we were trying to get her dressed so we could go out and do something, and after fighting with her for 30 minutes, we gave up on the idea of getting out of the house. I went back to bed and spent much of the day there, alternately moping, brooding, weeping and sleeping. At one point Ian came to check on me and I said "I think I might be depressed or something." He very quickly agreed.

Monday was a "holiday." Ian worked. I sat at home alone with Mary. Again. The walls of baby jail are closing in. I don't know why. It's possible that it has something to do with the fact that I am in near constant pain with this pregnancy. My pelvis, hips, back, neck, shoulders, knees....every joint in my body aches all the time which makes it hard for me to get up and get out unless I absolutely have too. This baby feels monstrously big, and is very strong. I remember the 2nd trimester being the best part of my last pregnancy, and it terrifies me that things are going to get worse before this baby is born. And then the baby will be born. And I will have a very busy 2 year old and a new born infant. Ian will be working, and I will be alone with them both 6 days a week. If I'm having problems dealing with life right now, how on earth will I handle that?

Mary has also become more challenging lately. The temper tantrums are sudden, unexpected, inexplicable and often violent. Most of the time she's a beautiful, sweet and funny little creature to be around, but she can turn from laughter to screaming rage in literally less than a second. I am absolutely positive that it could be a lot worse, but it's still hard to deal with. Top that with her refusal to speak english unless she is repeating what I say and it's a rough way to live. She's also decided that diaper changes and getting dressed are both torture beyond endurance. My large pregnant belly makes an excellent target for her thrashing feet when she's fighting me on both those points. Mary's also become much more aggressive with Jonah, the little boy that I babysit. Yesterday he did something that made her mad and she threw a rod. He was a little puzzled so he went into another room to play by himself, and she actually chased him down to attempt to beat the crap out of him. I ended up locking her in the bedroom for some calm down time by herself. After a couple of minutes she had chilled out enough that I let her out, and after about 10 minutes of cuddling they had both forgotten the fight, and were playing happily together once again.

In other news, I have learned a lesson in the last couple of days. When you are already emotionally fragile, watching season 3 of Battlestar Galactica (the new ones, of course) is not a wise course of action. Mind you, it does get me bawling, which feels pretty good right now.

Oh, as for good news, I was on the MLS real estate website online the other day just checking things out, and there are only 3 houses listed there in all of Edmonton that are less than 200 thousand dollars, and all three of them have been condemned for one reason or another. That means that we could reasonably ask for 200 thou, and expect to get close to that. We owe just under a hundred thousand on this house now, so we may walk away with close to 100G in our pocket. Theoretically, we could take that money, pay off our debts, move to Saskatchewan and buy a house outright and not have a mortgage to worry about at all. Or we could invest some of that money for university for the kids, and suck up a smallish mortgage in Sask. It's awfully tempting, let me tell you. It would be really nice to be closer to my dad, and even my step-mum. I miss them, and, well, it's a whole lot easier to impose on your parents than on your friends.

Anyways, I did type a whole lot more than I intended, and I do feel better putting all that stuff down. If anyone has any suggesstions on how to drag myself out of this slump that I haven't thought of (yes, I know, healthy eating, getting out of the house, exercise are all good options, except for the fact the most days I can barely walk because of my hips/pelvis). I have absolutely no intention of taking happy pills, so I need to think of something else.

Update

Ian did go to the doctor on Monday night, and was told that he shouldn't work for the next few days. Ian of course argued with him, and the doctor finally folded and said to take Tuesday off and to go to our family doctor.

The first thing that our family Dr. said was "Wow, I'm surprised you didn't loose this finger." Then proceded to get a book to read up on severe frostbite. Ian is now not allowed to work at the lube place at all (too dirty), not allowed to work outside when the temperature is below -10, and he is not allowed to remove his gloves at all while outside. A claim with Workers Comp has been started, and we are waiting to hear from the Dr. on a referral to a Vascular Surgeon. The fingers on his left hand are looking almost normal now save for the giant blisters, but his right hand is a different story, particularly the middle finger. They're still pretty badly discoloured and swollen, and I'm quite worried about them. I imagine he will go back to work tomorrow, the temperature is supposed to get up above freezing, hopefully he won't make things worse.

Not much else is going on around here. Mary's doing well, the cats are good, I'm okay but worried. February has always been a bad month for us, Ians dad died in Feb, my boss and friend died in Feb, last year Ian was out of town for the whole month....this February seems to be following the theme.

In Search of Mutton

I was going to go out tonight. I had everything figured out, I was even planning on taking a very tired Mary along with me and putting her down in Raven's playpen. Then I saw Ian pull up and park out front, so I figured, yay! Ian can watch Mary, and I don't need to bring her. So, I told the softly sobbing child that yes, she could go to bed, which she did, and promptly fell asleep. Ian came in looking sheepish, and proceded to tell me that his fingers got a little cold at work today. I said "How cold, darling husband of mine?" He went into a lengthy tale of coldness at work, and finished up by showing me his fingers. His black tipped fingers. I said "Oh, you poor poor thing, what a terrible thing to happen to an intelligent man like you! Perhaps you ought to go to the doctor, though I shall of course leave it to your discression, darling husband." Then I phoned Raven, and explained the situation to her, suggesting that as a nurse, she may have some idea of whether or not black fingertips are something to be concerned about. She suggested that Ian go to the doctor, perhaps this morning when he first froze his fingers. By this point, my darling wee napless child was fast asleep, so I had to beg off going out tonight, which is too bad, but life with a child and husband.

So, I really want to make Scotch Broth. I enjoy making and eating soup, it is one of the few things that I am good at cooking. Unfortunately though, Scotch Broth requires mutton. Good luck finding that in this bloody city! I phone several butchers, and the most helpful thing I was told was that "we don't have mutton, but we have smoked mackeral." Um. Okay. Am I crazy in thinking that mutton is something that a person working in/as a butcher should know about? I mean, even if you don't carry it, you really ought to know that mutton is sheep, not fish. Sigh. I think I will try some of the Halal butchers next, if they don't carry mutton, perhaps I can try making my soup with goat. It's really too bad, I love the strong and gamey flavour that mutton has, but I suspect I'll have to go without.

My weekend went quite well. Friday Raven introduced Mary and I to the wonders of the indoor playground at Milennium place. Mary didn't stray far from my side or actually play on anything much, but we were there for an hour and a half and she seemed to have lots of fun dragging me around to look at all the other kids. Friday night Ian and I stayed in, cuddled on the couch and watched comedy shows on CBC. Saturday night some of my fabulous friends put on a Burlesque show. A few of the girls in our crowd discovered pole dancing a while back, and they are all good enough at it now that they were able to put together a fantastic routine. It was great fun, the food was fantastic, and I was reminded of all the reasons that I don't want to move back to Saskatchewan. I took a few pole dancing classes myself before I got pregnant, and I'm quite determined that if we are still in Edmonton come fall, I'm going to start up again. I really need to loose weight and get healthy, which is quite a chore when you despise excercise. Pole dancing is hard work and tonnes of fun, and it may even teach me to be a bit sexier (or at least feel sexier) too!

Not Surprised

Didja hear? Anna Nicole Smith died today. She was pronounced dead at the hospital after being found unconscious in her hotel room. For some reason, this news does not surprise me, I think she has been trying to die for an awfully long time now.

Google is my midnight lover.

Wow, is it already Thursday? Where has the week gone? Between the screaming tantrums and the adorableness, time has flown by.

Let's see if I can remember highlites of the week. Hmm. Saturday was T's Kingdom Come game, which was lovely and angsty as usual. My characters evil lover had shown up for the first time in a long time, so I spent a lot of time alternately joyful that he was there and despising myself for loving such an evil evil man. After the game we all went to BP's to hang out, and I got to go too (I really do have an excellent husband). My favourite moment was when we were sitting at a table waiting for our meals, and T and I got to talking about the lack of women in our group of friends who are willing to get pregnant. T carried on the conversation by saying, and I quote, "The problem with the world is that only the really stupid people are breeding, all the smart women don't get pregnant." As soon as the words popped out of his mouth he turned red, and looked, well, defeated. I just sat there smirking and rubbing my very pregnant belly. It's a good thing I'm not sensitive...

Sunday was the Superbowl, which we watched over at G & K's place. It was an intensely boring football game, but the halftime show was pretty great. Prince! He sang, and danced, and talked, and played his oh so phallic guitar. There was one point where he was playing a guitar shaped like his symbol from behind a sheet that was all backlit and stuff, and I couldn't help snorting with laughter at the image. I was really quite surprised that the American puritans didn't make more of a fuss about it. Of course, I could just have a dirty mind.

Hmm. Monday was a Very Bad Day. Mary's language issues are becomming more and more dificult and frustrating for the both of us. She spent a couple of hours in the afternoon alternately screaming with rage and sobbing pathetically. She wanted something from me, but I couldn't figure out what it was. By time Ian got home, I was empathizing with women who shake their babies and was close to tears myself. The Raven rescued me by taking me out for tea at Timmies.

Tuesday was D&D. Yay! It was the first session in a new campaign that Ian is running, and it looks to be quite fun. We didn't do much because T was unable to attend, but so far so good. We have two very dour boys, a dwarf and an ugly elf, and K and I are playing a pair of much more joyful girls, a gnome (K's character) and a beautiful elf. It will be interesting to see how T's human fits into the mix.

Wednesday was yesterday, right? Let me think. Another day full of communication issues and temper tantrums (really the tantrums arent that bad, and she really makes up for it by the adorableness that comes before and after the fits). Ian is working in Camrose now, so I had no idea when he would be home, but was geared up not to see him till quite late. I ended up taking Mary to Ravens place, as it was my night to babysit her kids, but instead her husband watched Mary so that R and I could go meet Guy Gavriel Kay! Yay! It was very exciting for me, I've read all of his books except for the newest one many many times....so many times that they are all falling apart. I was really quite impressed by him. Kay is just a little man, kinda geeky looking and he talks like the priest from "The Princess Bride." It must take a whole lot of nerve for him to get up and talk to crowds of people and read from his books, but he did admirably, was very friendly when I met him to sign my book, and seemed like a generally neat kinda guy who can write a fantastic book. Also, I got my first good look at Simon of Simian Farmer fame (I link to his blog on the side). I was standing right behind him in line to get my book signed, and I knew that I recognized him from somewhere, though I didn't realize who he was till he was talking to Guy Kay. I nearly said hello, but was overcome with such a crippling wave of shyness I had to go hide as far away as I could. I mean, Simon is so cool, one of the big kids really, I knew that I would just stammer and blush, possibly giggle like a teenager and generally make an ass of mysellf.

And that brings us to today. This morning has so far been very pleasant. Mary and I got up early (at 9, aren't I lucky to have a child who likes to sleep in?), ate our breakfast and headed out to Sherwood Park to meet up with Raven and her brood. We went to an indoor playground. It was extremely crowded, but lots of fun, and we lasted about an hour before we needed to go. Mary didn't really play, she just dragged me around and looked at all the kids. She's terribly shy around other children, but I think that next time she may wander a little farther from my side. On the way home we stopped at Starbucks for a Chai latte and a snack, and now she is "napping" in her bedroom with all her stuffed animals. I shall sit quietly and start my new book while thinking about how I ought to be doing laundry or dishes.

An opinion piece

I really don't know why I read/watch the news and other sources of information. I find that I am constantly disappointed by humanity in general these days. It would be much easier if I could just sit in my bedroom and continue believing the best of people without exposing myself to proof that I'm wrong.

Take the town of Hérouxville in Quebec. The city council just passed a "Code of Conduct for Immigrants." Among the, ahem, guidelines for immigrants are a law forbidding women from veiling their faces in schools, a ban on female circumcision (perhaps not such a bad thing, but really, is it that common a problem in Quebec?), and an in depth explaination of the Christmas tree. Several other towns in the Trois-Rivières region of Quebec want to introduce similar guides. What really gets me is they are claiming that this code is a way of accomodating immigrants. You can read a short article on the matter here -http://www.cbc.ca/canada/montreal/story/2007/02/02/qc-reasonableaccommodation20070202.html (sorry, for some reason Blogger isn't giving me the link option today, and I can't remember the HTML for doing it myself right now).

I've been trying to avoid the issue of the sextuplets in B.C. that were born a couple of months ago to a Jehovas Witness family. The babies were born at 25 weeks gestation, which for those of you who don't know, is incredibly premature, right on the line of survive/don't survive. Two of the babies have already died, and this week the B.C. government seized 3 of the living babies from the family to administer blood transfusions, something that J.W.'s are very much against. The storm of controversy about this move is really quite dizzying. I have a hard time with it, on one hand, I do think that the government did what was right to save those babies, but then again, where does it stop? If the government can seize children and force medical treatment that their parents refuse, well, I can't help but think that sets a relatively dangerous precident for all sorts of things. Anyways, the issue has all sorts crawling out of the woodwork to voice their opinioins, from the anti-abortion folk to the pro-abortion, anti-religion, anti-IVF people, people who pretend to know what theyre talking about, people who think that the family should be left alone, people who think the babies should be taken away from the family for good, people who have no idea what's really going on (but of course have very strong opinions anyways). Not one person that I've read have had anything nice to say about anyone else, or the ability to see other points of view than their own.

Then there is the issue that is going on here in Edmonton, with the foster mother who has been charged with the murder of a three year old foster child. It just happened last weekend, and the moment the news broke, it was like the poor woman was already tried and convicted in the mind of the media and the public. I don't know the whole story, and I doubt I ever will, but I can't help but feel for this woman. Who knows what really happened? One story is that the seriously disturbed child threw a fit, and smashed his own head against the floor with the force of his rage, thus doing the damage himself. I don't know how likely this is, but it seems a possibility to me. Of course, because of this, other foster parents in Alberta, and the entire system itself are being ripped to shreds daily in the media. I've seen the hard work that foster parents do for these kids, most of whom are damaged in some way, either physically or emotionally, and it takes a special kind of person to deal with the issues that go on with it. Even the best parent in my experience has a hard time dealing with the best of babies (I had fantasies of putting Mary in a snowbank when she was a newborn), I can't imagine how much that must be amplified after spending a long day with a child (or more than one) who has severe fetal alcohol spectrum disorder. If the woman did kill that little boy, well, it doesn't excuse what she did, but I really do think that at the very least people could try to feel for her a little bit. I don't believe she's a monster, and I'm not prepared to condemn her, or any other foster parent. What drives me craziest is that the boys biological father has issued a long statement about how the system failed his child and blah blah blah, and oh yeah, and he intends to sue the government. I just have to say that children don't often end up in the foster care system for no reason, so maybe people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, eh?

Anyways, Mary is begging for a nap (she slept through the night last night! YAY!), so I had better go deal with that.

We are not impressed

So, since Sunday night (monday morning, really) Mary has started waking up at the wee hours of the morning and partying for a while. This can happen anywhere between midnight and 2 am, and will last from 1 to 3 hours. Um. What the hell? She did this before when she was sick, but she seems to be fine these days, if a little sniffly. It's not like she wakes up and cries, oh no, she gets up, chats to herself for a while, jumps out of the bed onto the hardwood floor, shrieks in joy, jumps harder on the floor, shrieks again, lays on her back and pounds her heels on the wall....I can't take much more of it. I'm having a hard time sleeping these days, what with all the complaints that go along with being 5 months pregnant, and this is just ridiculous.

We had to take away one of the toys that was in Marys room yesterday. She was given a beautiful old doll crib that belonged to a friend of ours when she was a child. This friend was thrilled when we had a girl, she has only boys in her family and was delighted to have someone to give all her old dolls and girlie toys too. Anyways, we had it in Marys room, and yesterday at naptime Mary decided to dismantle it and then beat the crap out of herself with it. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but all was quiet, when suddenly there was a "thump, crash, WAIL" from Marys room. Ian and I both ran in (he was home from work due to weather) and Mary was on the floor, surrounded by pokey wooden things, and bleeding from her cheek and nose. She has a cut on the bridge of her nose, and a big scrape on her cheek, it looks like we beat her on a regular basis.

Poor Ian has to work today, outside. The high (with windchill) is forcast at -29, and they are working out in a place called Nisku, in the middle of an empty field. Nice. I'm not thrilled with him either though. This morning I asked him to put a brush in the van before going to work, because it dumped a tonne of snow on us yesterday and last night. He took my keys to do it because his were already in the car warming it up. No biggie, right? Except as soon as he tossed the brush in the van, he hopped into the car and buggered off to Nisku. With my keys. I'm supposed to be babysitting so that N can go to a prenatal Dr.'s appt in, oh, 30 minutes. I of course burst into hysterical tears (bloody hormones and lack of sleep do not make for a rational Jennifer), calmed myself, and called Ian's boss on his cell. The boss was nice enough, though he did laugh at me, and he promised to get Ian to call as soon as he saw him. Of course they're working in freaking Nisku, and it snowed a tonne last night, so I have my doubts Ian'll be there any time soon. I called N, and thankfully she is feeling like hell due to a bad cold, and doesn't have a problem rescheduling her appointment. I still feel horrible for cancelling on her at the last minute though, not to mention the fact that I'm awake, and have been since 6:30 this morning. Mary is of course fast asleep on the couch, damn her. She needs her rest, she partied all night long.

Free to or Free from?

I have to admit something to you. Something shameful and embarassing. I have never read a thing by Margaret Atwood. Nothing at all, not a short story, not a novel, nothing. One of Canada's foremost authours, and I could never be bothered to read anything by her. Well, that changed yesterday. I was bored, and I've read every book in the house at least 3 times, so I went off to the mall and bought myself a book (or two). I've always been curious about "Handmaids Tale" so I figured, what the heck, stories of dystopia have always fascinated and thrilled me. I'm halfway through now, and all I have to say is holy crap. Seriously, if you haven't read the book, you really really ought too, unless you're easily frightened by uncanny and terrifying visions of the near future. Really, the most terrifying thing about the story is watching or thinking about current news from the USA. Anyways, I'm having a hard time putting the book down, I suspect I'll be finished some time this afternoon, though it will take me a while to digest what I've read. Goody, if you haven't read this book, I seriously reccomend you read it, and then move to Canada as quickly as you can.

While I was at the mall yesterday, I got a headache, again. So, I decided, to hell with it, and I went to my favourite hair salon to see if my favourite middle eastern male hair dresser was available. He is a fabulous hairdresser, and the way he talks to me makes me laugh. Anyways, I went in, told him that my hair was giving me headaches and I couldn't bloody take it anymore, but I haven't got the time to devote to a short haircut. He took that as a challenge, and about 10 minutes later I was missing several inches of my hair. He cut my hair short, and it's fantastic! It looks good, doesn't make my face look too round, it's incredibly easy (so far) to deal with, and best of all, no more ponytails or headaches! When I got home, Ian said that I wasn't allowed to go out alone anymore, but I think he likes it.

I spoke with a speach language pathologist today about Miss Mary. I may be paranoid, I don't know, but I'm really starting to worry that Mary still doesn't speak English. She has her own language, she can make her wants and needs known quite clearly, and I'm pretty sure that she understands every word I say, but she still seems to be a whole lot behind where she ought to be at this age. I've tried very hard not to spend the last two years comparing Mary to other kids her age, or what the books say she ought to be doing, but I am worried about this. She will mimic what I say to a point, but there are some words that she just won't say, when she mimics them, it comes out as something different, even though she is determined that she is saying exactly what I said. It's strange, and my little brother had horrible speach issues when he was a wee one, so I figured I'd get it checked out now, rather than waiting until it's really a problem. Anyways, the SLP thought that it was something to be concerned about, so she has put in a referral for Mary to officially be seen by someone for an assessment. It sounds like they will check for things like Autism also in this assessment, which I thought was funny. Thanks to Raven, I know a bit more than the average bear (though really not that much, to be honest) about autism, and I'm relatively sure that's not it, but it'll be nice to have some sort of idea of what's going on Marys language development.

The virus that wouldn't die

Well, Mary and I are sick again, or possibly still. We never seemed to fully recover from the cold we suffered through a couple of weeks ago, the noses never stopped running, the cough never completely left. Both the nose and the cough have come back with a vengance today though, poor Mary is a miserable little beast who begged to nap after being up for only 2 hours this morning. Hopefully this is the last gasp for the cold and we can get over it soon, we're both sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Last night I looked after Raven's wee ones (well, really I just fought with the biggest wee one about going to bed, poked my head into the two smaller wee ones rooms from time to time to make sure no one was bleeding, and watched House on DVD). Anyways, Raven wanted to see our new van, so I took her to check it out before her and her lovely husband went out for their date night. And you know what she pointed out to me? Built in car seats! Two of them! Not the type that a newborn can be transported in by any means, but perfect for Miss Mary. I cannot express how excited I was when she pointed them out to me. I had a thought when Ian bought the van that built in baby seats would be neat, but at the price we paid for the van I was pretty sure that there was no luck of it. I remember not too long ago saying that I would never drive a minivan, but motherhood has finally completely broken me. I love the van, I can't wait to fill it with soccer and dance paraphanalia and get a Venti something-or-other from Starbucks!

I'm thinking about weighing in on the whole family of three kicked off a flight because of their horrid three year old, but I think I'll stay away from it. Suffice it to say, I don't disagree with the airlines decision. I am bigger than Mary, and if I want her strapped in to a seat, she'll be strapped into a seat whether she likes it or not. I would be horrified if she behaved the way that child was reported to be behaving, and I would likely have removed myself from the plane before the airline had a chance to do it for me.

Wednesday Baby Blogging

And Cat blogging, of course. I took this picture of Mary and Tybalt yesterday, doesn't the cat look thrilled to be so loved?

Bug Number Two

Wow, between being sick and just hanging out with Mary, time sure has flown by. Can you believe it's been over a week since I posted here last?

The cold I was fighting is still lingering, though mostly just with a scratchy throat and a runny nose. It was absolutely brutal at it's peak though, it was in my ears, nose, throat and chest and I was miserable. It didn't help that pregnant women are not allowed to take anything other than tylenol to help. Let me tell you, when you have a sinus/throat/chest cold, no matter how much tylenol you take and halls you suck it just doesn't help. I broke down one day and took some Neo-Critran because I couldn't take it anymore. It helped, and I'm almost positive that two mugs of the stuff will not overly damage my unborn child.

Mary's doing much better too, although she has the seriously runny nose that the cold has left behind in both of us. She's been awfully fun to play with lately, since she started feeling better. She had her first official haircut at a salon today, and it went really well. We went to a place in Sherwood Park that is specifically for kids, and they were great, though it helped that Mary was frozen with terror for most of the visit. Usually I can't even brush her hair, but they managed to wet it, cut it, and even put a little ponytail in on the top of her head. She was rewarded afterward with a nice red sucker, and from her reaction a red sucker will make up for just about any torture I put her through.

On thursday we had an ultrasound to see Bug Number Two, or as I like to call it, Dickie Douglas Dixon. We still don't know if it is a boy or a girl, and I have mixed feelings about that. I hate surprises with a passion that most people can only imagine, but it is kind of neat to think that when the Dr. says "It's a _____!" when the baby's born, it'll be the first time we know. We've pretty much decided on names already, though we do toy with other names from time to time. For a girl it will likely be Frances Anne Louise, a boy will be James Thomas Crawford, or perhaps Patrick James Crawford. What do you think? I like the names Duncan or Declan, but those just don't work with our last name. I like the name Alice too, but I'm afraid that it is becoming a bit too trendy these days.

Oh! I forgot to mention, we bought a van this week! It's a 98 Plymouth Voyager and it was a real steal according to Ian. The dealership we bought it from had just done a big "Trade In Your Vehicle And We Will Love You Forever!" promotion, and they were overflowing with used vehicles that they were desperate to get rid of. So we now have a minivan and we are likely going to try to sell Angus the Ford Taurus some time in the near future. If we can get rid of the huge debt we have left owing on the Taurus our lives will be much happier.

So, there you have it. I've been sick, I've been playing with Mary, I've been visiting the Dr....that's about it for the last week and a bit. The next week should be interesting, Marvel on Tuesday, Purgatory turns coming out sometime this week, Purgatory itself on Friday (YAY!!) and Liz's cheesecake birthday party on Saturday, and of course getting used to driving the van, that should be fun too.

Help...Me...

Can someone out there explain to me why a 2 year old who has always been a good sleeper, sleeping through the night since she was 5 weeks old, would suddenly change? Is it because I'm sick and she hates me? Cause that's the only reason I can come up with. Thursday night she was up till 1 in the morning for no reason that I can imagine. Last night she went to bed at her usual time, slept very well, but woke up at midnight and stayed up in her bedroom till 4 am! What the hell? It doesn't help that due to her constant, never ending efforts, I have caught her cold. My throat feels like someone is constantly sandpapering it, my ears throb, my nose is plugged and my head aches...not to mention the rasping cough that takes over when I lay down in bed at night.

My Mum is in town this weekend and the plan is to spend the day hanging out with her today. She told me she would call this morning, and she hasn't yet, thank God. If she had called at 8 am then I would have burst into tears. At least I got about 4 hours of sleep last night. Maybe my mother can make me feel better, that's what mothers do, isn't it?

House of Germs

Once again the Dixon household is under quarantine. Sigh. It all started on Saturday when Ian woke up whimpering as only a sick man can, and called in to his second job to tell them he would not be in. It was actually quite nice to have him around, we got out of the house and ran an errand or two but otherwise had a nice quiet day. Sunday and Monday he was still feeling pretty under the weather, but thankfully (?) due to a big wind storm on Sunday night his boss called first thing monday morning and said it was too windy to work. Mary had a bit of the sniffles on monday and the occasional cough, but we really thought nothing of it. Monday night I went over to Raven's place to game, and suggested to Ian that he ought to do a load of dishes and go to bed early, to which he agreed. I got home at 12:30 in the morning, and my husband was still sitting exactly where he was when I left, playing the computer game Civ III. I was not terribly pleased, and he ended up calling in sick on Tuesday morning again. Tuesday morning when Mary woke up she was stuffed up, snotty, coughing and miserable. As the day went on she got worse and worse, the poor wee thing. She's still a little bag of germs, snot and misery today, which is really unfortunate for all of us.

Hey, how about that weather, eh? The blizzard that they were forcasting rolled in some time over night last night, and once again Ians boss called this morning to tell him not to bother to come to work. Today he went in to his second job to help out. I could have really used some help with the sick baby today, but whatever. The weather seems to have cleared up a bit now, it's still pretty windy I think, but not snowing anymore. It's funny, the weather has been so nice up till now, and my Mum is flying in from Vancouver tomorrow. She was complaining that it was cold there at -2 this morning, I wonder how she will deal with -25?

Time Flies

Wow, can you believe that it's almost a week into 2007 already? It seems like it was just yesterday that Christmas was a week away.

The holidays went very well in spite of Mary being quite ill. On the Friday before we left (Dec 22nd?) Mary woke up with a wild rash all over her wee body. I called capital health and spoke to a nurse there who told me it was likely Roseola and not too worry, but by time Ian got home from work I had gotten myself pretty worked up, and we took Mary to a Medicentre. Luckily we got there just ahead of a big rush. We waited for a while, and Mary played happily in the kids area. When we saw the Doctor he said that it was likely a virus that was reaching the end of its life, and that these sorts of rashes were pretty common in children with hyper-sensitive immune systems. He then went on to say that clearly Mary was one of these children as evidenced by her constant raging eczema. I asked him if we ought to put off our 8 hour drive to Regina, and he laughted, pointed at Mary who was at this point howling so loudly we had to yell to be heard, and told me that if we were brave and crazy enough to lock ourselves in a car with a crabby 2 year old for 8 hours, he wasn't going to say no.

So, then next morning we piled into the car and drove to Regina. The roads were great, a little busy but clear of snow and ice. Mary was incredibly well behaved, she complained a bit, but for the most part it was a nice drive. When we got to Regina we settled in quickly, Mary had her own room for the first time there, and she was pretty thrilled to discover that the door didn't latch. That was fun for us. Every night we would fight to get her to go to bed and stay in her room, usually she would give up around 10:30 or 11.

Christmas day went well, Mary got a tonne of gifts, there was more for her under the tree than for the rest of us put together. She got lots of nice clothes and a few toys, though she was far more interested in handing out the gifts to everyone else than opening them. Christmas dinner was fantastic as expected, I've never tasted turkey and stuffing as good as my fathers.

The rest of the visit was nice, if a little tense. There was some tension in the step-family due to some decisions that were being made by the eldest daughter. I think we left at the right time because the feeling in the house was pretty miserable the night before we left. Lots of fighting and yelling and sulking and grumbling. The oldest girl wants to move back to Regina (she's been living just north of Edmonton for a few months) and her mother thinks it is a very bad idea. So do I to be honest, but I know my opinion doesn't matter much. Anyways, Ian pointed out to me that it must be hard for the girl, as Dad and Michael are working so hard to convince Ian and I to move back to Saskatchewan, and they are working equally hard to convince the girl to stay far far away. I imagine that it must make her feel pretty unwanted, even if that's not exactly the case.

We were glad to get home after another fabulous drive. The roads weren't quite as good on the way home, we were trying to outrun a winter storm which dumped a tonne of snow and sleet on Regina, so the first couple of hours were kind of scary, but the rest of the drive was nice, and Mary was so busy with her new toys that she was mostly silent.

Marys birthday was New Years Eve, and to celebrate we invited some of our friends and a couple of children to Chuck E Cheese's. Mary had an absolute blast, and after three hours we had to drag her kicking and screaming to the car. We didn't do quite so well for toys this time, at Christmas she only got one toy that required batteries and makes any noise, for her birthday she got both a dancing Dora doll, and a dancing Pablo from the Backyardigans. Mary is so terrified of both of them that the sight of the bloody things send her into hysterics and we had to hide them in the closet so she can function. We'll try again in a few months, but I suspect we may end up giving them away. People don't believe us when we say that toys like that scare her, or maybe they don't understand how deeply they frighten her, but I wish they'd listen and get her nice wooden toys or blocks or books.

Oh, hey! The best news of all is that Ian and I got ourselves a fantastic Christmas present this year (and next year, and probably the next one after that....oh, and don't forget birthdays, this counts for the next several birthdays too). A new computer! It's lovely and wonderful and makes me very happy. It's a brand spanking new, incredibly expensive IMac, but it is worth it. We bought it from a good friend, and he brought it over last night and spent several hours installing extra software and games and music and movies for us. I'm still learning my way around it, but so far it's incredibly user friendly, and so shiney and pretty on our desk!

Phew. I think that's it for now. Sorry I haven't posted sooner, having a 2 year old in the house is far more exhausting than I had imagined it could ever be. Mary must have read a manual, she's suddenly lept head first into the "terrible two's!"

Roseola

We have a culprit! It is the human herpes virus-6B. Also known as Baby Measles (although it is completely unrelated to the measles virus, for which Mary is vaccinated against). The rash appeared this morning, just like it ought too according to the reading I've done since being told what it likely is. Apparantly the rash is the tail end of the illness, so she should be feeling better by tomorrow for the long drive to Regina, though today she is feeling awfully miserable.

Speaking of miserable, there is nothing worse than a 2 year old with diarrhea, unless you toss in the ability and desire to take off the diaper full of diarrhea during nap time. Ugh. I would much rather find her caked in vomit like I did on Wednesday than caked in liquid poo like I did yesterday.

Anyways, I'm off to clean the house (or at the very least to procrastinate cleaning the house). Again, I wish you all a Merry Christmas!

Germs

Gosh, it's been a while since I updated this thing, hasn't it?

Things have been going well for me. No fainting spells and no more trips to the hospital. It would seem that things are evening out, though I'll not hold my breath. The weekend went well. Saturday was my cookie exchange which which went very well, I think. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and there was lots of food and cookies to be had. Saturday was also the Christmas party at J & R's place, and it was really quite fantastic. Everyone was there, there was lots of wonderful food, and the gift exchange went well too. I was given the Fionavar Tapestry by Guy Gavriel Kay, and I'm extremely happy about it. It's the only book by that author that I have not read, and I have wanted to read it for quite some time.

Sunday we got up earlyish, went out for brunch with G & K, went shopping (stupid, but we finished all our shopping for Miss Mary), went to Ians aunt and uncles place, and finally went to a restaurant for Ians second jobs Christmas get together.

Monday started out okay, Mary and I slept in, and then hung out on the couch lounging around. Unfortunately she woke up from her nap with a 40.4 degree fever. We've been fighting with this bug that she seems to have picked up ever since. Her fever is up and down, she's exhausted, crabby and obviously feels pretty crummy. She goes through lifeless phases where all she wants to do is cuddle close and moan softly. Oh, and did I mention the diarrhea? It's brutal. To top it off, yesterday she woke up from her nap in a puddle of vomit, her hair was crusty, her clothes were soaked...yuck. We are driving to Regina on Saturday for the holidays, I really hope she is feeling better by then, or it'll be a long 8 hours in the car...

Anyways, I may not get around to blogging again before we leave, and it's unlikely that I'll get a chance in Regina, so...Merry Christmas to you all. I hope you have a wonderful holiday!

I feel better

I really do have a great doctor, I'm so glad that I decided to stick with him. Yesterday I called his office to describe what Nadine saw during my fainting spell, but he wasn't in the office till next week. I left a long message with his nurse and she promised to put it on his desk for him to find first thing Monday. This morning he called me from home. He had popped by the office for some reason or another and saw the message, and called me. He said that it is unlikely a seizure disorder as I actually remember blacking out, apparantly when the electrics of your brain go wonky you tend to forget about 30 minutes before the seizure actually happens. He suspects that it is a blood pressure/inner ear issue and intends to harass an ENT and a neurologist to see me sooner rather than later just to be safe. He also put my mind to rest about the bleed and the fact that I am still bleeding, as well as the health of my baby. He says that what happens in these cases is that the bleed starts, and then clots. After a week or two, the clot begins to "self destruct" or liquify, and that is the bleeding that I am having now. He says the fact that I am bleeding is a good sign in his mind, but that I still need to be careful; no intercourse, no heavy lifting (including Mary, yeah right). He also said that although they call what is happening a Threatened Miscarriage, it happens for very different reasons than an actual miscarriage, and the chances that there is something actually wrong with the baby itself are slim. Which is a huge weight off my mind. So, I feel better, things are being worked on, and hopefully all this misery will fade away some time soon.

As for baking, I wasn't fair last night. I love to bake, even if I'm not terribly good at it. I think it would be a lot easier if I had more than one foot of counter space to work on, and I'm sure I would enjoy it more. I still have no idea when I am going to make the remaining 50 cookies that need to be made by tomorrow afternoon, but I guess I'll figure something out.

I Am Not a Baker

When I was growing up Christmas was always a fantastic time of year. My Mum would spend hours baking wonderful cookies and squares for us, we were never without goodies. It was great, and I'll always cling to those memories. A pity Mary will have to do without similar memories. I do not reccomend attempting to bake Berlinerkranzer cookies. They suck. They're stupid and I hate them. I have made 24 of them, and the rest of the cookies I make for the exchange will be whipped shortbread. It doesn't get easier than whipped shortbread, I can do easy. I can also make mincemeat, and mincemeat tarts are easy if you use frozen pastry. That is all my family will ever get from me.

Goody, I cannot express how much you awe me with your cooking and baking things that don't come in packages marked Pilsbury.

My Body Hates Me

And I have to say, the feeling is becoming mutual.

The weekend started off okay. I babysat for Jonah on both Friday and Saturday nights so that his Mum and Dad could go to christmas parties. It was okay, Mary and Jonah had fun racing around like maniacs together, they both went to bed very well, and Ian and I watched movies till Trevor and Nadine got home.

We had a lot to do on Sunday, it's Ians only day off, and since the car problems it is the only day I have access to the car. We need groceries, baking supplies and I still have to get a gift for the gift exchange that's coming up this Saturday. So that was the plan when we woke up, before I realized that once again I was bleeding like crazy. So, instead of going shopping, I called my Dr. (I have his pager number now) and he sent me in to the hospital. Thankfully I didn't have to spend any time at all in the ER because of the call. The Doctor there checked things out, and decided to admit me. So, I spent all day Sunday and all day Monday hanging around the hospital. I was supposed to get an IV, but after the first attempt, all the nurses were afraid of my awful little veins and it never happened. I was told that I would have an ultrasound on Monday morning, so I sat around my room till they finally came for me at 2:30 in the afternoon. The U/S was good, baby is still in there alive and kicking, but so is the "bleed" which no one can explain. I finally got home on Monday afternoon at 4 after being told that there was nothing to be done, and to just carry on. Sigh.

Tuesday I babysat Jonah again. I wasn't feeling well, but I packed Mary up and headed for the bus. I hate taking the bus. When we got to Jonahs place, I promptly fainted, terrifying poor Nadine. My fainting spells are really horrid experiences, and now that I finally have a witness other than Mary, I'm a little worried that it's more than fainting. From what I experience, I get this horrid strong sense of deja vu. Wherever I am, the bus stop, my bedroom, wherever, suddenly becomes a terrifying place, everything in it menacing. At this point I know what is going to happen, so I can usually stumble over to somewhere like the couch or the bed, so when I fall I won't hurt myself. Then my ears start roaring, and blackness washes in from the sides of my vision. When I wake up, I'm confused and frightened, and the sides of my tongue always hurt from being bitten. Nadine called me this morning and said that when it happened at her place my eyes rolled back in my head, I started moaning, and my arms and jaw went really rigid. Then right before I came too, I started jerking a bit before opening my eyes (poor woman, no wonder she looked so frightened). I thought I had hit my head, but according to her I didn't, I just sat down in the chair, smiled, said something in response to her, and then wen't all weird.

So, I'm trying not to freak out, but I'm really getting worried about things. What the hell is going on with my body anyways? I almost wish that I would just miscarry and get over with it, and then, when I think that, I'm overcome with guilt. I just don't know what to do. I've decided not to bother the doctor if I start bleeding again (which I did last night), not until I'm bleeding really badly. There just seems to be no point in spending all that time in the hospital just to get a shrug from the doctors.

Now I have a whole lot to do before Saturday. I'm doing a cookie exchange Saturday afternoon, and I still have to get a gift for the party that evening. We still have a couple of Christmas gifts to get for Mary, and I still haven't even started Christmas cards. I suspect that no one will be getting cards from us this year, which really annoys me.

Fish out of Water

Geez, does it ever get better around here? Really, things aren't that bad, I'm a chronic worrier and pessimist, but for crying out loud. I know that problems breathing are relatively common late in a pregnancy, but I'm still pretty early for that sort of thing. I'll start at the beginning. Yesterday I was walking with Mary to catch the bus, it's a three block walk, nothing too hard, not to mention the fact that Miss Mary dawdles like crazy. It is tough to push the stroller through feet of snow that people haven't shovelled from their front sidewalks, but again, not that hard. Anyways, I got on the bus, and started gasping like a fish out of water, it was really really strange. My lungs felt like they were bursting, they were overfull. I kept gasping for air, but my problem was that I couldn't seem to breathe out enough to take any fresh air in. It lasted for about 5 minutes or so before I was able to breathe again. I know I'm in bad shape, but not that bad, I don't think. It happened again last night, and again this morning. I keep thinking I ought to go to the doctor, but I've been seen him every week for the last 4, I really don't want him to think that I'm a nutter.

Other than that though, things are going really well. I'm feeling much better physically other than the fish thing (oh, and the pimples, good God the pimples), Mary is delightful and wonderful and so much fun. Her vocabulary is growing every day, it just amazes me. Her latest favourite thing to say is "Thank You!" and it just thrills me every time she says it. She's really good at getting her needs and wants across to just about anyone who is around her, and she just loves people. She's so social and sweet, I can't believe we are so lucky. Pray that we are lucky twice, cause I suspect we are in for a shock with the next baby.

Trees Are Thinning

Well, it's sunday afternoon and things are looking good. I stopped bleeding completely on Thursday, and on Friday I had another ultrasound and saw the baby again. Heart still beating, legs and arms still kicking madly. I'm also officially into my second trimester now, which is also a good sign. I really believe that we are out of the woods for now and that life can get back to a semblance of normalicy. My Obstatritian doesn't need to see me till the new year unless something else happens. He did say that we will need to keep a close eye on things later on in the pregnancy. Because of this episode, I am now at increased risk of pre-term labour and growth problems in the 3rd trimester. I'm having a hard time worrying about that though...if this baby is born a few weeks early then it won't be the giant that Miss Mary was, right?

Financially things are, well, the same really. It's not so bad, we have some plans. We spoke with a bankruptcy trustee and we just can't justify it. We have a decent amount of RRSP's, which we would lose completely if we declared bankruptcy. So, instead, we will look at cashing in all our RRSP's, paying off the bulk of our debts and hoping for the best. That way, while we lose our savings, we don't have to do the whole bankrupt thing, and really, I can't see the point in saving for the future when you can't make buy groceries in the present.

We have some fantastic friends here who are really making us reconsider moving away. The offers of support and help have been amazing and somewhat overwhelming, and while we are far too proud to accept a lot of the help that has been offered, we appreciate it so very much. While we don't have a lot of family here, the friends we do have are so close to us that I really can't help but think of them as family.

Now, on to better things. Can you freaking believe it's December already? Mary's birthday is in less than a month, and so is Christmas. I bought my Christmas cards, and I really have to get my act together and start mailing them. It takes forever for Canada Post to deliver anything anywhere, and I still have a couple of cards and packages that I need to send to the States, which will take even longer.

I was convinced to put on a cookie exchange again this year, last years was a great success but I had decided not to do it again. I won't be hosting it in my house though, so I decided to go ahead with it. We have 11 people this year, so we decided that instead of a dozen cookies per person we would only do 8. It cuts down marginally on the amount of baking that we need to do, but that's still a lot of cookies. I've decided to make another childhood favourite called Berlinerkranzer cookies and I'm also going to make candied orange peels to go with them. Wish me luck, while the peels are relatively easy I've been told, when I told my mum I would be making 88 Berlinerkranzers she laughed at me for about an hour.

I still have several jars of mincemeat that I made a few years ago, I'm really looking forward to having that stuff, three years of soaking in the booze and getting yummy. I think I will have to make some more this January though. Oh...my stomach is grumbling at the thought of mince meat tarts and hard sauce...suddenly I'm in the Christmas frame of mind...maybe we'll go to Ikea and buy a cheap tree this afternoon...

It's my blog and I'll whine if I want too...

First, thank you to everyone who sent us well wishes after my last post, both personal and in the comments. Although I've not gotten back to anyone yet due to extreme business, we really do appreciate the thoughts.

First, good news. I am still pregnant, and the baby is still alive. The doctor I saw yesterday checked things out, listened to the heartbeat, and said that he thinks things are going well. He said that there is still a 1/3 chance that I may miscarry, but he also said that if I make it too the weekend without that happening that I will be out of the woods for now. I do know that I'm going to be awfully paranoid and nervous for the rest of this pregnancy, until the minute I have a healthy fully grown baby in my arms.

Other than that, things are going exceedingly poorly. Our house is falling apart and we are a heartbeat away from bankruptcy (literally). Ian recently bought a little car from a friend for our second vehicle, and because we can't manage the payments on the Taurus anymore. We were planning on giving up the good car, and moving down to one. Today the little white car died while Ian was driving to work. It turns out that the morons at his second job (a place where he worked as a manager for several years before going into construction) forgot to replace the oil cap when they topped up the oil for him. There's no oil at all in the engine, and if you know anything about cars, even if it's as little as what I know, you know that's a Very Bad Thing. So, now we are back down to one car which we can't afford, but if we loose it then Ian can't get to work, not to mention that things like groceries or trips to Regina will be incredibly dificult.

I mentioned that the house is falling apart, and I mentioned a while back that I spend my nights thinking about how wonderful it would be to burn the bloody thing down (of course I won't), but I don't think I've mentioned why it's so bad. I'll start at the top.

Windows - Ancient and drafty
Floors - ancient and ugly.
Walls (living room) - Okay, but cracked and ugly. Faux fire place in living room loosing all it's hideous plaster bricks to expose the nasty cinderblocks beneath.

Bathroom - Oh, this is good. Paint on the ceiling is cracked and gross, and full of mold. Same for the walls, mouldy. Giant hole in the wall behind the toilet from last years plumbing fun covered up by bristleboard, plastic and duct tape. Floor rotten from several years of water leakage. Sink old and taps drip. Nasty teal plastic tile coming away from the wall. Cold water tap in the bathtub does not work at all, it is either off, or runs all the time - we can't replace it because the fixtures are all so old that nothing new will fit without re-doing the entire tub.

Kitchen - Same problem with the nasty teal tiles. Shitty lino job peeling up. Taps leak constantly. The kitchen is the size of a closet.

Basement - Crack in foundation leaks. Cement floor seriously water damaged. The other day I went into the suite area which we were thinking of moving down too so we have more space in the house, but the walls in the bedroom are black with mold and mildew.

What I described is just the tip of the iceberg too, I'm sure there's more that I've either blocked out or we haven't found yet.

Selling and moving to a different, cheaper, easier to live in market is becoming more and more appealing. Moving closer to family is becoming tempting. Selling this dump and doing what we can with what we get, somewhere that it isn't horrendeously expensive is something we talk about all the time. My father is determined to get us to move to Regina, and the more he talks about it, the more sense he makes. We could sell this hole for about 120K, and buy something bigger, newer and nicer for the same in Regina. Not to mention that things are cheaper there, and we would have free babysitting. I would hate to leave Edmonton, I love this city, I love the way it feels, the way it looks, everything it has. I love my friends and would be lost without them....but we just can't afford to live here anymore, and with the way the housing market is, we will never get ourselves out of this little dump.

Sigh. So, that's a bit of what's on my mind now. Sorry for being depressing and self pitying and all that, but if I can't do it on my blog, then where can I?

Weekend Update

What an unpleasant weekend. Well, not all of it was that bad.

Friday Ian came home early, and he, Mary and I all got in the car and headed off to the OB/GYN. My Dr checked me out, and came to the conclusion that I have an inner ear problem called Meniere's Disease (which has been suggested to me in the past). He's in the process of getting me to see and ENT specialist, and there isn't much to do until I get that appointment.

Friday night was Purgatory. Ian and I dropped Mary off at Ravens place for the evening, and headed off through the snow and ice to the south side of the city. We stopped at Quizno's for subs for supper, and somehow the keys got locked inside the running car. Fun. After a great deal of effort and freezing coldness, along with some help from a friendly plumber, we got into the car with a minimum of damage, and made our happy way to the game.

Purgatory was fantastastic, as expected. V & I put on a fantastic version of the Christmas Carrol at the very beginning of the night which had everyone splitting their sides laughing. The evening progressed to be interesting, busy and fun for just about everyone.

Saturday I spent with Mary, cleaning up the living room and just hanging out. Saturday night was Crown of Thorns, the Arthurian game, and I was quite pumped to go. I had some inkling that some of my evil plans are coming unravelled, and I was looking forward to seing how things would work. Again there was a hilarious play put on at the begining of the night, this one a satire and mockery of the knights and kings of Arthurs court. After the play, the game itself got going. I had a quiet while, just talking and thinking and generally being quietly evil, when my body decided to betray me, luckily Mary was spending the night with Ians cousins.

You see, my body apparantly decided that what my weekend was missing was a miscarrige and several hours in the hospital. I stood up at one point in the night, and felt and heard a splash on the floor between my feet, along with a decided wetness along the insides of my thighs. I quietly and calmly made my way through the darkened room to the bathroom, hoping that no one would notice the trail I was leaving. Ian quickly came and found me sitting on the toilet and crying. After I gathered my nerves together and Ian cleaned up the mess I had left behind, we headed off for the Royal Alexandra hospital.

We arrived at the hospital, checked in, and took our seats in the waiting room. The Royal Alex, for those of you who do not know, is not in the nicest part of town. It is an inner city hospital, and there tends to be a more unsavoury element that spends their time there. Anyways, we took a seat, tried not to stare at the bleeding snoring drunks, or at the poor 20 something man who had decided to walk from one end of the city to the other in -25 degree weather with only his running shoes. We learned later that his feet were frozen solid all the way to his ankles. He spend the 3 hours he was in the waiting room bawling like a baby, it was all I could do not to go over and mother the poor bastard.

We were short-listed to see a doctor, which meant that we only had to wait 5 hours in the waiting room. I am so glad that we pay for health care in this province, it certainly seems to help. Anyways, at about 2 am, I nearly went home to loose my baby somewhere comfortable, but the nurse convinced me to stay. When the doctor came, he ordered a tonne of blood tests, iv fluids, an internal exam, and eventually an ultrasound. By time he decided on the ultrasound, it was 4 in the morning, so he told us to stay, as the U/S would be booked for "first thing in the morning." Early morning, mid morning, and late morning passed, and I was finally taken to have the u/s done at noon.

The ultrasound was surprising. There was a baby in there, alive and kicking, little heart pumping. The placenta is where it ought to be, the baby looks fine, if a little stressed. The problem is that there was a great deal of bleeding inside of the baby's sack, which is why I am still bleeding. When I was finally discharged, the doctor told me that I am experiencing a "threatened miscarriage." Basically, things could get better, or they could get worse and I could loose the baby. No one knows which way it will go, no one can change the outcome.

So, we wait, and we hope for the best while trying to prepare ourselves for the worst. The doctor told me that there is no reason why I can't continue to do what I do in day to day life, though he did suggest I take it easy for the next few days. If this is a miscarriage it will happen whether I am lying down or standing up. It's almost worse now, by time I went up for the u/s I had resigned myself to the fact that I'd lost the baby, but now I've seen it. If this is a miscarriage, it will be so much harder now that I've actually seen a living baby in my belly.

Falling Down

Not much to talk about here. The last two days I have been falling down a lot. I'm not sure why, I've often had problems with fainting in the past, but this is kind of extreme. I fainted twice yesterday, and already three times today. I called my doctors office and spoke with his nurse, and she was concerned enough to cram me in to the schedule for tomorrow afternoon. I believe I shall insist that Ian come home early from work tomorrow though, I don't trust myself to drive right now as the dizzyness is almost constant, and the fainting is bad, would be worse if it were to happen behind the wheel.

Mary is dealing with her fainting mother quite well. I wake up sprawled on the floor, couch or bed, with Mary staring at me. Once I figure out who I am and where I am, which takes a while, she grins, says "HI!" and demands a cookie. Heartless child. Thankfully I've not fallen on her, or while holding her, though it is a concern if this garbage keeps up. I really hope it doesn't. I hope I don't end up on bed rest already. I hope I don't lose the baby. Worrying does not help.

Sleeping is going a bit better, though I'm still only averaging about 4 hours a night as far as I can tell. Mary doesn't help much on that front. Monday night she was up from 12:30 to about 3 am, and she woke up this morning at about 4:30 and crashed around till Ian left for work. She's apparantly decided that sleeping is for loosers these days, she rarely naps anymore, and she stays up very late at night.

Purgatory is tomorrow night. I don't care if it kills me, I will attend that game, though I may have to miss out on the Arturian game that is happening Saturday night. I have a hard enough time with two games in one weekend at the best of times, and after the last couple of days, I really don't know if I can handle it this weekend.

A Typical Night

11:00 - Ian and I go to bed.

11:30 - We stop chatting about the day and get down to the serious business of trying to sleep.

11:35 - Ian is asleeep.

Midnight - I have to pee. Get up, stumble to the bathroom scattering cats in my wake, and do what I need too. Get back in bed.

12:15 - 2 am - Mind races through various topics. What will Mary look like when she grows up? How will Ian die? How will I die? How will the cats die? Did Ian lock the front door? Did the car doors get locked? What's that sound? I wonder if I could burn down the house and get away with it?

2:15 - Mind slows, doze off slightly.

2:30 - I have to pee. Kick Ian. Get up grumbling and do my business.

2:35 - Step in cat puke on the way back to bed. Curse.

2:45 - Crawl back in to bed. Ian snores. Kick Ian again.

2:50 - 5:15 - Toss, turn. Worry. Grumble. Kick Ian. Wonder about the baby I'm having in June. Is it a boy? Girl? Will Mary like it? Will I die giving birth to it? Will it die? Will it be handicapped because I forgot my pre-natal vitamin before going to bed tonight? I wonder if I can burn down the house without getting caught, or killing the cats...

5:30 - ARGH! Have to pee. Do it.

5:45 - Doze off again. Sweet sweet sleep.

6:00 - Ians alarm goes off. Cry.

6:07 - Alarm again.

6:14 - and again.

6:21 - and again.

6:28 - and again.

6:30 - Ian gets up. Crashes around house getting ready.

6:45 - Doze off.

7:00 - Ian leaves for work, slamming every door on the way.

7:30 - Finally! Sweet sleep takes me away!

8:30 - Mary wakes up. Chats quietly to herself in her bedroom, but still wakes me up.

9:00 - Mary gets impatient, pounds on wall with feet, hands, head, and whatever else she can think of.

9:15 - I stumble, weeping, out of bed and get another happy happy day started.


That was last night. Doesn't it sound like fun? It was a pretty typical night, though I do get an hour or two more sleep most nights. I don't know what it is, maybe my body is trying to prepare me for the inevitable fun of having a newborn and not getting any sleep.

Light at the End of the Tunnel?

Today, I feel great! It's kind of surprising, really. I've still got some lingering nausea, but it is so much less than what I've been dealing with for the last several weeks that I feel like I'm in heaven. Could this signal the beginning of the end? According to my calculations, I'm only 10 weeks along, and with Mary the morning/all day sickness didn't end till I was about 16 weeks, but this one could be different, right?

I had a pretty nice weekend. On Friday we dropped Mary off with Raven and company, and we went on a date! I know! It was crazy, to spend time with the man I married, talking to him, eating a half decent nice supper without having to deal with Mary or run out the door for some commitment or another. It was really quite amazing. We also picked the right Friday night not to hang round Ravens place, as there were 10 children between the ages of 1ish and 7ish roaming around. By time we got back all the kids except the littlest babies were sleeping.

Saturday Ian started his new/old second job. His current job just doesn't give enough hours for us to do things like pay the mortgage and buy groceries, so he went back to the place he left to become a construction worker, and told them he would work for them Saturdays and any time he got snowed out of his other job. They welcomed him back with open (and desperate for at least one competent worker) arms, and now he is doing the job that he actually enjoyed there without any responsibility, but with close to the same hourly wage as he was getting when he left. Nice, eh?

Sunday we went over to Ian's aunt and uncle's place and hung out with the gang. Colleen and Terry are really the closest thing to Grandparents that Mary has here in Edmonton, and we all love going over there in spite of the high noise levels. Ian's cousins four year old boy Buddy is often there as well, and Mary quite adores chasing him around and trying to be just like him. They always make us feel incredibly welcome and part of the family, not to mention the fact that they feed us very well every Sunday.

Today Mary let me sleep in, I did some cleaning, and made a huge pot of Manhattan clam chowder. It's incredibly easy to make, and I LOVE the stuff. My dad always makes it for me when we drive to Regina, and it's great to have on a nasty winters day like today. It'll be nice and hot on the stove when poor Ian stumbles in from a long day working in the snow, wind and cold.

Lest We Forget

In Flanders Fields
By Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae MD (1872 - 1918)

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky,
The larks stil bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow.
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Still Alive

Hello, everyone. Yes, I'm still alive, even though I've neglected this little corner of my life shamefully. I really haven't done or thought much lately. Occasionally I think about blogging, but I think that y'all would get sick of daily posts of "Still want to puke. Sweet Jesus I hate being pregnant, why did I do this to myself again?" Wouldn't you?

Anyways. I still want to puke all day long. I hate being pregnant. I hated it the first time, but for some reason I forgot that fact in the 1.5 years after giving birth to Mary. Now I remember. I will not forget again, I swear it.

Grey's Anatomy was a doozy tonight. I have found that the first several episodes this season did not have the emotional punch of last season. I hardly wept in any of them. Tonight, I cried. Oh man, I cried. They had a pregnant woman who fell in the shower and broke her wrist. When doing an ultrasound, it was discovered that the baby, who had been healthy the day before, was dead. They showed the poor girl giving birth to her dead baby. I have to say, when I was pregnant with Mary, and now in this pregnancy, that is my biggest fear. Having to go through labour for a dead baby. I don't think I could do it, I really don't. Anyways, I've already had nightmares about this very thing, I don't imagine I'll sleep very well tonight.

Alcohol

The other night a friend of mine was telling me that she believes that a glass of wine every once in a while when pregnant is harmless. I was inclined to believe with her, and for the most part I still am. I believe that the big problem is binge drinking, and people who don't know when to stop. I didn't drink when I was pregnant with Mary, and I won't drink during this pregnancy either, it's a choice I have made, and a choice that was cemented in the last two days.

Yesterday and today I babysat for a friend. She has several foster children, two of whom are babies. These babies are wonderful happy little guys, but they are definately special needs kids. They require feeding through tubes, they are both 12 months old, but developmentally they remind me of Mary when she was about 6 months. It is an incredible amount of work to look after them. It's frustrating, annoying, dificult and at times heartwrenching, and I admire my friend immensely for the work that she does with these kids. Some people don't understand it, I do, it needs to be done, and without people like her and her husband, these babies wouldn't have anywhere to go. I certainly couldn't do it.

Anyways, after looking after these babies, I came to a realization as to why even if I think it probably won't do any damage to have a glass of wine I will be drinking gingerale at Christmas. I'm just not absolutely certain. I don't want to take the chance of ending up with a child that is ill simply because I missed drinking wine now and then. And to be honest, a big part of it is selfishness too, I don't ever want to have to deal with what I've been dealing with the last couple of days again.

Anyways, there you have it. Now for pictures of my beautiful girl on Haloween! The first picture is in our kitchen (notice the tasteful teal tile on the walls! It's in the bathroom too.) and the second is at Ian's aunt and uncle's place.