Anything Else?

Tic Toc.

Tic Toc.

A watched pot never boils.

Here are the things I have done over the last few days in an effort to “forget” that I haven’t had even a sniff of labor yet.

  1. Finished building the crib
  2. Started and then finished building the changing table
  3. Screwed down the support boards for the guest bed
  4. Made the guest bed, decided the sheets were hideous against the wall color in the new house and let my husband loose on the internet to find a suitable sheet set
  5. Dug out our Dr. Scholl’s foot bath and peppermint scented Epsom salts and soaked my super itchy feet
  6. Attempted to make a decision on hooking up the “entertainment studio”, got discouraged and stayed on the couch watching back to back episodes of The Simpsons and Cops
  7. Read some of a book
  8. Made a marinade for Shelby’s flank steak
  9. Upped my regimen from one long walk per day to one long walk per day and at least two short ones
  10. Googled and read approximately 80 trillion birth stories, natural labor inducing techniques, and pregnancy/labor & delivery blogs
  11. Drank all of the water
  12. Very little work, very little
  13. Sorta kinda got an estimate for fixing the walkway out front – no one can really understand what this guy is saying
  14. Much internet window shopping for everything from odds and ends (shower caddies etc) to new appliances and light fixtures

Here are the things that haven’t yet been done that could still use our attention prior to the baby’s arrival.

  1. Install the carseat (holy crap just put the thing in the car already!)
  2. Visit the surplus warehouse and get us some free seating arrangements before the company comes
  3. Sort the baby clothes and accouterments and wash & store them
  4. Make a dang decision about the X-box set-up and then just do it
  5. Get everything out of the townhouse, get the shelves off the walls, get moved out
  6. Get the rest of our stuff from Beth (including the guest towels, pillows, and fall/winter clothes/coats)

I mean, I guess technically we should clean and straighten up the new house and such, but the kid is just gonna explode all over that anyway, and we’re still moving in. I’m having a hard enough time finding where Shoobs has “hidden” things without inviting him to hide more. We took a pretty expensive trip to Costco to stock up on stuff for our inevitable guests that we are now in a frenzy to eat before it goes bad (fruit etc).

Speaking of the husband, Shelby has been dutifully grocery shopping, cooking, and freezing food for us. Not surprisingly, the kitchen is pretty well established at this point. The drawers and cabinets have been filled, the fridge organized and reorganized, the pantry and spice unit all sorted. He still chips away at boxes every day and has done a remarkable job keeping up with laundry and dishes. He even put some of our plants around to make the house feel more homey. It’s so fun to walk into the house after work and see what has changed or been updated. Especially because I am so over everything that all I want to do is find a comfortable place (way easier said than done) and just melt away there until this very stubborn child relents to be born.

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Progress, Or Not

No baby. I have started having irrational arguments with the unborn; squishing her and confining her and pushing her down every time I feel her little feet stretch up under my ribs. WRONG WAY DARLIN.

And I’m not the only one. Our friend was 5 days late with her second child before welcoming a healthy baby boy last month. A cousin was due two days before me and still hasn’t delivered her third child. And this is my first, which according to google, is obviously the latest child anyone ever had ever. TIMELINES BABY. Now you are messing with timelines in the wrong direction. Fix it.

Speaking of timelines being all wonky. The carpet people finally called. They are scheduled to install on Monday afternoon. I had hoped to have an answer on what we’re doing with the TH before November 1, but whatever. Clearly no one is considering my timeline anymore (shouted very loudly in the direction of my belly button). Since the carpet install has been scheduled, the cleaning service my sis and mom so graciously helped us out with has been contacted to schedule the complete and utter scrub down.

So. Baby. You must arrive tonight/tomorrow so you will get to meet one of your Aunties and not screw up her entire visit by being in the hospital and also not screw up the carpet and cleaning. Thank you.

P.S. I know your dad said try to hold on until November, but he was being silly. He totally said it’s ok. So you can come now.

P.P.S. This is not how assistant stage managers behave. If you’re early you’re on time and if you’re on time you’re late. So you are very very late. I’m gonna need you to do better.

Hashtag Still Pregnant

Today is my due date. Thank you baby for not messing up the loan approval or the closing. Thanks for letting us get the movers situated and the crib delivered. Now, if you would kindly remove yourself from my body, we have this whole weird world out here for you to explore. Or, you know, sleep on. Point is, it’s so much roomier out here and your momma will be so much happier.

In other “has not happened yet” news…the carpet install date has not yet been set. Getting a little frustrated about that, but too pregnant to invest the energy in tracking down the company to get it on the calendar. As such, the cleaning has not been scheduled yet. We figured we’d let the guys get in and make a mess with carpet fibers, footprints, and whatever else they manage to do before we had the cleaning “crew” come in and wipe down the walls etc. We also have not totally moved out of the townhouse. We have all the boxes and all the essentials, but have left things like empty flower pots and soil, beach and camping equipment, cleaning supplies, and the tools in the toolbox (not to be confused with the basket of tools we have already moved). Essentially all the stuff from the outdoor closet.

We did knock out a pretty significant portion of the unpacking this weekend. But now we just have stuff on surfaces with no rhyme or reason. We are slowly chinking away at living in our new place and finding out what that means in terms of where we want things to be, like Q-tips and bread and the coffee maker. It’s all still a little hap-hazard. And I am happy to report that we are mostly in agreement on how the house flows, but there is totally room for adjustment. I’m just ready for it all to be off the counters and floors and put somewhere, anywhere.

OK – I guess I’m gonna try to focus on work. Or pretending to work. Send thoughts of hashtag NOT pregnant my way! BABY!

“A wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.” – J.R.R. Tolkein

I Banish Thee

This day does not count. I banish it from existence. I adamantly refuse to acknowledge October 22, 2015 as a day and therefor it WILL NOT be the day my daughter is born. It will be that weird and horrendous day before my daughter was born that we shall never speak of again.

What kind of day starts with a car accident and ends (so far and so help me this had better be the end of it) with getting a 2 Cheeseburger meal wrong at the McDonalds drive thru? This day.

I was all set to write up a post about our first official night in our new house. It was going to be dripping with eloquence and blah blah, yeah right. It was going to be the same drivel you have come to expect. But it was going to be positive. And then I woke up.

New house = new commute. I’ve also got impending baby situation and have been trying to get in as much overtime as I can without overextending my poor little pregnant self. That said, I also took half a day on Monday for the closing and have been trying to at least get to 40 hours this week so that I don’t have to use the precious personal time I need for impending baby situation. So when my “first” alarm went off this morning, instead of turning it off in favor of the full 30 minutes of uninterrupted sleep before my “real” alarm, I just hit snooze and tried to convince myself not call in pregnant to work today. I eventually extracted myself from the covers, showered, found clothes (I smartly kept 3 sets of work clothes out for M-W but neglected to factor in the rest of the week cuz, I don’t know, magic elves were going to open all our boxes and hang up our clothes for us) (and also, there is almost no overhead lighting in the new house, a weird fun fact that makes it very difficult to find clothes when the sun still hasn’t come up), and started on my merry way out the door.

Comparatively speaking, our new house is out in the country. There are very few street lights, but apparently an abundance of deer. I have yet to see a live one though, but saw three new dead ones littering the side of the road on the way to work this morning. I narrowly missed one buck that looked so serene, like he was sitting in a field with only the slightest deer in the headlights paranoia look about him. He looked natural, not all twisted with his tongue out, but he was definitely dead, and that was weird.

I was stupidly trying to remember the best way to get to work rather than using that handy GPS thing all the kids are using these days. The sun was glaring into my windshield and I vaguely saw signs that looked like things I should be paying attention to which is how I ended up going the wrong way on the wrong freeway like a dope. Luckily I figured it out fast and pulled off at the next exit and dutifully entered my work address into my Google Maps app and started merrily on my way again. Since I was all turned around, it was taking me to the appropriate freeway entrance through the city streets. Crowded city streets. With sun yet again glaring through the windshield. So when the line of cars in front of me stopped, I stopped, but the girl behind me did not stop. And hit me with enough force that I sent the car in front of me into the car in front of it. Another 5 or 6 cars piled up behind her as well.

There was little to no damage to my Toyota (gotta love Toyota). The car in front of me was a Saturn that rammed into a Chevy truck with trailer hitch. The back bumper where I hit was totally fine, the front, however, was rather crunched. Which meant I had to stay for the police report. As bad as she must have felt before we all congregated on the sidewalk, I can only imagine the mental anguish the crash initiator went through when she saw not only my enormously pregnant body peel out of the front seat, but the couple from the car in front of me circle around to the backseat to pull their 3ish month old baby out of his car seat. She had a bad morning.

Multiple cars, multiple policemen, one long exhausting police report later meant that instead of getting to work early, I was now about an hour later than my usual time, AKA an hour and 1/2 later than the time I wanted to be there. I called the midwives like a good girl, told them about the accident and answered a few questions. Yes I can feel the baby moving. No I don’t have any sharp pains in my belly. No I do not recall hitting my belly directly on anything. Yes I was wearing my seat belt. They assured me that everything was probably OK, but given how close I am to my due date, recommended I come in for a quick check up just to be sure. The office I usually go to is only open Monday/Wednesday/Friday so I had to essentially go back to the new house to the main office to be seen. I could already feel the minutes ticking by as any hope of making a full 8 hours today let alone OT started to slip further from reality. But I went and checked in and waited. Probably about 20 minutes. Typical for this larger office. I was taken to the back by the nurse who said my weight and blood pressure looked good and then put me in a room where I waited some more for the Dr. The doc came in and recapped all the answers I gave over the phone and told me she wanted to hook me up to the fetal monitor for about 20 minutes just to get a printout of the heartbeat and check to see if I was contracting. They hooked me up, brought me some water, and left me with my phone to sit in the cushy recliner chair for twenty minutes strapped to a beeping, buzzing machine slowly excreting little bits of graph paper with three sets of squiggly lines. “Twenty minutes, so we’ll be back to check on you at 1.”

1 came and went.

1:15 came and went.

1:30 came and my patience went. It wasn’t long before I started calling the front desk to see if they could send someone back to find me and unhook me, but no one was answering. “You are caller number 2, your call will be answered in approximately 1 minute.” On repeat about every 5 – 10 seconds. “You are caller number 2, your call will be answered in approximately 1 minute.” And then the approximate wait time went up to 2 minutes, then 3, then 6. I heard people in the hallway so I started shouting Hello! Nothing. I hung up and tried calling the front desk again. This time with my phone on speaker, still shouting Hello in the general direction of the hallway. Every time that stupid announcement came up “You are caller number 2, your call will be answered in approximately 1 minute.” I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks and could hear the baby’s heartbeat pick up the pace. Finally I got so agitated that the monitor started reeeeeeeeally beeping loudly because baby’s heartbeat was too fast. I tried taking deep breaths and the monitor would settle. Then, “Your call is the next in line and will be answered by the next available representative.” The coil of paper on the floor, the repetition of “Your call is the next in line and will be answered by the next available representative.” would get me all worked up and the monitor would start going off again. I sat up and the doppler shifted setting the monitor off again because it looked like baby’s heart was only beating at 38 BPM. All the while I am still shouting for someone to come unhook me. At 5 minutes to 2, the phone finally gave up and kicked me to voicemail. You better believe I left a voicemail. I started looking for the monitor’s off button so I could unstrap myself. It had now been over an hour since I was supposed to have been checked, AKA an hour and 1/2 since I had been strapped in, I hadn’t eaten lunch, and I had consumed a very large glass of water. I was a very unhappy abandoned pregnant lady.

Finally, at 10 minutes after 2, some poor unsuspecting nurse poked her head in to answer my hollering and said she would find the doctor. A few minutes later, “my” nurse came in and unhooked me so I could go to the restroom. When I got back, the doc was in the room apologizing profusely. She kept apologizing and then just staring me in the eyes. She wanted me to tell her it was alright but I did not. I told her I understood I was a drop in patient, but leaving me strapped to a monitor without so much as a knock on the door for over an hour was not something I was happy about. That there is every possibility (given that I was there for a follow-up from a multi-vehicle car accident) that something could be wrong, or go very wrong very quickly, and that is what was unacceptable more-so than the disrespect to my time for which she was so profusely apologizing. That every time I have to go to the main office I am abandoned in a room and left for endless drags of time and that is something that should be addressed, and addressed quickly before my next appointment on Monday morning because I will not be waiting until the end of time dressed only in a sheet of paper hoping the doctor will show up. But the real issue here is that they left a first timer alone for more than an hour after a worrying episode of physical harm.

They just forgot. They went to a lunch and learn and just forgot that I was there.

I took deep breaths before I started driving again. This day started with a car accident and I’d be damned if I was going to get in another one. I still hadn’t eaten and decided that the oatmeal, fruit, and yogurt at my office wan’t really going to do it for me so I pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru. I ordered a 2 cheeseburger meal, no pickle, side salad, unsweet tea. They asked what kind of dressing, I asked if they had honey mustard, they said OK and told me to pull to the first window. I am not kidding when I say it took 20 minutes to get through the FAST FOOD LINE. First window took my card, then took about 3 more orders and shouted some stuff at the people in the back before giving my card back. I pulled forward to the second window where I was informed that they did not have any unsweet tea brewed and asked if I wanted something else. The deep sigh I gave scared the boy and he tried backtracking a little. I just told him to give me a coke instead and he offered to make it a large. Sure, give me more of the thing I don’t want. Awesome. Then he started to hand me a bag with a McDouble, not 2 cheeseburgers. Then he ran to the back and put two cheeseburgers in a bag, threw a couple things of Honey Mustard Dipping Sauce into the bag and smiled at me like a puppy. Throughout this time, he was asking very curious questions about my meal choices, like how I could possibly prefer unsweet tea because it tasted like water to him. He asked why I wanted dipping sauce for my burgers because he thought that was weird. I told him honey mustard was supposed to be for the side salad, and I didn’t see a side salad in this bag.

“Oh! You wanted the side salad? Ok.”

So then he ran to the back to get the side salad, came back with a bag and shouted out the window, “What kind of dressing you want with that? Just, like, Ranch?”

“Ummm, honey mustard?!”

“OK, let me see if we have any in the back.”

“Forget it, I’ll use the dipping sauce. It’s fine.” I’m freaking pregnant and starving, give me my food or I will eat your face. 

And of course, the burgers had pickles.

And that is why my daughter will not be born this day. I just can’t. Even though the fetal stress test showed that I am apparently contracting, though I don’t feel a thing (I could get used to this kinda labor!), I refuse to remember this day. It will be wiped from the motherboard and we will start fresh tomorrow. She is allowed to come tomorrow.

Assuming my house doesn’t explode today.

Stressed OUT!!!

There is too much. There is simply too much. I handled it fairly well up to now, but then I left the office for another prenatal appointment and am now on complete shut-down. Does not compute.

I have a job. Though I have informed my bosses and HR team that I intend to, nay NEED to, return to my job after my disability is expired, I get the sense they are hesitant to trust. Which I totally understand, especially since someone else just proclaimed the same and then handed in her resignation letter the day she left for disability. And I also understand that I have a lot of things going on that I have “owned” that will not stop while I am out. Trust me when I say I come at this rant/mental breakdown from a place of complete and utter understanding.

I have had no less than 12 individual appointments in the past 3 days, not including personal appointments like the Dr and the Closing. Each of these appointments has requested a follow-up appointment. Each of these has generated a bajillion (no exaggeration) email exchanges. It is getting hard to keep up and even harder to care. Add to that that I have made myself the primary contact for all things housing (because I can’t not be in control) and you inevitably come up with a scenario like today…

I was on a conference call on my land line. Someone on the call was IMing me about something unrelated (so clearly we were both paying very good attention). Then I got a call on my cell phone that the movers would like to come early. Probably not a problem, but I was tied up on the other call and couldn’t confirm with Shelby who is actually the one at the house trying to get it together for the movers to come “on time”. So I redirected them to contact him. Then he texts that he can’t get the bed apart because he can’t find the right screwdriver which admittedly I did move this morning because I CAN’T STOP PACKING EVER! 

And then I left the office for an hour. And took a few deep breaths. And when I came back in, I absolutely couldn’t care less about whether or not sample X is on the list of 164 other samples we have received, or what date the sample should be expected to come in, or when the other 164 can be sent back out, or when the last batch of samples was sent (if ever). I don’t care about CCFs and CAPAs and transition checklists. I would prefer to go to my new home, which in my sitcom brain is completely perfect and organized/unpacked with dinner and roses waiting in our new kitchen, sit my lean body down on the couch with a glass of wine and watch the fire crackle in the fireplace while the baby coos lightly in the corner.

*Sigh*

Well That Was Easy

And so begins the Shemanda Empire. We officially own two houses. And for now, while we still only have one set of bills, we are having fun with it.

We met at the new house for a quick walk through with the realtor. It was kinda neat, but kinda surreal. Shelby has been back for various inspections and such, but I have not been to the house since we first viewed it the Friday before Labor Day. It was essentially as I remembered it, but this walk-thru I was looking with a more critical eye.

They moved across country. Movers don’t move flammable liquids or hazardous materials and I’m not sure how they decided to transport themselves there, but they left us a TON of cleaning products. Toilet cleaner, laundry detergent, oven cleaner, even rubber gloves. There are some random closet doors inside the coat closet and a huge obnoxious lamp in guest bedroom, but they also left us the hose and hose caddy, a garden bench, and another island with two stools. I was running late, so I didn’t get to remind myself of the status upstairs, but I’m sure nothing is too different.

After the walk-thru, we drove to the lawyer’s office to go through the closing paperwork. It took about 1/2 hour. Maybe 45 minutes. Everything was signed, jokes were made about my middle name and Shelby’s first name, I handed over one of the largest checks ever and due to a last minute adjustment, one of the smallest checks ever, and then we were on our way.

Side note, even though the actual closing didn’t take long, the closing plus walk-thru plus driving to both locations meant that it had been a while since this preggo had seen the inside of a restroom. We left the offices of the second floor and luckily, there was a bathroom right outside the door! Locked. Totally had one of those handles that has the punch buttons that you have to punch in the correct order to make the lock function. The men’s room directly across the water fountain didn’t seem to have the same handle. Fail. So I decided no big deal, I can wait til I get home. But there was another restroom right around the corner from the elevators so I tried again. Another female handle with the punch lock with the men’s room completely open! “Why don’t they want women to use the bathroom?!” Some guy I assumed to be a building custodian of some sort took pity on me and gave me the code to get in, but still, very very weird. What shenanigans are ladies getting up to in the bathrooms that the public are not allowed to use them?

Step one complete, closing has passed and the baby did not mess it up so that is awesome. Shelby is going to move some stuff over to the new house today, plants mostly. We finally separated ourselves from the couch that shall not be named and it is sitting on the curb waiting to be carted off to couch heaven. That’s one thing I’ll miss about living in the city limits, leaving bulk items at the curb for free dump pick-up rather than paying to take it to the dump yourself, but such is life. The movers come tomorrow to move the majority of the rest of our stuff. I addressed the carpet debacle yesterday and got a much more reasonable deal on a new carpet install so that has been paid for. Now we wait for the carpet to be cut which prompts the installation team to schedule the install. Everything takes a little longer than anticipated, but whatever, it will get done. And if it doesn’t get done before baby no name comes, then it will give me something other than diapers and breast milk to focus on for my sanity.

We’re still taking it day to day. Today is Tuesday, allegedly my last Tuesday as a pregnant lady. Also known as the quiet Tuesday before the weekend of theatre juggling. Tech Wednesday, fundraiser Thursday, retech for production Friday that runs through the weekend, and then a reset for 3 improv groups the following week. Wish us luck for the rest of the month!