(Actually now with PhD, but Doctor of Philosophy just doesn't have the same evil ring, does it?)
As you may have noticed, I'm not online much these days. Too much going on to write about it. I barely even check my email every few days.
For now, laters.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Friday, September 22, 2006
Since You Asked...
Geez, what is this, a baby dating profile?
Anyhoo, he was 7 lbs 16, 21". And supposedly he has a smallish head, though it sure didn't feel like it to me.
Anyhoo, he was 7 lbs 16, 21". And supposedly he has a smallish head, though it sure didn't feel like it to me.
Limelet 2
Here he is...cuter than we deserved.
Good to know all those dang organic eggs I had to eat went into building this little critter!
Good to know all those dang organic eggs I had to eat went into building this little critter!
Sunday, September 17, 2006
It's Official
In classic sitcom style, several hours ago, my water broke in public. However, it was at a pumpkin and cider place, not the grocery store. However, I was determined to get my dang cider and donuts that I had been wanting all week, so I counted on people tending not to look at one's groinal area too closely and bought them anyway. (There was also the giant-belly camouflage factor.) However, it did pretty much look like I had just wet my pants terribly.
So, any further news is likely up to Argot, as I am going to go to the bedroom and work on getting this baby out.
So, any further news is likely up to Argot, as I am going to go to the bedroom and work on getting this baby out.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Pumpkinless Patch
Anyone familiar with pumpkin farming? Our fertile spell has extended to everything in the vicinity except the pumpkin vines.
We got tons of pumpkin blossoms. And clearly the insects were doing something right, as the corn, watermelons, and cantaloupes all are bearing fruit (not to mention the tomatoes and peppers). The pumpkin vines, however, remain unfruited after at least a month of flowering.
I guess I could--I don't know, look it up online or something.
We got tons of pumpkin blossoms. And clearly the insects were doing something right, as the corn, watermelons, and cantaloupes all are bearing fruit (not to mention the tomatoes and peppers). The pumpkin vines, however, remain unfruited after at least a month of flowering.
I guess I could--I don't know, look it up online or something.
Alright Already!
I admit it.
Now that I've had one "scare" and gotten all ready to go, I am getting a bit impatient. Mainly because I feel on hold now with everything. If there hadn't been the scare, then I'd probably just still be trundling along patiently. (I'm still not going to try to do things to "start" it, though.)
Now that I've had one "scare" and gotten all ready to go, I am getting a bit impatient. Mainly because I feel on hold now with everything. If there hadn't been the scare, then I'd probably just still be trundling along patiently. (I'm still not going to try to do things to "start" it, though.)
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Holding Pattern
Doesn't this look comfortable?!
Well, it all kinda petered out for Monday and Tuesday, though it came back last night and this morning. We'll see. Now that I have things mostly ready, I feel less panicked. It can take its time as far as I'm concerned.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Shot of Whiskey?
My herbal childbearing book says that one way to slow or stall labor is to have a shot of whiskey. TheLimey believes that this is actually meant to be given to the husband.
Now, I don't know if it's anything yet, but I've been having a whole lot more of these pre-labor (as if there's a sharp dividing line!) contractions today than any time during the past week or so. My mantra has been "But It Could Still Be Another Week or Two." (That and, "But I'm Not Ready Yet!")
I'm posting this just so that Argot can have a post to which to reply and let people know the outcome, in case I do go in. I'm sure as heck not gonna be bloggin'. (I imagine.)
I have been trying to arrange for the traditional womenfolk relations to be around for some of this, as "the materials" say to have someone help the new mum out for three weeks. I don't know about three weeks, but maybe we can get two.
It looks like my stepmom may be able to come out for a few days, perhaps after TheLimey's week off runs out, or maybe with some overlap. Which means I can delay being alone for a while longer, which I really do want to do.
Also, I was initially thinking of having no one but the two of us for the actual birth (too crowded!)--unless Argot could get across country somehow, which she can't--but then I remembered that my aunt has had three natural births of her own. And since I have heard several women (including our birth instructor) say that there's something especially helpful about having a woman there who has gone through it herself, I am now trying to get her out here for the pre-birth segment, and maybe the birth. If it can wait until Tuesday.
Waiter! Where's my whiskey?!
Now, I don't know if it's anything yet, but I've been having a whole lot more of these pre-labor (as if there's a sharp dividing line!) contractions today than any time during the past week or so. My mantra has been "But It Could Still Be Another Week or Two." (That and, "But I'm Not Ready Yet!")
I'm posting this just so that Argot can have a post to which to reply and let people know the outcome, in case I do go in. I'm sure as heck not gonna be bloggin'. (I imagine.)
I have been trying to arrange for the traditional womenfolk relations to be around for some of this, as "the materials" say to have someone help the new mum out for three weeks. I don't know about three weeks, but maybe we can get two.
It looks like my stepmom may be able to come out for a few days, perhaps after TheLimey's week off runs out, or maybe with some overlap. Which means I can delay being alone for a while longer, which I really do want to do.
Also, I was initially thinking of having no one but the two of us for the actual birth (too crowded!)--unless Argot could get across country somehow, which she can't--but then I remembered that my aunt has had three natural births of her own. And since I have heard several women (including our birth instructor) say that there's something especially helpful about having a woman there who has gone through it herself, I am now trying to get her out here for the pre-birth segment, and maybe the birth. If it can wait until Tuesday.
Waiter! Where's my whiskey?!
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Landwhale Weekend
Now, to try to catch up on our activities this past month. I actually wrote this entry offline over the weekend while we were watching a movie, as I am trying to multitask even recreational activities at this point. I have photos to add in, but Blogger is apparently in that mood again where it will claim to have uploaded my photo, but then it refuses to display it. [...Later: Ha! There it goes, finally.]
Anyway.
We scheduled various things in August to try to squeeze in everything we won’t be able to do forever (or for twenty years or so—whichever comes first). Of course at the time we planned it all, I naïvely assumed that I would be done with my diss work by now, or at least done enough to take some weekends off for that purpose. Oh well...
We spent our B&B weekend on the east coast of Michigan in a little tourist-y coastal-y sort of place. The east coast accommodations turned out to cost about half what west coast ones do, probably since there aren’t the thousands of Chicago residents fleeing to them every weekend in the summer. Our B&B was quintessential small-town America, featuring bird houses, cicadas, and a bunny that came up to us on the patio at breakfast (it was really waiting for us to leave so it could resume its munching on the flower bed.)
We stayed at the jauntily named Captain’s Quarters, which had an excellent sittin’ porch and was within walking distance of—well, everything. Beach, shops, café, downtown, DQ, old-school IGA grocery store, etc. As we wanted to do without the car the entire weekend, this was perfect. As it turned out, the entire town was a mini-twilight zone in that it was a pocket of non-reception for our phones, too, which was actually nice. I also noted that according to the guestbook in our room, the previous weekend the place had hosted Marshall Crenshaw and his co-musicians. So if it's good enough for them...
Basically, we lounged the entire time, and made very limited and flexible plans (specifically to ignore). I had just gotten to the point of being too bulky to move very fast or far, which dictated a lot of lassitude. It's possible that I scandalized the vacationing beachgoers by wearing my red bikini while hugely pregnant (at least my inner youthful punk-rock self hopes so), but no one looked terribly offended.
On Friday night I was again reading our well-used copy of a Dirk Gently novel (The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul), which mentions a hosepipe at one juncture. This reminded me with a shock that as we were leaving the house I had turned on the hose in the garden to water the vegetables before we left…and I didn’t remember turning it back off. I agonized over it that night, and prepared myself for (at least) a swamp of drowned plants upon our return, but decided to not think about it while we were there. There was nothing we could do, anyway, so—might as well enjoy the weekend.
We visited all the little shops and finally settled on one (1) washable and floppy plush bear for the baby’s first “lovey.” We picnicked on fried chicken (from the IGA) at the park and got ice creams at the DQ. We sat outdoors at a café and read. We also did a lot of other reading (and in my case, napping). There was even a good squirrel-feeding stump down the block on the way to the beach, though it was the kind where you leave the peanuts and stand back. I also found the perfect doll for my "Hot Rock" sister at the dollar store...
Saturday night featured TheLimey’s 40-minute hiking quest for The Perfect Hot Dog. Or really any hot dog, once we were into it for 30 minutes. You wouldn’t think it, since the DQ was literally around the corner (visible from the B&B's back yard). Unfortunately, the lines that had formed there put him off. (Hmmm…curious, for all the times I’ve heard him brag about his superior British queuing ability.)
So we walked up the next block just to see what was there, and saw a place selling foods including hot dogs—but just a bit farther I could see there was an actual A&W. That was my suggestion, as A&W is of course the classic American hot dog. However, there had been a Blimpy’s downtown (in the complete opposite direction, naturally), that we had to check out first. (Keep in mind how slowly I had to walk, or trundle, during this entire quest.) So we turned around and headed there.
Unfortunately, when we finally got to the Blimpy's, it had been closed for hours. Therefore, we had to turn around again and head back the way we originally went. The DQ lines? Still too long. Though no doubt if we had waited initially instead of walking all over town we could have got through the lines about five or six times. But at this point, I absolutely insisted that we were going to get the dang hot dog, and he was going to eat it, and like it! So… A&W it was. To go. Sheesh.
Turns out that a Pinot is good for a hot dog eaten outdoors. (I only had a tiny bit of the Pinot, but it was nice.) While we sat out on the patio, there was a meteor that streaked overhead so closely it seemed to audibly sizzle over the trees.
Our visit also happened to coincide with the Perseid meteor showers, although we didn’t realize it at first. We saw one meteor on Friday night, and then Saturday night went out on the sea-wall to look at the Milky Way. This was a bonanza of unexpected and beautiful celestial phenomena: there was a fantastic moonrise over the lake as we approached; lots and lots of meteors; and we even saw the space station.
The drive home was--just as the drive there--pretty agonizing on my back, but I survived. And the great thing was that when we got home, the small stream we found flowing in the driveway was coming from next to the garden bed, not inside it: the stake I had used to prop up the hose sprayer head had apparently keeled over as soon as the ground had gotten wet, and the sprayer fell onto the pavement. I felt guilty about the water waste, of course, but at least the plants were undrowned.
The water source in the heat had attracted a very small and cute toad, which I removed to a more vegetative area of the yard. (For those of you who've never had another person living in your abdomen, here's a comparison: its little wigglings inside my hand felt just like the baby feels wiggling in my belly, only smaller, of course.)
Since a lot of B&Bs don't really cater to children (for some reason!), I think it was a pretty good job we did this again while we still could.
Anyway.
We scheduled various things in August to try to squeeze in everything we won’t be able to do forever (or for twenty years or so—whichever comes first). Of course at the time we planned it all, I naïvely assumed that I would be done with my diss work by now, or at least done enough to take some weekends off for that purpose. Oh well...
We spent our B&B weekend on the east coast of Michigan in a little tourist-y coastal-y sort of place. The east coast accommodations turned out to cost about half what west coast ones do, probably since there aren’t the thousands of Chicago residents fleeing to them every weekend in the summer. Our B&B was quintessential small-town America, featuring bird houses, cicadas, and a bunny that came up to us on the patio at breakfast (it was really waiting for us to leave so it could resume its munching on the flower bed.)
We stayed at the jauntily named Captain’s Quarters, which had an excellent sittin’ porch and was within walking distance of—well, everything. Beach, shops, café, downtown, DQ, old-school IGA grocery store, etc. As we wanted to do without the car the entire weekend, this was perfect. As it turned out, the entire town was a mini-twilight zone in that it was a pocket of non-reception for our phones, too, which was actually nice. I also noted that according to the guestbook in our room, the previous weekend the place had hosted Marshall Crenshaw and his co-musicians. So if it's good enough for them...
Basically, we lounged the entire time, and made very limited and flexible plans (specifically to ignore). I had just gotten to the point of being too bulky to move very fast or far, which dictated a lot of lassitude. It's possible that I scandalized the vacationing beachgoers by wearing my red bikini while hugely pregnant (at least my inner youthful punk-rock self hopes so), but no one looked terribly offended.
On Friday night I was again reading our well-used copy of a Dirk Gently novel (The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul), which mentions a hosepipe at one juncture. This reminded me with a shock that as we were leaving the house I had turned on the hose in the garden to water the vegetables before we left…and I didn’t remember turning it back off. I agonized over it that night, and prepared myself for (at least) a swamp of drowned plants upon our return, but decided to not think about it while we were there. There was nothing we could do, anyway, so—might as well enjoy the weekend.
We visited all the little shops and finally settled on one (1) washable and floppy plush bear for the baby’s first “lovey.” We picnicked on fried chicken (from the IGA) at the park and got ice creams at the DQ. We sat outdoors at a café and read. We also did a lot of other reading (and in my case, napping). There was even a good squirrel-feeding stump down the block on the way to the beach, though it was the kind where you leave the peanuts and stand back. I also found the perfect doll for my "Hot Rock" sister at the dollar store...
Saturday night featured TheLimey’s 40-minute hiking quest for The Perfect Hot Dog. Or really any hot dog, once we were into it for 30 minutes. You wouldn’t think it, since the DQ was literally around the corner (visible from the B&B's back yard). Unfortunately, the lines that had formed there put him off. (Hmmm…curious, for all the times I’ve heard him brag about his superior British queuing ability.)
So we walked up the next block just to see what was there, and saw a place selling foods including hot dogs—but just a bit farther I could see there was an actual A&W. That was my suggestion, as A&W is of course the classic American hot dog. However, there had been a Blimpy’s downtown (in the complete opposite direction, naturally), that we had to check out first. (Keep in mind how slowly I had to walk, or trundle, during this entire quest.) So we turned around and headed there.
Unfortunately, when we finally got to the Blimpy's, it had been closed for hours. Therefore, we had to turn around again and head back the way we originally went. The DQ lines? Still too long. Though no doubt if we had waited initially instead of walking all over town we could have got through the lines about five or six times. But at this point, I absolutely insisted that we were going to get the dang hot dog, and he was going to eat it, and like it! So… A&W it was. To go. Sheesh.
Turns out that a Pinot is good for a hot dog eaten outdoors. (I only had a tiny bit of the Pinot, but it was nice.) While we sat out on the patio, there was a meteor that streaked overhead so closely it seemed to audibly sizzle over the trees.
Our visit also happened to coincide with the Perseid meteor showers, although we didn’t realize it at first. We saw one meteor on Friday night, and then Saturday night went out on the sea-wall to look at the Milky Way. This was a bonanza of unexpected and beautiful celestial phenomena: there was a fantastic moonrise over the lake as we approached; lots and lots of meteors; and we even saw the space station.
The drive home was--just as the drive there--pretty agonizing on my back, but I survived. And the great thing was that when we got home, the small stream we found flowing in the driveway was coming from next to the garden bed, not inside it: the stake I had used to prop up the hose sprayer head had apparently keeled over as soon as the ground had gotten wet, and the sprayer fell onto the pavement. I felt guilty about the water waste, of course, but at least the plants were undrowned.
The water source in the heat had attracted a very small and cute toad, which I removed to a more vegetative area of the yard. (For those of you who've never had another person living in your abdomen, here's a comparison: its little wigglings inside my hand felt just like the baby feels wiggling in my belly, only smaller, of course.)
Since a lot of B&Bs don't really cater to children (for some reason!), I think it was a pretty good job we did this again while we still could.
Monday, September 04, 2006
37 Weeks and Counting
I already put this on my pregger blog, but I figure it can go here, too. (That weird date is just something with the photographer's camera; it's not a previous secret child!)
In a few days it'll be considered full-term (38 weeks) and it could really be any time thereafter, though the average (non-induced) birth is at 41 weeks. I guess we'll see.
Anyway, that's most of what I've been doing, though I have a couple updates to add when I can spare some time from updating and entering my data.
I'm trying (trying) to get that all done this week, as this is really the 11th hour and 59th minute at this point...oh, except for that text entry stuff, which I now despair of ever getting done, let alone analyzed.
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