Ohhhh Baby. . .

Off topic, just listening to the news and this guy is accused of going around huffing freon from people's air conditioning units totaling over $2,000 worth. They found him passed out in a yard. All I can think is "Wow. What a winner." Can you imagine the desperation of a man in his late thirties, sneaking around all the neighborhood houses just waiting for his next fix from their air conditioning unit. Sad, sad, man.

Anyway- back to my original post. Like Bethaney (and very unlike Sheena, apparently) I get super anxious for baby to arrive, come the last weeks. Especially when I am having contractions on a daily basis, and it feels like he may literally fall out of me at any given moment. Perhaps I would go as far as to say I think I might be having a baby born with a full set of teeth, because it feels as if he is biting me constantly! Appropriate? Perhaps not. However, I realize I have about 7 followers all of which are female and practically family, so frankly I do not care. 

Doctor's appointment was on Monday. Indeed, my "false" contractions have been doing very real damage. I am about 2 1/2 centimeters dilated, 70% effaced, and the baby is fully engaged, meaning his head is about as low as it can go without emerging from me. (told you he was biting me!) And, hat very night, out came the mucous plug . (again, TMI?) I don't think so, considering excited daddy Chris told his Dad that. The past three days, while having contractions, I even imagine that I can hear and feel the dilation process taking place. Since I know now I am "ripened and ready" I have been doing all the things you do to speed up this process, but to no avail. These include jumping jacks (I figure, gravity, why not. . . ) running on the elliptical (for a VERY short time, considering I come back from the grocery sore beyond belief) Anyway, pretty much everything short of drinking Castor oil I am doing. And you know what? I think I might even still go late.

Speaking of my doctors appointment, I just learned I have now hit the oh-so-dreaded 70lb-weight gain mark. I try to do things, like hang onto the wall or counter while being weighed so the numbers on the scale appear substantially lower. . .but then I feel sneaky and let go. Oh, how those numbers rise. It boggles my mind, too when people see me and rant and rave about how "amazing" I look and how "you must be ALL baby!" I think to myself, "Ya, sure. If I'm having a 50pound giant baby" (ironically, with that suspect full set of teeth I mentioned before, it may just be the case!!)  That actually happened just today. After her raving about my "luck" I looked at her cross eyed and said "Hon, I have almost doubled my weight for goodness sake!" Then I showed her my feet. . .which look exactly like Cinderella's step-sisters sausages when they were shoved and squeezed into her glass slipper.
My toe-nails look great though- thanks to a wonderful mani-pedi I treated myself to a couple days ago. Chris asked if they "charged me double to do those feet" Hardy-har-har, huh?

Today. . .is NOT my day

So, I no longer am able to comment on anybody elses blog. Oh the woe!! I type up these ridiculously long comments, try to submit and it tells me "You do not have permission to comment, please sign out and sign in with another account" It has been doing it for quite some time, but until today I haven't addressed this issue. So before I write my blog, here are my comments (this is probably only half of them and not near as good as they would have been had I actually wrote them)

To Bethaney: Several things, actually. I found it hilarious about your sneezing labor scare. Loved it, really. Although I'm sure it wasn't quite as enjoyable for you. I have much more to comment on your various blogs such as your first born going to school, self improvement. But I'll just say "I felt the same way" (Tucker, school last year) and "I feel the same way"  (all this self improvement motivation) I even bought about 6 dresses that are size 3-5 because I KNOW I will fit in them eventually after this chunk of a baby comes out. I am however a good. . .  67pounds to be exact bigger than I was 9 months ago, need I remind myself.

To Sheena: I am in the same boat as you. This pregnancy has not been this wonderful, glowing time that I'll have fond memories of. My skin ripples with water, my sausage feet can't fit into my shoes, at night I have to slide myself gingerly off the foot of bed, just to step down and feel like my ligaments are being torn out of my nether regions. I have however, switched from Tums to Zantac, and that has made my nights bearable. Anyway, does babygirl have a name yet? Today is THE DAY.

To Nina: You need to get out of that black hole you call work that is bringing you down. Although I do agree that mindset changes a lot (the choice to be happy vs angry) you shouldn't have to use all your energy trying to be happy. A good work place doesn't drag a person down.

There was actually many more comments I had for Verity, and more for you guys but alas they are lost.

ANYWAY. . .
Back to my day.
Here's how it began-
3:00 a.m:
I awake from my slumber to hear knocking on my door. Groggily I slide out bed thinking "Who could this be?!!" As I walk down the hallway the knocking gets louder and more frantic. I approach the door and hear a voice screaming "Your deck is on fire!!" Without even opening the door I run to my patio. Sure enough, the flames are about 5 feet high (over the deck rails) and engulfing half of my deck. I yell "CHRIS. . .WAKE UP RIGHT NOW  "  He jumps out of bed, thank goodness. I, being bright and quick thinking, fill up a mere 18oz glass cup with water and proceed to throw it at the flames. Chris grabs this huge salad bowl and fills it. After about 15 minutes we manage (he manages) to put out the fire. Of course,Tucker is awake this whole time. What is so terrifying is that Tucker's room is right next to the deck. Had the fire gone unattended for probably twenty minutes longer the apartment would have started on fire, starting with his room. He woke up when I yelled for Chris, he said he looked out the window and thought a "meteor hit" because of all the orange. The problem was, I had 4 potted plants on the deck I had just taken down a couple days ago because they are dead due to freezing overnight. So the plants of course are extremely brittle, and the soil very dry. The people above us have a charcoal grill they were using last night. It must have started early on in the evening due to a loose ember falling down (as many do, seeing as there are about ten holes in the deck from previous instances) This time however it must have fell into the brittle leaves and ignited. All 4 potted plants were (are) pretty much disintegrated and two deck boards are burnt so bad they are gone and you can see the neighbors patio below.  Thinking back though, although I titled this "Today is nOt my day" maybe today IS my day. This could have been a very tragic day had somebody not been awake to see the fire going alert us.

6:00am-11:00am:
After laying in bed for a couple hours after the whole fire ordeal, I toss and turn trying to get comfortable. All of a sudden the most severe pain takes over my abdomen. All of a sudden, I am having very strong, and very painful contractions. I hobble in Tuckers room at 6:30 to wake him up for school, manage to get him bathed and ready and out the door by 7:30. The contractions last for about 3 minutes at a time, but they are irregular. Chris comes home at 10:00 and demands we go to the hospital. He, being in no pain at all, is SUPER excited. I let him down lightly. . .if the contractions are not consistently 3 minutes apart I will just get sent home. So apparently these contractions were just a false alarm brought on by stress most likely, although there was NOTHING false about the pain. They subsided around eleven, much to my relief and Chris's disappointment. I am however dilated to 2 1/2 cm already, which means that little man is getting ready to arrive!

3:00pm:
Tucker gets home from school.

5:30 pm:
Tucker comes inside (he had been playing outside with his friend) He is unusually quiet. After sitting silently for a few minutes he says "Mom, Gavin and I were playing a game break the rocks. We were throwing rocks at the sidewalk. I threw one and it hit a window and shattered it." Although I am more than impressed that he is being so honest, I am wondering WHAT WINDOW?!! He takes me downstairs, and of course it had to be an 8 foot tall window of our apartment building by the entrance way. Thankfully, it was tempered glass, so even though it shattered, there wasn't glass everywhere. However, on the other hand, tempered glass is EXPENSIVE. So I'm thinking the damage will be upwards of $600. Which is just exactly what we need, considering we have a baby coming any day now. I call our property management office first thing and explained the situation- haven't heard back from them yet.

Let's just say that I was very relieved when the day came to a close. Here's looking to another day!

Time to blog once again

                 So, I have been pretty lax at this whole blogging thing. I guess between being a stay at home mom with her kid in school full time I just haven't had any time at all to write- haha. Obvious sarcasm there. However, my summer was very active. I enrolled Tucker in swimming classes, art classes and some misc fun activities so that I could give him the best possible last summer as an only child possible. He is very excited to be an older brother, so it's more me being whimsical about that fact. As incredibly excited, overjoyed, thrilled, pumped, (you get the picture) to have a new little life around here, I find myself getting very emotional about the fact that very soon my life will change.
           For instance, things I now take forgranted, like Chris, Tucker and I going to a matinee on Saturday afternoon whenever we'd like or taking Tucker to Chucky Cheese on the drop of a dime and playing air hockey with him for an hour straight won't be easily possible any more. Tucker is at that awesome age where he is so independent, all I have to say is "C'mon Tuck" and he's running ahead of me, getting the elevator ready, getting himself buckled in the car and off we go. Now, even going to grocery store will be an ordeal . . .lugging the carseat around, making sure the little guy is full and content so we won't cause a scene. And of course, I would never bring a baby to a movie, because of obvious reasons. And playing airhockey with no distractions. . .not possible. 
           This sounds very selfish, and "complainy" and considering I'm carrying around a gift that some people have to spend thousands upon thousands of dollars on just to have a very small chance of this miracle, and I am somewhat ashamed of myself for feeling this way. But these are just a fraction of emotions that I am feeling. All the other feelings are simply of love for this little guy, and excitement for his arrival. They sort of started this past weekend when I looked at Chris after he got off work and said "Honey, we only have 4-6 more Saturdays before we have an infant around. We NEED to go do something right now!" He only the other hand, is so incredibly excited and doesn't feel this sense of urgency to "sow wild oats" persay that I have. He just lays there with his hand on my tummy feeling Ryker kick and says "Oh, I just want to take him out and hold him!"
        And yes, he is already named. . . "Ryker" We have had that name in mind since, probably the 4th month. And it seems once you have a name picked out, you start talking to your stomach using that name and then you are simply stuck with it. Every time I'm like "Weeeellll, maybe this (other name)  would be a cool name" it's just too weird to even try to change it. Like I told Sheena, it's almost like if I were to suddenly change Tucker's name. Just not happening. So Ryker it is, and I do love the name. I have never known a Ryker, (which I like, because then I don't have any negative emotions surrounding the name) However, strangely enough the homeowners for this huge home that Chris is building were talking to him the other day. The wife had her little 2 month old baby in her arms, and was asking Chris about our baby, and what we were to name him and he told her "Ryker" of course. He said she kind of looked shocked and said "That's our babies name!" Chris was surprised, and said he had never even heard the name before. He told me he hoped she didn't think that he had "stole" the name from her- hahaha.
          Anyway, this is kind of boring all baby post, I know. One of these days I'll be sure to have more interesting subject matter, but what can I say. . .I have babies on mah mind =)

A whole new level of weird. . .

Well, I have recently came across a couple blogs ("Hi Virginia, Hi Bet!") about strange and somewhat sinister neighbors, I decided to throw in my very own hair-raising saga of my "extraordinary" neighbor.
     
     Let's start with a vivid depiction of my humble abode.  . .  My current apartment is probably a whopping 700 square feet, mainly composed of a living room. The best part of the living room is the huge double sliding doors out to my deck. (They ARE unusually massive, strangely so really) My deck gives way to a glorious view. . . of a concrete parking lot and other brownstones. Anyway, early last winter when gazing out my window I noticed a strange fellow wearing only a t-shirt, jeans and socks getting into his van. This struck me as odd mainly because of the fact the temperature was below zero, and the ground covered with snow. I'm not particularly observant of my fellow neighbors, and though I'm sure this had been his parking spot for the whole time I've lived here, I never even noticed it. He then proceeded to wipe off a little spot on his windshield, and then just sit in his van. I could see his face peering at me through the windshield and immediately I was unnerved. For one thing, being oblivious to the outside world, I wander around my apartment in who knows what some days. Especially at night after Tuckers asleep and I can schlep around in comfy clothes i.e little shorts and a bra. So I obviously made a note to self . . ."Watch what you wear, woman!"
      
           Do you ever notice how when you buy a new car you all of a sudden see the same car EVERYWHERE? And you kind of wonder, "Where were all those cars hiding when I bought this??" When in reality, it's just that we are more aware and on the lookout for it, so we notice what we would never otherwise thought twice about. Anyway. . .that's what this was like. But the car was "him." It seemed that every time I passed my window (which was pretty frequently considering I live in a box) there he was, staring in my apt while sitting in his van. After a few weeks, it was almost "normal". . . and I just became a little more apt to close the blinds at all times not look out the window for fear of dreaded uncomfortable eye contact.
        
          Then one day, (probably a month after my first sighting) there's a "knock" "knock" on my door. Considering my apartment has controlled access, and I would have to buzz a non-tenant in, I wondered who this could be. Open the door and (surprise, surprise) there stands the peeper from the van. He looks nervous, sweaty, shifty and. . . high. I look at him, and he thrusts this picture into my hands. "I drew a picture of you," says he. Being as polite as possible I take it, thank him, and awkwardly close the door as fast as I can.

                                             Here is the picture. . . note the creepy eye/face "watching" me. Kinda odd.

Then. . . ten minutes later, comes another knock on the door. Of course, it was him again. This time he's a little bolder, still sweaty but less nervous. He introduces himself: "Ronnie Rodgers, Secret Service." And literally barges into my apartment and begins to talk. . .and talk. . .and talk. He tells his tale of being in the "C.I.A" and going to Vietnam and goes back and forth telling different stories, most of them not even remotely believable.  It's obvious to me that this man is experiencing a "manic" episode, characterized by his fast-paced manner of talking and his behavior ranging from one extreme to another.
Well, I think I received 5 visits from him that day. Thus beginning the Ronnie Rodgers saga.
              During the few couple weeks these visits became more and more frequent. Often he would knock on my door over 10 times a day (literally!). He would bring strange relics ( more pictures he'd drawn, shiny fake gems for Tucker, a polo shirt with the Secret Service logo on it, a picture of a limo with "Ronald Reagan" in it which he signed in front of me, a pair of Presidential cuff links. . . the list goes on) He left these items in front of my door if I refused to answer, and often times would stand at my door for over 10 minutes hollering my name. During this period I contacted my apartment manager who seemed to think he was harmless, and bought into his C.I.A/war stories and hence felt sorry for him. Somehow the level of the harassment I was experiencing escaped her.

                                         Here's a pic of him, just so you can visualize this whole thing
Yes, this picture is one of the many things he left at my door. I haven't even mentioned the best part. . . this man reeks of paint thinner. Not in the "I'm an artist, smell my scent" manner, but in the "I huff and puff and blow my brains aways" kind of way. When he was "high" (which was most of the time) his behavior would be so erratic, you often times couldn't comprehend what he was saying. He would sometimes seem angry, then sad. He would express his anxiety about the "helicopters" that were flying overhead, the sirens in the distance, ect. I understand that these are things that trigger PTSD, however I am fairly certain the chemicals destroying his brain were just as much to blame, if not more.
Honestly, my feelings towards him ranged from sympathetic, to fearful. I never knew quite what to think. One picture he drew in particular, reiterated my feelings of fear. This man is dangerous.

                                                       Here is the picture. . .

                                          Here is a close-up of the bookshelf in the pic. . . note the title of the 2nd book.

So one day, Ronnie comes over in the a.m, just messed up out of his mind. He is wearing a glow stick necklace, has huge earphones on (not attached to anything) a dirty t-shirt/jeans, holding a rag soaked in paint thinner to his face and he can barely speak. All he can manage is a mumble. It is apparent the man has lost whatever little brains he had left. He won't stop knocking on my door and I refuse to answer after the initial time. This stems my first call to the local police department. They tell me he has a decade long history of inhalant abuse. They come and do a "well-person check" on him. AND THEY LET HIM GO. They come to my apartment, tell me yes it's obvious that he is messed up, yada yada yada. But since it isn't ILLEGAL they can't do anything unless THEY physically see him huffing. Their advice to me? "Move. This isn't a good neighborhood" Wow. Anyway, to make a long story short I called the police on him 3 more times for similar behavior. Fact of the matter is, he was stalking me and harassing me and I was beyond the point of annoyance. I had no idea what he was going to do next, he was so erratic. I wasn't the only one in the building, as others had complained also.

So,  It took about 4 months of  my privacy being repeatedly invaded and a long conversation with the owner of the apartment building, but he was evicted and now I am Ronnie-free. Woot woot!!
                                                              ThE EnD

Now that I've wasted time cutomizing this template. . .

        So, I have always been intrigued by this whole blogging idea, however never really had time to sit around and write about my life. Until now. Actually, there are probably a hundred different things that I should be doing instead. . . like cleaning the house, bringing in empty boxes from the car and starting to pack away all Tucker's needless toys and my odds and ends. But then I tell myself "Oh, self. You have an entire month to do all the packing and cleaning."  Hence begins the cycle of justification and procrastination and from those two concepts my blog is born.
        I'll admit to hopping on the bandwagon as far as this blog is concerned. I probably wouldn't have done so if Verity, Nina and Bet hadn't begun blogging. Really I think Miss.Virginia initially sparked my interest with her singular blog entry about the bores of life in her like-named state of residence, and then Bethaney followed suit.  Ironically, Bet has actually been faithfully updating her blog on a semi-regular basic, while Nina kind of started and stopped. Probably what I'll do, all things considered, so no judgement here.
I too, lead a boring, uneventful sort of life.
        My daydreams are about as far as I have come to a vacation in many years. Yet in my heart I know I will have many a wonderful adventure. I can't wait to visit all sorts of strange and wonderful countries and places. I love the feeling of being immersed in nature, surrounded by peace and tranquility. It's such a wonderful feeling, as if time stands still. Sometimes I forget what that is like, since my days are surrounded by the noises of civility. . . car horns, people, trains, ect. Not that Fargo is some gigantic metropolis by any means, but it is a far cry from the peaceful country side. I wonder what it will be like for Tucker if we were to stay in the city. . . he'll never be able to go explore the great outdoors, which is why kids develop A.D.D, in my humble opinion. Too many restrictions. He, like most kids in my neighborhood, is confined to the cement, unable to leave a fifty foot area for fear of the many unknowns that exist in city life. "The cars go too fast on this street, don't cross the road", and "Stay where I can see you from the balcony" are sentences that frequently pass from my lips. I look back to my own childhood, and almost laugh. How often could my parents actually see us kids from the window? How many times were we away from the house for hours, off exploring the pastures or the pine grove and what not? Oh, how stifled we would have felt if we were unable to venture off more than a few feet from the house at his age.
 
    So today's thought of the day: "Move out of the city, even if it is just a few miles outside."

                                       Look at the vast beauty that is Greece. . . just breathtaking.
                                                     One of my many dream vacation destinations.