Happy Friday!

I started the day by puking, multiple times, all over my driveway! Granted, I hadn't eaten anything yet, but it was still oh so fun.

On a better note, I managed to drink 3 liters of water yesterday. I find if I break it up by time, it's a bit easier. I drank one in the morning by noon, one by the time I left work and one more before I went to bed. I'm supposed to drink 4 liters, buts it's so hard to drink 3 at this point, I'm just trying to build up my water drinking capacity.

And I did get some exercise in. Our kickball game last night was canceled, due to poor field conditions (basically the field was flooded from the rain earlier in the week), so Rich and I went for a long, brisk walk (long for us -- it was actually about 40 minutes). But even in the cool weather, I managed to work up a bit of a sweat, so I felt like I accomplished something.

I go in today for the ultrasound to see if I have a fibroid. Fun stuff. I'm trying to rationalize all my crappy, bloated feelings and say that every pregnancy has some difficulty. Some people have problems getting pregnant, which I obviously didn't. There are so many things that go wrong in pregnancies, and if this is as bad as it gets for me, I'll be grateful. I know a woman who has been trying to have a baby for years. She can get pregnant, no problem, but something in her body refuses to stay pregnant. I know she'd give her eye teeth to have my piddly issues. I can't continue to wallow in self-pity. I've given myself a couple of days, and now I need to focus on what I'm doing to remedy the situation. It only that was accomplished as easily as it is said.

mini emotional breakdown time

I honestly don't know how I feel about being so open about the emotional roller coaster I'm on, but I feel like it needs to come out in some way, shape or fashion. Back when I had my last doctor's appointment a few weeks back, my OB noticed some slight swelling in my fingers and said that I should be very careful about salt intake and should increase my water consumption greatly. I listened, I did, and I thought I was doing ok. Low salt wheat thins, low salt lunch meat, etc.

But, of course, yesterday at lunch (my boss's birthday) the office catered in PF Chang's. And the whole low-salt thing slipped my mind. When I went in for my appointment yesterday and stepped on the scale, I was shocked. According to the scale, I had gained 14 pounds in 3 weeks. I was reeling. I feel like I've been trying to be good, and yet, I'm obviously not trying hard enough. Even my doctor was stunned. I didn't look or feel like I had put on more than a couple of pounds. She decided that either the initial weigh in had been incorrect or that I was retaining water like a camel. And the water retention theory seems to be the popular one.

And so I got a lecture (a gentle one, but a lecture nonetheless) on exercising (vigorously) at least 5 times a week, watching my salt intake like a hawk, and drinking like a fish. And then I got the big scare: if I don't do these things, and swelling continues, I'll end up with preclampsia (which means "pre-seizure") and end up having my baby at 7 months, and he/she will be in the NICU.

I managed to get through the rest of the appointment, and into my car before I started crying. I felt like a failure. In general, I am a can-do person. I put my mind to something and I get it done. But this pregnancy has thrown me for a loop. I should be focused on the figgy baby inside, but mostly I'm thinking about how crappy I feel most of the time. I don't want to be selfish; I don't want a premature baby with health problems; I want everything to go well. I just don't feel like I'm doing a good job.

Richard is wonderful, and he's been so supportive through this. I couldn't ask for more in a husband. But sometimes I don't feel pregnant. I feel like my body has been highjacked and that the things that I want for me aren't important anymore. I have those feelings, and then I feel guilty for being selfish.

And it doesn't help that I have yet to see anything resembling anything on a sonogram. My OB thinks I may have a fibroid tumor on my uterus that is blocking the view. So I have to go in for an official ultrasound tomorrow to check that out. Fun! I guess I'm just feeling a little beaten down right now.

I'm really not writing this to try to get sympathy. I guess I just needed to get it off my chest, and sometimes, the internet is the easiest place to be very personal, in a weird way.

2nd post in one day, oh my!

By the way, I just wanted to thank everyone for their lovely thoughts and helpful hints at combating the 1st trimester suckiness. I really appreciate it. By the way, I have my doctor's appointment tonight, so I might get to hear the heartbeat! Updates to come.

Figgy pudding?

Apparently, I am fruitastically challenged, as I am the only person who doesn't know how big a fig is.

And why does everyone want to eat my baby? Wrapped in bacon? Souffle?

I've lost my mojo

It's official. I am in a crafty slump. I've lost my will to craft. Rich says to chalk it up to the general ickiness. So maybe when I hit my second trimester, I'll find my inner crafty goddess. But for now, she's gone. Taken a holiday. Maybe to Greece. And she'll come back, tan and refreshed and ready to make stuff. Until then, I'm on hiatus.

Damn pregnancy, taking my craftiness. How dare it! I'm offended.

By the way, according to BabyCenter.com, my baby is now the size of a fig. Maybe if I could visualize a fig, that would mean something to me.

Confession time

Ok, I have a confession to make. Not the "oh bless me father" kind of confession. More like a Real World video confessional. If they allowed people over thage of 29 on the Real World.

My posts of late have been a bit... sporadic. And somewhat impersonal. I've tried to chalk it up to the move, and some crazy times at work, but that's not the whole story. I've been holding onto a secret that I haven't felt comfortable sharing with the internets until now.

And the secret is... I'm pregnant. With child. A mama-to-be. I'm 11 weeks along, and let me tell you, it has been a bitch to hold this secret in. I haven't wanted to really talk about what's going on in my life to the general public until now. But now it's out in the open!

So let me start off by saying that "morning sickness" is such a misnomer. It would be so much more descriptive to say "general pukeyness that seems to last all day." This is generally a crappy time in a pregnancy: pukeyness is at its most virulent, the gradual swelling belly looks more like the remains of a big lunch than a beautiful pregnant belly, you don't need maternity clothes yet, but your regular clothes are tighter in a weird way, gas and heartburn are your constant companion, and finding a comfortable sleeping position is an almighty quest.

Oh, and let's discuss the food restrictions. No raw sushi, no blue cheese, no alcohol (duh), and no fish that are high in mercury (shark, swordfish, etc.). Add that to the pukeyness, which is enhanced by the smell of cooking meat, or discussion of certain disgusting food topics (ala a recent Iron Chef episode), and it can be hard to eat anything. And, I'm supposed to drink a GALLON of water a day. A GALLON.

I'm trying to keep my eyes on the prize. Hopefully, this general suckiness will pass soon. The second trimester is supposed to be the best and most comfortable for most women. And then, someday in mid-October, a bouncing baby will come into the picture. And life will never be the same again. And that's a good thing.

I'm a big kid now!

This whole growing up thing, which, granted, I've been doing steadily for the last 30 years, seems to have accelerated this year. We moved to a larger apartment/4-plex (ok, so we haven't bought a house yet, but you try buying one in this real estate market, especially when you paid for an expensive private college education wit student loans), we got life insurance (and one of us kicking the bucket early is the only way we're buying a house in this real estate market), and, on Saturday, we bought... a washer & dryer.

And the crowd goes wild! (at least the crowd of apartment dwellers who have to hoard quarters to do their laundry) Yes, we bought a fabulous LG front-loading washer & dryer. Energy Star compliant, low decibel, stackable dreams, baby.

That's the washer, there on the left. The dryer looks pretty much the same. So just imagine two of those babies stacked together, in my ... utility room (yes, ladies & gentlemen, I have a utility room. I'm not only grown up, I'm verging on mid-life).

They haven't been delivered yet, but, come this Saturday, I'm a laundry-doing fiend! I can't wait.

Who Are the People in Your Neighborhood?

Now that I am firmly ensconced in my new 'hood, I decided that I would venture out and head to my new local grocery. It's not a huge excursion, I just decided that instead of heading back to the old neighborhood for the Ralph's at 3rd & La Brea, I would try to Ralph's at 7th & Western.

But let me tell you, traffic... on Western... at rush hour... mmm, not so good. And then add to the fact that the grocery store shares a parking structure with the Wiltern Theater, and it was a madhouse, Jerry, a madhouse! (shout out to all the Kids in the Hall fans)

But other than the hairy parking, it was nice. I mean, I know it's a chain and all, but this Ralphs is much bigger than the old one, with a light and airy produce section, and oh so slightly different product selections. Think more Mexican/Central American-type flavors and foods (mango & pinapple Yoplait?) and less kosher. There was even a whole endcap devoted to Bimbo (think Hostess or Little Debbie of Latin America).

The only draw back was no self-check out. I get such a childish thrill by doing my own scanning (I wanna push the button!), plus I know I'm not being double charged. But, I felt like I am finally trying to make an effort to get to know the new neighborhood.

I think I'm going to like it here, even if some homeless guy decides to root through the garbage cans at 4 a.m. That's what i get for having my bedroom facing the street.

I got your stinkin' pictures right here

Ok, because some people (i.e. Grant) want to see photos of a fine apartment filled with boxes, I give you (drum roll please)... The Photo Tour of a Box-Filled Apartment!

The Living Room!

The Dining Room! (complete with turtle tank, which will be moved eventually, because I'm not sure that's really hygenic)

The beautiful Closet of Craft! A lovely walk-in that houses my sewing & yarn paraphernalia.

The Kitchen, complete with refrigerator tha we actually own!

The Bedroom (in which the bed is already unmade)

The 2nd Bedroom, which is temporarily being used as the cat room, because everywhere else is covered in boxes.

The fantastic new leather Recliner! ! 1960s vintage Ekornes "Stressless" chair in seafoam.

The fab & swinging loveseat -- Goodwill style!

I am so happy to have the new apartment, even if the act of moving and living out of boxes is stressful. I guess that's what the stress-less recliner is for. But seriously, this place makes me feel like I'm a grown-up. And yet, I want to jump up and down on the bed for joy. Discuss.

It's (almost) Spring!

Ok, so spring doesn't technically begin until March 20, but I have decided that my spring has already begun. Because, hello? Spring cleaning? It's here, baby.

As we had two fabulous movers help us out yesterday (Art & his nephew from One or Two Good Men -- scheduled from www.emove.com), Rich & I have been cleaning & packing maniacs for the last week or so. And even though our stuff (most of it anyway) is already at our lovely, if a bit loud, place, we're still not done.

Let me tell you, moving is hell. Sheer, tortured hell. Battan Death March hell. Well, maybe that's taking it a bit far, but you get my drift. Because Richard & I are pack rats, we have so much stuff that we had to move. 4 trips to the box store (who knew they had stores where they just sell boxes? Maybe if I had moved within the last 8 years, I would have known these things), a 10 p.m. box-buying excursion to Kinkos, 10 boxes purchased from UHaul, and even a little dumpster diving for some relatively clean ones, and WE STILL RAN OUT OF BOXES. I have to unpack things at the new place just so I can take the boxes back to the old place and pack still more stuff. We still need to bring over the microwave, toaster, some pots & pans, glasses, silverware, clothes, and assorted other minor crap. I hate moving. Now I remember why we stayed so long in our small one-bedroom with crappy parking. We were already there.

But, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. We actually slept at the new place last night. The cats are *slowly* warming up to the place. (Doyle refused to come out of his crate for most of the day, and when we did, we crawled up inside the box spring of our mattress. But he's out now.) So there is progress. We still have a couple days worth of clean up at the old place, and then it's on to the onerous duty of unpacking. But unpacking is definitely better than packing.

p.s. Yes, there is a new color scheme about. With Spring being sprung, I felt like I needed a new, fresh look.