Undercover Cat March 30, 2010

I’m probably the sneakiest gal in all of the world.  Last night I snuck into the laundry room while Lance was in our room to prepare the evidence.  Here it is:

Evidence: One innocent green feline collar

Yes, a collar with a name tag I had made for Majesty Bob with my phone number on it.  I’m not going to point it out to Lance.  I’m going to let Lance figure it out on his own.  He fed him last night and this morning and he hasn’t noticed yet.  I’m not sure how he’s missed it, although to be fair, Majesty’s jowls cover up a lot of it.  I will say though his collar is a radiant green with silver leaf reflectors on it.  I had to get a tag that’s a big dog bone because the only other option was a big purple heart or a tiny pink one.  I couldn’t strip him of his manhood.  I can’t put a big girly heart tag on a poor homeless boy cat.  I think he looks dashing in his collar.  I actually even think the dog bone portrays his tough and wild side.  As much fun as I had giving him a collar, I am a bit afraid that some redneck farmer dude is gonna to see his collar and call me saying, “He’s his best barn cat….”  blah blah blah.  To which I would want to reply, “Oh, I couldn’t tell he was anyone’s best anything because I took him to the vet after 2 weeks of watching him get sick all to find that he had a 104 fever.  Also he smells like a jungle beast and limps a lot.  I’m sure you take good care of him though.”  I’m mad at the imaginary farmer.

Lance will be home soon so we will see if he notices his collar.  When he asks me what it is, I plan on telling him it’s a necklace and just hopes he drops it.

LOVES IT!

36 weeks! 2 Final Showers in 2 Days! March 28, 2010

36 weeks, 135 pounds, 26 days to go!

Covering My Butts March 25, 2010

When you tell someone that you are going to use “cloth” or reusable diapers, people look at you like you are a dated cavewoman who is going to fashion an underpants contraption of simple cotton and duck tape.  I realize it sounds crazy but most people don’t have a clue about reusable diapers today.  I’m pretty confident that everyone is picturing the old school cloth diapers that you fold and pin with one of those big clips that are used for baby shower decorations.  Of course, you could still go that route but they have some fancy underpants for babies these days.  Not to mention, they go on like regular diapers, velcroing, and they grow with your baby. Easy peesy lemon squeezy.

If diapers had been around for years and years and years and some more years, the diapers that would just finally be decomposing today would be the diapers disposed of in 1510!  That is an actual fact.  It takes a single diaper 500 years to decompose and when they FINALLY do, they put nasty chemicals into the earth.  Lets look at another fact, everyday 50 MILLION diapers enter the landfill!  That’s 350 million a week!  350 million diapers a week that take 500 years to breakdown??? I feel like our kids children will live on diaper piles before it’s all said and done.

I realize that not everyone wants to use reusable diapers and to each their own BUT some people aren’t using them because they don’t realize how convenient they can be.  Okay, okay, I haven’t started using them myself but I have them ready and waiting and I’m using them because I know about 4-5 moms who are using them and love them. I know one mom who has 3 all currently in reusable diapers.  Yes, they are an investment up front but by using reusable diapers, they save you tons of money in the long run.  They say that a mom of 3 will have spent 5 grand by the time all three are out of regular diapers. Holy Pants! 

The brand I’ve decided to use are G Diapers.  They are sold at Target.com, Babies R Us online and soon, in stores.  There are tons of other ways to get them but those are the two major chains everyone uses.  I registered for mine and there is no better way to get them than through a baby shower because you will have them for years to come and you didn’t have to buy them =0)

Now let me blow your reusable grown woman panties right off your body….

You can use cloth inserts on the inside of the g-pant which does involve having to wash loads.  If you go this way, it’s the most cost-effective and g diapers uses all natural materials that are 100 percent safe for the earth, your baby, and even safe to toss and they will break down easily to the earth.  Here’s the wowsers I think….g diapers are a hybrid which means you can use cloth inserts OR DISPOSABLE, FLUSHABLE inserts!!  So easy, so convenient.  You reuse the outside g pant and toss the filler.  HOW IS THIS EARTH FRIENDLY?  You are still tossing something away.  I know, I had the same question.  Now comes the blowing your panties off part.  You can flush the inserts, toss them, and yes, even compost them and plant them into your garden!  Why?  Because they completely biodegrade in 50-100 days and they are made plastic-free, chemical free, and return to the earth without any harmful effects and if you compost them, they even have lots of benefits!  You don’t compost refills with poo on them but you can compost the wets one into your garden and they will break down and nourish the garden.  Geez louise my underpants just flew clear off!

G diapers cause less irritation and diaper rash with their all natural, breathable materials and I’ve read reviews on Target etc. where moms say they are super absorbent and have less blow-outs than regular diapers.

For me, I plan on getting as many as I can and supplement with regular diapers that are chlorine-free, earth friendly brands such as Seventh Generation which I love!  Maybe we all can’t or don’t want to do reusable diapers but we can all use friendlier brands.  I guess, I know they are more expensive.  I just think, hey, I will do as much as I can, save money and be green in the meantime, and when I have to use normal diapers, I will.  I also think that  even if I use more Seventh Generation diapers than g diapers, after a while, if money is short one month, I can use my reusable ones, stress free until we have diaper cash.  I’m really excited about these diapers and the options you have with them.  I’m super encouraged at how many moms are already using some similar brand of diapers and that they love them.  I love being green and it’s something I just feel good about doing.  We can’t use diapers at these rates and with the hundreds of years it takes for them to breakdown.  Seriously, our landscape would have to be diapers one day.  But hey, if I can’t sell you on anything else, look at how cute these baby bottoms are =0)

no elemental chlorine

no perfumes

no plastic layer

no inks or dyes

no latex

no garbage, no guilt

www.gdiapers.com

Priveleged March 24, 2010

Of all the daily routines of marriage, one of them has to be the war against selfishness. After leaving our child-birth classes this past weekend, the battle commenced.

Let me start this story by saying that Lance grew-up eating every meal out as a child, Monday-Friday. This has created a monster. There is nothing more he finds pleasure in than eating out and I’m not joking. So as we are walking out of the hospital, it’s about lunchtime and he says the typical words, “Where do you want to go eat?’” To which I replied, “We just spent 200 at the grocery, lets just eat at home.” Now I’m not sure if it was him being tired, hungry, or just feeling an intense love for restaurants but it rubbed him the wrong way. To make it worse, I asked if he could run one errand with me first before going home to eat. He said, “I don’t want to run your errand if you don’t want to go out to eat. I don’t care if that’s selfish. I don’t see how you can get to do what you want to do and I can’t.”

He was right. It was selfish. I told him that I am so tired during the weeks and I do all the errands solely by myself and if he could go with me, it’d be one less thing for me to do and I wouldn’t have to do it alone. It’s not like I enjoy running errands more than he does and sometimes, it’s nice to have his help. Especially since I’m pregnant.

He drove me to my errand, begrudgingly. It wasn’t even that bad of an errand because we were picking something up for our baby which I think is fun. After that, I took the stance of apathy and went out to eat with him. We were quiet and angry up until we made it to the restaurant and we never talked about it again.

This morning was Sunday morning and it was Lance’s Sunday to preach. The neat thing about being a pastor’s wife is that your husband will tell stories about you and you’re in the front so everyone stares at you when he shares stuff to see your reaction. Luckily, nothing is personal to me. Luckily, he doesn’t have his own blog because I share on a much bigger stage than our church =0)

Usually I know what Lance is preaching about. He’ll come and bounce things off of me and sometimes he has me help him think of stories to share for application during his sermons.  This  Sunday, I didn’t know.

Fast forward to the middle of the sermon and he was talking about how it’s a privilege to serve Jesus.  It’s something we GET to do, not something we have to do.  He talked about a modern-day missionary by the name of Bernard who has spent most of life on the far edges of the earth away from the convenience of the states, from the comfort of home and utilities, from many of his loved ones.  When asked about his life and all he’s given up he says, “I never made one sacrifice.”  That’s because there is a big mindset difference between someone who looks at something as an obligation and someone who looks at something as a privilege. 

Then Lance began, “This leads me to a confession.”  Unbeknownst to me he started sharing the story about how he had acted the day before after leaving our child-birth classes.  Of course people started to look at me to see how I was going to react to whatever it was he was about to say. 

There I sat in the quiet stillness of the church with all eyes on me and there he stood in the vulnerability of exposing himself to the church from the stage.  Then they stopped looking at me.  They looked at him.  

His face turned red as finished telling how he acted the day before and his eyes welled up with tears and he began to cry with tears trickling down his face.  His voice quivered and he said, ” I remember when we first fell in love.  I didn’t HAVE to do anything.  I loved picking her up from work.  I loved running errands with her.  It was a privilege to be with the girl I loved and sometimes, after all these years, I find myself in selfishness and I forget that.  I GET to be with her.  I GET to love her.”

I could hear sniffles from around the church.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of him and I cried.  It was an intimate apology.  It was a reminder. It was my husband revealing the sincerest of love letters and regrets to me humbly in front of a crowd.  It was my husband standing before a whole church confessing that he had failed me and that he had forgotten.  Lance and I began dating almost 9 years ago.  Love changes over time into a deeper form of the date night butterflies.  But sometimes, in moments like that, it’s that glimpse into the face of who we started as that got us here to a man crying on the stage remembering the way it was to fall in love with your wife.  It is a blessing to fight for your marriage.  It’s a blessing to fail at it everyday and have the grace to remember how we should love each other.  Failing at loving each other and getting to love anew all over again is more romantic than a love unhindered.  Helping your spouse with dinner, folding his boxers, running in Walmart for groceries…on a Saturday, being a helper to your mate, supporting your spouse, taking care of them round-the-clock when they are sick, pulling weeds, turning off a basketball game at the good part or listening to your spouse read you parts from his favorite books time and time again. 

Oh the things we get to do.

Surprise Delivery 101 March 21, 2010

This Saturday Lance and I embarked on a 4-hour child birthting class at the hospital we’ll be giving birth at. We started off the trip to the hospital right by showing up just minutes before it started.

“Lance, did you bring the pillows and the blanket?”

And alas, a smile I know far too well. How this happens, I will never know. I stacked both the pillows and the blanket by the foyer where he puts his shoes on and reminded him about 5 seconds before he walked out the door. They were the only things we had to bring to class and we came with nothing. I told him when we walked in the room empty-handed I was going to awkwardly and incriminatingly point above his head just slightly behind his line of vision. Instead we laughed at my demo of what I threatened to do and walked into the class like real adults.

I leaned over his ear as we signed in, “Sure are lots of pillows and blankets…” We looked like the poor high school kids who couldn’t even bring the right items to class. I’m always wanting to reinforce everyone’s thoughts about how young and juvenile everyone thinks we are as a pregnant couple.

The class began and so did the treats. Perhaps they offered free snacks and possibly I ate an apple, a granola bar, and a rice krispy treat. Okay, 3 rice krispy treats. And a Sierra Mist.

When it came time for them to show the videos I tried to prepare Lance and coach him how to handle his shock.

“Please don’t laugh. Just don’t react no matter how awkward it looks or how “unkept” the woman from the 80′s in the video looks as she gives birth. We already forgot our pillows and blankets. They won’t let us take our baby home if we can’t pull through this.”

The videos started and we had the joy of experiencing three vaginal births, up close and personal. Nothing like seeing some strange lady birth a child and thinking to yourself on the tight shots, “You did know they were taping you today, right? And that this would be played for 28 years in hospitals. To the public. For all to see.”

Still, Lance did really well and he thought it was really no big deal to see and that he could watch me do that just fine. But then, we watched a big shot of the placenta being birthed. There wasn’t a closed mouth in the house. I think everyone laughed at the goob which is the placenta. Even the teacher who has taught these classes for 20 years just looked at us and smiled anticipating the delivery of the slab of organ that comes out after your cute baby. She herself was a labor and delivery nurse and she knew to watch our faces just as it was “showing itself”. It’s one of those things that no one should see. We should have a special fee for our obgyn’s just to go through that part. Lance said it’s like your baby was living with an alien buddy only you keep one of the two buddies and through the other away. It’s a sad day for your baby’s alien.

After videos, it came time for the relaxation techniques, pushing, and lamaze lessons. Everyone pulled out their thick, cushy blankets from home with their nice pillows and Lance and I laughed as we spread out our paper-thin white hospital sheet on the rock hard floor. I wallowed down to the ground with Lance helping me as graceful as an arthritic sea mammal. We laughed my whole way down. Once remarkably comfortable on a hospital pillow and sheet, your partner was instructed to squeeze uncomfortably on your achilles heel when the instructor said “contraction” and you were supposed to breathe through it. Almost every time it came time to breathe I ended up laughing because I felt so dumb doing the exercises. I couldn’t hear other girls “panting” so I wasn’t about to do loud and melodious dog breaths. The laughing was made worse by how hard Lance was pushing my heel. He was killing me! I told the instructor that he was giving me worse contractions than the others but she just laughed. Which was good because I was really mature and never stopped laughing so at least we were on the same page for a moment. Luckily, we got to switch with our partners and I gave Lance a double-handed achilles squeeze contraction.

The last thing on the agenda was pushing which the girls weren’t allowed to do because it can put you in pre-term labor. This means your man has to push. And boy do they get serious. Happily for Lance and I we chose a spot in the front of the class and he had to push by himself for the whole class first. The instructor makes the guys push for ten seconds and hold their legs up and everything. You can’t get away with fake pushing in this class. She even stood between his legs and held the legs back. Before they started I said to the teacher, “I dare you to stand there.” She just laughed and did the whole ready, set, contraction!!! Lance blew her away with his pushing. Literally. He tooted loud and proud on the teacher in front of the entire class. I knew this day would come because he’s a little light in the cheeks anyways. The entire class laughed. Lance and I laughed until we had tears streaming down our faces. The teacher laughed and while laughing said, “It doesn’t stink. Just keep going.” Lance composed himself briefly all to push again and almost immediately blast the class aloud a second time. Lance felt as if the second was even worse than the first but both were equally heard.  His pushing was done after incident number two. When the teacher made her way back up to the front of the class after all the guys had pushed I asked, “Was he the only one to “deliver”?” Proudly we can say that he was. We folded up our borrowed hospital sheets and walked out as winners.  We rode the elevator up to the nursery floor afterwards just for fun and he proceeded to silently fumegate the full elevator, as well.  He blamed it on the Raisin Bran but at that point, I think we all knew he was just showing off.

Tick Tock March 16, 2010

It’s really bizarre to know that you’re life is about to change. Is there any change bigger than adding children to your life? It has to be a bigger transition than marriage, although, similar in some ways. You know, your good days, your bad days, your wonderful times, and the times you want to kill each other but at the end of it all, it’s all worth it and you laugh and eat some cookies.

Tonight I found myself talking to Lance and having my first really big moment of “my time running out”. It’s exciting but at the same time, it’s freaking me out a little.
NOTHING about my life will be the same. NOTHING. I was talking to Lance about it and he agreed. But I said to him that some things about his life will remain untouched: his job, his body, just to name a few. His sleep patterns, no matter how tattered at the beginning ,will still be better intact than my new sleeping habits. Unless of course he grows breasts and produces milk which doesn’t totally sound like a bad idea. I might take a husband with milking boobs gratefully when the exhaustion sets in. You have to weigh the costs and benefits.

I want to be prepared for this big change but I know it’s un-preparable. I dare you to correct me, spellcheck. Live a little…..

Next week is my last week of work. I’ve worked my whole adult life. Not only have I worked, I love my job and I’m dang good at it if I do say so myself! In two weeks I will be unemployed and venturing into the world of stay-at-home moms. I can’t wait for that job but I’m feeling a streak of craziness. Rebecca will not have an employer. I will  in a sense, Eden Elizabeth INC., and I think she’ll be a merciless boss in the starting probation period of my employment there. I will no longer have deadlines, paychecks, a set work schedule, etc. That seems wild to me. Extremely foreign to me.  I’m going to get to focus on some other loves of mine once I’m home but no matter how much you love or hate your job, there’s security there.

I will no longer have weekends where you have a day to sleep in, a few days off to do as I please. I’ll have a 24/7, non-stop commitment. If it seems like I’m stating the obvious, I am. I’m just trying to wrap my mind around the impending reality.

My body will change drastically from what I’ve known it to be even if, best case scenario, it’s a temporary drastic change. I’ve always been little ole’ tiny Rebecca. When I stand up in the hospital for the first time after I  deliver and my belly thumps down and giggles Santa style, I might do like my cat when he got an IV and had a fluid pouch on his shoulder. He’d be fine just chilling on the floor and then he’d stand up and his fluid bag would sag off his shoulder and he’d run like a mad man trying to get away from it like this bulge was chasing him.

My free-time won’t be my own.  Errands I previously hated will be triple time harder.  AND, it won’t be Lance and I in the house alone again for easily more than 18 years!  Way more probably because I hope to have three to four kids.  I won’t be able to walk around my house in my skimmies, eventually at least.  I’ll have to be quiet after 8 pm at night.  The biggest thing of all, I won’t be able to blare my music.   It all seems silly when you think of what you are getting in return but riding around with loud blaring music is literally one of my favorite things.  I’m sure my parent’s probably thought it was something I fancied  as a high school kid but this love is here to stay.  It’s official, I, Rebecca, will forever loudly love rap music in my car.  I know at some point cruising to tunes will look pitiful like a forty-year old woman shopping at Forever 21 but what’s a girl supposed to do? I can’t give up on my hobbies and dreams.

A week from Saturday I will have 4 weeks til I deliver.  What do you do with only 4 weeks left with life as you know it?  Do you go on lots of dates?  Sleep constantly?  Blare your TV at 10 pm?  Go on spontaneous walks at 11 at night?  Get your bobcat neutered now because it will a long time before that will be conveinent to do?  The only one I’m totally sure of is the bobcat one.  I’ve always been a person who tries to live in the moment and take it all in but sometimes I think doing that too hard or too intentionally, steals from the moment the merit it has:  a carefree, unexpected, wonderful day that simply happened.  Focusing on “you better cherish this”  isn’t always the best policy.  Maybe the best way to enjoy my last few weeks is just to enjoy it like I have for 27 years.

Ohhh beckycat, how your life is going to change….

I know I won’t have a “job”, wear my old jeans for while, feel rested for the next 100 years, or get to bust my eardrums like I adore doing but I’m really excited for the crazy life I’m about to enter, albeit a world totally unknown to me. 

 I heard a new mother say this a few years ago, “There aren’t sick days, promotions, paychecks, vacation days, or insurance if things don’t go well. But the benefits are pretty nice.” 

I’m anxiously looking forward to fully understanding from the tips of my tired eyelids to the bottoms of my aching feet,  just exactly what that means.

live births March 14, 2010

Everyone has a right to know what they are getting into. I have wanted to see a live birth for about 8 1/2 months now and the day has come that I have found one. Many actually. I use to try to see it on youtube but I only found animal births which is not helpful at all.

There’s something about seeing someone give birth that makes me feel more prepared and in control. These are videos from babycenter.com where you can watch any process of labor from epidurals, to water births, to births of multiples, etc. Because this is a major website, this isn’t your granny’s home video. This is like an HD birth all in your face with commentary. It’s tasteful and they are about 5 minutes each. They somewhat freak me out and somewhat make me feel better. You may never wish to see one of these in your whole life and you don’t have to click on it, although, I’m pretty sure most of you will give it a try. You don’t necessarily want to see a car wreck but you can’t help watching those either. It’s the same thing. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you two videos: a live 5 minute birth and a live 5 minute c-section. Someone out there will thank me. Others, will barf.

http://www.babycenter.com/2_live-birth-epidural_10314055.bc

http://www.babycenter.com/2_live-birth-epidural_10314055.bc

33 weeks March 10, 2010

33 weeks, 132 pounds, and really tan.

I Pledge to You My Coolness March 9, 2010

I only have about 6 1/2 weeks left until I am mom.  SO, before my life changes, I pledge to you my coolness.

I pledge to you to not forget that other people in the world don’t have children.  I vow to never call you before 9 am because I realize that just because I will have been awake for 4 hours, doesn’t mean you have.  That always drove me and still drives me crazy.  Hey, I don’t have to wake-up at 6 (yet).  Let me live!  I will let you live childless people of all ages!

I vow to not put a big yellow yield sign in my car window informing you that there is in fact an infant in the car.  You will know I have a baby in the car when I yell at you through my window or when I write down your license plate number informing the police who then inform you that you drove ridiculously while the above aforementioned infant was in my car.  I will also vow to not deface my car in stickers to detail the academic status of my child.

I pledge to never put my child in a rhinestone shirt that says “Diva” on it.

I promise to disown you if you ever buy my daughter a Bratz doll.  If you buy my daughter a Bratz doll, I’ll buy your daughter a Skankz doll and that’s just not a circle we need to start.

I vow that if I don’t know you very well but ask you out of courtesy if you want to hold my child when you are admiring her,  I will never put you in the awkward situation of having to hand my baby back to me.  I always felt weird doing that.  It’s like, “Okay…I’m done with your child.  I don’t want to hold her anymore.  You didn’t offer to take them back so….here you go.”  I’ll do you one better.  I’ll never assume that everyone wants to hold my baby.  Final Answer.

I pledge to never subject you to looking at baby albums or videos.  Unless of course you choose to view them on my blog or facebook.  Then it’s all you buddy. And also, unless your name is Lance.  If your name is Lance, you have to look with me.

I vow that if you babysit my kid, I will open the garage door loudly when coming back home so that you will have a chance to put back our snacks and turn the TV off like you have been perfectly attentive all night. 

I pledge to always make you sanitize your hands before you hold my infant at the hospital no matter how contrary to the coolness pledge you think that might be.  Germs are for losers, not babies. 

I promise to get to know you really well before I pick my baby’s nose in front of you.

I vow to you, Lance, to wear less pajamas.

I pledge to do my best to prevent my kid from looking at you from underneath the stall while you do your business.

I vow that when my kid throws a fit in a store and you look at me judgementally like your kid has never had a meltdown, I will be mad at you.  Then, I’ll post it on the internet.

I promise I’ll never make my kid walk on a mall leash.

I promise to never show you my dairy factory at feeding time because just because I’ve been stripped of all modesty, doesn’t mean you’ve been stripped of your right to not see my baby groceries.  If in the event you are around and I need to nurse, you will have ample warning to evacuate or turn your head while I drape myself in a hooter hider.  Exception:  I bare no responsibility for my baby who may inadvertently pull down my modesty shield and expose my utters.  Furthermore, if I have no cloak, I cannot be held liable for a baby that turns to look at you causing you to face them square in the eye.

Nursery Extrodinaire March 7, 2010

Before I knew Eden was even going to be a girl, I dreamed of a modern, urban peacock on the wall.  I described it to my friend, he sketched, we modified, I decorated and it’s all I wanted.  Blake Parsons is a life long friend of mine and he drove 8 hours to do this for me and my little girl.  He is very gifted, will travel for jobs.  If you want his info, just let me know.  Follow this public link to my facebook album by putting it into your browser to see it =0)  It’s all I wanted.  Traditional folks beware!  This ain’t your Winnie the Pooh room!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=151536&id=610138334&l=a0dcc50ce3