the snowball in the fog

Pregnancy is really a wonderful, amazing thing. Sometimes I love nothing more than lying down and feeling little Alexander moving around inside my belly. Or watching my stomach suddenly turn into a waterbed as Alexander moves around, stretching and doing his daily aerobics. Sometimes, however, pregnancy is not so fun. Like the other day when I had a meltdown about how the house would never be clean enough to bring a baby into. I had this thought that I might as well be bringing my child home into a mud-hut surrounded by cows, chickens and goats with how disgustingly filthy I felt our house was, and how infested with spiders and other disgusting creatures it appeared at the time to be. I call this the snowball effect, and I think it's a pretty common side effect of pregnancy. See, earlier in the day I had been thinking about how much I still needed to get done, and how quickly our little owlette's due date was approaching. (as of now we have 6 weeks left, which means 3 weeks to get everything ready, since they say you should be "ready to go" by 37 weeks.) Inside I started to panic. That's 3 Saturdays to get everything done that needs to be done. And what, exactly needs to be done? Well, there's the fog. I have no idea what needs to be done, because as soon as I think of something, it gets lost in the fog of the other side effect of pregnancy: Pregnancy Brain. I'll tell myself to write down all the things I think of that need to be done as soon as they come to me, except they usually seem to break through the fog at the most inopportune time, such as when I am walking through Target, wondering what on earth I am doing there and just what I went there to buy, inevitably leaving with way more than I intended, and none of it being what I needed. (That's not so much pregnancy brain as the wonder of Target, but I like to blame a large portion of it on the foggy brain syndrome.)

Anyway, as I'm down on my hands and knees sweeping out the cabinet where we keep the trash and the dog food, it all just hits me, one tiny little thing snowballs into a bigger thing until I feel so completely overwhelmed that the mere thought of even starting a list of the things that need to be done seems far to daunting and all I want to do is curl up on the couch with a large bowl of ice cream. I'd like to say that that day was the last of the snowball effect, but with a mere 3 weeks left to get everything ready, and the fact that most days I start something and have no energy to finish it, I don't think the snowball is gone forever. And neither, sadly, is the foggy brain.

I did, however, manage to make that list of things to-do. I'm sure I've forgotten something on it though, and will remember what it is just long enough to forget to write it down.

The excitment (and the belly!) keeps growing

I have officially entered my third trimester. Well, I officially entered it a few weeks ago, but who's counting? We have finished our first of many classes on what to do with this little bundle of joy, this more recent class was on how to get the little being inside me OUT into this world, the next several will be on what to do with him once we get him home.
During several of our classes, as our teacher explained the wonders of the labor process (I'll spare you the details), she always ended saying "and then you will no longer be pregnant." I can't quite explain why, but that sentence always made me feel a little bit sad. I know, since it's been told to me many, many times, that soon I'll just want this kid OUT OF ME ALREADY, but right now, I truly enjoy being pregnant. Ok, I don't enjoy the sleepless nights or the aches and pains in my hips or the fact that it's getting harder and harder to see my feet or bend over, but really, I do enjoy being pregnant! I have wanted this for so long, and to think that in just a few short months it will all be over, makes me a little bit sad. Of course, what will come out of this pregnancy will make me incredibly happy, but still. There's a feeling of sadness there nonetheless. So, other than the things listed above, here is what I am looking forward to about no longer being pregnant (not including the bundle of joy that is soon to arrive.)

1. complete strangers no longer commenting on my pregnancy, and whether I am too small or too big, or that I have to suffer through the heat of the summer, or that I'm not carrying right to be having a boy, etc., etc. I know this will be replaced instead with them commenting on my parenting, or on how my son looks like a girl, or whatever idiotic thing strangers feel like they can say to new mothers. ***
2. MARGARITAS. I can't even begin to tell you how much I am looking forward to the salted rim of a nice tall margarita.
3. Coffee, assuming the smell no longer makes me feel incredibly nauseous. I truly hope that goes away.
4. Being able to see my feet again, although I am planning on using this as the perfect excuse to get myself a nice mani/pedi for my birthday this year.
5. Not having to pee every ten seconds.
6. Being able to eat what I want again, assuming that he's not allergic to whatever it is I feel like eating. Although knowing my eating habits, it will be largely the same that I eat now, just not as large of portions.

***seriously, what is WITH that? Why do complete strangers feel that they can say anything they want to a pregnant woman? It's like suddenly when a woman gets pregnant, all bets are off, we can comment on the way she looks with not a second thought? Really? I mean, I know that I look like I'm ready to burst any minute (or that I'm too small to be 7 months) but seriously. Did you know that pregnancy is technically a disability? It is. Would you walk up to a complete stranger with a disability and start commenting on it? "Wow dude, you're in a wheelchair. In the summer. That must stink."

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, I am growing more and more excited everyday to welcome this little being into the world. We're slowly getting the nursery together, and it's making it feel real in a different way than all those kicks and wiggles from inside my belly have. Sometimes I just walk into the nursery and look around, imagining all the joy and love that will soon be filling the room, and the house, and our lives.

Tossing and turning...

...and kicking and punching and elbowing! Baby boy Armstrong is one active little fellow. I can't say that I mind it much (yet.) Often times I find it quite comforting to know that the little one is active and moving around in there. He seems to enjoy my cravings as much as I do too, which is fun. He loves Froot Loops, my newest craving, and literally gets a kick out of my morning pop-tarts. (I promise, parents, that I am eating healthy things too, but he likes the sweet stuff!) Even as I type this, he's kicking away, high on my right side.

While his little kicks and punches are soothing now, I know that in the very near future they will probably become less soothing and more painful, but I also know that it's all a part of the joys of motherhood. They're also not quite so fun when I am tossing and turing in the middle of the night trying desperately to get some much needed rest, but luckily that also doesn't happen too much. (Yet.)

Funny little story, I was in a session with a rather tough kiddo last week and the kid began yelling quite intensely at me. Of course, my heart rate instantly went up (as did my stress level) and little baby boy started moving all over the place, kicking me! It was hard not to smile feeling the little being in my belly moving around and it really brought me back to the moment, remembering to take deep breaths and take a step back for a moment. I was able to deal with the kiddo who was yelling at me (somewhat) calmly all thanks to this little being in my belly.

Raising an owlet?

Hello everyone! Being so far away from much of my friends and family, I have decided to start a blog about all of our experiences with being first time parents and all the wonderful joys that come with pregnancy, like the fact that my belly-button is slowly disappearing, and that I get to experience heartburn on an almost nightly basis, regardless of what I eat.

So, why did we name this blog a "guide to raising an owlet?" Honestly, I have no idea. It was cute, but not too "cutesy-wootsy." I wanted to name it "Baby Steps" as I feel that Phil and I will be taking baby steps into the world of parenthood in the very near future, although the more I think about it, we will most likely be diving in, head first, covered in baby spit, but Phil said no. And since I, as you may or may not know, have a thing for owls, it just seemed to fit. There is another first time mommy out there named Molly, who is also new at this whole parenting thing, and she has four little owlets to raise, so, if she can do it. so can I. By the way, if you haven't witnessed the unbelievable cuteness that is owlets, I suggest you go, right now to

http://www.sportsmansparadiseonline.com/Live_Owl_Nest_Box_Cam.html. Although our little one won't be covered in fluffy down, I am sure he will be just as adorable, in a different way.