Thursday, April 30, 2009

Last Class

Yesterday was, to all effects and purposes, my last day of classes. Yes, today I have Spanish, but we're mainly doing food stuff and going over what will be on the final-hardly a real class. My Friday classes all got cancelled. I got my email confirming I don't have to take my East Asia final. My papers for English are written (the hardest part) and only have to be revised. My European history test in NOT a final but simply a 4th test. Spanish is a real final but I didn't have trouble with the earlier stuff so I'm hoping it won't be too bad.

Damm took one final last night. I think the rest of his are on Monday as well. Monday will be a whirlwind day, what with our tests starting at 8 a.m. and my last one being at 4 p.m. (though that one I'm just handing in my papers). Then we're off to Outback to, well, not celebrate Damm's going off to basic. I guess it's more of a last chance dinner type thing. Then the next morning the Orclette and I will drop him off at 5 a.m. to his Srgt. and off he will go. There is a possibility of him coming home between Basic and AIT (his friends that have already done all that swear that's how it works) and he'll be asking for a weekend during AIT to come and see the new baby. And then mid-November he'll be back. Do I go over this info a lot? I feel like I do. I blame it on Mommy brain. Or Pregnancy brain, whatever it's called.

You see, I thought I'd escaped it this time. The narrowness of focus, the inability to talk about anything else other than the upcoming birth/baby/anything else connected with it. And then these last two weeks it hit me hard. Which is why some of my last few grades have not been as excellent as I want them to be. I simply cannot concentrate. Instead of memorizing verbs in the preterite form I'm going over just exactly how I'm going to take a shower with two kids. In case you're wondering, that's an easy one: take the Orclette with, put little one in his/her bouncy seat in the bathroom, securely fastened. Or this one: How am I going to take out the trash with two little ones? Answer: Put Orclette on her monkey leash (most brilliant thing ever). Put little one into the sling. Make sure I don't let the trashbag get too heavy or I won't be able to lift it into the trash can. And so on and so forth. Having difficult situations planned beforehand is what made other moms say in awe of me and the Orclette, "You make this look like it is so easy." It's not, I just planned and obsessed and made mental lists for weeks beforehand. And of course, all my plans could be thrown out the window. It all comes down to what the little one's going to be like.

You know, I think I'm trying to stall again. I got up at 5 a.m. to exercise. I should enjoy that privilege now, right? At least until I get my gym membership. The Orclette lets me exercise, but she likes to do the moves with me. Like, with me with me. Basically she gets in the way. Now, I have the mommy-patience drug/hormone currently running through my veins (there actually is something that enables new mommies to withstand the constant crying and tedium-can't remember what it's called but I read it somewhere) but that does sort of get annoying. Oh well. Once little one is born (and my mother lets me) I'll be exercising 6x/week. Ok, mebbe not at first. But we're gonna be working up to that. A nice mixture of weights, cardio, stretching .... I be daydreaming. Did I mention the gym I'm gonna join? And that I'll be dropping the Orclette (and then little one) off with grandma so I can go to that gym? All by myself? Ooops, daydreaming again.

Ok. Rats. I've run out of things to say. And my weights are looking a little lonely.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009


What do you do when both parents want to get up early and have "me-time?" You tag-team it! Damm got up at 4:30. This is also so he can get used to his basic training wake up time which will be at 2:30 our time. He figured 4:30 was close enough. I got up at 5:30, he went back to bed, and everyone's happy.

So I was perusing through my blogs and noticed a recurring theme. All the moms would recommend products that they thought were cool but that they just couldn't see splurging on for themselves. This made me sit back and evaluate.

I have no problems splurging on myself. I try really hard not to wince when Damm splurges on himself (he usually asks me after we've purchased something expensive or I've looked at our account balance and been horrified by how much we spent on sodas that week. And yes, when I'm not pregnant I'm in charge of finances-I'm better at keeping track of the day-to-day stuff). I have no qualms about spending money on the Orclette. My list of stuff to buy for little one #2 is growing.

So am I abnormal? I think it's very important for moms to spend money on themselves. Not blow out the bank, of course, but when mama ain't happy ain't nobody happy (my mom's FAVORITE saying) and who is happy when they've denied themselves the pleasure of buying something just for themselves? And of course you need to rotate the buying. Dads need cool stuff too. (I'm not mentioning the little kiddos again-I think it's a given that they'll get stuff bought for them.)

And sort of on the same topic: did you know there's a whole line of products just for your little girl's baby doll? Orclette saw them and squealed, pointed, and said her name (which means she wants it). I got her the cute little diapers since they cost almost nothing. I did buy some clothes that I thought would fit but in fact are WAY too small. Maybe I need to go back and buy her a matching doll (or just return it:). I think we'll also get the little stroller since Orclette loves pushing her "baby," her "bear," and her "babbitt" around. (My kids are going to be so spoiled.)

Sort of on the same topic ..... so I was reading the Bible one day, and I noticed that when Jesus was speaking about the poor he didn't qualify. He said you needed to help them-no matter what they look like or what they might spend the money on. I never used to give out money to beggars/homeless people. What if they go out and spend it on alcohol? or drugs? you've just enabled them. But that passage really struck me. If you speak "churchese" you'll understand what I mean when I say convicted. So we withdraw a certain amount each month and give it out. And I want my kiddos to also understand the importance of helping others. So we'll be participating in those Christmas shoebox thingies the churches always seem to do. Once Damm has a steady income we'll be sponsoring a child, most likely from Africa. And, once they're old enough, we'll volunteer at homeless shelters and the like.

I don't recount this to toot our horn. I actually don't think it's enough. But we've been going through European church history in class lately-that big debate between Luther and the Catholic Church. Luther stressed faith only, but if you're a believer good works should automatically follow. Pretty much exactly what James (author of a book in the Bible) said. And in English class we've been reading about the plight of black people in the South, which, although better, is apparently still not all sweet roses. And we've moved on to the Native Americans .....

Anyway, I've been feeling like a loud, over-privileged, too-rich and too-white American. Now don't get me wrong-I wouldn't trade my upbringing. I wouldn't change or give away the nice officer's salary that Damm's gonna make. I don't want to live outside the U.S. But I do think that we could do more as individuals (not government-mandated or anything) to help those not as fortunate.

So, that's my soapbox this morning.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Almost like her first word

The Orclette's vocabulary is ever-expanding. She knows what juice is, she knows what oranges and bananas are. She knows that saying "crackers" will obtain her some form of chip or cracker. Saying "bite" will send the adult currently watching her into a hunt for the food that will please her. But last night she said something entirely different.

"Hot. Pocket."

Did you see that? My daughter said Hot Pocket! I squealed, of course, Damm thought it was cool, and she got her Hot Pocket (Lean Pocket, actually). /sniff. So proud of my smart little baby. Who refuses to wake up this morning. Who would think that it would be me trying to wake her up? For almost a year and a half we hoped and prayed that she would sleep later than 7 a.m. And now, here she is, refusing to wake up. She obviously is her daddy's child.

Also last night. I am getting bigger. And only in the stomach area so apparently it's very noticeable. And people have no qualms about looking my way and without any other greeting saying "oh my gosh! you're so big!"

I know. You want to know how I know? Here ya go: little one keeps kicking me either in the lungs or in the bladder. Can anyone say uncomfortable? My balance is off because I'm carrying about 15 extra pounds. My feet get swollen if I stand up too long. I have to wear maternity clothes-which are very cute this year, yes, but still. I get winded walking up a flight of stairs. In about 2 months I'll have to switch to shoes I can just slip-on because I won't be able to reach my feet. My lower back aches at odd times now. If little one decides to press up against the sciatic nerve ooh watch out. Mamma in pain and mamma not be happy.

So, I know. It DOES NOT help to be reminded. I vastly prefer the kind people who said the following: "Wow, you're 6 months? But you're so little!" and "You know, you're a cute pregnant person. You never looked like you were getting fat, just like you were pregnant."

/vent turn off. I know some people love being pregnant and rejoice in every aspect. But there are those of use who just want this part to be over. So know your pregnant person before you speak. If they want comments on how big they are, go for it. If they want you to touch their stomach (totally weird) then do it. BUT if they don't, then back off and don't get hurt when they punch you. Would you comment on someone's weight or try and touch their stomach at any other time? Hopefully not. And my /vent turn off didn't work, obviously.

Ok. Time to forcibly wake up the little gorgeous princess. And offer her "bites."