Well, although this discovery happened on St. Patrick's Day, our home computer crashed and I have not been able to get online in a few days.
However, while taking a shower on the most sacred of Irish holidays, it suddenly occured to me that I can no longer see my toes. They all said this phenomenon would occur eventually, but it is still somewhat suprising when it actually occurs.
I also took pictures of this (a bird's eye view of my belly), but I can't upload them until we get our computer back. Stay tuned!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Alarm Clocks and Pregnancy Hormones
I think the universe is trying to play a cruel joke on me.
I already started having a little bit of difficulty sleeping at night, between the mandatory 2 bathroom trips and the 12 other times you have to wake up and roll over because you can feel your organs being crushed by the sheer weight of your body.
Then, yesterday morning, my alarm goes off at 5:55 am as usual. So, I reluctantly got up, went and took a shower, and then took the dogs downstairs to let them out and feed them. As I am eating my breakfast, I notice the clock on the wall says 5:25. Hmmm... strange. Then I realize the clock on the oven says 5:25, as does my cell phone and the TV. Thoroughly confused, I went back upstairs to look at the alarm clock again which says 6:25.
Now, I would also like to point out that due to Daylight Savings, it is pitch black whether it is 5 am or 6 am, so I can't tell the difference. But come to find out, our alarm clock automatically updated for Daylight Savings, except that it chose to do this 3 days late. Which forced me to get up at 4:55 a.m., which might be normal for some of you, but is definitely NOT normal or acceptable according to my standards.
I tried not to let it bother me too much, until this morning. Again, the alarm clock goes off, this time at 6:00 a.m. So again, I repeat the process of getting up, showering, taking the dogs downstairs, and yet again, clock on the wall says 5:20. Now I am thoroughly convinced I am being punished for something.
So, I do the only rational thing I can think of. Crawl back in bed, hormones in full rage, and wake up my sleeping husband. "I can't believe this happened again," I yell. "I think our alarm clock is possessed." After no response from him, I begin to talk to the dogs about how they are not allowed to make noise right now because the princess is sleeping. (In case you missed the sarcasm, I was referring to Charley.) If I am not able to sleep, I rationalize that he should not be able to sleep either.
Although I still don't think he should have slept through my crisis, I promise that the next event was not planned or in anyway retribution for his lack of sensitivity to my inability to sleep. However, when I went back downstairs to eat breakfast, I had put a glass on a blanket on the couch so I could move the dog, and inadvertently launched the glass across the living room where it shattered against the wall behind the TV. If you ever played with one of those parachute things in PE as a kid, this is exactly what it looked like. Lifting the blanket and watching the object fly.
Moral of the story is this: If I can't sleep, apparently nobody should be allowed to, and if waking you up by talking doesn't work, I will subconsciously sabotage your sleep patterns. You have been warned.
*** I feel the need to insert a disclaimer here that I have actually been relatively mellow. Even my husband says he doesn't have much to complain about comapred to the other raging hormonally charged horror stories he has heard. But then again, he is smart enough to lie to me to avoid reprocution.***
I already started having a little bit of difficulty sleeping at night, between the mandatory 2 bathroom trips and the 12 other times you have to wake up and roll over because you can feel your organs being crushed by the sheer weight of your body.
Then, yesterday morning, my alarm goes off at 5:55 am as usual. So, I reluctantly got up, went and took a shower, and then took the dogs downstairs to let them out and feed them. As I am eating my breakfast, I notice the clock on the wall says 5:25. Hmmm... strange. Then I realize the clock on the oven says 5:25, as does my cell phone and the TV. Thoroughly confused, I went back upstairs to look at the alarm clock again which says 6:25.
Now, I would also like to point out that due to Daylight Savings, it is pitch black whether it is 5 am or 6 am, so I can't tell the difference. But come to find out, our alarm clock automatically updated for Daylight Savings, except that it chose to do this 3 days late. Which forced me to get up at 4:55 a.m., which might be normal for some of you, but is definitely NOT normal or acceptable according to my standards.
I tried not to let it bother me too much, until this morning. Again, the alarm clock goes off, this time at 6:00 a.m. So again, I repeat the process of getting up, showering, taking the dogs downstairs, and yet again, clock on the wall says 5:20. Now I am thoroughly convinced I am being punished for something.
So, I do the only rational thing I can think of. Crawl back in bed, hormones in full rage, and wake up my sleeping husband. "I can't believe this happened again," I yell. "I think our alarm clock is possessed." After no response from him, I begin to talk to the dogs about how they are not allowed to make noise right now because the princess is sleeping. (In case you missed the sarcasm, I was referring to Charley.) If I am not able to sleep, I rationalize that he should not be able to sleep either.
Although I still don't think he should have slept through my crisis, I promise that the next event was not planned or in anyway retribution for his lack of sensitivity to my inability to sleep. However, when I went back downstairs to eat breakfast, I had put a glass on a blanket on the couch so I could move the dog, and inadvertently launched the glass across the living room where it shattered against the wall behind the TV. If you ever played with one of those parachute things in PE as a kid, this is exactly what it looked like. Lifting the blanket and watching the object fly.
Moral of the story is this: If I can't sleep, apparently nobody should be allowed to, and if waking you up by talking doesn't work, I will subconsciously sabotage your sleep patterns. You have been warned.
*** I feel the need to insert a disclaimer here that I have actually been relatively mellow. Even my husband says he doesn't have much to complain about comapred to the other raging hormonally charged horror stories he has heard. But then again, he is smart enough to lie to me to avoid reprocution.***
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Phases 5-7 are now complete. We spent a few hours this afternoon drawing circles and coloring them in to create this tree on the right wall of the nursery. The dresser/changing table is going to cover a little more than half way up the trunk of the tree, so there won't be that much brown.
As you can see by the pictures, everyone helped, including Gromit.
Charley also put the crib together, but we realized we can't do much more with the crib until we get a crib mattress. Details, details!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
