Stories of life in the suburbs with Husband and our daughter Squishy and son Button!

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Wasted Green Bean

When I found out I was pregnant I was recently engaged to my best friend. We lived together in a one bedroom apartment in our home town in suburban Minneapolis. We were a five minute drive from my parents' house and from his parents' house. We are both very independent, however we consider ourselves to be family oriented. My fiance told me that we were always planning on having kids, it's just going to happen a little faster than we planned. That always made me feel better. Hey, doesn't that saying go "if you wait for the perfect time to have kids, then you'll never have kids"?

Certain things came to mind, for instance where were we going to put the baby when it's born? We have just enough room for us and all our crap in this 700 square foot apartment, no extra for even a diaper. And we were going to need diapers, at least, to start raising a kid. That's all you need, right? Diapers...and a toothbrush eventually. Instead of waiting until our lease was done in August (a month before I was due), we opted to transfer and sign a new lease starting in February to a bigger place. This move was planned at the end of January to a 1070 square foot place with one bedroom plus den, and the den is big enough for a 7 year old to live comfortably. It was also in the same building and the same floor as our apartment then. Score! 

Ok, living quarters, check. Next, I needed a doctor's appointment. I should mention now that I get a lot of my medical advice/knowledge from my mother. She has been a labor and delivery nurse for 25 years, is a certified expert in this field, and is looking into being a professional witness also. I wanted to ask her which doctor she wanted me to go to, trouble being that I hadn't told her yet...darn, there's always that catch, isn't there?

How to tell my mother. Hmm...I needed more tact than when I told my sister. We didn't need any tact when we told My Man's parents. They said "Congrats!" and got really excited right away. No problem. How was I going to tell my mother? I needed to tell her in the cover of darkness, or something...

At her house, cleaning green beans next to the sink (the lights were on, unfortunately). One of the dogs was sitting next to me because I must have smelled like impending baby. Ok, just blurt it out!  

Me: "So, we are moving to a bigger place at the end of the month."
Mom: "Oh, why now?"
Me: "And we are getting a room mate 35 weeks. Or so."
*drops green bean and gives me that "mom look" you know the one, picture your mother's mom look now*
Mom: "Are you f***ing kidding me?"

What follows this bit is not my mom's best moment. I'll tell you that she let me know what my options were, and pushed one over the others. This was not my plan, I told her. She stewed for a while and didn't say much. She didn't seem mad, sad, or happy. Just....there. I broke the ice by bringing up medical jargon, maybe she could give me some input. 

Me: "I have an OB appointment with Dr. Baby Catcher (to protect reputations, I won't name him)."
Mom: "Oh, no you don't. He is the worst. You are not seeing him. If I were in labor and he was my doctor I would cross my legs and go somewhere else."

We then had a conversation about hospital bureaucracy that led to me canceling my current appointment and making one with the midwives. An old family friend that has worked with my mom since college (and was present at my birth) was the head of the certified nurse midwives at the hospital where my mom works. Choice made. 

I told my dad straight out when he got home from work and he said "I'm going to be a grandpa by the time I'm 50. When can I start buying diapers?"

At this time my weekly checklist was almost complete. The families, bosses, and friends know I'm expecting. We have an apartment to move in to; I have a midwife appointment; I'm already engaged so there isn't a fear of My Man ditching (there wasn't any to begin with, but the huge rock on my finger helped.) 

And I felt great! I wasn't sick at all! 
You know when you say something and you forget to knock on wood? Puke is in my VERY near future...gross.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Keep the Date in Mind

December 6th, 2009 inside my head: Yes! I'm totally engaged! My ring is beautiful! Everyone at work is so excited! We are going to wait for a while because we, and by we I mean I, want a big wedding with a big princess dress and all that stuff that girls dream about. I want one or two of each of the things! All the things!

Yeah, you'd hit me with a stick, too, wouldn't you? Stick, rock, umbrella, whatever you could find? Don't fret, this mood only lasted three very short weeks.

We did Christmas with my grand parents who had just redone their kitchen and we spent a good part of the trip talking about how much the remodel really opened up this kitchen. How much more room grandma had now that she finally had a big kitchen. How she was really going to hate that flat top stove cause it takes 45 minutes to boil water. She didn't believe us. Trust me, it's a year later and she's already back to the gas stove. We spent not enough time, I thought, talking about me! My engagement! My plans! All the things! I was excited. 

The only thing that sucked about the Christmas trip is that I was scheduled to get my monthly visitor. But I didn't.  I thought the engagement Gods were smiling down on me and letting me have a weekend with my family without the inconvenience of the rag. It was like a little gift...

Oh, I had a little gift alright. 

By New Year's I knew something was up because I was taking the pill religiously. I was bloated, and my boobs hurt, and I still wasn't getting my monthly friend. I wasn't scared to tell My Man. 

Me: "I'll take a test to confirm it, but I'm knocked up."
My Man: "We're gonna keep it?"
I nodded. 

As I mentioned in my first post, the stick did not turn blue. In this high tech year of 2010, I had purchased a digital read out test. The stick said PREGNANT. 

My Man: "Well, we can't change it, so we might as well get excited." (Another reason to adore him).

I would like to tell you how we told the families now, but I need to give you a reason to come back and read more of my fabulous posts. Since you don't know what I look like (yet), you can't say you come back for my stunning beauty. I'd like to think you do.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

"Yes! Now ask me again!"

After living with My Man for a while, we started talking about getting married. We had gotten the hang of being in a relationship and being best friends with each other. I was proud of the fact that we had made it this far and had pretty level heads. I kept saying things like "Finally." It had been a tough road to get to where we were, and while I would go through all of it again to have him, it did leave us both with some emotional baggage.

I know I had to get over a few things from our past that always ALWAYS ALWAYS seemed petty and stupid. Will the psycho-ex come back and steal him away? Will he think that I'm not worth it and go back to her? Will my family draw the line somewhere and not accept him because of our rocky past? All of these thoughts and more seemed to find my brain, creep quietly to a corner, take root, and camp out there for days at a time. Bless My Man for having the following three things: he never yells, calm caring voice and body language, and a Psychology minor. Every time one of these things came up, I would get upset for no reason whatsoever (which is three words, but when you are saying them together it's one, and he would calm me down. He never escalated drama. He would remind me that we have made a commitment to each other, this is an adult relationship, and that I was worth it. Oh my gosh, aren't you falling in love with him already?

He's also a man that does research. I think he gets that from his dad, but maybe not to the same extreme. I still think he wouldn't admit it. He'd probably say something like "I just like the interwebs." So, he asked me what kind of rings I liked. He knew about the four Cs of diamonds and the basic buzz words of ring shopping. I picked out pictures, but you really have to be in the store and get a nice ring that's too small stuck on your finger and have to have the sales associate fail with lotion and soap and resort to Windex to get it off your now swollen purple finger to really appreciate shopping for an engagement ring. (Oh, you see where this is going?)

We looked around the mall stores and a few, in my words "hoity-toity" shops that only said "No, we can't do that." When we went to Wedding Day Diamonds the girl there went through every single case with me and pulled out several rings, and I compared and narrowed it down to a top three that I loved. I was offered crackers, candy (Ring Pops, how cute is that?), and water bottles until I had exhausted my search, and my sister, who was a great sport during this whole thing.

We decided together that it was better if we waited to get engaged because of finances and social stability. However, I was getting upset because every time I went over to my parents house for a visit, my sister would bring it up. Look, if I'm not getting engaged for a while, please just stop talking about it. It's like showing a kid his birthday cake for next year a week after his birthday and then keeping it on top of the fridge and talking about it every freaking second. One, it's gonna piss the kid off. Two, it's gonna be stale when he can have it. Three, he's gonna be so numb with rage and contempt for all you people in the kitchen talking about the stupid engagement ring that I'm blue in the face....oh, sorry. I mean, the kid...and the cake. Yeah.

I went home after one of these spats and a long day of work in the need of a good cry. My Man is very supportive of good cries. I always feel better after. I was ranting up to my good cry when he cuts me off and says "I've kept the secret too well." He goes into the bedroom and turns the lights on and lights two candles. I don't know why he did this, I guess he wanted the romantic factor in there. Yeah, right next to my water bottle and basket of dirty laundry...

My Man: "There are two things you need to find. We'll play hot and cold."
I move this way.
My Man: "Cold."
I move the other way.
My Man: "Warmer."
Well, you know how the game goes.
I find an EMPTY ring box under some old jeans in the space next to his dresser. I think the anticipation was killing him because I didn't have to look for the other thing. He went into the closet and came out with my ring. Ah, it was sooooo shiny! I actually called it my shiny for a while. I know, very Gollum-esque, right. 

We were laughing and laying down on the floor at this point. 

My Man: "Will you marry me?"
Me: "Yes! Now ask me again!"

The best part was calling the two main friends and telling them. It was one in the morning on Dec 6th so the families would have to wait. The other best part was hearing the story. We don't keep secrets from each other so it was great hearing how he went and bought the ring, asked my parents for permission, hid the box, and made up this totally bogus story about how we should wait and led me on for months. Cheeky little bugger, but it worked!

Everyone was thrilled, and he was going with my family to spend Christmas up North with my grandparents. 

Watch what happens'll knock your socks off. Or at least, make your uterus expand ;)

Friday, January 21, 2011

Calm After the Storm

After two years away from My Man and all the Thing 1 drama, he sent me a message on Facebook asking for friendship again. I was reluctant, but I couldn't resist. The year long relationship that I was in collapsed almost overnight. It was just like it was every other time we started talking after a long gap, just picked up where we left off, like nothing had ever happened. Thing 1 was out of the picture, finally. I felt confident that I could have my best friend back without the psycho-ex keeping tabs on him 24/7.

Well, long story short I broke up with my boyfriend, got my old job back, and moved home. 

I went to a psychic randomly with some work friends and she told me that there were two men in my life: one here at home and one far away. She told me their initials. She said the one far away has my heart and the one at home had my mind. I asked her if it was possible for the one at home to have my heart and my mind. She said "Yes, just let him have it."

We started dating soon after that. It was horrible. We didn't know how to date each other, we were friends for crying out loud. Kissing, no thank you. We got the hang of it after awhile, laughing together all the way. After about 6 months or so, we found the perfect apartment in our home town and moved in together. He finished college, I got promoted. 

Moving right along, the next step in any middle America suburban home is to get engaged...stay tuned.