I Am So Not Cut Out For Adventure

Kevin officially graduated from Phase Two of Marine training last Tuesday...Marine Combat Training. It was my duty as the faithful wife to be there for the graduation. So I booked my hotel, packed my bags, and settled in the car for the adventure. Little did I realize, I was completely unprepared.

The ride up there actually wasn't so bad. It took about eight and a half hours. And that includes stopping every hour and a half, doctor's orders. It was a little annoying, but at least I didn't get sleepy. I got there about 6:30 on Sunday night, checked into my hotel, and settled in for a good night's rest.

I went to bed early enough that when 8:45am rolled around, I was wide awake. So I rolled out of bed, threw some clothes on, and went on a little adventure. Of course, I did have to stop at Dunkin Donuts for breakfast first :) I drove about 30 minutes to get to the closest public beach, in Surf City. I'll be honest, it was overcast, windy and cold. I was wearing jeans, sneakers, and my good coat. But I am just a sucker for the beach. So I sat there, enjoyed the scenery, which was mostly old people walking dogs, and read Eclipse for nearly two hours. I had great timing too, because the rain started as I was walking to my car.
I still had a few hours to kill, so I drove around looking for Chick-fil-a for entirely too long. Fail. I grabbed something else, sped back to the hotel, and got ready to see my husband for the first time in a month. I was running late by this time. Only I could have an entire day to do nothing, and still end up running late. Speaking of things that could only happen to me...

I got to the base and went to go get a parking pass, which requires your driver's license, insurance and car registration...only to discover that my registration was definitely not in my car. What kind of moron doesn't keep that one valuable little piece of information in their car at all times? Apparently this kind. Great. Cue meltdown. Not only had I driven all this way, but I had brought a ton of stuff (food, civilian clothes, etc) to give to my husband. At this point, my only option was to call a cab. So I went across the street, parked at a grocery store, and proceeded to pay $6 for a cab ride for all of a mile and a half. Did I mention I was still crying at this point...that poor cab driver. She did her best to calm me down...didn't want me going into labor in her car.

By the time I finally reached my husband, I looked like a drowned rat. Not only had I cried off all of my make-up, but it was raining cats and dogs...and our only option was to walk around base. Within minutes, my socks and shoes were soaked through. I promptly informed my husband that this was the closest I ever wanted to get to being a contestant on Survivor. And that I wanted a new pair of shoes.

After all of the day's ordeals, however, it was amazing getting to finally spend a few hours with my husband. It didn't take long to discover that the guys' morale was at an all-time low. So it was great to know just how much he geniunely appreciated my visit. After five wonderful hours together, he had to report back to barracks. So I called my cab (oh, joy!).

While I was waiting, I met another wife...named Brittany...who was also staying at my hotel. So we ended up sharing the rest of our travel time/expenses. She was really sweet (a 19-year-old newlywed) and it was fun to share the experience with someone else. Especially the sucky part where we have to say goodbye again.

When we left base at 8:00, my feet were still soaked through. So after dropping Brittany back at the hotel, I used my new friend GPS to find Target...and Chick-fil-a was there too...bonus! I was very excited to find these in my size:
The next day was graduation. And it was much better than the Parris Island experience. I got to see Kevin before the ceremony, and they even let us wait with them until their buses arrived to take them away again. It was cold, but we weren't giving up one minute together.The ride home was definitely rockier than the ride there. Traveling pregnant is getting much more difficult...painful, even. It ended up taking almost an hour longer. I did stumble across this little beauty in Elizabethtown, NC:I tried to get a picture, even had my camera out the window, but then I noticed a cop sitting right across the street and decided not to chance it. In case you can't see it, that sign says Smellie Bloomers. Seriously, people are weird.

27 Weeks and Counting

Today I had my 27 week appointment to check on mine and Chase's progress. According to the Doctor, everything is looking good. Weight gain and blood pressure are within normal limits. Chase is measuring 27 weeks, right on schedule. We did a quick ultrasound, and he was moving around as usual and the amount of fluid present, along with his constant movement, indicated that everything is going well. I had been experiencing some pain in the top of my belly, but he thinks it is most likely bruising from being kicked up there. I didn't think Chase was that high up, but according to the ultrasound, there was definitely a leg up near the top of my belly. It was all a blur to me, so I'll take the Doctor's word for it. He is also giving me some more meds to take care of the nausea and vomiting that have started back up (yay!). We discussed my traveling, since Kevin is still so far away (and only going further), and I was pleased to hear that I can travel up to 35 weeks. He just wants me to stop every hour and a half to stretch for a couple minutes. That, by the way, is completely against my nature. So I'll let you know how that works out. Nothing else too exciting going on, but it's always great to know that everything is normal.

Confession...

Okay, here goes. I love TLC's "Toddlers and Tiaras." This show absolutely kills me. I think my favorite part is the realization that I was blessed with enough common sense not to put my child through this nonsense.

It is so completely fascinating, though, to watch these overzealous mothers put all of their energy (not to mention money) into these crazy pageants. Most of them are middle-aged, hideously ugly (it's my blog, and I'll say what I want), and clearly living vicariously through their daughters. I love it when they talk about being in it only for fun, when it's very obvious that the children are not enjoying themselves at all.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't have any problems with baby beauty pageants, or even mothers who have a decent grasp of reality, and truly enjoy pageants for the self-confidence and poise that it can teach their daughters. Unfortunately, those women are few and far between. But tonight's episode had a great example of the hypocrisy of it all. One mom was clearly extremely competitive. She made no bones about the fact that she wanted her daughter to win, and no expense was spared to get her daughter to the top. Her daughter, by the way, clearly did NOT want to be there. But in one part of the interview, the same mom talked about always feeling judged by other people, and nothing ever being good enough to win. What kind of message is that to send your daughter at 5 years old? Lady, may I suggest working out your issues through therapy and let your daughter go play outside, where she wants to be.

Well, enough of this rant...I have to go watch the crowning ceremony. Judge me if you will...they're not my daughters. :)

Side note - The crowning is over, and I just had to share this one satisfying little tidbit. The same mother I mentioned above proved her ignorance during crowning. Her daughter was crowned "Ambassador," and the mother was so excited and proud, gushing over what a great title she had received. Meanwhile, during her speech, they flashed to a black screen which stated that the title of Ambassador was given to the girl who sold the most ad space in the pageant program booklet. Gotta love it.

I'll Take One in Every Color

So I have to take a moment, or an entire post, to tell you about my absolute favorite Christmas present. Yes, I am well aware that Christmas was two months ago. But tonight I was thinking I'd really like to blog. And since I don't have any deep or probing thoughts to share...and I don't feel the need to vent tonight, I'll keep it nice and shallow.

I'll be honest, as much as I loved all the cute outfits for Chase and the nice things for myself, this one present really takes the cake. Why? Because it has to do with sleep. Allow me to elaborate. Awhile ago, I read a post on one of my college friend, Amy Beth's blog about a pillow that changed her life...or at least her sleeping habits. Long story short, a friend had given her a pregnancy pillow and it was currently cuddling her to sleep at night. She compared it to cuddling with a man, and I am here to tell you Amy Beth, although it is not the same, it does a pretty good job as a pinch-hitter.

Does this beloved pillow have a name, you ask? Why, certainly. His name is Snoogle. Of course it's Snoogle...because only something designed solely for a woman could have such a ridiculous name and still fly off the shelves.

Well let me tell you about my friend, Snoogle. He is the best thing to happen to my bed since my husband left on October 18th. (Yes, the Snoogle is a man...otherwise the way we cuddle would just be creepy). He's a giant C-shaped pillow that spoons to perfection. He's perfect for resting your head, supporting your back, and is big enough to place between your knees and ankles so they don't rub together...yuck! And although I'm not sleeping all that great what with the baby in the belly and all, I am truly convinced that it would be worse without Snoogle.
I am even thinking about starting some sort of military wives' campaign...of course I'd have to come up with a catchy title first. Or maybe we could just rename him "Deployment Buddy." Want to cuddle while you're watching tv on the couch...Snoogle is there. Tired of laying in bed alone? Snoogle is a great spooner! You get my drift.

Okay, well that's enough of my nonsense for one night. PS - 5 more days until I get to see my husband! (Before he goes off to VA Beach for another 3 months).

It's Gonna Be Worth It

I've spent quite a bit of time ranting about the woes of pregnancy in the past week. And I'll be honest, there's certainly more to come. It's hard to see past all the puking, cramps, ill-fitting clothes, etc.

However, tonight I am sitting here at my desk with the sweetest little puppy sound asleep in my lap with her head on my arm. And she has me absolutely wrapped around her little paw. Yet as sweet as that is, I know it will so much better when I'm sitting here with a little baby in my arms. I can't wait.

When is May, Again?

Wow. There is nothing like waking up at 1:00am with the aforementioned vomit mouth, only to discover that this is in fact the real deal. And getting so sick that it requires not only a good mouth scrubbing, but a hot shower before you feel comfortable enough to crawl back in your clean bed. I have never been so sick in all my 26 years combined as I have been in the past six months. Pregnancy is AWESOME. Seriously, what inspires women to put themselves through this more than once???

Stop Touching My Belly...Please?

So if you know me at all, you're probably pretty aware of the fact that I'm not exactly the sentimental, mushy-gushy type. Don't get me wrong. I love this baby growing inside of me. Every day I am amazed at how much he grows, how much stronger he gets...and how much bigger my belly gets. But don't expect to find me baby-talking to my belly anytime soon...or ever. That's just weird. And I love the fact that I am pregnant, and going to have a baby boy in May...but I am discovering that I am definitely not one of those women who just loves to be pregnant. I'm six months now, and it already feels like I've been pregnant for six years. I'm just ready for him to be grown and in my arms, and be a family. So I've decided to share with you some little treats I've experienced over the past few months.

• Hiccups. So we all get the hiccups. No big deal, right? Except that I don't get the hiccups. I just get one or two or three. And they're loud. And embarassing. This did NOT happen before I got pregnant.
• Heartburn. I've had acid reflux for years. It was always well controlled with over the counter meds, but I had to go off of them when we found out about little Chase. I was not happy. But it didn't become a major problem until the second trimester. I have never experienced heartburn of that magnitude. It didn't matter what I ate or didn't eat. I would go to bed with heartburn, wake up with heartburn, and the hours in-between were torture. The worst part was when the heartburn would lead to nausea...it's a vicious cycle.
• Double Digits. I spent the first few months so excited about when I would get a baby bump. I couldn't wait to start showing. And now that I am showing, I feel like a giant whale. Maternity jeans are impossible. I can't find any that are long enough or comfortable enough to justify spending that kind of money on. So I've conceded to buying juniors jeans (because they are super-low cut and sit below my belly) in larger sizes...double digits to be exact. It's not perfect, but it works....but I can't wait to be back in normal jeans again. Hopefully it will warm up soon so I can start wearing cute little dresses...much more comfortable and easy to find.
• Just call me Granny. I am old before my time. I still have close to four months to go, and things are getting difficult. It hurts to bend over, and putting shoes and socks on is a real treat. It works best if I cross my legs like a man, but then the laces are tied way to the side of the shoe, so I look pretty silly.
• Belly Blues. My belly changes by the day...by the hour, even. I wake up, and it is relatively small. But by the end of the day it is ginormous (the above picture was taken at about 10:00 at night, by the way). It is so weird.
  
• Personal Space. Okay, I know this is a given, but everyone rubs, touches, pats, talks to and even sings to my belly. UGH! That really, really freaks me out. How in the world do you go about telling people that? Don't they realize how rude that is before they do it???
  
• And my personal favorite, a little treat I like to refer to as Vomit Mouth. Yes, it is as disgusting as it sounds. (Feel free to tune out now if you're squeamish) Food doesn't make its way into my stomach and settle there as it used to. Now, quite often, it remains in my esophagus very high up...definitely ruins any notions of dessert. It's annoying, but not really a problem until bedtime. Several times I week, I wake up just seconds away from tossing my cookies, to vomit...in the back of my throat. Not only does it wake me up, but it can keep me up for hours. Awful.

Sorry if any of this was too graphic or revealing. I'm sure I'll think of something I forgot as soon as I hit "publish," but this is my list for now. Here's to hoping winter ends quickly...I'm running out of coats that button!