All about Kadence. . .mostly. :)

Kadence wanted to wear her teal Ariel dress today, but the skirt has a few places that needs to be sewn up before she can wear it again. So I told her that until we fixed her "green" dress, she would have to wear her purple Tinker Bell dress. She REALLY wanted her "green" dress, and didn't want to wait for me to fix it. So she went to Patrick and asked, "Daddy, can you go to work and make money so you can buy me another green dress?"Apparently, the way I move these days, that's a faster solution to the problem. Hahaha

Last night when Patrick took Kadence to the bathroom around midnight, he told her he was sorry he had been grumpy that morning, and that he couldn't stay and play with her. She told him "It's ok Daddy. You just have to be a big boy and do what Mommy tells you." Then she kissed him and told him she loved him.

This morning she crawled into bed with him and told him "I missed you."

She wanted watermelon for breakfast, but she'd already asked for and been given an apple. I told her she couldn't have anything else until her apple was gone. After she finished eating her apple, she took her bowl to Grandma Patsy to get some watermelon. Once she had her watermelon, she took her bowl back to the table, sat down, and proceeded to pray over it. "Dear Jesus, please help my watermelon have a good day. Thank you for my watermelon. In Jesus name, Amen."

Because that didn't give me enough to laugh about, a minute later she bit her tongue while she was eating, and came over insisting that I kiss it. I told her I loved her, but I wasn't kissing her tongue. She kept sticking it out and getting in my face INSISTING that I kiss it because it had a boo boo. Finally, between laughing and fending her off, I blew her tongue a kiss and convinced her that it was pretty much the same as an actual kiss to make her tongue better.

The new word being overused in our house right now is "supervised." Kadence keeps asking to play with her markers, and since I told her she can't use them without someone to supervise her, it's become her new favorite word. Grandma Patsy was sitting on the couch using the computer, and Kadence walked over to stand next to her and told her "I'm supervising you."

Flies are becoming a problem. Kadence freaks out whenever she sees one. The other night she came into our room crying hysterically, because she woke up and said there was a fly on her bed. The other day she was eating a snack, saw one flying around and started running around yelling for Daddy to "Kill it! Kill that fly before it swipes my snack!" This morning, she found one in the window (I'm pretty sure it was one Grandma had already killed), ran and got one of her shoes, and then started frantically smacking at the fly until she was sure it was dead.

I was woken up this morning by baby hiccups. I had forgotten how weird they feel. Kadence had them all the time through the last trimester. The first time this baby had them was Thursday night (the 17th) while I was trying to go to sleep. He was NOT happy about it, so it took quite awhile to get to sleep since I had to wait for him to calm down and stop jumping around whenever he hiccuped. He's had them at least once a day since then. 

According to my midwife, hiccups mean babies are getting ready to breath on their own. So hopefully that means if he comes early, his lungs will be ok. Considering his size, I'm hoping that would be the only probable health issue if he comes early. (I measured 36 cm at 34 weeks. 1 cm per week is normal.) My measurements could possibly be because of amniotic fluid level, but I choose to think it's his size due to the way he moves.

Today is our 2nd 5th wedding anniversary. I asked Patrick to bring me home some Depends for our anniversary, and my mother found that hilarious. 

I don't believe in spending money on things we don't need. Depends are on our birth supply checklist, I'd just as soon have something I really need, and since I'm not capable of going out and getting everything myself he has to do it anyway. Besides, my mother-in-law has told me several times that women should make it easy for men to get us gifts, and not make them have to guess at what to get. So I made it really easy. :)

5th anniversary is supposed to be Wood, or Silverware. . .but in this house, 5th shall be Depends. :D

34 weeks. . .3 more to go!

We had our 34 week appointment yesterday. Everything was good with the exception of one thing. I'm now 80% effaced, which is 30% more in 2 weeks. Not good. However, I haven't dilated at all, so that's very good. Unfortunately, dilation is inevitable the more effaced I become, so I'm still on modified bed rest. We're praying that we make it to 37 weeks so we can avoid health issues AND the hospital. Because of the progression, we will now be doing weekly appointments. 

I forgot to post the 33 week picture in my last blog, so here are 33 and 34. Baby's already dropped, so things are getting increasingly more difficult. I keep getting stuck getting out of bed, which is rather amusing. Imagine a beached whale. Hahaha. . .what's even funnier is Kadence trying to pull me out of bed.

Kadence and Grandma Patsy have had a lot of quality time together. I'm just glad there's someone else to read her the same 3 stories over, and over, and over, and over. . . :D

 

We went to the pool today, since walking around in the water is the only walking I'm allowed to do, and my joints/muscles were aching from doing nothing. Kadence wanted to wear her "fishy suit," which is the one that has flotation devices built into it. It's been impossible to teach her how to swim in it, but it makes it easier to hold onto her.

The video is of her NOT jumping into the pool. . . 

 

The water was a little cold, but it was totally worth it. Kadence (as usual) didn't want to leave, despite the fact that she was shivering She and Grandma ran around the "spraying things" before we left.

We were eating breakfast yesterday, and Kadence randomly asked "Is the baby peeing in your tummy?" I told her that yes, technically he was. "Why is he peeing in your tummy!?" I told her that there was a lot of water in my tummy, he drinks some of it and then he pees it out. Since he's still in my tummy, when he pees he does it in my tummy. Her response to that was "Then he'll pee on my face! I don't want him to pee on my face! It will hurt!" I convinced her that wouldn't be an issue, but she's been fixating on him peeing in my tummy since then. Every now and then she comes up and asks me again, just to check and see if he's still doing it.

One of my friends that will be here when we have the baby is a massage therapist, and is working on her doula certification. She came over the other evening when she got off work to give me a massage. (Have I mentioned that bed rest doesn't treat me well?) After we had dinner, she set up the massage table while Kadence got ready for bed. Before Kadence would go to bed, she said she needed Felicia to massage her, so she needed "her turn" first.

Hopefully the next few weeks will go by uneventfully. . .and by uneventfully, I mean nothing outside of the ordinary insanity that goes on around here. :D

Hormones. . .gotta love 'em

It was a rather rough weekend. I'm only supposed to be having 2 BH contractions an hour. Most days it's not even that many, but every now and then it gets worse. Friday evening there was one hour I had 5, and the rest of the evening I would have 3 or 4 an hour. I was feeling a lot of tension and discomfort in my lower back and pelvis (not from the contractions), and I was pretty sure that was why I suddenly started having so many. Patrick got home from work around 10pm and massaged my back and hips, and the contractions stopped for awhile.

I didn't sleep too well that night, and Patrick has to leave at 4:30am to go back to work on Saturday. I was hoping that sleep/resting all night would have kept the contractions at bay, but pretty much as soon as I got out of bed, they started back up again. . .usually 3-4 an hour. . .and these weren't the kind of BH contractions you don't feel. Patrick usually gets off work at 2:30, and is usually home sometime between 3:30 and 4. I was really not feeling well, so I asked if he could come home early. He got home around 1:30, and massaged my back again which decreased the contractions.

I got up after about an hour to go to the bathroom, and since my pelvis was messed up I was walking funnier than normal. I don't look pregnant from behind. . .I just look bigger than normal. Patrick was behind me and said "You know, from the back with the extra weight, the way you walk makes you look like a body builder. Especially with those tan lines." (I've spent a lot of time at the pool since it opened.) Now, I knew what he meant (he actually intended it as a compliment. . .haha), but irrational, hormonal me fixated on the "extra weight" part of that statement and went the "I'm fat" route when I looked in the mirror. He could have just mentioned the way I was walking, but in true male form he had to go and mention weight too. . .

Now, keep in mind that I've had a couple of hard days. . .pain/contractions/lack of rest, etc. etc. etc. Not to mention I've been on bed rest for 2 weeks now, and I've been home by myself the last week. All of this combined tends to put me in a less than preferable frame of mind. . .which I happen to be aware of when it happens. So even though he didn't call me fat, nor didn't imply that I was fat, that's still what my subconscious decided.

Laundry needed to be done (which I'm not allowed to do), so the two shirts I normally wear around the house were both unavailable, and I wanted something more comfortable than what I had been wearing. When my clothes aren't an option, it's time to check out Patrick's. I had him give me one of his shirts that I had been able to wear up to the end of my last pregnancy. . ..it was too tight. We went through the rest of his clothes, and nothing worked. . .except for one. His favorite shirt. My least favorite shirt. Size XXL. It looks like a tent. . .one you could probably hide an elephant in.

As I slipped it on and it fell into place around my belly, I started crying uncontrollably. Patrick asked why, and I wailed "It fits!" At which point, I also started laughing. . .because despite the fact that I can't always control the roller coaster ride these hormones take me on, I'm still capable of admitting how absurdly ridiculous it is.

So there I am laughing and crying hysterically, and Patrick's holding me and trying (unsuccessfully) NOT to laugh. It was pretty pathetic, so I couldn't stop laughing. . .but my hormones were in the way, so I couldn't stop crying either. How's that for conflicting emotions? Thankfully, one of my shirts was discovered in the dryer not too long after that. It made me feel much better. :)

The situation didn't help the contractions any, so when I calmed down it was back to lying down. I had an appointment with my physical therapist set up for Monday, and I was pretty sure things would be resolved by then, so I just needed to try to stay relaxed until then. Incidentally, that got much easier once Mom and Kadence got home. Who would ever have thought that a hyper active 3 year old would have a calming effect. . .lol

Sunday things were much better. . .most likely because Kadence was home. The baby (whom Kadence has named "Cowboy" for the day) kept up a high level of activity though. Sunday, Sunday night, and today. I'm not really sure what his deal is.

"Fickable ferathy" (what Kadence calls physical therapy) was today, so things feel much better. . .and the contractions are exactly where they're supposed to be now. I'm hoping they stay that way for awhile. Our next appointment with Kathleen is on Wednesday, so hopefully all the bed rest will have worked and slowed progress. Especially since we still have 3 weeks before Cowboy can safely come out and play.

I ♥ my husband....more than Arby's :)

I realize this is my 4th post in a week, but put me on bed rest, and I have time to write. :) 

I have this thing about Arby's. I REALLY like Arby's when I'm pregnant, although I don't generally care for fast food in general. But somehow, the only times they have EVER messed up my food is when I'm pregnant. I'm a LITTLE more tolerant of mistakes made with my food under normal circumstances (emphasis on "little"), but I'm a little put off that Arby's waits to mess up my food when it's most important that they get it right. I mean seriously, how difficult is it to make a sandwich correctly?

When I was pregnant with Kadence, it involved a Roast Chicken, Bacon and Swiss sandwich. How do you make that? One should be able to assume (even if you dropped out of middle school to work there) that you would do so with roast chicken, bacon and swiss. It's in the name. How can you screw that up? Nevertheless, they left off the swiss. The second I said something, Patrick turned the car around, took it back in and had them remake it correctly. . .and they felt so bad about screwing up a pregnant woman's meal, they sent a few cookies out with him so I wouldn't be mad at them. :D

Now, Patrick isn't always so good at reading signals, but to his credit this one he only had to see once before he had it figured out. . .but it had to happen the hard way. About a week before this particular Arby's incident, we had gone to Sonic. I was feeling rather nauseous, and the food he ordered was put in the trunk of the car for him to eat once we got home. . .but not actually in the house. :) I ordered a blended Sprite float to settle my stomach, but waited until we got home (which was just around the corner) before I drank it. 

A blended Sprite float consist of 2 things. . .Sprite and soft serve ice cream blended together. Figuring out how to properly do this doesn't require a Chemistry degree. My float had Sprite, and soft serve. . .and banana. Bananas made me sick at the time, so you can guess how well that went over.

I asked Patrick to go back and have them remake it. After all, we'd already paid for it, I wanted it, and I wanted it made correctly. Here's the thing though. . .he doesn't like confrontation. In his man way of trying to make things better and keep everyone happy, he instead went to the store and bought Sprite and ice cream, thinking he'd just make me one himself. 

Ice cream you buy at the store is NOT soft serve. . .so it didn't matter how he tried to make it, the taste and consistency was never going to be right. Not to mention, the failed attempts cost us more money, when he could have just gone back to Sonic to have them fix the one we'd already paid for. The end result was a hormonal, and VERY unhappy me. 

Keep in mind that we'd only been married a year back then, we were both still figuring out the married relationship thing, I was hormonal, AND I was emotional about his impending deployment. I was so angry and upset with him, that I just refused to speak to him for hours. This was my frame of mind. I had simply asked him to go back to Sonic, and have them to correct their mistake, which he wouldn't do. So not only had he gotten me pregnant and was leaving me alone, he also didn't love me enough to go have the idiots at Sonic fix a mistake that THEY made to make me feel better. (Note, the word RATIONAL wasn't used. . . :D)

I didn't say I handled it correctly, nor can I claim to be completely sane at the time. (Honestly though, when would I ever claim that??) However, we haven't had this issue since then. 

So, this morning Mom and Kadence left to go to Abilene for a few days so Mom could take care of some things. Patrick was coming back home after he finished his last final exam before he had to go to work. He called to see if I needed him to get anything since I was going to be home alone all day. I had him stop by Arby's and bring me something so I'd have it to eat later for lunch or dinner. 

This was what was ordered: a Turkey, Bacon and Ranch Market Fresh sandwich without the bacon, onions, or tomatoes. Now, I realize that bacon is in the name of the sandwich, and I've asked them to remove that, which could possibly confuse an already incompetent person. However, this is what I got on my sandwich: turkey, cheese, lettuce (all of which is supposed to be there), SPICY MUSTARD AND MAYO. No ranch. 

I mentioned that food is an important issue when I'm pregnant right? Had they just left off the ranch, I could have lived with that, because I could have added it myself. . .but they substituted it for spicy mustard, and mayo. I don't eat mustard. I find it disgusting. . .spicy mustard especially so. 

Now I KNEW there was no way that's what Patrick ordered. . .but I called him anyway to let him know. Yes, I called just to tell him that there was mustard on my sandwich, even though he was at work and there was nothing he could do about it. He said he would stop by Arby's on his way home from work (at 11pm tonight) and get me another one. About 20 minutes later he called me back to let me know that he'd called Arby's, talked to the manager, and when he stopped by tonight they would give him the replacement sandwich free of charge, since they screwed up the other one.

I didn't ask him to do that. Honestly, I was a little surprised that he did. But that's how well my husband knows me. Even though I didn't say anything, he knows that I don't like paying for something twice, when it should have been right the first time. So he fixed it. 

I love my husband. Not only does he understand my quirks, but he goes out of his way to work with them. . .even if I don't say anything.

Edit: When he went to pick up the replacement sandwich, they also gave him a coupon for a free combo meal. . .because they screwed up. :)