Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Cottager In Training

Hi There Munchkin!



I haven't been able to write lately as our computer is pooched (that's the technical term of course!) but I have been receiving pressure from your faithful followers to update them on your development so I have taken my lunch hour at work to check in. Things continue to go very well - the price of blueberries has officially come down! Woo hoo! You may notice that you are ingesting these frequently of late, so frequently that I worry that you will come out looking like a Smurf (you may have to google 'Smurf' once you are able to read this to figure out what the heck I am talking about). Perhaps all of the ice cream that I am also eating will dilute the blue so you will still look relatively human. There is a local Pick-Your-Own blueberry patch that will be opening soon and I am waiting in eager anticipation. That being said, I will probably have to send your dad (whom I can hear outwardly groaning now) given that my belly has basically exploded these past two weeks, throwing off my balance and making me out of breath regularly. I can't imagine that a 6.5 months pregnant lady lurching all over a blueberry patch, huffing and puffing would be a pretty sight - nor would it be good for business.



You are now almost a foot long and about 2 lbs! Last week, in one week alone - you grew 1/2 an inch - in ONE WEEK! Crazy! I haven't grown a half inch since grade three ... and I basically stopped there. Your tremendous growth explains why I am tired and have gained weight (seemingly daily!). As well, I am starving ALL. OF. THE. TIME. The other day your dad and I had to stop at a gas station to purchase some lunchables (two boxes for a two hour trip), despite the fact that they had probably been sitting in that semi-broken gas station refridgerator for ages. If I hadn't stopped for something to eat the situation may have escalated to violence. Your poor poor dad. Ah well. I am not too concerned about the weight gain though, I seem to be pretty consistent with other women at the same 27.5 week stage of this 'delicate condition' (I LOVE that term! Delicate my ass :) ) I absolutely love my belly and I am always touching it or rubbing it. I realize, as I type this, that this behaviour may appear creepy ... but I really don't care (thank you hormones!). My belly, my property. Back off belly haters.



We had a bit of a scare about a week and a half ago. I actually thought that you had tired of your cushy environment and were itching to get out. Yes, I thought my water had broken and you were on your way. Your uncle Anthony and I had just finished a quick lunch at Arby's and were heading to the Jeep when 'whoosh' I thought it was go time. Your poor uncle turned white as he saw my panic-stricken face. A phone call to Telehealth confirmed that I should go to the hospital so your uncles and I picked up your dad from work and he and I headed to Windsor. For once, I was completely silent in the car - my thoughts racing as I worried about the outcome. You have a good chance of making it on 'the outside' at this stage but you would have weighed in at a teeny tiny 1.5lbs and would have been in the hospital for a very long time. I prayed to my mum and everyone else I could think of for your safety. At the hospital I was taken within minutes and in a gown with a monitor strapped to my tummy before I knew it. As it turns out, you were not on your way and instead I had just experienced one of the crazy side affects of pregnancy. (Your dad has a much funnier version ending of this story that I will not disclose to protect the innocent ... ahem, Me). Stay in there will you?!? As excited as we are to meet you, I want to ensure that there is as little time as possible between having you and bringing you home. I'm impatient like that.

This weekend you took your first trip to 'The Cottage.' The Cottage belongs to Aunt Patty and Uncle Mike and is a place where your dad and I have spent many lazy/crazy long weekends with friends and family. (Your dad more than I as The Cottage opened for good times in 1997 and I did not have my first experience until your dad I started dating in 2000). We had not planned to go this weekend but we were in London on Sunday and decided to make the 2 and 1/4 hour drive up and surprise everyone. What a great laugh! Everyone had sussed out that we might make the trip so our 'surprise' really wasn't much of one BUT we were eagerly anticipated and have a Welcome sign to show for it :). *Picture pending* Sunday night entailed gabbing, drinking (non-alcoholic for me of course!), laughing and playing Cottage Trivia around the campfire. Aunt Patty keeps a daily record of cottage life and thus made over 100 questions from the 10 year history of the cottage (ie - In what year and at what long weekend did Steve fall asleep on the flagstone around the campfire?) Yes, Steve is your dad. Yes, he imbibed a bit too much and instead of making the long trek to his bed (note - sarcasm) he lay on the stone beside the dying campfire and slept. No, it wasn't on purpose in an attempt to 'get back to nature.' The questions had us howling and revisiting the phenomenal times at The Cottage. Your dad and I were on the winning team - because we are winners and so will you be! Now, my dearest sweetest boy - you will not be able to read these journals until you are much much older and even then, I may play a little 'revisionist history' with a black marker to protect the innocent (again, ahem ... Me AND your Aunt Liz AND your Aunt Laura ...). I laughed so much at one point that tears streamed down my face and my stomach actually hurt. Sorry about that. You may have been wondering what the heck was going on. I went to bed with raccoon eyes from mascara being displaced all over my face. What a great night.

The plan is to take you to The Cottage for a few days with your Aunt Liz at the end of August providing that you and I both feel good (I really believe we will though!) and I look forward to taking a ton of pictures of your first visit from the outside.

Well babe, my lunch hour is up and I have to head back to the grind. Keep growing and stretching. We get to see you in 9 days and we can't wait.

love you lots,

Mom