Hey bud - it's dad here. I know, I know, I haven't stopped in to add to your little novela lately but that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about you or love you any less. Quite the opposite, actually. Your parents' lives are consumed with love and your much anticipated pending arrival (longest. pregnancy. ever.). I'm pretty sure your faithful followers feel you should be about 9 years old by now. I'll try to catch up on a few things for you here.
Your beautiful mum and I will be married 7 years tomorrow (7 is the 'card' gift year) and the only 'itch' is my back that constantly yearns for a good scratching. We're on our 3rd home together, 4th place as a married couple, and I have now come to realize that this lovely home we now share is no longer ours - it is yours. Yep, you're still in your mum's belly but the house is beginning to fill up with your things. Many of your things have been gifted with love by the very many folks that can't wait for you to get into this crazy world. You'll quickly learn that friends, family and love make the world go 'round. Your mum has also picked up a few things for you and, yep, so has your dear old dad. I popped into the shop on the way home from work the other day to grab some sundry items and immediately felt compelled to get you a couple more things to add to what I've already picked up for you. You now have yet another toy Jeep (mum says I have to put up a shelf in your room now), this really cool motorboat for the tub (it'll stay in the package til you're old enough for the tub) and your very first Team Canada hockey jersey. I figure next year you can wear it while we watch the World Juniors together.
We've been pretty busy lately going here and there for showers, family reunions, trips to Granny's and stop-ins to the cottage (you won't be going next year - Granny's gonna watch you while we catch up on old times :-). Your mum has been great and by all accounts you've seemed to enjoy these excursions with us. You're very, very, very active in there. At our last ultrasound we were sooooooo looking forward to getting a good photo of your tiny, growing face to see if you looked like your mum or me. You were as per usual unco-operative and in the only shot we got of you, you didn't look like either of us. You looked like Wilford Brimley. Odd. Maybe it was a playoff 'stash. Oh yeah, Sidney Crosby won his first Cup on Friday night. Your mum wouldn't let you watch...
I took the hard top and doors off your Jeep this weekend and did some booting around. You were loving it. Well, that's what I thought anyways. Your mum said you were wind-swept and napping. Whatever. It's a nice feeling as a soon-to-be dad knowing that someday I get to hand these keys over to you. Unless, of course, you decide you're not a Jeep guy and would prefer a little Honda. I'll still love you but I would be disappointed. And so would your mum. Never, ever, ever disappoint your mum.
So all in all life is good, Sean. You should be outta there in about 8 or 9 weeks (hopefully I never say that to you thru a glass panel on a corded phone). I can't tell you how excited I am Sean. Keep on doing what you're doing in there, keep enjoying the daily ice cream, and start preparing yourself for a lifetime of love and fun with your parents. See you soon, bud.
Love already,
Dad
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Good morning Sean!
I trust that you slept well though I did feel you kicking at around 4 last night/this morning as I headed for my second bathroom break. Yesterday we had a lot of activity and I am sure that you were as exhausted as I.
My cousin Mark Whitely is working in Michigan for a few weeks off and on during the summer and we were fortunate enough to have him come for a visit yesterday. He left at approximately 9 am, anticipating a 3.5 hour drive. I assumed that we would not see him until 2 or 3 given that he had never driven this route before, did NOT purchase a map and the Red Bull air races were on in Windsor thus effectively blocking the border (so I assumed). Well, at 12:30 on the nose I received a call from Mark who was a mere three blocks away. In my hand was a broom and dustpan, at my feet was a large ball of black-lab hair but more embarrassingly on my body was my pyjamas. I was wearing a pink tee shirt and Care Bear jammie bottoms. When you are over seven months pregnant it is very important that people see you at your best - face fully made up and stomach coralled into fashionable maternity pants (almost an oxymoron). I hadn't seen Mark in a year and I wanted to look fabulous for his arrival. Instead I basically saw him shudder in horror at first glance of his wild-haired, cartoon-jammie wearing, ginormous cousin. His first words were NOT 'well Cuz, you are radiant with the brilliant glow known only by a woman bringing forth life into this world,' instead they were (and I may be paraphrasing here) 'MY GOD YOU ARE HUGE!!' followed by 'I DIDN'T EXPECT YOU TO BE THIS BIG!' I burst out laughing ... on the outside. Kidding munchkin, as you know I have been very forthright in declaring how large I am/am becoming so these comments and the fact that your dad lovingly calls me 'Chunks,' don't bother me in the least. I love my belly and show it to anyone who asks (or even those who don't - ask your Uncle Anthony how many unwanted belly shots he has received as of late). I actually get offended when people don't immediately rush at my belly for a rub when they see me. Cold fish. These warm feelings may someday revert to anguish as I huff and puff on a treadmill for hours at a time trying to get this weight off, but I will cross that bridge when I come to it.
Anyways ... I eventually got ready and made myself as presentable as possible and your dad, Mark and I went to Leamington for lunch by the Marina and for a tour of your dad's greenhouse. We stopped off at your Gram's grave and Mark placed some lovely flowers which I know she would have enjoyed. Last night we had a bbq with your uncles Ant and Joe and had a quick visit with your aunt Carol while she zoomed off to work in between baseball games. Mark and Steve made plans to go out for a drink (a drink = 10, you will learn this measurement some day) while I daydreamed about my bed. I was shattered. Apparently as my tiredness increased so did my grumpiness (as pointed out by Mark) who declared that he 'had left one crabbit (Scottish for grumpy) woman at home and didn't need another.' So I dropped everyone off at the bar and headed home to tidy and crash. Your dad crawled into bed sometime around 2 smelling like and brewery and had 4 things to say (on a loop - he said each of them approximately 10 times) 1) that Mark Whitely was a great pool player 2) that Mark Whitley was a great dad 3) That they had the BEST chocolate cake at the Legion (approx. 4 pieces each) and 4) That some guy named Larry was a huge jerk. I'll have to find out the Larry story once your dad wakes up but one theme is clear - your dad has a man-crush on my cousin. I was happy that they seemed to have a good time together though I think that there will be some hurting boys in this house today.
Tomorrow your dad and I celebrate 7 years of marriage! I can't believe how fast time has flown and I guess the old adage is true 'time flies when you are having fun!' I pray that someday you will find someone who loves you as much and treats you as well as your dad does me. We've had some blissfully happy times where there was smooth sailing and some tragic and sad times that tested us but we've come through it all stronger and more in love than ever. And now we wait to welcome you and to complete our little family. I really hope that you are like your dad - funny, sensitive, sweet, laid-back, creative - he really balances me out (tendency toward the dramatic, emotional, pragmatic and bossy:). You may not be born into the richest or smartest family but you will be born into a loving family that likes to laugh. I think it evens out in the end.
Well munchkin, I am off to get a shower and get ready for Mass. Yes, you heard correctly - your mum is heading to Church! I will pray that you are safe and healthy and for your dad's soul which is up in the air at this point. (joking!)
Love you lots Sean,
Mum
I trust that you slept well though I did feel you kicking at around 4 last night/this morning as I headed for my second bathroom break. Yesterday we had a lot of activity and I am sure that you were as exhausted as I.
My cousin Mark Whitely is working in Michigan for a few weeks off and on during the summer and we were fortunate enough to have him come for a visit yesterday. He left at approximately 9 am, anticipating a 3.5 hour drive. I assumed that we would not see him until 2 or 3 given that he had never driven this route before, did NOT purchase a map and the Red Bull air races were on in Windsor thus effectively blocking the border (so I assumed). Well, at 12:30 on the nose I received a call from Mark who was a mere three blocks away. In my hand was a broom and dustpan, at my feet was a large ball of black-lab hair but more embarrassingly on my body was my pyjamas. I was wearing a pink tee shirt and Care Bear jammie bottoms. When you are over seven months pregnant it is very important that people see you at your best - face fully made up and stomach coralled into fashionable maternity pants (almost an oxymoron). I hadn't seen Mark in a year and I wanted to look fabulous for his arrival. Instead I basically saw him shudder in horror at first glance of his wild-haired, cartoon-jammie wearing, ginormous cousin. His first words were NOT 'well Cuz, you are radiant with the brilliant glow known only by a woman bringing forth life into this world,' instead they were (and I may be paraphrasing here) 'MY GOD YOU ARE HUGE!!' followed by 'I DIDN'T EXPECT YOU TO BE THIS BIG!' I burst out laughing ... on the outside. Kidding munchkin, as you know I have been very forthright in declaring how large I am/am becoming so these comments and the fact that your dad lovingly calls me 'Chunks,' don't bother me in the least. I love my belly and show it to anyone who asks (or even those who don't - ask your Uncle Anthony how many unwanted belly shots he has received as of late). I actually get offended when people don't immediately rush at my belly for a rub when they see me. Cold fish. These warm feelings may someday revert to anguish as I huff and puff on a treadmill for hours at a time trying to get this weight off, but I will cross that bridge when I come to it.
Anyways ... I eventually got ready and made myself as presentable as possible and your dad, Mark and I went to Leamington for lunch by the Marina and for a tour of your dad's greenhouse. We stopped off at your Gram's grave and Mark placed some lovely flowers which I know she would have enjoyed. Last night we had a bbq with your uncles Ant and Joe and had a quick visit with your aunt Carol while she zoomed off to work in between baseball games. Mark and Steve made plans to go out for a drink (a drink = 10, you will learn this measurement some day) while I daydreamed about my bed. I was shattered. Apparently as my tiredness increased so did my grumpiness (as pointed out by Mark) who declared that he 'had left one crabbit (Scottish for grumpy) woman at home and didn't need another.' So I dropped everyone off at the bar and headed home to tidy and crash. Your dad crawled into bed sometime around 2 smelling like and brewery and had 4 things to say (on a loop - he said each of them approximately 10 times) 1) that Mark Whitely was a great pool player 2) that Mark Whitley was a great dad 3) That they had the BEST chocolate cake at the Legion (approx. 4 pieces each) and 4) That some guy named Larry was a huge jerk. I'll have to find out the Larry story once your dad wakes up but one theme is clear - your dad has a man-crush on my cousin. I was happy that they seemed to have a good time together though I think that there will be some hurting boys in this house today.
Tomorrow your dad and I celebrate 7 years of marriage! I can't believe how fast time has flown and I guess the old adage is true 'time flies when you are having fun!' I pray that someday you will find someone who loves you as much and treats you as well as your dad does me. We've had some blissfully happy times where there was smooth sailing and some tragic and sad times that tested us but we've come through it all stronger and more in love than ever. And now we wait to welcome you and to complete our little family. I really hope that you are like your dad - funny, sensitive, sweet, laid-back, creative - he really balances me out (tendency toward the dramatic, emotional, pragmatic and bossy:). You may not be born into the richest or smartest family but you will be born into a loving family that likes to laugh. I think it evens out in the end.
Well munchkin, I am off to get a shower and get ready for Mass. Yes, you heard correctly - your mum is heading to Church! I will pray that you are safe and healthy and for your dad's soul which is up in the air at this point. (joking!)
Love you lots Sean,
Mum
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Large and In Charge!
Hello munchkin!
This post has been a looooong time coming, so long in fact that your faithful followers will feel like they've read War and Peace by the end. They will emerge from their offices bleary-eyed smelling like coffee and sweat, cursing me for having taken so long to catch them up on your (our) happenings. I, myself, have never read War and Peace but rumour has it that it is long. Apparently it has many far-reaching themes such as "the place of the individual in history; youth vs age and death; and the pros and cons of acting in conventional ways." Snooze. What it doesn't cover (unlike our little blog here) is the many pros of gigantic underwear during pregnancy, appropriate locations to take a nap (kitchen at work - no, every car ride no matter how short - yes), heartburn (more on that later) and what it is like to lose sight of ones feet. You tell me which sounds more interesting! Oh, War and Peace you say?!? Well then *huff*.
We had the opportunity to see you two weeks ago during an ultrasound and you were looking fantastic! Apparently you are already head-down in anticipation of your future journey into this world. We got a couple of fuzzy pictures of your face because in the words of the tech 'you weren't cooperating' and thus we couldn't get that perfect profile picture that it seems everyone else has of their baby. Ah well, perhaps you didn't look your best and did not feel like having a picture taken. I can relate. Anyone who has ever taken a picture of me knows better than to take a 'candid.' I need time to fluff my hair and pucker my lips in order to look my best for the shot. From what I can see, though, I think that you will look like your dad (who actually looked Asian when he was born ... ) but we are so excited to find out for sure. I asked the technician how much you weighed and she estimated a whopping 3.3 lbs! AT 29 WEEKS! At this rate you are on your way to being a large baby. I had previously thought that since your dad and I aren't especially large people (me at 5ft1 and your dad at 5ft9) we would have a small dainty doll-like baby. I am now rethinking this and am assuming that you will be a roly poly brute. I had forgotten that your dad was 8lbs9 when he was born. As long as you are healthy and arrive safely I don't care how big you are (P crosses and uncrosses legs at the thought).
This past weekend, your Aunts Liz and Laura threw a baby shower for me (you!) and we had 25 wonderful women celebrating your impending arrival. Your Aunt Carol brought the yummy (albeit a tad creepy) cake and worked her backside off to ensure that the shower ran smoothly. To these three women I am forever indebted. There was so much love in the air it was palpable. The weather was absolutely roasting, the food made by the generous hostesses was AMAZING and there was a ton of laughter. Well munchkin, you got absolutely SPOILED!! You received clothing, bath stuff, receiving blankets, a homeade quilt and fleece blanket, clothing with your name on it (I cry everytime I look at it ... this is the truth), stuffies, books, a bassinet, a playpen, toys .... I can't even mention everything that was received. You are one loved little person. Your dad was especially excited at all of the Jeep branded clothing and gifts that you received (he is Jeep-crazy and so are you by default :) - everyone really went out of their way to celebrate YOU! I got really emotional in thanking everyone (and still am in thinking about it) because I am so grateful and feel so blessed to have so many wonderful women in my life. As you can imagine, I really missed your Gram that day but I could almost see her, perched on a chair with a large glass of never-ending wine, enjoying the wonderful day.
In terms of other happenings ... there is not a lot to tell. I have recently had my first bouts of heartburn. I actually had no idea what I was feeling and instead took it for hunger pangs until I spoke with another woman who had heartburn and thought the same thing. Two tums later, I'm as good as new! I feel kind of silly mistaking heartburn for hunger because heartburn is exactly as it sounds ... a burning sensation near your heart. But as your dad always says to me 'it's a good thing that you're cute.' Because basically I'm a moron. A functioning moron, but one nonetheless. I now have Tums in my purse at all times which is making me feel like a 80 year old woman but I digress. I've also developed a large vericose vein on my left knee and my stomach is getting larger and larger, as is my face. I am sure that this has nothing to do with the three tubs of ice cream in the freezer (of different flavours) - at all. This will not go down as the most attractive period in my life but at least, overall, I feel fantastic and I have purchased some really cute outfits to drape over my rotund frame. I haven't had to move into the mumuu stage. Yet.
I am 31 weeks today munchkin!! We are now in the single-digit countdown for your arrival. I get a bit panicked when I think of everything we have yet left to do, but I also know that it will get done and we have a lot of support to get there. Your Uncle Joe is going to paint the room and your Pa is going to put on the wainscott or something similar, as well as purchase the crib for you (thanks Pa!).
Well babe, I am going to sign off for now. The post did not turn out as long as I had anticipated but I am exhausted so I need to eat and lay down (and not necessarily in that order). I plan to check in more often now that the computer is up and running.
Take care of yourself and keep on kicking - it's comforting and I like that other people can now feel it too.
Love you Sean,
Mum
This post has been a looooong time coming, so long in fact that your faithful followers will feel like they've read War and Peace by the end. They will emerge from their offices bleary-eyed smelling like coffee and sweat, cursing me for having taken so long to catch them up on your (our) happenings. I, myself, have never read War and Peace but rumour has it that it is long. Apparently it has many far-reaching themes such as "the place of the individual in history; youth vs age and death; and the pros and cons of acting in conventional ways." Snooze. What it doesn't cover (unlike our little blog here) is the many pros of gigantic underwear during pregnancy, appropriate locations to take a nap (kitchen at work - no, every car ride no matter how short - yes), heartburn (more on that later) and what it is like to lose sight of ones feet. You tell me which sounds more interesting! Oh, War and Peace you say?!? Well then *huff*.
We had the opportunity to see you two weeks ago during an ultrasound and you were looking fantastic! Apparently you are already head-down in anticipation of your future journey into this world. We got a couple of fuzzy pictures of your face because in the words of the tech 'you weren't cooperating' and thus we couldn't get that perfect profile picture that it seems everyone else has of their baby. Ah well, perhaps you didn't look your best and did not feel like having a picture taken. I can relate. Anyone who has ever taken a picture of me knows better than to take a 'candid.' I need time to fluff my hair and pucker my lips in order to look my best for the shot. From what I can see, though, I think that you will look like your dad (who actually looked Asian when he was born ... ) but we are so excited to find out for sure. I asked the technician how much you weighed and she estimated a whopping 3.3 lbs! AT 29 WEEKS! At this rate you are on your way to being a large baby. I had previously thought that since your dad and I aren't especially large people (me at 5ft1 and your dad at 5ft9) we would have a small dainty doll-like baby. I am now rethinking this and am assuming that you will be a roly poly brute. I had forgotten that your dad was 8lbs9 when he was born. As long as you are healthy and arrive safely I don't care how big you are (P crosses and uncrosses legs at the thought).
This past weekend, your Aunts Liz and Laura threw a baby shower for me (you!) and we had 25 wonderful women celebrating your impending arrival. Your Aunt Carol brought the yummy (albeit a tad creepy) cake and worked her backside off to ensure that the shower ran smoothly. To these three women I am forever indebted. There was so much love in the air it was palpable. The weather was absolutely roasting, the food made by the generous hostesses was AMAZING and there was a ton of laughter. Well munchkin, you got absolutely SPOILED!! You received clothing, bath stuff, receiving blankets, a homeade quilt and fleece blanket, clothing with your name on it (I cry everytime I look at it ... this is the truth), stuffies, books, a bassinet, a playpen, toys .... I can't even mention everything that was received. You are one loved little person. Your dad was especially excited at all of the Jeep branded clothing and gifts that you received (he is Jeep-crazy and so are you by default :) - everyone really went out of their way to celebrate YOU! I got really emotional in thanking everyone (and still am in thinking about it) because I am so grateful and feel so blessed to have so many wonderful women in my life. As you can imagine, I really missed your Gram that day but I could almost see her, perched on a chair with a large glass of never-ending wine, enjoying the wonderful day.
In terms of other happenings ... there is not a lot to tell. I have recently had my first bouts of heartburn. I actually had no idea what I was feeling and instead took it for hunger pangs until I spoke with another woman who had heartburn and thought the same thing. Two tums later, I'm as good as new! I feel kind of silly mistaking heartburn for hunger because heartburn is exactly as it sounds ... a burning sensation near your heart. But as your dad always says to me 'it's a good thing that you're cute.' Because basically I'm a moron. A functioning moron, but one nonetheless. I now have Tums in my purse at all times which is making me feel like a 80 year old woman but I digress. I've also developed a large vericose vein on my left knee and my stomach is getting larger and larger, as is my face. I am sure that this has nothing to do with the three tubs of ice cream in the freezer (of different flavours) - at all. This will not go down as the most attractive period in my life but at least, overall, I feel fantastic and I have purchased some really cute outfits to drape over my rotund frame. I haven't had to move into the mumuu stage. Yet.
I am 31 weeks today munchkin!! We are now in the single-digit countdown for your arrival. I get a bit panicked when I think of everything we have yet left to do, but I also know that it will get done and we have a lot of support to get there. Your Uncle Joe is going to paint the room and your Pa is going to put on the wainscott or something similar, as well as purchase the crib for you (thanks Pa!).
Well babe, I am going to sign off for now. The post did not turn out as long as I had anticipated but I am exhausted so I need to eat and lay down (and not necessarily in that order). I plan to check in more often now that the computer is up and running.
Take care of yourself and keep on kicking - it's comforting and I like that other people can now feel it too.
Love you Sean,
Mum
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.
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
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Blizzards and Sunshine - Together at Last!
Hi There Munchkin!
I'm just sitting here having enjoyed a lovely and warm Sunday, thinking of you. This weekend was absolutely gorgeous. That warmness that you would have felt radiating through me and the accompanying bright light is something called 'sunshine.' It has been sparse since you've been in there cooking and your Dad and I have really been missing it. My otherwise pasty skin has now taken on a rosy glow (read: burn) while your Dad turned a lovely shade of brown almost the very second that the sun hit his skin. I hope that you take on this quality and are not subjected to a series of burns while wearing SPF 30 religiously like myself. I am not sure which is doing me more detriment - the burns or all of the chemicals needed to create SPF 30, but I digress ...
Today we took the top two panels off of my Jeep in order to meet your Pa, Nikki and the family in Windsor for a lovely buffet brunch. Buffets for a pregnant woman are akin to finding a pool of water in a desert. It was heaven! There were so many delicious options but so little time (and limited stomach capacity) to enjoy. It is not socially acceptable, I've been told, to just pull up a chair at a buffet station and dig in, so I had to resign myself to various covert missions where I would pile on the food but hide some of it under bread or vegetables. 'Oh, I just wanted a touch more broccoli (cough *with another slice of lasagna underneath*cough).' I wasn't too full, however, to forgo my daily ice cream when I got home. Rituals are rituals. Like brushing one's teeth or taking a multivitamin for example. Plus you seem to enjoy the ice cream. I returned to work the other day from lunch and you were kicking up a storm so I remarked to my colleague 'The baby is incredibly active right now! He's flipping and flopping everywhere!' to which she asked (almost accusingly I must say) 'and what did HE have for lunch??' I should have lied and said 'a grilled chicken salad with dressing on the side' but I didn't. I am a horrible liar and get all splotchy and spluttery when in the midst of lying so it is just not worth it. 'A Blizzard' I replied honestly. I received a look of judgement as a result. Ah well, I refuse to feel guilty. Someday you will experience the Dairy Queen Blizzard ... mmmmm ... Blizzards .... ice cream, chocolate syrup and cut up peanut butter cups living together in perfect harmony .... OR you can have Smarties, or oreos or Skor or cookie dough or .... mmmmmmm .... It's all very very good.
Your dad was able to feel a little movement the other day, you were once again doing your thrice daily acrobatic ritual, and he put his hand on my tummy and was able to distinguish when it was actually you and not just random stomach movements. Soon enough we will get to see you move quite vividly from the outside. We can't wait! Tommorrow I got to my monthly visit with Dr. Wavy-Eyes where I will pee in a cup, get weighed and get poked and prodded. After being pregnant for awhile, none of these otherwise embarassing events phase you in the least. The reward is generally the same - getting to hear your little heartbeat!
Physically I continue to feel like a million bucks though I am generally up during the night for something or other (food, pee break) and find it difficult to get back to sleep. I am not upset about this and in fact, think that it is great practice for when you are actually here and up every two hours for the first little while. I should be an old pro by then. I *think* that I look pretty good. Your Dad always tells me how gorgeous I look and how I haven't gained weight anywhere except my tummy and bosoms - I know that he is a big fat liar (and surprisingly a good one at that!) - but I really appreciate his words of encouragement. I feel bad for him. My once-cute undergarments have now turned into industrial strength bras and granny underwear. It must take extreme self-control to not physically recoil when he walks in on me dressing. He's a trooper. On the bright side, I think that all of this heavy material from chest to thigh would save me (and you) in the case of a drive-by shooting. I have a feeling it is basically bullet-proof.
Emotionally I am all over the place. Your Dad and I are so excited to meet you and we spend hours daydreaming about what it will be like when you are finally here. We talk about what you might look like, what kind of personality you might develop, the traits that we hope you retain from each of us and the others we hope don't get passed on (i.e - my ability to lose important travel documents immediately before leaving). I am so content in this pregnancy and have been so blessed to feel so great. I (and you!) am also fortunate to be surrounded by love and support everywhere I go; work, home, with family and friends. But I miss my mom. I wish she were here to experience this time with me. Outwardly I remain positive and find myself saying things like 'I know she's taking care of us from heaven,' but it's not the same. And, quite frankly, it sucks. They say that time heals all wounds but I'm afraid that it doesn't really. Yes, some days hurt less but there are others where I feel like it is November 19th 2007 all over again. Time just allows distance from the event and the development of coping skills. So my little munchkin, I hope you understand why there are days where I laugh until my stomach hurts and moments when I cry to the same effect. I know that ultimately everything will be great and I will be fine. I also know that your arrival will bring so much happiness and excitement that this hole in my heart will begin filling. No pressure on you though! This, by all accounts, happens naturally :)
Well my dearest little boy, I am going to get going. I need to peel off these ginormous undergarments and get my jammies on, it is already 8:16pm! (Oh, I am back into the in-bed-by-9 phase).
Thinking of you always. The song below really resonates with me these days.
Love you,
Mom
From 'Blessed' by Elton John
Hey you, you're a child in my head
You haven't walked yet
Your first words have yet to be said
But I swear you'll be blessed
I know you're still just a dream
your eyes might be green
Or the bluest that I've ever seen
Anyway you'll be blessed
And you, you'll be blessed
You'll have the best
I promise you that
I'll pick a star from the sky
Pull your name from a hat
I promise you that, promise you that, promise you that
You'll be blessed
I need you before I'm too old
To have and to hold
To walk with you and watch you grow
And know that you're blessed
I'm just sitting here having enjoyed a lovely and warm Sunday, thinking of you. This weekend was absolutely gorgeous. That warmness that you would have felt radiating through me and the accompanying bright light is something called 'sunshine.' It has been sparse since you've been in there cooking and your Dad and I have really been missing it. My otherwise pasty skin has now taken on a rosy glow (read: burn) while your Dad turned a lovely shade of brown almost the very second that the sun hit his skin. I hope that you take on this quality and are not subjected to a series of burns while wearing SPF 30 religiously like myself. I am not sure which is doing me more detriment - the burns or all of the chemicals needed to create SPF 30, but I digress ...
Today we took the top two panels off of my Jeep in order to meet your Pa, Nikki and the family in Windsor for a lovely buffet brunch. Buffets for a pregnant woman are akin to finding a pool of water in a desert. It was heaven! There were so many delicious options but so little time (and limited stomach capacity) to enjoy. It is not socially acceptable, I've been told, to just pull up a chair at a buffet station and dig in, so I had to resign myself to various covert missions where I would pile on the food but hide some of it under bread or vegetables. 'Oh, I just wanted a touch more broccoli (cough *with another slice of lasagna underneath*cough).' I wasn't too full, however, to forgo my daily ice cream when I got home. Rituals are rituals. Like brushing one's teeth or taking a multivitamin for example. Plus you seem to enjoy the ice cream. I returned to work the other day from lunch and you were kicking up a storm so I remarked to my colleague 'The baby is incredibly active right now! He's flipping and flopping everywhere!' to which she asked (almost accusingly I must say) 'and what did HE have for lunch??' I should have lied and said 'a grilled chicken salad with dressing on the side' but I didn't. I am a horrible liar and get all splotchy and spluttery when in the midst of lying so it is just not worth it. 'A Blizzard' I replied honestly. I received a look of judgement as a result. Ah well, I refuse to feel guilty. Someday you will experience the Dairy Queen Blizzard ... mmmmm ... Blizzards .... ice cream, chocolate syrup and cut up peanut butter cups living together in perfect harmony .... OR you can have Smarties, or oreos or Skor or cookie dough or .... mmmmmmm .... It's all very very good.
Your dad was able to feel a little movement the other day, you were once again doing your thrice daily acrobatic ritual, and he put his hand on my tummy and was able to distinguish when it was actually you and not just random stomach movements. Soon enough we will get to see you move quite vividly from the outside. We can't wait! Tommorrow I got to my monthly visit with Dr. Wavy-Eyes where I will pee in a cup, get weighed and get poked and prodded. After being pregnant for awhile, none of these otherwise embarassing events phase you in the least. The reward is generally the same - getting to hear your little heartbeat!
Physically I continue to feel like a million bucks though I am generally up during the night for something or other (food, pee break) and find it difficult to get back to sleep. I am not upset about this and in fact, think that it is great practice for when you are actually here and up every two hours for the first little while. I should be an old pro by then. I *think* that I look pretty good. Your Dad always tells me how gorgeous I look and how I haven't gained weight anywhere except my tummy and bosoms - I know that he is a big fat liar (and surprisingly a good one at that!) - but I really appreciate his words of encouragement. I feel bad for him. My once-cute undergarments have now turned into industrial strength bras and granny underwear. It must take extreme self-control to not physically recoil when he walks in on me dressing. He's a trooper. On the bright side, I think that all of this heavy material from chest to thigh would save me (and you) in the case of a drive-by shooting. I have a feeling it is basically bullet-proof.
Emotionally I am all over the place. Your Dad and I are so excited to meet you and we spend hours daydreaming about what it will be like when you are finally here. We talk about what you might look like, what kind of personality you might develop, the traits that we hope you retain from each of us and the others we hope don't get passed on (i.e - my ability to lose important travel documents immediately before leaving). I am so content in this pregnancy and have been so blessed to feel so great. I (and you!) am also fortunate to be surrounded by love and support everywhere I go; work, home, with family and friends. But I miss my mom. I wish she were here to experience this time with me. Outwardly I remain positive and find myself saying things like 'I know she's taking care of us from heaven,' but it's not the same. And, quite frankly, it sucks. They say that time heals all wounds but I'm afraid that it doesn't really. Yes, some days hurt less but there are others where I feel like it is November 19th 2007 all over again. Time just allows distance from the event and the development of coping skills. So my little munchkin, I hope you understand why there are days where I laugh until my stomach hurts and moments when I cry to the same effect. I know that ultimately everything will be great and I will be fine. I also know that your arrival will bring so much happiness and excitement that this hole in my heart will begin filling. No pressure on you though! This, by all accounts, happens naturally :)
Well my dearest little boy, I am going to get going. I need to peel off these ginormous undergarments and get my jammies on, it is already 8:16pm! (Oh, I am back into the in-bed-by-9 phase).
Thinking of you always. The song below really resonates with me these days.
Love you,
Mom
From 'Blessed' by Elton John
Hey you, you're a child in my head
You haven't walked yet
Your first words have yet to be said
But I swear you'll be blessed
I know you're still just a dream
your eyes might be green
Or the bluest that I've ever seen
Anyway you'll be blessed
And you, you'll be blessed
You'll have the best
I promise you that
I'll pick a star from the sky
Pull your name from a hat
I promise you that, promise you that, promise you that
You'll be blessed
I need you before I'm too old
To have and to hold
To walk with you and watch you grow
And know that you're blessed
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Longest. Pregnancy. Ever.
Hey babe, how's it going in there? You alright? You're moving around a lot down there. Flipping and flopping, heads and tails, squirming about. Trying to get comfy? Your amazing mother can feel it, but I haven't yet had the chance. Not for a lack of rubbing your mum's belly, but we're a few weeks away from me getting a feel. There's a joke there, you'll get it later. Yep, it's your dear old dad here checking in.
So, my little Sean, you're my boy. Wow. You're my boy! My son! Our son, really, because your mother counts as well. She's doing all the work right now. And lets be realistic...she'll be doing most of the work for quite awhile. What with the whole 'you-getting-out-of-her-body' thing, the breast feeding, this merconium thing I learned about in the pre-Sean-atal classes, lots of stuff. As your dad I get to bypass the physical pain and discomfort of your arrival into this crazy world and get to the good stuff. Once you're out, I get to put little Chicago Bears booties on your feet (that Uncle Marc got you before the Bears made that ridiculous trade for Jay Cutler for 2 first rounders and a third and Kyle Orton...) and take you back to your future home. No matter, you'll be coming home. Home. Funny word, 'home'.
Home. Your first licks in the face from a big black lab and a crazy Cairn. Home. Your first ever bedroom. Home. Where you took your first steps. Home. Home. Home. Its a great word, funny as it sounds. Its where you're supposed to be. Home. Can't wait til you get here and all heck breaks loose.
Keep doing whatever it is you're doing in there, Sean. Its working out. Your dad is one proud guy.
Love already,
Dad
So, my little Sean, you're my boy. Wow. You're my boy! My son! Our son, really, because your mother counts as well. She's doing all the work right now. And lets be realistic...she'll be doing most of the work for quite awhile. What with the whole 'you-getting-out-of-her-body' thing, the breast feeding, this merconium thing I learned about in the pre-Sean-atal classes, lots of stuff. As your dad I get to bypass the physical pain and discomfort of your arrival into this crazy world and get to the good stuff. Once you're out, I get to put little Chicago Bears booties on your feet (that Uncle Marc got you before the Bears made that ridiculous trade for Jay Cutler for 2 first rounders and a third and Kyle Orton...) and take you back to your future home. No matter, you'll be coming home. Home. Funny word, 'home'.
Home. Your first licks in the face from a big black lab and a crazy Cairn. Home. Your first ever bedroom. Home. Where you took your first steps. Home. Home. Home. Its a great word, funny as it sounds. Its where you're supposed to be. Home. Can't wait til you get here and all heck breaks loose.
Keep doing whatever it is you're doing in there, Sean. Its working out. Your dad is one proud guy.
Love already,
Dad
Monday, April 6, 2009
For 9 months only - Cirque de Soleil, the Uterine Show!
Good morning our little acrobat!
I have today off as I work this Saturday so I thought this to be the perfect chance to catch back up with you. It was a beautiful weekend with lots of sunshine but today it is (to my bitter disgust) SNOWING - again!!! Everyone is starting to feel like this winter will never end (although it is officially spring). I hope that my poor little daffodils that thought it safe to sprout in the backyard, are resilient enough to handle this awful weather.
I spent a lot of time with your uncles Anthony and Joe on Saturday while your dad worked. We had breakfast together and then took the dogs to the local park for a romp. Your big black lab brother, Tucker, spent most of the time in the creek or in the lake. The water must have been freezing but he didn't mind and instead he managed to attract some followers - a young family with two little girls who kept throwing him a stick in the water and then proceeded to burst into fits of cute little-girl laughter each time he chased it. It was very sweet.
Last night, your uncles with Ajay and your aunt Carol and cousin Evan came by for dinner. I had slaved all day on this meal and was proud to be serving it to my family. We started with a champagne cocktail (none for me of course :) and a pate with a blackberry sauce in pancetta followed by a side salad. The main course was a medallion of lamb on a fondant potato with a trio of pureed vegetables. We had homemade creme brulee for desert. Now your uncles may remember this dinner as nothing more than hamburgers and hotdogs with a baked potato and pre-made salads (one of which was a radioactive-green coleslaw) - but MY blog, MY memories.
We had a fantastic time! Tucker and Skye are still exhausted from all of the excitement and have only just reluctantly removed themselves from the couch to go out and relieve themselves. I swear that their little eyes were begging for a doggie-catheter so that they didn't have to leave the soft, warm comfort of the sofa.
Your uncle Anthony and I went through the scrapbook that your Granny made for your dad for Christmas 2002. It took your Granny over a year to put the book together and it is a wonderful collection of pictures and stories from the day your dad was born until we got married. Your uncle and I laughed at the story of your dad's 'Bobbie' (ie - bottle) and how your uncle Marc and Grampa would hide it from your dad to tease him. Anthony joked that your dad still loved his 'Bobbie' and perhaps we should play the same games. Your dad was not amused.
I got choked up at your dad's baby pictures. Your dad looks just like his dad (your Grampa) and you might look just the same. It will be so exciting to find out and to compare your dad's baby pictures with yours. That being said, I also come from a line of very dominant genes. All of the women and some of the men on my mum's side (the Hutcheson's) generally look the same - blonde hair, blue eyes. In fact, I was in Scotland a few years ago and entered into a local store. Before I could even say a word the cashier said 'You're a Hutcheson aren't you?!?!' Therefore it will be interest to see what the Danish/Scottish mix brings. That, with the random Greek component from your Pa's side, could make for a baby that looks very little like your dad or I. Time will tell I guess!
I've been watching an inordinate amount of baby shows, interested to see what other people go through when they have a child. There is a Baby Story, Birth Days, Life's Birth Stories and Bringing Home Baby. The first three deal with the days leading up to the couple's (or single parent) life-altering event when they will have and bring home their baby (or multiples - eek!). To say that I get emotional when the baby makes his or her glorious appearance is an understatement, tears stream down my face and I am positive I look less than attractive. To be honest, the babies often look like purple old men, but I am sure that although you may look the same, we will think you are just gorgeous. An episode today showed a woman, post-csection asking her husband 'is he cute???' and her husband, who was watching the nurses clean the wee guy who was squinting at the bright lights, said 'he looks like a Pirate.' Although I see these women in excruciating pain and panic, I am actually not worried about labour. Nope. What I am worried about is the days after you are brought home. I see these couples, often well educated and well-versed in every baby book under the sun, walk into their home with their baby - a look of shock and panic on their faces and what may as well be a cartoon bubble above their head saying 'What the heck do we do now????' They then show the first night when the couple is up every two hours and their pale, tired faces the next morning. Bringing Home Baby shows only the first three days after-birth and I enjoy it because it is realistic. I watched one today where the mother was in the same pyjamas for the full episode. That is one woman I can relate to. We are up for the challenge my dearest Sean, in fact we can't wait.
You are a very active baby. I feel you flipping, turning and moving a lot. Your dad keeps trying to get a feel of all of the activity but you are too small yet for him to get in on the action. At least, I assume that he is trying to feel the activity ... or he is just being a dirty boy. (cue your embarrassment 0nce again) I talk and sing to you all of the time. In fact, last night I lay in bed and you were doing your usual acrobatics so I began to talk to you. I opened my eyes to see Skye, sitting up with ears perked and a look on her face that I can only assume meant 'Who in the hell are you talking to???' You know it's bad when your dog looks at you like you are crazy.
We get to see you again in about 6 weeks! The last visit with Dr. Wavy-eyes showed that the fibroids I have in my uterus are larger and in two unusual spots which may make your arrival interesting to say the least. He is not worried and neither am I, you have to come out somehow! The next ultrasound will show any changes and will mean another set of pictures for your little album.
Well munchkin, I had better get something accomplished today. I am going to hang up some lovely clothes you received from our friends Matt and Jen and a cute 'Cottager in Training' onesie that you got from aunt Patty and uncle Mike. You are going to be one spoiled little boy!
One last thought. On one of the shows today the mom said that the reason that they allowed the show to film their experience was that someday when their son watches it he will know how much they loved him before they even met him. That is the same reason we do this blog. It is nice to have family and friends follow your development from afar, but mainly we hope that someday you will know how much time we've spent thinking about and planning for you and how excited we are for the changes that you will bring to our lives.
Love you.
Stay strong and healthy.
Love,
Mom
I have today off as I work this Saturday so I thought this to be the perfect chance to catch back up with you. It was a beautiful weekend with lots of sunshine but today it is (to my bitter disgust) SNOWING - again!!! Everyone is starting to feel like this winter will never end (although it is officially spring). I hope that my poor little daffodils that thought it safe to sprout in the backyard, are resilient enough to handle this awful weather.
I spent a lot of time with your uncles Anthony and Joe on Saturday while your dad worked. We had breakfast together and then took the dogs to the local park for a romp. Your big black lab brother, Tucker, spent most of the time in the creek or in the lake. The water must have been freezing but he didn't mind and instead he managed to attract some followers - a young family with two little girls who kept throwing him a stick in the water and then proceeded to burst into fits of cute little-girl laughter each time he chased it. It was very sweet.
Last night, your uncles with Ajay and your aunt Carol and cousin Evan came by for dinner. I had slaved all day on this meal and was proud to be serving it to my family. We started with a champagne cocktail (none for me of course :) and a pate with a blackberry sauce in pancetta followed by a side salad. The main course was a medallion of lamb on a fondant potato with a trio of pureed vegetables. We had homemade creme brulee for desert. Now your uncles may remember this dinner as nothing more than hamburgers and hotdogs with a baked potato and pre-made salads (one of which was a radioactive-green coleslaw) - but MY blog, MY memories.
We had a fantastic time! Tucker and Skye are still exhausted from all of the excitement and have only just reluctantly removed themselves from the couch to go out and relieve themselves. I swear that their little eyes were begging for a doggie-catheter so that they didn't have to leave the soft, warm comfort of the sofa.
Your uncle Anthony and I went through the scrapbook that your Granny made for your dad for Christmas 2002. It took your Granny over a year to put the book together and it is a wonderful collection of pictures and stories from the day your dad was born until we got married. Your uncle and I laughed at the story of your dad's 'Bobbie' (ie - bottle) and how your uncle Marc and Grampa would hide it from your dad to tease him. Anthony joked that your dad still loved his 'Bobbie' and perhaps we should play the same games. Your dad was not amused.
I got choked up at your dad's baby pictures. Your dad looks just like his dad (your Grampa) and you might look just the same. It will be so exciting to find out and to compare your dad's baby pictures with yours. That being said, I also come from a line of very dominant genes. All of the women and some of the men on my mum's side (the Hutcheson's) generally look the same - blonde hair, blue eyes. In fact, I was in Scotland a few years ago and entered into a local store. Before I could even say a word the cashier said 'You're a Hutcheson aren't you?!?!' Therefore it will be interest to see what the Danish/Scottish mix brings. That, with the random Greek component from your Pa's side, could make for a baby that looks very little like your dad or I. Time will tell I guess!
I've been watching an inordinate amount of baby shows, interested to see what other people go through when they have a child. There is a Baby Story, Birth Days, Life's Birth Stories and Bringing Home Baby. The first three deal with the days leading up to the couple's (or single parent) life-altering event when they will have and bring home their baby (or multiples - eek!). To say that I get emotional when the baby makes his or her glorious appearance is an understatement, tears stream down my face and I am positive I look less than attractive. To be honest, the babies often look like purple old men, but I am sure that although you may look the same, we will think you are just gorgeous. An episode today showed a woman, post-csection asking her husband 'is he cute???' and her husband, who was watching the nurses clean the wee guy who was squinting at the bright lights, said 'he looks like a Pirate.' Although I see these women in excruciating pain and panic, I am actually not worried about labour. Nope. What I am worried about is the days after you are brought home. I see these couples, often well educated and well-versed in every baby book under the sun, walk into their home with their baby - a look of shock and panic on their faces and what may as well be a cartoon bubble above their head saying 'What the heck do we do now????' They then show the first night when the couple is up every two hours and their pale, tired faces the next morning. Bringing Home Baby shows only the first three days after-birth and I enjoy it because it is realistic. I watched one today where the mother was in the same pyjamas for the full episode. That is one woman I can relate to. We are up for the challenge my dearest Sean, in fact we can't wait.
You are a very active baby. I feel you flipping, turning and moving a lot. Your dad keeps trying to get a feel of all of the activity but you are too small yet for him to get in on the action. At least, I assume that he is trying to feel the activity ... or he is just being a dirty boy. (cue your embarrassment 0nce again) I talk and sing to you all of the time. In fact, last night I lay in bed and you were doing your usual acrobatics so I began to talk to you. I opened my eyes to see Skye, sitting up with ears perked and a look on her face that I can only assume meant 'Who in the hell are you talking to???' You know it's bad when your dog looks at you like you are crazy.
We get to see you again in about 6 weeks! The last visit with Dr. Wavy-eyes showed that the fibroids I have in my uterus are larger and in two unusual spots which may make your arrival interesting to say the least. He is not worried and neither am I, you have to come out somehow! The next ultrasound will show any changes and will mean another set of pictures for your little album.
Well munchkin, I had better get something accomplished today. I am going to hang up some lovely clothes you received from our friends Matt and Jen and a cute 'Cottager in Training' onesie that you got from aunt Patty and uncle Mike. You are going to be one spoiled little boy!
One last thought. On one of the shows today the mom said that the reason that they allowed the show to film their experience was that someday when their son watches it he will know how much they loved him before they even met him. That is the same reason we do this blog. It is nice to have family and friends follow your development from afar, but mainly we hope that someday you will know how much time we've spent thinking about and planning for you and how excited we are for the changes that you will bring to our lives.
Love you.
Stay strong and healthy.
Love,
Mom
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