So remember how I said we got a new place? And I was all excited about it? I left something out: we don't have internet. We could have internet, if we wanted it, but The Man and I opted out. And guess what? I can survive without internet at home!
There were a few things that went into our decision, including our mutual addiction to Netflix and my addiction to just being on the computer all the time when I'm bored. No internet at home means when The Man comes home from school, we have to spend time together, and not just sit next to each other on the couch looking at cat videos. No internet means we have to plan ahead when we want to go do things (like looking up movie times earlier on in the day when The Man's on campus). No internet means I'm reading more books, hanging out in the yard, and organizing my house more. No internet is actually pretty cool sometimes.
On the downside, I CAN'T be spontaneous about some things. I don't have the ability to look up exercise videos anymore. When I want to learn about something new (or I'm having an argument with the man about some piece of trivia), I have to go to campus to learn/answer the question. Also, Netflix just released the 7th season of Doctor Who. Like, the day that we moved. Seriously not cool.
I'm still not sure how I feel about having no internet at home. I just might die when I'm stuck at home in the winter with a newborn. First world problems.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Stormageddon's 2nd Photo Shoot
Today is my halfway point in the pregnancy; I bought myself some popsicles as a reward. The Man and I also went to the ObGyn today for the anomaly/anatomy ultrasound on Stormageddon. The last time we saw Stormy it looked like a grey jellybean, so we were pretty excited to see an actual humanoid creature in there. And it turns out the glossiness of the photos they give you is SUPER annoying when you're trying to take a picture of them, hence the reason you can see my reflection in many of these.
Anyways.
Anyways.
Stormageddon's lovely face. When I saw that eye, I was a little creeped out. No less creeped out now. I guess looking bad in photos is hereditary. In this picture you're being looked at straight-on, and you can see a bit of the thoracic cavity to the right (virtual high-five if you can see one of the heart's chambers).
Side note: Stormageddon was so dang squirmy that even the ultrasound tech was a little frazzled by it. She kept trying to take pictures and an arm would jump in to block the shot, or the entire baby would flip. She turned to me at one point and said incredulously, "can you feel it moving like this all the time?" I smiled and said, "oh yeah." Seriously, this kid is a mover. Kind of scared for when it comes out.
A side view of our squirmer. Already looking kind of like me; my family's pretty well-known for our large noses. I thought it was weird how the whole bottom half of Stormy's face jutted out like that, but after comparing with other 20 week ultrasounds I determined this is normal. Wow, I AM shallow...
And lastly, the big reveal. Baby's first chance for public indecency. Before I show the picture, I have to tell you some stories though.
When I was little my mum showed us the thread and needle trick for gender determination. She says it predicted all of her kids in order (quite a feat when there's nine of them). According to the thread and needle, I was going to have a girl first. Then when I was about nine weeks along, my dad told me that he'd seen my baby in his mind. It was a girl, and she was tiny with delicate facial features. When I first heard the heartbeat, it was around 155 beats/minute, and Mum told me that was a sure sign of a female. The Man has been hoping for a little girl, and he was pretty sure that's what we were going to have because both his sisters had girls first. All the wives' tales pointed to me having a girl: craving sweets, throwing up more, looking haggard, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. My coworkers bought me some diapers and a little pink outfit. So I wasn't too surprised to see:
PENIS! No, not THAT big; that's a leg :P
See, when everyone was counting on me having a girl, I wasn't so sure. I kept telling them that wives' tales were full of crap and my baby could be either no matter what. Hurrah for my little rebel!
Since I am an educated and classy adult, I sent my dad the picture you see above with the only text being the word "penis" over and over again.
When I dropped The Man off at campus after the visit, he was really sad and quiet. I asked him what was wrong; turns out he REALLY wanted a girl. I smiled sadly, hugged him, and whispered in his ear, "well, you know it's all your fault he's a boy, right?" Because I am an evil spouse.
So, Stormageddon is healthy and super active and has a Y chromosome. Science!
Sunday, June 8, 2014
The Problem with Being She-Ra
The Man and I recently signed the lease on a new place. It's a fixer-upper and a downsize, but we get a fireplace, a yard (also a fixer-upper) and my cat back. The landlord has pretty much given us free reign with the place, and has even offered to reimburse us if it turns out nice. We're actually super excited about it.
See, The Man and I both work in areas where it's sometimes hard to see the fruits of your labors. He'll program for 20+ hours and end up with a tiny blob that reacts to other tiny blobs on the screen. I'll lesson plan and grade and stress and end up with kids that don't even try to turn in any of the work they do. You feel like you're putting in all of your time for a thankless task, and it can get really depressing.
Cleaning, remodeling, and yard work are the opposite.
We are so dang excited about this new place because we've been setting goals, planning actions, and working with our hands, and at the end we can actually see what we've changed! Yesterday we spent over 4 hours just cleaning up the house and yard, and it felt awesome. It's nowhere near where we want it to be, but we can actually see a change in the place already. Hurrah!
It was a conversation during yesterday's cleaning that inspired this post.
Me: Hey [The Man], can you help me with this?
TM: Definitely. Actually, let me do it; you're pregnant.
M: Hah. I don't like using that; it feels like an excuse to-
TM: An excuse for me to be manly? An excuse for you to be womanly?
M: Am I not usually womanly?
TM: Well you're not like, "oh, TM, I'm so helpless!" You're pretty independent.
M: Huh.
It's not like The Man has a medieval view on gender roles; he's very supportive of my goals in life. When I told him I'd like to try to go back to school for sonography he got excited and encouraged me to take the online class I needed. We've talked a lot about the possibility of both of us working when our kids are in school.
At the same time though, I think it bugs him a bit that I'm more of a Wonder Woman than a Lois Lane. I rarely give him the opportunity to be the big strong man. And aye, there's the rub.
See, I LIKE being independent. I'm proud that I can change a tire, move heavy furniture, be the breadwinner, and stand up for myself. I'm not going to change that. I am not the type of person to let someone else make all the big decisions without my say in the matter. I know that I am capable and intelligent and hard-working and I'll be damned if I pretend that I'm not. I want my daughters to have that same sense of self-worth; that same ability to function on their own and be tough.
On the other hand, I sometimes wonder how much my independence bulldozes The Man's independence. He's such an easy-going guy that it's I often find myself telling him what to do, and that's no good either. And just like I sometimes want to be told that I'm beautiful and appealing, he sometimes likes to show that he's strong and capable of providing for me; it's kind of cruel for me to deny him those opportunities.
I think I just need to find a balance. Somehow.
See, The Man and I both work in areas where it's sometimes hard to see the fruits of your labors. He'll program for 20+ hours and end up with a tiny blob that reacts to other tiny blobs on the screen. I'll lesson plan and grade and stress and end up with kids that don't even try to turn in any of the work they do. You feel like you're putting in all of your time for a thankless task, and it can get really depressing.
Cleaning, remodeling, and yard work are the opposite.
We are so dang excited about this new place because we've been setting goals, planning actions, and working with our hands, and at the end we can actually see what we've changed! Yesterday we spent over 4 hours just cleaning up the house and yard, and it felt awesome. It's nowhere near where we want it to be, but we can actually see a change in the place already. Hurrah!
It was a conversation during yesterday's cleaning that inspired this post.
Me: Hey [The Man], can you help me with this?
TM: Definitely. Actually, let me do it; you're pregnant.
M: Hah. I don't like using that; it feels like an excuse to-
TM: An excuse for me to be manly? An excuse for you to be womanly?
M: Am I not usually womanly?
TM: Well you're not like, "oh, TM, I'm so helpless!" You're pretty independent.
M: Huh.
It's not like The Man has a medieval view on gender roles; he's very supportive of my goals in life. When I told him I'd like to try to go back to school for sonography he got excited and encouraged me to take the online class I needed. We've talked a lot about the possibility of both of us working when our kids are in school.
At the same time though, I think it bugs him a bit that I'm more of a Wonder Woman than a Lois Lane. I rarely give him the opportunity to be the big strong man. And aye, there's the rub.
See, I LIKE being independent. I'm proud that I can change a tire, move heavy furniture, be the breadwinner, and stand up for myself. I'm not going to change that. I am not the type of person to let someone else make all the big decisions without my say in the matter. I know that I am capable and intelligent and hard-working and I'll be damned if I pretend that I'm not. I want my daughters to have that same sense of self-worth; that same ability to function on their own and be tough.
On the other hand, I sometimes wonder how much my independence bulldozes The Man's independence. He's such an easy-going guy that it's I often find myself telling him what to do, and that's no good either. And just like I sometimes want to be told that I'm beautiful and appealing, he sometimes likes to show that he's strong and capable of providing for me; it's kind of cruel for me to deny him those opportunities.
I think I just need to find a balance. Somehow.
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