Oh how the time flies

Big changes are afoot in the Olmstead household...We're moving! Our new apartment is finally (almost) ready. Jorgen is slapping new paint on the walls and having the carpets cleaned and when that process is done, new apartment! JL and I are both thrilled to be moving to a bigger place. Bigger bedrooms, bigger closets, bigger bathroom, bigger family room, and...wait for it...smaller kitchen. That is our only complaint, so I guess we've got it pretty good.

Also, I went in yesterday for my latest OB checkup. The baby is doing splendidly, but gave me and Dr. Young a short scare since the baby moved up about six inches in a week! It was a long three minutes trying to find that heart beat, but when we did, I suddenly understood the final change:

I have a baby belly. Five days ago I woke up and it was there! I've officially had to make the switch to maternity pants at only 14 weeks. My mother kept reminding me that I was short so I would show sooner, but I didn't expect to be confined to blue banded pants this early on! I was thinking that I'd pop somewhere in between four and five months. However, this complaint stated, I have miraculously still not gained the weight I lost when JL and I were sick with the flu at the beginning of this adventure, so I guess I should count my blessings.

peanuts and bumblebees and ERs

This morning I was very sweetly woken up by JL with a kiss on the forehead and, "Sweetie, Rich and Caity are coming over. Your father is in the ER getting stitches." And I was awake. My worry button had been pushed. I had been jolted. Baby Bee had been jolted. But before I could roll myself out of bed JL started to brush my hair away from my face and continued his story. I caught bits and pieces of what he was saying while he lulled me back to a happy place full of sleep and sunshine and fairies bouncing on clouds. It went a bit like this: "Crib...accidently....fine....Caity....hadn't eaten....monitered too...need food...be here when released."

So I put my coherent husband to work. He pulled me out of bed. He pulled the sausage out of the freezer. He started the shower. He kissed me good morning. He helped me in the shower. And twenty seconds later I was right there with him in the land of coherent thoughts.

Ten minutes later I was opening my front door, hearing my father (rather enthusiastically) blurt out, "We're all okay!" I have never been so relieved to see my father chipper and alert in his jogging shorts before in my life. The hot pink bandages were just an added boost of happy.

Uh huh. Yup.

I dropped my Contemporary class like a hot potato. I feel a little lazy about it, but making a baby is hard work. I try not to compare myself to the gazillion other people that I know who are prego right now, working and going about their usual lives as if nothing abnormal has occurred to suck away their energy levels. I remind myself everyday that there are certain things that make this process a bit harder on me than I imagined as a little girl. The headaches, the FM, the arthritis.

But man alive, I'd drop a class any day to be able to carry this little person around with me for another six months. Totally worth it.

Sidebar: JL heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time this morning. His face was, to say the least, adorable!

Oh Wingers....

Today JL and I had a lunch date to Winger's, mainly because I had a fierce craving for these beauties, otherwise known as Sticky Fingers. Oh the spicy! Oh the sweet! I know people shouldn't find comfort in food, but for 45 minutes today I was the happiest prego person on the planet. *sigh*

I am now going to take a nap and (hopefully) dream about the wonderful food I just ate.

our little bumblebee

We're having a baby!!!

Today was our first doctor's appointment and Baby Bee is doing great! Everything measured spot on to our calculations, so sometime around November 28, JL and I will be adding a member to our little family.

a bit of a philosophically induced admission

While most people are taking finals and throwing in the towel after another semester accomplished, I am jumping feet first into Spring term here at the good ole Y. Midterms are next week (already?!) and JL so sweetly drives me up to campus four days a week so I can immerse myself in American History and Contemporary Art.  Which brings me to my point:

Today in Contemporary, Mark brought up the work of Giacometti, one of my favorite sculptors of all time.  As a child I remember being introduced to one of his elongated figures and since then I've always been a bit mesmerized by the man behind the art.  

Now, to me, the miserable thing about Contemporary is that everything is based on theories and ideals, usually written by philosophers and critics in the field. But today as we ripped apart a commentary by Sartre, a quote from Giacometti about his fears of the infinite struck me: "In space, there is too much." 

I started to think to myself, 'What am I terrified of? What horrifies me?' There are dozens of little silly things, like our living room in the middle of the night.  I, like any decent human being, shudder at images of genocide that appear in my daily newspaper. I have a paralyzing fear of Hilary Clinton. No joke. 

The dread that I carry around with me everyday, however, is nothing as easily forgotten as selfish politicians. I am petrified with concern that the physical pain that I experience everyday will come to reign over my life: my relationship with JL, the interactions that I have with friends and neighbors. It is so much easier to play the victim than to push past pain.  

As a result, I have added to our Rule for Happy Living:  #8 Mind over body. 

mission: almost accomplished

After returning home from our stolen vacation to our little apartment Friday night, JL and I were struck with a rather vicious stomach flu that knocked us both out for a solid 48 hours. (To be honest, longer, because JL is still queasy when he stands up and I'm still sleeping 18 hours a day and moving as little as possible.) As a result, our apartment a) smelled sickly and b) became covered in dirtiness. I'm happy to say, more for my satisfaction than anyone else, the dishes are mostly accomplished after a delicate balancing act that got all except two glasses on the drying rack.
In a complete random topic switch, I found our only plastic cup this afternoon and made frozen lemonade. Flashback, Tiki girls? It was delicious, especially after nothing but saltines and soup like substances for so many days.
You'll also note David Sedaris' book on our table. Props go out to Sedaris for keeping JL and I laughing between bouts of vomit and diarrhea. You wonderful dark and mundanely comedic man, you.