An Update on Baby Jackson

Things are progressing nicely with Baby Jackson after a mild scare a couple of weeks. Ok, it wasn't even a scare so much as my doctor getting a little bit too concerned about my blood pressure. I'll explain that first since it plays into my update.

So a couple of weeks ago I was at a diabetes appointment to see how things were going and we discovered my blood pressure was up. Now to be fair, I had just gotten a bad cold a couple of days prior and had taken a Sudafed that morning, which, unbeknownst to me, can cause one's blood pressure to rise. So the nurse had a minor freak out and called my doctor but let me go home. A nurse called back and said to check my blood pressure on Friday and Monday and call with the results and they'd figure out where to go from there. No big deal.

So Friday comes and I get my blood pressure checked and go figure, it's still high. I hadn't taken any medication since Wednesday but my cold was still raging. I call in the results, grab some lunch for Glenn and I, and head home. Fast forward a half hour and my phone rings. My doctor herself is on the line and tells me I need to go to the hospital to get monitored. I, of course, freak out a little and call my mom so she can come and get Rowan from daycare because I have no idea how long I'll actually be at the hospital.

I was monitored for about an hour and a half, during which my blood pressure went back to normal. I was showing no symptoms of hypertension like last time. Baby was monitored, too. He had no issues other than he wouldn't cooperate and kept moving around so the fetal monitor couldn't always capture him. Bottom line...my cold was doing me in. So I saw my doctor last week and went on medication for my blood pressure. No big deal. At the time, she basically said she would "take him" at 37 weeks, most likely by induction.

I had another ultrasound and check-up yesterday where I learned that baby is doing just fine. He's about 5 pounds, 4 ounces, give or take a 1/2 pound, is measuring short (the poor kid was doomed anyway), has a big head (I am not surprised), and actually has a little bit of hair. There is no sign that the diabetes or my blood pressure is causing any issues with him, which is awesome. My blood pressure was also fine, which was a relief. And because of all these good things, baby boy may not be here quite as early as we were expecting. He'll be early...just not here in two weeks early.

I was definitely disappointed because my left hip is taking the beating of a lifetime and the poor guy has no room to move around, which causes mommy to be VERY uncomfortable pretty much all the time. I go back in two weeks and we'll see if I've started dilating or not. I've been having a lot of cramping, which I'm told is a sign of early labor. Yay! If he's showing progress at wanting to make an appearance, I could be induced in about three weeks. I'm pretty much going to beg and plead because these last 24 hours have been rough on me. I hate to bitch and complain because I want him to be healthy but I can only take so much more.

That being said, I would appreciate it if people would not ask when he was coming or how much time I have left. I've been getting a lot of that at work and it's driving me nuts. I don't know anything concrete other than he'll be here when he gets here. We just want him healthy and safe so that may mean he comes in two weeks or four weeks. At this point your guess is as good as mine!

The One Where Rowan Had Surgery

It's been a week and I'm just finally getting around to posting about Rowan's surgery. Little man had what one would call a hydrocele, meaning he had a tiny hole between his abdomen and his groin that would allow fluid to drain into his right testicle. The specialist said it could potentially go away on its own but surgery was the sure fire way to make everything all better. So away we went.

Getting prepped and ready to go

Rowan had surgery at Children's in St. Paul. He was such a trooper. I think it helped that he's so young. He knew he was having surgery but didn't fully understand what that meant. And the staff at the hospital were great. They were awesome at making sure we were doing ok and keeping us informed as to what was going on.

Mommy went to the OR with Rowan so I could be with him when he was put under. I tried my best to keep it under control but watching them put him to sleep was awful. Pregnancy hormones didn't help at all, either. Luckily it was a quick surgery and he was back with us in no time. The part he hated the most was having the IV in his hand. He wanted it out in the worst way but had to eat his whole popsicle before they took it out.

Post-surgery

Two hours after surgery we were on our way. Rowan walked out on his own and insisted on playing with toys before we left. Honestly, you couldn't even tell he had surgery. He was bouncing off the walls as soon as we got home. My parents and grandma were nice enough to come up and brought us supper so we didn't have to cook. It also gave mommy and daddy a tiny break from being the doting parents we are. You can go ahead and laugh. Sarcasm is my best friend, you know.

Saturday Glenn ran the Warrior Dash for me. I had signed up a year ago and didn't think I should try and do it at 6 months pregnant. He got me a decent time. I let him keep the medal but I took the t-shirt. It's only fair.

Glenn post Warrior Dash

Rowan wearing daddy's medal

Cooling down like everyone else

It was flippin' hot at 10:00 in the morning. Rowan decided it was appropriate to dump water on himself like all of the other runners. What a kid!

Rowan has since recovered beautifully. He's got 2 more days of wearing his waterproof bandage and then he's good to go. Thank god because he wants that thing off in the worst way. Mommy's glad everything is over, too. It's definitely no fun to watch someone deal with surgery but it's even harder when it's your own kid. I guess that's just one of the things you deal with when you become a parent. Rowan basically has no fear so I'm sure this won't be the last time we visit the hospital. I just hope he decides to wait a few years before we have to go back!

Twelve Weeks and Counting

Today I had my first follow-up since getting diagnosed with gestational diabetes. It definitely didn't go the way I thought it would. My numbers overall haven't been horrible. Over the last week, I had two instances where my sugar level was over my limit. To me, that seemed really good. Wrong.

Let's see, first of all, I'm not getting enough calories. I managed to lose three pounds over the last week and apparently that's not a good thing. Second, I'm not getting quite enough carbs. I'm supposed to have 13 to 15 choices a day. My average is 9.5. Last, I'm not getting enough protein so I somehow have to figure out how to incorporate even more. So what does this mean? Basically I have one more week to try and straighten everything out or they'll make me go on insulin.

Here's why I'm pissed: I've barely had time to adjust to the fact that I have gestational diabetes. This is a lifestyle change for the next several weeks, one that I wasn't prepared for. I'm not used to counting my carbs and making sure every meal I eat is mostly balanced. So now I only have one more week to try and figure it out? That seems a bit extreme to me.

I am a horrible eater. I fully admit that. But it's really hard to try and get everything packed into one meal and still make sure my glucose level doesn't go over the top. Today at lunch and supper I ate more than I think I eat in one day, per their request. My levels were under the limit but not by much. So where's the give and take in all of this?

I'm so over this pregnancy. Don't get me wrong...I'm not sorry I'm pregnant. We struggled a lot to even get this baby as far as he is and I can't wait to hold him and love up on him. I just hate what being pregnant is doing to me. I can't even enjoy it anymore. At this point, I'm counting down the days until this is done.

The Fear of the Poke

Yesterday I got confirmation that I do indeed have gestational diabetes. I had to take the three-hour glucose test over a week ago and unfortunately didn't pass so I was sent to a specialist. I walked into that appointment completely freaked out over what this might mean. Was I going to have to give up my beloved diet coke? What would I do if they told me I had to check my blood sugar each day? And worst of all, what if I had to take insulin? I hate needles, in case you hadn't figured that out. And I know I have tattoos but that is completely different.

I was pleasantly surprised by the appointment. The nurse who did my consultation explained what it meant to have gestational diabetes and how it would be handled. I have to count my carbs but as I was looking over the recommended meal plan, I realized I have to eat way more than I thought I did. I just have to cut out pop and sweets. And my beloved diet coke is still something I can have. Yay!

The only piece I'm not happy about is having to poke my finger 4 times a day. My eyes literally filled with tears when she handed me the glucose monitor. I had to try it out there to make sure I knew how to use it. I sat there for so long with that little device pressed to my finger before I got the courage to push the button. And honestly, it was not nearly as painful as I thought it would be.

I know I'll get through this. It's just 13 more weeks of my life (or less if baby boy decides to listen to his mama and come a little bit early). I can't promise that someday I won't try to kill you for a cupcake. But as my nurse said, it's ok to have a treat of some kind on a special occasion. It's just not ok to have them every day. At least until the baby is born and then all bets are off.

And just to be clear, if I want advice, I will ask for it. I don't need lectures and I don't need people breathing down my neck about what I am eating. I am a big girl and I can handle this. I probably sound like a bitch but every pregnancy is different and what works for one person may not work for another. So this is between me and my doctor and no one else.

This is not a death sentence. If anything, this is preparing me for getting back into shape once he's born. Ok, let's be honest, once the holidays are past. Nothing will keep me from my holiday baking.

Why Turning 34 Just Plain Sucked

Well it happened. My birthday that is. Last Friday was the big 3-4. Definitely not a milestone but one year closer to being that much closer to 40. I'm not afraid of turning 40 but it's looming on the horizon a lot quicker than I anticipated.

To say I enjoyed my birthday is like saying the bear in the Great Outdoors enjoyed getting shot in the butt. It definitely did not make my top 10 birthdays. It didn't start off horrible. I kept Rowan out of daycare so he could go down to old daycare and play with the kids. Our old daycare lady is retiring this week so I wanted to give her a chance to hang out with him again. So I dropped him off for a couple of hours and went shopping. I made myself feel better that it was my birthday but snagging myself a lovely new handbag. Picture glitter where the lace is and you'll have a general idea of what it looks like.

The afternoon wasn't too bad, either, except for the fact that Rowan didn't actually sleep during naptime. So what did he do when we were driving to Apple Valley to go out for supper? Why sleep of course. We had to run a couple of errands first so we took turns sitting in the car with him so he'd get some decent sleep. You would have thought that would have helped once he actually woke up, but alas, it did not.

Dinner was less than pleasant. It was one meltdown after another ranging from not wanting to eat any fruit to freaking out because the chicken was on his plate even though I finally told him he didn't have to eat it because I was tired of fighting with him. The best part was getting a free birthday burger out of the deal.

Afterwards we went to a friend's house for dessert, where the fun of having a crabby three-year old continued. Rowan started the evening by pulling out an irrigation tube that had just got installed (luckily Brian and Glenn got it back in) and ended it with a full-on screaming and crying meltdown because we wouldn't let him have a mini sundae cone because he didn't actually finish his push up. Yeah, we're mean parents.

I was sick of dealing with him at this point so we loaded him in the car and went home. Home was 10 minutes away. That entire 10 minutes was filled with screaming about how he wasn't going to go into timeout or go to bed, that he was a good listener, and how he still wanted that sundae cone. At one point I had to bite my lip so that I wouldn't start crying because I was so tired of listening to him.

We've been trying very hard to not argue back because it doesn't do any good. That works in theory but at some point you just hit your breaking point. And of course, being pregnant amplifies everything x 10. I know it's just a phase he's going through. He's three, for god's sake. But I'm struggling enough with the added hormones, not being able to take my anxiety medication, and still dealing with house crap after 5 months and I don't know how much more I can take. I know we're given what God thinks we can handle and apparently he thinks I can tolerate a lot but I'm over it all. This baby cannot get here quick enough.

So, there you have it. It was definitely one of the crappier birthdays I've had but I got lots of well wishes through texts, phone calls, and Facebook, which definitely helped. One more year in the books. At least next year I can actually drink on my birthday.

Small Town Girl in the Big City

As most of you know, I grew up in small town Iowa. Lake Mills, Iowa to be exact. Generally, people are not familiar with it seeing as how it is a town of 2,300 people. But if you know where the casino is on I35, head 14 miles west and you'll hit it.

Growing up in a small town was nice but had its challenges. Everybody knew everybody and if you managed to keep a secret, you should be heralded. One time I was cruising the loop after school (yes, it's a real thing) and this woman pulled out of the gas station parking lot right into the side of my car. So I pulled into the gas station, the cops were called, yadda, yadda, yadda. I hadn't even had a chance to process anything when the woman behind the counter came out to tell me my mom was on the phone (we didn't have cell phones at the time). Yup, my mom had heard about the accident even though it had only happened 5 minutes prior. Good times!

Small town life meant that you knew everyone in your class...and usually the entire high school. You may not have gotten along with everybody but you always had somebody to hang out with. And it usually meant something to do even though it may not be legal. I spent a lot of time driving around, wasting gas, and went to the occasional party at someone's farm.

I miss that small town, more than I thought I ever would. But I'm not ready to go back and I don't know if I ever will be. I love being able to drive 2 miles and hit a Target or Wal-Mart or Cub. Back in the day, the closest "big" towns were a half hour away so you couldn't just run there if you needed something when you were cooking. And don't kid yourself...we had a grocery store. It may have been in the middle of nowhere but we had a grocery store! And 4 bars but that's beside the point.

I knew I was destined to get out of that town. Not because it was bad but because I couldn't always be myself there. I am not the girl I was in high school. That girl was quiet (if you didn't know me), sometimes shy, and rarely stirred up trouble. She wasn't in the "popular" crowd but she had a great group of friends, who she is still friends with to this day. The woman I am today is loud, funny, swears like a sailor, considers sarcasm her second language, and while she may be overweight, she doesn't let that hold her back from accomplishing things like running a 10-miler.

I always felt judged in that town so I went out of my way to be sure I didn't bring attention to myself. Looking back I can't believe how stupid that sounds. Of course people are going to judge you. That's how life goes and it happens no matter where you live. I don't regret much and I wouldn't go back and change my general sense of being but if I got to do it over again, everyone would have seen the me I am today rather than the me I was back then. Life is about living and doing and most importantly, being happy. Go find your happiness. I'm getting better at finding mine.

We Grow Boys At Our House...Apparently

Well, it's official. There will be yet another boy to carry on the Jackson name. Glenn's side of the family consists of a long line of nieces. 5 of them to be exact. Rowan was the first boy to come along and we're lucky enough to get a second one to join him. It keeps things interesting.

Baby boy was fairly uncooperative during the ultrasound. He kept moving and at one point did a 180 so the tech had to keep fishing around to get decent pictures of him. We did manage to get the token "obvious" shot of the boy parts. At least we hope that's what it is.

Profile

Foot!

Boy parts

You'll have to excuse the kick ass photography. I didn't feel like breaking out the scanner last night.

The placenta is really close to my cervix so I have to do another ultrasound in 4 weeks to see if it shifts at all. My doctor didn't seem to be too concerned. Overall, everything looks good. Baby has two hands, two feet, and a strong heart. While I desperately wanted a little girl, I'm happy that we're getting another little man. Mostly we're just glad he's healthy and appears to be quite happy. Rowan was dead set that he was having a baby sister so we've been doing our best to convince him otherwise. I think he's got it down now.

And now we get to play the name game. When we named Rowan, that was the only name we could agree on. I made up a list of some names yesterday and surprisingly Glenn said he liked three of them. Three! And the best part is Rowan can say them all. There is hope yet!

Parenthood: One of Life's Biggest Worries

As a parent, you spend a lot of time worrying about your kids. From the moment that baby is placed in your arms, you are responsible for their well-being, which means you're dealing with cuts, scrapes, and all sorts of owies that come along with being a kid. And some of it can be scary. I mean, we barely got a chance to hold Rowan before he was sent off to the NICU for 5 days. I worried a lot those 5 days.

Rowan - 1 day old in the NICU

 

Now don't get me wrong...I'm not one of those overprotective parents who rushes their kid to the doctor every time they say something hurts. But I am the type who worries when their kid doesn't act quite like themselves. Hence, my current worry about Rowan.

Saturday afternoon Rowan spent almost 8 hours outside either in the pool, on the trampoline, or just running around in general. He then proceeded to sleep for 12.5 hours, woke up for an hour, and then took a nap. He was fine in the afternoon and yesterday but last night was complaining that his head hurt. This morning, same thing. Acted normal but said his head still hurt. I'm guessing it's just dehydration from being outside in the heat.

It just makes me nervous when he does things like this. And it's not the first time. He's acted strange before when he doesn't feel good but every time I ask him if he's ok, he says he's fine. He probably is. I'm just being paranoid mom today. I hate being paranoid mom. Even our daycare lady thinks he's fine and she was a nurse for 30-some years.

I think my paranoidness (not a real word but I'm using it anyway) is because we're finding out what we're having today. You're probably thinking, "what the hell does that have to do with anything?" and you'd be right! The two have nothing to do with each other besides the fact that in less than 5 months, we'll have another baby to worry about. I can barely handle one kid. Two scares me a little...twice the poop, twice the barf (at least during flu season), but also twice as much to love. And at least one will be out of diapers!

 

 

T-minus 1 hour until the big moment. Cross your fingers it's a girl!

Bacation, Had to Get Away

I love long weekends. Especially ones that are as long as the work week. They would be even better if I got to sleep in. Since we just built the house and are having another baby, we decided not to do a big vacation this year. Instead, Glenn and I took Rowan to Duluth for the weekend. But before we left, we had to do something with the dog. Luckily my parents were nice enough to take him so Wednesday night we headed to Iowa.

We stayed overnight so Rowan could see Grandma's new baby kitties. One of my mother's outdoor cats had three kittens last weekend and of course, Rowan couldn't wait to pet the babies. He's already traumatized our guinea pig so I wasn't sure how this would go. Surprisingly, he did quite well. He's excited for them to get bigger so he can play with them.

The 4th of July was exactly what I needed...casual. We got back from Iowa in the late morning and spent the afternoon at a friend's place. Her apartment building has a pool so Ang, Brian, Glenn, and I took all the boys over for a pool party. They loved every minute of it. I did too as the water makes me feel less like a hippo. I was so tired I didn't even stay up for fireworks.

Friday morning we left for "bacation" as Rowan calls it. We went to the zoo, the Great Lakes Aquarium, Gooseberry Falls, Split Rock Lighthouse and Canal Park.

Superman at Gooseberry Falls

Rowan and Mommy by Split Rock Lighthouse

Enjoying a icee!

Rowan wore his superman shirt (complete with cape) on Saturday. I've never had so many people comment on a shirt before. One lady even turned around so she could take a picture of him.

We had a good time but it was nice to come home, even though it was a short trip. My pregnant body doesn't move like it should so I was tired most of the time.

This weekend (after I survive day after day of committee meetings) is jam packed with fun. Car Cruise, Christmas in July, and a picnic. I just have to survive until Friday!

My Builder Can "F" Off

Have I mentioned that I hate our builder? Hate is a strong word. And in this case, it applies. We moved into the house three months ago. We were told it could be a little bit before we got our garage floor, driveway, and everything else on the outside of the house done but it would be done by June 30. Ok, no problem.

Now I know we had a crappy spring and the rain gods are looking poorly upon us but come on. All I've ever asked for is for them to keep me up-to-date on what is happening. If nothing is going to happen that week, then fine, but at least shoot me an email to let me know that.

Now we're at the point where our garage floor has been poured, we have a front walkway, and the driveway is semi-prepared for asphalt. You would think that because this week has been incredibly nice something would have gotten done. Um, no. So I decided to make a phone call this morning, which ended up with me getting bitched out by the builder for bothering them by asking to keep us informed on what's happening. As you can imagine, that did not go over very well.

Now our builder prides themselves on their superior customer service. So I asked when we would see that. Probably not a good way to start the call but oh well. I expressed my frustration with the lack of updates as she had guaranteed me a few weeks ago that she would do better. I no more than get those words out when there is a tirade about how 50 people are calling every day and bitching at her about one thing or another and she's tired of it. But I'm free to go ahead and complain and she'll just listen to it. Oh, and did you know that they don't control the weather?

Stuff cannot get done due to weather. That's fine and I understand that. I want updates. Updates. That's it. I was told I could just look out the window to find out whether or not anything will get done that day. Plus, they didn't seem to think I'd want an email every day telling me that nothing was going to get done. And that's where they're wrong. A daily email would be a blessing compared to what I've been getting.

When she asked if I had called the landscaper yet, I said no. And I was told then I should probably take care of that before I start complaining about things. Not once have I brought up landscaping. I could care less. I'm wanting to know when shit is getting done. That's it.

Throughout this entire call, I got nothing but attitude, a raised voice, and a mouthful about how we don't think they're doing their best even though they are. And nowhere did I get an apology. Basically, I'm the bad guy in this situation.

I have never been treated so poorly in my life. I just paid them hundreds of thousands of dollars for this house and to get attitude about how I'm "bothering" them doesn't sit well with me. Last time I checked superior customer service doesn't involve yelling at your client or ridiculing them over something trivial such as landscaping. They can fuck off.

And on that note, I'm off to enjoy my weekend. Date night with my husband and our best friends tonight. We're taking the kids to Monsters University. Then a baby shower for my very dear friend on Sunday. It should be great!

Two Against Two

In case any of you missed Rowan's exciting photo announcement, God has finally answered our prayers. We're expecting another baby in late November. Thanksgiving day to be exact. We are thrilled to be giving Rowan a brother or a sister. He keeps calling it baby sister and wants to know where she is. Hopefully he'll handle it well if he gets a baby brother instead.

This pregnancy is very different from my first one. I have been plagued with nausea, mostly at night, and especially right before I go to bed. Luckily I haven't thrown up yet! If any of you know me, you know that puking and I don't get along real well. I've been able to combat it with food and peppermints. If it were Christmas time, I would buy stock in candy canes.

In addition to the nausea, I often get a "choking" sensation in my throat. I'm pretty sure my clothes and my hair are giving me claustrophobia. Don't laugh...it's true. I actually cut one of my t-shirts last night because I felt like I was dying. I can't have anything rubbing against my neck. Even just writing about it made me go grab a mint. I'm really hoping this goes away once I'm done with my first trimester.

Other than being nauseated, hormonal, claustrophobic, and tired, I'm doing great! Poor Glenn has to deal with me being a complete nutcase. I keep telling him it's only for a couple more weeks. I can never remember when the first trimester ends. It could be that I only have a week left. Ehh.

We are going to find out what we're having. I'm a planner...I need to know what to expect. We'd love to have a little girl this time but obviously we'll take whatever we get. A boy would be nice since we already have all of the clothes but I really want a girl to dress up. Girl clothes are way cuter than boy clothes.

My only pet peeve about being pregnant is that summer is quickly approaching, which means picnics, outdoors, and the best time of the year to consume adult beverages. Something that I cannot do for the next 7 months, which makes me a bitter betty. There's nothing like sitting outside on a warm summer night tossing back a few with your friends. I miss beer terribly right now, in case you can't tell. 7 more months. Lord help me.

Surly Brothers Need Not Apply

My post for the day is inspired by my "little" brother. I say that in quotes as he is actually 19 and a freshman in college. He's probably going to be highly offended by this post seeing as how he routinely tells me he doesn't like me, calls me a butthead, blah, blah, blah but I really don't care. Payback's a bitch, just like me.

When I was 14, I managed to get myself a little brother. In addition to the one I already had. I distinctly remember when my mother told us she was pregnant. We were at some restaurant in Albert Lea for Mother's day and I'm pretty sure it was my grandma who made some comment (jokingly) about my mom being pregnant, to which she confirmed said joke. At the time I was really excited. And then my friends and classmates found out. Let me tell you, there's nothing quite as exciting as having your classmates remind you that your parents still have sex. Plus it's annoying when strangers at the mall give you dirty looks because they think the baby in the car seat is yours.

Anywhoozles, I was a freshman in high school when baby Jared was born. I was convinced he was a girl (and still may be) and ended up losing a bet to my grandma. I lost myself a hard earned dollar that October day. I was basically like a second mother to this child, which is why I'm convinced he and I don't get along. That and he's a surly teenager.

Jared and I had a lot of fun when he was little. His favorite thing at the age of two was to ride this stupid bouncy horse for hours on end while watching Disney movies. I didn't have a lot of time with Jared though as he was almost 4 when I left for college. That didn't mean we didn't hang out, though. My friend Ang and I used to take him to the dorms and let him hang out with with us in the guys dorm. Or take him trick or treating so we had an excuse to get candy.

As we've gotten older, we've definitely drifted apart, which is not unexpected. Jared was pretty much raised an only child. I don't expect us to be best friends who share secrets but it would be nice to be acknowledged as someone he likes.

It's annoying that I typically only get mean comments, mostly on my Facebook page where everyone can read them. It's frustrating that we always have to force him to hang out with us when we do family things. It's incredibly sad that he doesn't acknowledge his nephews. When Rowan was born, my mom had to threaten to take away his video game systems just to get him to come to the NICU and hold Rowan. I can deal with him but poor Rowan just wants to play with Uncle Jerry and he won't give him the time of day. I realize I'm not painting a pretty picture of my brother but then again, who really looks beautiful when you lay it all out?

Life's too short as Boston has reminded us. So I'm letting my frustrations and annoyance and sadness go.

So what's the moral of this story? Well, I'm not really sure. All I know is that there are days that I would love to punch my brother in the throat because he's decided that it's ok to be an ass for no reason. Like when he posts on my facebook page as a potential blog topic: "How much of a butthead I am". And there are days where he and I can have so much fun together, mostly when the subject revolves around cats. Don't get me wrong...I do love my brother. I just hope that some day when he's a grown up, he remembers that.

It's Starting to Feel Like Home

We are officially moved in to the new house! Yippee!!

It only took us 4 days but all of our stuff is finally there. It's amazing how much crap one can accumulate over the course of 7 years. It wouldn't have been so bad if our renters hadn't taken over yesterday, which meant we only had 4 days to get everything moved. It worked out nicely, though. And I'm never moving again. Someone will have to remove my dead body from this house. Just sayin'.

The house is gorgeous, if I do say so myself.

 

View from front door

 

Upstairs living room

Kitchen

Dining Room

Master bathroom (my new tub!)

Downstairs living room

We're slowing adjusting to the new environment. Rowan loves his new room and can't wait to play outside. Too bad it's a mud pit for another 6 to 8 weeks. I am loving my commute, although I'm guessing Glenn loves his more. He can practically walk to work he's so close.

 

And don't worry...there will be a big party in mid-summer so everyone can see it. I'm guessing you'd like grass to walk on and an actual driveway first. I could be wrong.

Houses and Meetings and 2 Year Olds...Oh My!

Yes, it's been awhile. For your safety, I haven't blogged in a few weeks. I leave next week for sunny San Diego and the 2013 Annual Meeting! Finally! I'm surprised I'm not bald after these last couple of weeks. Between prepping for the meeting, keeping stats on the new house, and trying to get stuff packed and ready to go at the current house, I'm barely staying alive. And you know how dramatic I am so you know it's not nearly that bad. Only kind of.

The new house is coming along great! We close in just three short weeks...I can't wait! Right now they've got all the cabinets installed, the subfloor in, and the siding is almost up. I just keep thinking that four days after I get back from San Diego, I get to move into my big girl house. Yippee!!!!

Banister between 2nd and 3rd floors

My kitchen - cabinets yet to be stained

In addition to everything we've got going on, this weekend is Glenn Jackson's last weekend in the National Guard. It's a little bittersweet. I know how much he's enjoyed his time there; 12 years is a long time. But at the same time, I am so incredibly grateful that he will be home for good. No more drill weeks, no more AT, and no more deployments. He has missed out on so much over the past 7 years and I'm so glad he won't have to miss anymore.

Don't get me wrong...I am so incredibly proud of my husband. He's served his country for 12 years and been on 3 deployments, two of which have been with me. He's sacrificed so much but it's time for him to be with his family. Rowan will only be little for so long (thank god!). He's already missed 1 year of his life. I'd prefer it not to be more than that.

Speaking of Rowan, I'm struggling. I have this incredibly (and I do mean incredibly) smart little boy. So smart that he has to be put with the 4 and 5 year olds in preschool so he can be challenged. But we are always reminded that he is indeed only 2 years old. Ok, well 3 years old in a month but still. Temper tantrums and a bad attitude do not disappear when at school. I was reassured yesterday that he's not the only one who disrupts school so that made me feel better. I have a feeling we'll be screwed as he gets older. Le sigh.

Alright, I'm signing off. The next time you hear from me will be after I survive my two weeks in San Diego. Trust me, it's not as pleasant as it sounds. Yes, it will be warmer than good ol' Minnesota and there will be absolutely no snow but two weeks straight of 10 to 13 hour days is not appealing. BUT, I get my new house soon so it's all worth it! Ta ta!

The Odds Are Against Us...Sort Of

Be forewarned. This particular blog is full of sadness and anger. And I get way more emotional than some of you have seen in awhile. So here goes.

Yup, it's been one of those days. One of those "kick you in the ass, piss you off like no other" kind of days. There have been multiple contributors but the last straw was the fact that once again, I'm not pregnant. We have been trying to get pregnant for almost a year and so far, the odds are not in our favor. Which would explain why I've become a super fatty, drink a lot, and am super irritable at all times.

I know that by losing weight, I'd have a better chance of getting pregnant. But logic and my head are not a good mix right now. I'm under a lot of stress because I leave for the Annual Meeting in 20 days, we close on our new house in about 6 weeks, and, oh, by the way, I have to pack up our house and deal with the bitchy, old, single ladies who run our association and explain to them why we can't actually sell our house because we'll never get what we owe for it and they need to back the fuck off and remember that this is not 1998. The economy is not great. I digress.

All this did send me down a spiral of bitterness. I get tired of being disappointed month after month. I know some of you have been through this and I understand exactly what you're going through. I'm not a stranger to this feeling. It took us 9 months to get pregnant with Rowan and the only way it actually it actually happened was with fertility drugs. It's just so frustrating that once again, I'm back in this position.

Glenn and I are not doing well, hence the drinking my face off. He sucks...he's not a good alcoholic like others. But through all of this, our shining star is Rowan. I don't know what we'd do without him. As we speak, he is sitting with his dad singing the theme song to Team Umizoomi. All I can do is smile. I love that little guy so much. He makes our life so much better.

So right now, I'm asking for positive thoughts and lots of prayers. You may not think I deserve them, especially if you're in the same situation that I'm in, but know that I'm on your side and am sending good thoughts your way. I've been in your shoes. I know what it's like. And I know how much it hurts. And I'm asking for you to return the favor. If you've got my back, I've got yours. And I know we can get through this.

Life is Full of Soul Sucking Dragons

Last week was one of those "kill me now" weeks. One where that soul sucking dragon that is work about took me down. Ok, it was not that bad. It was bad, but not that bad. A couple of weeks ago I spent 5 days in Florida for a conference (I'm sure you all feel sorry for me) and it took until last Friday to feel like I was able to catch up. Being at a conference, trying to learn, doesn't mean that work stops. Throw in a holiday (MLK day) and it makes things worse. Thus the beer drinking, bad food, I don't care that I weigh in on Monday weekend. Despite that weekend, I only gained .2 pounds. That was a victory in my book!

I'm enjoying Weight Watchers. Have I been following my plan perfectly? Of course not. But, I'm making the effort...for the most part. I have my bad days where I'll take down some wings and beer. But that's part of this whole challenge. I know where I need to go and what I need to do to get there. And I'll do it. I have faith in myself.

Our house is coming along quickly. The house is up, windows are in, shingles are on, and they're moving on to the duct work and electrical. It's slated to be done in mid-March, right when I'm in San Diego. It would be nice to pre-sign and Glenn can move everything when I'm gone but I don't think I'll get that lucky. Ehh.

View of Kitchen/Dining Room from the loft

My walk-in closet!

Digging for sewer and water

This house process has actually been really good. We picked out all of our stuff and now it's just happening. If it were completely custom, I may hurt someone.

Now for a comedic moment. My sister-in-law sent me this picture today. I laughed out loud when I read it. It describes me to a T. Just ask Glenn Jackson.

 

 

We're off to Iowa for the weekend. My favorite nephew (read: only nephew) turns 2 on Sunday. I'm already planning on enjoying myself as his theme is the Super Bowl which means good food and beer (hopefully!). Peace out party people!

Dum Dum Dum (in a scary voice)

Last night I signed up for Weight Watchers...again. I am so embarrassed to admit that I let my weight creep up on me...much more than I thought it did. To the point that I now weigh just over 200 pounds. I've never weighed that much, except when I was pregnant with Rowan.

It was definitely a turning point when I stepped on that scale. Most of my teenage and adult life has been spent struggling with my weight. I used to be thin. I ate like a bird. I rarely drank pop. All of that changed halfway through high school and continued to get worse as I moved through teens, my 20's, and now my early 30's. I HATE that I let myself get this way. I HATE that I have absolutely no power over myself when it comes to food. Well you know what? NO MORE.

I'm done with this lifestyle. And I know I've said it before but this time, my heart and my head are in the same place. That's what makes this time different. I want this change. I want the smaller size clothing and the trim body and everything that goes with it. I. Want. This.

2013 WILL be my year.

*Side note: I swear I'm not yelling at you with my scary capitalized words. You know me...I'm loud and like to express it.

2013 Will Be My Year!

Happy New Year everyone! I hope everyone survived the holidays. I barely did as Rowan managed to get a double ear infection which has made him less than pleasant to be around. Top it off with very little good sleep for 6 days and you can imagine what a peach I am.

As with every new year, I, like many others, have come up with some resolutions. Ones that I really plan on sticking to.

My ultimate goal for 2013 is to run a half-marathon. I was thinking of doing one in May or June but with my work schedule and the new house, I'm not sure that I can commit to that kind of training right now. So, I'm shooting for one in August or September. I really want that 13.1 bumper sticker. Not that I'd stick it to my car (because I'm anal like that) but I'll tape it in the back window.

I'm also going to join Weight Watchers again. It's like the 4th time I've done this but it's the one thing I've done that has always helped me lose weight. My friend Amy and I are going to do it together. We're both stuck in that "I need to lose weight but have no motivation" phase of life so hopefully we can kick start each other into gear. We start on Monday. I'm excited and terrified at the same time. Eeek!

I'm also going to try weekly/bi-weekly goals like "I want to eat more vegetables each day" or "I want to cut back to one pop a day"...things like that. I'm hoping that between WW and my small goals, I can get down to my goal weight.

2013 is going to be my year. I want to look in the mirror with confidence and be proud of who I see. I want to go out on dates with my husband and have people look at me and think "Damn, how did that guy get so lucky?".

 

And damn it, I want to fit into a pair of Miss Me skinny jeans! They're so gonna be worth the $120 when the time comes.