UGH!!!

Ok, that’s it, I quit….I don’t wanna do 8 + more weeks! I don’t wanna! I feel fat, I feel tired, I feel lazy, I feel…I feel just plain fed up! I know we all get to this point. I know that we all silently cry during our 85th middle of the night bathroom trip. I know this. Do I care? Not a bit. As every other pregnant woman on the home stretch will agree, no one, NO ONE can possibly be as miserable as you. And when you do find someone who may have a smidgen of an idea of your misery, you find yourself comparing complaints like war vets with battle scars…

“Man these braxton hicks are getting intense.”

“Ya my back is killing me.”

“I get up in the middle of the night to pee.”

“I get up three times in the middle of the night to pee.”

“I have 8 more weeks!”

“Ya? I have 9!!”

Everything was going great until about week 27. That’s when my back started to ache a bit and my hips began to do that super comfy throbbing thing in my sleep…From there the braxton hicks kicked in and ya, I said KICKED in….with a vengeance. Shortly after acquiring  a virtual vice grip around my swollen mid section, I started getting ass pain. Uh huh, yep, ass. As in the general tailbone/butt cheek/side butt area. But that’s not all! I’ve also started getting lightening crotch. Don’t know what that is? Google it. Lots of fun…Another little treat is the sensation of a full to capacity bladder immediately upon standing up from emptying it! How is that even possible?!?!

Aside from the many physical discomforts, the shit has hit the emotional fan. I have been rendered a mopey, blubbery, almost constantly teary eyed mess. The man boy goes to Canadian tire to buy a new camping axe, I cry because I think he’s always trying to find excuses to leave me. My girl tells me she can do something all by herself, I cry because she’s growing up too fast and she’s not going to be my baby for much longer. I’m loading the dishwasher, I cry because we have to many dishes?! Oh! Here’s a good one! I went to take my prenatal vitamin the other night and grabbed the chocolate milk out of the fridge to choke it back with. I gave it a good shake and the lid popped off, chocolate milk everywhere. I sharply yell FU*K!! Man Boy didn’t close it properly. He comes into the kitchen to see what’s up, says he’ll clean it up and not to yell at him. So I start sobbing uncontrollably. Like hiccuping, snot faced, shoulder shaking mess because I’m convinced he thinks I’m an asshole for snapping at him. It took one very understanding and slightly amused husband to talk me down and repeatedly assure me I’m really not a mean and terrible person and everyone does not in fact hate me…Sigh….I can not even begin to describe the level of ridiculousness I have stooped to. Hormones are kicking my ass.

I know that it could be so much worse. There are some ladies who go through 9 months of hell for their squatters. I count myself fortunate that the worst of my issues are some serious and random dog hate, (my poor Jersey :/) and the instinct to snarl and hiss at anyone I deem shifty (which lately includes most classes of stranger, pregnamones don’t discriminate) who comes to close to my person. Ya, even I admit that’s a weird one…I’m really trying to kick back a bit and enjoy the last weeks of just the three of us. Trying. Really trying…All I gotta say is, as of 37 weeks, scheduled C-section or not, I am doing everything in my power to evict this tiny tenant! Crazy bitch, over and out!

Miss K ❤

Home Sweet Home

I have mentioned before that I am the wife of a military man. This means living away from home. Far from home…For me, home is Southern Ontario.

After changing trades, the Man Boy had just over two years of training in Borden, our first move. I didn’t mind. It was only 30 minutes from my hometown and 15 from Barrie. Plenty of shopping, restaurants and not to far from Mississauga where the boy is from. We settled in, Learned what it was like to really live together, and did our best to collect some furniture. (It was our first place, we had virtually nothing!) When it came time for our first real posting, we thought we’d go for an adventure and explore a new Provence. If Borden was any indication, we’d get there, check it out, hunker down for a bit and then move on to the next chapter. Right? Wrong. For some idiotic reason I had it in my head that we’d be gone for a few years tops. Yeah, not so much…We’re now in our 5th year and I’m done. I want to go home….In all honestly, after about a year (maybe less) I had seen all I wanted to see of the east coast and was ready to pack up and go back to where I belonged.

So now, the boy is due for promotion sometime next year, which hopefully means another posting. Please….dear god please…Don’t get me wrong, there is a lot about Nova Scotia that I have come to love. I love the summers! Living in the Annapolis Valley means hot, fragrant, full of fruit summers. There are great little markets, fresh produce and farm fresh eggs seemingly everywhere. It’s pretty cool! The air is cleaner and doesn’t have that factory fart/congested highway/exhaust smell. Not to mention coasters (residents of the east coast) idea’s of traffic make me laugh. Housing is way cheap and there is no lack of spots for camping and other such outdoorsy things. Sounds awesome right? It is….sometimes. I miss convenience. I miss restaurants that don’t deep fry everything and always smell like greasy fish. I want to be able to go to a mall with more than 10 stores that I don’t have to drive almost 2 hours to get to…The ocean is cool and all, but I miss Georgian Bay. I miss Niagara Falls! I miss the zoo and the ex and fall fairs in every township! I miss trips to Toronto and the sounds of horns blasting, the CN tower, 102.1 the edge  and people ignoring me when I walk down the street! ( Adjusting to coaster chumminess took some getting used to ;P) Aside from all the comforts of home one of the biggest comforts I miss is family. I especially hate that my girl doesn’t even know to miss her family! She doesn’t have relationships with her grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…I want her to know what it’s like to be surrounded by that much love.

What, you may wonder are my chances of getting back to where my heart is? Slim to none. I basically have to accept the fact that I will never again be able to go home. The term homesick has a whole new meaning to me. Maybe it’s just pregnant talking. Maybe I’m really feeling it knowing that I’m going to have another baby that won’t get to know her family. Maybe it’s the fact that I have 3 nieces and nephews in Ontario, one which I’ve never met and another on the way. Or, maybe I’ve just had enough. I want to go home…

Miss K ❤

View from the CN tower

Georgian Bay sunset

CN tower at night

Balls! Balls of Energy!

  Ok so at 28 weeks I have apparently reached the sheer exhaustion part of pregnancy…I mean, I’m still chipper! I still go places and do things. I’m just a little, uh, slower? I blame it on the no sleep factor. Between not being allowed to sleep on my back, said back in an almost constant state of ache, my hips feeling like they are going to pop off my body, on going bathroom olympics and just general pregnancy induced insomnia, sleep officially sucks…It kills me to think I’ve got another 10+ weeks of this…ugh…Normally I would just ingest copious amounts of coffee, (or hook a sista up intravenously…) but yet again, pregnant ruins everything and I’m only allowed one measly cup! grrrrrr…. No energy drinks, which of course means no jager bombs. Drunken vibrating fetus anyone? Not exactly good parenting.

So what’s a dopey sleep deprived zombie to do? Ice cold showers and toothpick eyelid propping are out. I’m quickly running out of steam for brisk rejuvenating walks. To be honest, I just want to sit on my ass and wallow in my roundness. Oh, and eat food. Which brings me to balls! I made energy balls! I’ve never made them before and don’t know how much energy they’re going to give me but they taste fantastic! I tried to find a simple recipe but kept coming up short on ingredients, so I took a little from column A, little from column B and just went with it! Now I know it’s not Friday, but they were so good I had to share, like now. And voilà! 

Go with the flow Energy Balls: 

1 cup oatmeal (some recipes called for quick oats but I just used the regular stuff and they turned out great)

1/2 cup honey

1/2 cup peanut butter

1/2 cup coconut

1/4 cup chia seeds

2 Tbsp cocoa powder

1/3 cup dark chocolate chips or chunks

The process was super difficult…Dump it in a bowl and mix. Yep. When it’s all smooshed together, pop it in the fridge for at least 30 mins to chill then shape into balls and store in an airtight container for up to a week in the fridge. 

They turned out sticky, sweet and satisfying! You could add all kinds of stuff to put a different spin on them. Nuts, spices, dried fruit, the possibilities are endless! Great snack that was preggo and toddler approved 😉 

Miss K ❤

The Renfrew House…

Over the past few days, My niece, (who likes to think of herself as a Disney princes) has been bunking with us. The girls have been happily playing and reconnecting in a way only cousins seem to be able to do. No shy moments, no uncomfortable silences, no awkward pauses. Nothing but happy smiles, squeals of delight and lots and lots of high-pitched girly laughter. Of course there were a some hiccups. Two kids under 5, it’s bound to happen. Most of our issues were solved with a quick trip to the dollar store for a few matching items to remedy the chorus of “mines.” Other than that and sudden moments of play induced starvation, I hardly noticed there were two rug monkeys in my house. Much to my delight, they pretty much entertained themselves! Brought back a lot of awesome childhood memories…

My grandma is one amazing lady. This spry young thang would pack all 8 of us (9 now but the youngest wasn’t around yet in those days ;P) into her 3 bedroom bungalow every summer and over march break. You would think that would be all kinds of hectic right? Nope! Not for Grandma! Sleeping arrangements were determined by separating the ringleaders from the rest of the herd. Although, there were still plenty of doors cracked followed by squinty eyed, guilty, giggling children and a stern shushing tone ;P We had assigned seating for mealtimes with the older ones in between the under the table kickers and the girls always had one of Gram’s fresh smelling roses in its own little vase. Everyone had a chore to do no matter how small. Things like mixing the juice in the pitcher, (aptly named Miss-stir-stick) popping a can in the blue bin, grabbing yet another bag of milk from the fridge downstairs, setting the table, buttering toast…The list goes on. Grandma always seemed to find a way of making chores fun. Even doing the dishes turned into loading all the kids on the school bus. The little kids (small spoons and forks) sat up front and the bad boys (steak knives) had to ride in back. We learned that the word bored had many definitions  but being bored wasn’t one of them, and  quietude and but stop meant business! Her whole house and everyone in it ran like a well oiled machine. To this day I don’t understand how the heck she did it…

Some of my best summer memories were spent with my cousins in that little bungalow. We were built-in best friends. We climbed the old birch tree out front until the day it was cut down. We were each rocked to sleep on G.P’s green chair until we grew too big for his lap and the chair lost its rock. We had our favorite toys that we left there, ready and waiting to be played with again when we came back to claim them. (Mine was a green bucket with a purple hippo on it that Remy now plays with) We knew every hiding place, remembered every smell, memorized every creak and groan of the hardwood. We peered out the old windows covered in countless sun catchers and stained glass hummingbirds.  We loved that little house for the time we were able to spend in it together. And then we grew up…When it sold, it hurt a little. Like it would somehow keep a piece of my childhood with it and I’d never get it back. I know it was just a house, but it was our house. I’m just glad my girl got to see it. She got to smell its smells, hear it’s creaks and feel it’s well-worn rugs under her feet.

We loved that little house…

Miss K ❤

Three Strikes and She’s Out!

I have reached the long-awaited third trimester and if I wasn’t such a walrus, I’d jump up and down. So far, this pregnancy has been very different and very much the same as my first girls. The first major difference that comes to mind is the fact that this one was planned. We don’t like to call our girl an accident or an oops, she’s referred to as an unexpected surprise. If I told you I was in shock I’d be lying. It was more of a temporary coma…Minor brain lapses aside, it was a fabulously easy pregnancy, as is this one.

Neither of my first trimesters have plagued me with morning sickness or extreme fatigue. (although I was a little more tired this time) I’ve had no heartburn, despite the fact that girl number one was born with more hair than skin, and I don’t really have any complaints in the general aches and pains department. I know I know, F me right? Ya, having uneventful pregnancies doesn’t seem to inspire particularly nice thoughts among other baby farmers… I guess the only real differences I’ve noticed are that everything seems to happen sooner the second time. You get bigger faster, you feel movement earlier, the ability to shave and put on socks disappears much MUCH faster…

My problem is that I just don’t particularly enjoy being someone elses house for 9 months. I don’t love the fact that when I go swimming I resemble a giant sea cow. Manatee isn’t really my best look…I hate that It’s not considered good parenting to slurp back pitchers of sangria on a hot summer day, or that things like sushi and blue cheese are off the menu.Ach! I especially hate the waiting. I am the single most impatient person on the planet. Waiting patiently is not my forte! And then there’s the complete and total lack of control over my own damn body! I feel like bulbous marionette with an asshole puppeteer tugging on my strings…

Look a commercial about orange juice! Cry now!

I don’t care if you ate 5 minutes ago, you’re hungry again!

Your husband just walked in the door, you will now be mad at him. Don’t ask questions! You’re mad cause I say you’re mad!

I’ve also noticed that the smallish creature residing in my belly is not all that’s on my mind. With girl one, it was all I could think about. I read everything I could find about pregnancy, I had weekly updates emailed to me from 20 different websites, I thought about her 24-7, I had her room painted before we even knew she was a she…Even after all the prepping and planning, I didn’t feel ready. Everything had to be perfect, all her gear had to be ready and waiting, bags pack etc etc etc. This time? I have something like 11 weeks left and her room hasn’t been started. I haven’t bought any clothes because girl one has been the best dressed missus in town and I kept all my favorites just in case 😉 I’m so nonchalant about the whole thing! If it wasn’t for this massive belly I’d forget I was pregnant! She’ll be inner ninjaing it up in there and I’m like, oh ya! I’m an incubator! I swear my brains not firing on all cylinders….

So at the end of August, the Man Boy will be severely outnumbered. Poor guy. 3 ladies, 4 if you count the dog. He says he’s going to hole up in a battered old shack somewhere in the woods once a month until all visions of pink and pretty leave his brain. He jokes of course….I think…To be honest, (and he agree’s but I didn’t tell you that) girls suit him. He’s a good man with a soft heart, overflowing with love and affection for his leading ladies. His only downfall is the fact that girl one totally and completely knows how to play her poor unsuspecting daddy. I can only assume the he will meet the same suckerish fate when there’s two sets of lashes batting at him. Time will tell, not much longer now!

Miss K ❤

We Have A Pool!!

I’m still kind of in shock. I look out my window every two seconds to make sure it’s still there and I didn’t imagine it. I mean, it’s not a pool pool. It’s one of those oversized kid friendly ones that comes up to about your knees but I’m so incredibly happy with the damn thing I’m writing a post about it! I guess you could say it was a surprise…I asked the Man Boy if we could get one that the girl could play in and I could sit in. I should have known what was going to happen seeing as I sent him pool shopping by himself. Bigger is always better with this guy…Our first summer camping with the girl, we needed a new tent. I tell him to pick us out a nice tent that the playpen would fit in. He brought home a fabric palace….I shit you not, this thing is huge. It has three rooms and a foyer. A friggen foyer!? So really, I should have known my thoughts of a nice little wading pool would turn out to be the new home base for the synchronized swimming team…I gotta say tho, he timed his purchase with the first heat wave of the year. The girl and I had our first dip this morning and…Well….Oh my god It was awesome! As I shimmed my pregnant self back against the side and assumed frog legged, feet touching, head back position. All I could think was how much I loved my husband.

I always wanted a pool as a kid. I remember sitting in our tiny wader in the front yard and hearing the neighborhood kids splashing and playing in their in ground pools…Ya I wa jealous. Crazy jealous! I wanted to cannonball into that cool chemical laden water too. I wanted to feel my eyes burn from diving after those weighted rings over and over again. I wanted my lips to turn blue and start shaking uncontrollably because I just plain didn’t wanna get out! But no, there I sat, in ankle-deep water. I tried to convince my parents to get an above ground pool. I used to frantically point my fingers at the happily smiling fake families in the Canadian tire flyer, in hopes that they too would see how marvelous our lives could be. But alas, no pool. I can’t really blame them, (now, not then) we were always camping or cottaging. When you have a lake, you don’t need a pool. I didn’t mind that the water wasn’t crystal clear or that I was sharing my swimming hole with pollywogs and water skitters. Naw. As long as we were at the lake, I would tell myself, you can’t catch a fish or a frog in a pool! But I couldn’t take the lake with me. And so, I would return to sitting in my plastic puddle, silently hating all those splashing happy kids…Unless of course I was invited over, then I loved them 😉

You may not be able to swim in our pool. It’s more of a sit and chill kind of thing. But I love it. It’s big enough (and deep enough) for a floatation device of some sort. I see myself happily floating, big ole’ belly soaking up the sun with a drink in my hand. Non alcoholic of course…Not that that’s any more fun :/All in all! Good Job hubbie, your wife is one happy lady 😉

Miss K ❤