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Ultrasound Tech:  Are you planning to find out the sex of the baby?


UT:  Alright we’ll see what we can do.  (Scans some things that are not my baby and then quickly proceeds to the good stuff)  Well, normally I wait to share the sex until the end, but this baby is giving us a fantastic shot here.  Imagine the baby sitting on a glass table and you’re looking up.  Here’s leg 1, leg 2, the cord and here are HIS boy parts.

Us:  WOW.  Oh my God.  Our SON!  WOW.  (Um, this went on for pretty much the entire appointment.)

As we were leaving TTO looked at me and said, “I know we both thought it was a girl, but earlier this week I started thinking that it was actually a boy.”  I couldn’t quite believe it because as I mentioned in my last post I had thought the same exact thing.  Little L (as he’ll be called until January when we’ll tell everyone his name) spent the rest of the time showing off his Phelpsian flip turns, healthy heart and other vital organs, ten fingers, ten toes (on his 1.5 inch feet!), his TONGUE and many more shots of his personal business (the boy REALLY wanted us to know). 

Prior to the scan, Big Daddy said that whether this baby was a boy or a girl it would most definitely have a big head (courtesy of yours truly) and long arms and legs (courtesy of TTO).  He was right on both accounts.  Little L is measuring a week ahead of schedule.

While my mom (Grandma Kiki – hee!) may be a teeny bit disappointed that this baby won’t be wearing the cute little dresses and wee little swimming suit, everyone has met the news with a big WOOHOO!  Including us.  When I say that we had no preference, I really and truly mean it.  We would have been equally happy if it were a girl.  Sure, this means I’ll live in a house of all boys (for now), but I can manage. 

It still feels surreal to be referring to him as a HIM and with his actual NAME.


Wow, it’s been a really, really long time since my post.  11 weeks if I’m being completely accurate.  I only know this because I last wrote right after our ten week ultrasound and as of tomorrow I’ll be 21 weeks.  We have the BIG ultrasound tomorrow.  By this time tomorrow night I’ll *hopefully* know if Baby O is a boy or a girl.  TTO and I have both felt girl very strongly from the beginning, but lately I’ve been less sure.  With the exception of my mom, everyone else thinks it is definitely a boy.  We’ll be throughly happy no matter what.

I have been extremely, EXTREMELY lucky with the pregnancy.  I haven’t experienced any of the negative side effects everyone talks about.  I had some mild nausea in the beginning, but no puking.  I’ve been a little tired and a few other sundry issues, but absolutely nothing to complain about.  I feel a little guilty about this, especially knowing how awful the experience has been for others.  I’m also worried that because the pregnancy thus far has been so easy this child will be a demon when it is no longer inside of my body.

We’re also a lot farther along with the baby preparedness than I thought we would be at this time.  Thanks to Craigslist, consignment stores, garage sales and the generosity of our families (who are SO EXCITED, THRILLED, ECSTATIC and every other happy adjective you can think of) we are in possession of a crib, a glider, a high chair, three rubbermaid bins of clothes and blankets, a portable swing, a pack n’ play, an exersaucer and much more.  I’m still on the hunt for the elusive natural colored wood changing table/dresser, but we do have a changing table that will work if I can’t find one I love.  The nursery will be staying the current dark sage green because the color will work for a boy or a girl and that room is already on its third shade of green.  We are painting the trim white to help lighten it up a little. 

Yes I am painting, while wearing a mask, with the windows open and a fan on.  Other things I have done that are supposed to be big no-nos (but have been given the okay from my truly awesome doctor) include ingesting caffeine, coloring my hair, sleeping on my back and eating lunch meat.  Everyone is a little surprised at how laid back I’ve been.  Including me.  I tend to be a bit of a hypochondriac (this may be a giant understatement), but I decided that I just wanted to relax and enjoy this.  And I have.  I’ve double-checked every questionable act with my doctor beforehand and I listen to my body when it says to eat, drink more water and rest.  I’ve had one unplanned trip to the doctor where the issue was quickly diagnosed (round ligament pain) and since then all has been well.

The hormones have hit a little bit this week, but nothing irrational.  Yet.  I was beating myself up about not making more of an effort to journal the pregnancy.  I’ve written exactly one entry in the pregnancy journal I HAD to have.  Then I talked myself out of the funk by reminding myself that some of my most favorite memories are things I never would have written down.  If all I remember from this time is that I had really bad, awful, terrible gas, well then so be it.  Or maybe it will be the fact that I’ve had horribly inappropriate dreams about Bobby Flay, Joe Mauer and an old high school crush (definitely not people I would choose to have THOSE kinds of dreams about).  While they might not be warm fuzzies, they are definitely the truth.  What I know I will remember is the first time TTO talked to the baby and told it how much it was loved. 

Auntie Alice is hopefully going to be our nanny for at least the first 9-12 months of Baby O’s life.  I’m going to let her and TTO hammer out the financial details because that was the other issue I was handling a bit hormonally.  I have to say that I am truly excited by the thought of sharing the early part of Baby O’s existence with Alice.  Having a seven year age difference has prevented us from really bonding through the major life events and I hope this is our time to really get to know and appreciate each other. 

Also?  The way Alice says goodbye to the belly whenever we see her melts my heart.  She wiggles her fingers at it and talks in a squeaky voice that just seals for me how much this baby is already loved by each and every person around us.

In addition to all things baby-related, we’ve experience a few other life-changing events in the last few months.  You may remember that I started what seemed like a great new job back in February.  Unfortunately that job turned out to be completely hellish.  The work itself was fun, but the people I worked for were completely psychotic.  I wasn’t the only one who thought so – there had been 10 people in my job in the last 2 years.  My replacement lasted six weeks.  I’m not going to rehash how awful it was, but the stories of my experiences are becoming legends.  If you ask nicely maybe I’ll email you a few. 

I can be so nonchalant about it because I was able to get the heck out of there and into a fantastic, pinch me-worthy situation.  I found a great job, doing something I thorougly enjoy, in Hometown – meaning I get to go my parent’s house for lunch every day and it will make the eventual move back much less difficult.  I was really nervous about breaking the baby news to them.  I opted not to say anything during the interview process because I was worried it might hurt my chances and it was still relatively early.  I broke down and told them the Friday of my first week.  Their reaction?  Why would you be worried about telling us?  This is fantastic news!  Nothing is more important than family!  I was blown away.  This is definitely the job I was meant to have.

Last night we found out that TTO will finally get to leave his crazy, crazy work schedule behind.  No more 12 hour shifts, nights or weekends.  Instead he’ll be doing four ten hour days.  And he’ll get to take about three weeks off when the baby is born.  He has been an amazing support through everything and I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.  While our relationship has always been rock solid, the pregnancy has brought us to a new level of trust and appreciation.  He is already a fantastic dad. 

We’ve also worked out a plan that will have us moving back to Hometown and onto a FARM (I’ll have to save that  for another post) in roughly two years.  Everything we’ve talked about for almost seven years is falling into place.  I really can’t believe it.  There is a part of me that keeps feeling like the other shoe is going to drop, but I’m not going to buy into it.  Instead I’m going to savor the blessings that have been given to us and be thankful each and every day.

Also, Gus?  Did not have cancer.  He is 100% healthy and so ready to be a big brother.  All of the above-mentioned baby stuff has been sniffed for approval and he hasn’t jumped up on me when I’ve walked through the door since June.  I think he knows, because TTO and Auntie Alice still get the full body treatment.

I apologize for the jumbled-ness of this post, but I just needed to get it all out already. 

Basically life has been a Jason Mraz song (who I will be seeing LIVE in November when I am probably going to be too huge to enjoy it) for the past few months.

Lucky I’m in love with my best friend

Lucky to have been where I have been

Lucky to be coming home again

TTO is on the verge of a really rigorous time period at work and tonight he participated in a what’s become a ritual for his particular work crew each year at this time.

He went to a strip club.

And I have to say I don’t get why strip clubs are such a big deal.  Not in the sense that I don’t understand why guys go.  I get that entirely.  What I don’t get is why some women get their undies all in a bunch when their men venture into these particular dens of inequity. 

I went to a bachelorette party a few months ago and the bachelor party was occurring at the same time but in a much different location.  One of the younger ladies in our group was HYSTERICAL because she heard the guys would be going to the nudie bar.  Apparently her husband isn’t “allowed” in places like that.  She was screaming about divorce in between drinks out of her penis-shaped cup.  I was baffled.  What did she think they were going to do?  It was a bachelor party!  The groom’s dad and future father-in-law were there!  I heard from TTO later that said husband sat at a table in the back and did not look up the entire time.  Poor guy, he probably could have used it.

Honestly, I’ve never actually been in a strip club.  My small hometown had one but I never went.  I can’t really say why.  Probably because good Catholic girls don’t do things like that.  In college I always thought that being an exotic dancer wouldn’t be so bad if you had the right body and no inhibitions (I wasn’t a candidate because I possessed neither).  You make good money, people appreciate the work you’re doing and the shoes are pretty awesome.  I knew guys that would go every weekend and drop hundreds of dollars.  That’s the only thing I really can’t understand – handing over your hard earned money just for a few minutes of attention, but hey if it makes you happy I’m not going to fault you for it.

The other thing that bothers me is the stigma that’s attached to the girls that work in these places.  Playboy centerfolds are practically celebrities, but the girl that lives upstairs and wears 6 inch lucite heels to work is dirty, wrong and evil. Dancing on a stage in skimpy outfits does not equal prostitution.  From what I hear, these ladies sometimes wear more clothing than your average professional cheerleader. 

A few years ago one of TTO’s friends married an ex-stripper.  I couldn’t believe all of the nasty gossip that was flying about – especially since no one had personally met her.  Would they have made the same “gold-digger” and comments if she was a waitress or a bartender?  If you’re out there working it to pay for school or to take care of your family or just because you LIKE it, I say go on with your pole-polishing self.   

I don’t know.  Maybe I’m just lucky that I have so much trust in TTO.  I know he’s coming home – usually with lots of compliments for ME and funny stories to share.  Tonight, for example, “I bought a lap dance for Fred and you’ll never guess what song came on – ‘Sweet Caroline’ – even the stripper was pissed.  I’ll never hear that song the same again.”

I was really wracking my brain trying to come up with a new Gus post.  If he’s done something fun or exciting we’ve likely missed it.  TTO is in the midst of an insanely long stretch of working without a day off.  He won’t have a break until near the end of April.  I’ve been working longer hours than normal at work and our social schedule has been much more involved.  Sadly, this means a lot less quality Gus time. 

Gus is a very affectionate dog and while he’s pretty low maintenance he really does need a good amount of interaction.  We contemplated getting him a sibling to ease the lonliness.  TTO even found an ad in the paper for puppies of Gus’ exact mix (Boxer and English Bulldog) and we were thisclose to going to look at them.  Fortunately more rational heads prevailed and we decided to hold off on any family additions until this summer. 

It was a good thing too, I’d hate to see what TWO dogs would do to a roll of paper towels.  I found this when I got out of the shower this morning. A ready-made blog topic.  It’s a good thing the weekend is upon us – Gus obviously needs some attention.




TTO did an admirable job in my absence, but I’ve cleared my head (as best I can) and I’m ready to get back in the saddle.  I’ll have a new post on Monday.

A quick hello from the lady of the blog – I had to remind TTO of his blogging duties.  I bet you thought I was the only one around here who made lists.  You lose!

I work with a bunch of dirty old men and we sit around make fun of each other.  Below are some of the nicknames we use:

Hereford Head – His head looks like it came from a Herford breed cow

Taconite ass – He was shot in the butt during a hunting trip and he’s originally from Minnesota’s Iron Range

Old Wooden Tooth – He has some dental issues.  He chews.  And his teeth are a little brown, like oak.

Uncle F’em – The most bitter man in the worldSweats – Wears sweat pants every day

Mush Head Queer Pants – Just like the name says

Ice Pick – Threatened to stab a boss in the eye with an ice pick

Big Nose – Enough said

Harry – He looks like a shaven Ewok

Bernie – His real name is Richard, but when he started his handwriting on all of his forms was so awful that they had to guess what name to put on his uniforms.  They used Bernard.

The Gay Firefighter – Not that there’s anything wrong with that

Sarge – He was in the Marines

Fish Back – He has a tramp stamp of fish.  Yes, a male tramp stamp.

Jagor – A cross of Mick Jagger and Quasi Modo

Blueberry Cowboy – Fake cowboy

Billy Big Bass – Thinks he’s a pro fisherman

Lil’ Hitler – Bossy a-hole

Wood Tick – Big fat guy, like a wood tick right before it pops

Kool-Aid – Big fat guy, wears red

Utee – From Utah

Retard Don Knots -That’s what he looks like.  (For the record, I hate this use of the word retard just like my wife does)

Tree Hugger – Way left of center, viva revolution.

Ten Gallon Head – Really large head

It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t share my own nicknames:

Swede – I’m Swedish (yep, we’re really creative)

Sweety – Variation of the above

Nappy Haired Swede – I badly need a haircut

Dumb Tall Swede – More of the same

Porn – It rhymes with TTO


Stay tuned for Friday.  Gus is ready for his comeback.