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Showing posts from August 16, 2009
With only three hours to go, it doesn't look like I'll make it to "intense labor mode" by 5pm. What's in three hours, you ask? Well, that would be the forced couples baby shower V and I will be racing to attend.

His family insists on hosting a shower. Sounds easy enough. Wrecked with drama, it is.

V just called... he had stopped by his parent's house and his mom asked if we were planning on going to the shower tonight. (Um, yeah... it is for us, right?) That led to a discussion about who was invited. V said he didn't know; the guest list was taken over by the aunts. V told me he's a little nervous about who they may have invited. With my luck it will be all his ex-girlfriends. What's odd about this is that we never wanted a shower in the first place. We have everything we need, except for diapers & baby wipes, but we were told (many times) that it was selfish to deny V's mom this opportunity to throw us a shower. And yet she doesn't seem…

The beginning of the long, drawn out end....

30 days to the due date. I'm actually finding myself quite nervous. I can't make it up a flight of stairs without getting completely out of breath; how on earth will I survive hours of labor? At this point I think I have a better chance of pushing my car up a hill with one hand. Pushing something the size of a watermelon out my yoo-hoo, which, for the record, is the size of a grape.... Ok, I actually don't know if that's accurate, but it's got to be close. Anyway, you get my point. The car would be easier.

We had an appointment Tuesday. Time for some fun! Pee in the cup, get weighed, measure the abdomen, have something scraped against my rectum, blood pres --- Wait, scrape WHERE?! Yeah, something else they never tell you about. But I survived.

Since I have this odd little habit of getting dizzy, seeing floaters, blacking out and vomitting all over myself, etc., the doc decided to hook me up to a monitor. They took V and I to this darkened room with the largest, comfi…

Passive Aggressive much?

One of my professional duties is issuing notices of violation and citations when property owners are not following our zoning codes. (Think of a police officer busting a speeder... except I don't get the cool bullet proof vest, tazer, or car with lights & sirens.)

I don't expect people to like me, much less thank me, for doing my job, because it usually means they were doing something they very much wanted to do that I made them stop doing. And people don't generally want to thank me for that. But every once in a while a "thank you" comes through to me. Here's one I received this afternoon from a gentleman that complied with stopping and fixing a non-compliant situation:

I do want to thank you for taking the time to note the "end to the matter." These have not been easy solutions for me or to my needs.

Losing the many thousands of dollars on the mobile home, does not hurt as much as I will not be able to use my farm until I get a caretaker to live…