Nesting

We have begun to prepare the nest for Bebe LaPointe and it's an absolute disaster area:

We've been without a working oven since the great spatchcocking incident of Thanksgiving '09 (thanks, Martha Stewart).  We knew we would eventually renovate the kitchen, so we didn't go out and buy a new one because we wanted to wait until we were ready to buy all new appliances and update the kitchen from top to bottom.

Well, that time is finally upon us.  Lowes usually offers 10% off of all appliances over $400 over Fourth of July weekend and this year, they offered 20% off of Whirlpool ones.  Fortunately, I had the foresight to acquire an additional 10% off coupon that could be used on top of that sale so Saturday morning we went to Lowes in North Bergen (which is an urban district and thus charges only 3.5% sales tax) and purchased new stainless steel appliances (a must in Hoboken for re-sale): a new French door refrigerator, a glass top range, an above the range microwave, and a new dishwasher.  Of course, we didn't buy a single Whirlpool appliance, even though I went in there with the model numbers of the four I was determined to purchase but we got great deals on Samsung and Frigidaire.

We then went to the stone yard and chose our countertops - thank GOD we only have 30 square feet to cover because stone is expensive!  I knew what I wanted when we went into the show room but I was open to other options.  Once we were in the yard looking at the slabs, my original choice was confirmed and that was that!  I think our salesperson was impressed with my decision making ability; what can I say, I know what I like and I know what sucks.

Sunday morning, Matt went to Home Depot and bought a hand truck and by noontime, the grease covered oven range was on the curb marked "free" and five minutes after that, it was gone.  He is such a champ - he thoroughly cleaned the empty space and got to work ripping off the old laminate countertops and hauling them to the curb.  I finished reading about Haimish Macbeth's latest adventures in the new M.C. Beaton mystery.  Pregnancy does have its advantages, I guess.

Today, Matt went back to Lowes and Home Depot and I trekked up to Washington Street to the paint shop to check out colors for the cabinets and walls.  Thankfully, Benjamin Moore offers little $3 sample pots of the exact colors I was looking for, so I purchased some of those and returned to Headquarters to experiment with cabinet finishes.  In between layering colors and attempting antique faux finishes in the 97 degree heat, I dunked my head under the bathroom spigot.  When Matt returned, he got to work on installing the kitchen floor and I returned to the couch and an afternoon/early evening of HGTV.

It's all coming together, so tune in for updates!

Confessions

I hate being pregnant.

Yep, that's right: if you know what's good for you, please don't ask to see my belly and don't even consider touching it. Don't ask how much weight I've gained or get all gooey on me with talk of spontaneous overflows of maternal feeling. I may hurl on you.

Don't tell me that I am radiating a glow of motherhood and have never looked better because I'll know you're lying. I am fat, uncomfortable, and in the midst of a major fashion crisis: the trifecta of a visual holocaust.

And please, don't go on about how much you loved being pregnant, roll your eyes while I'm complaining, or sigh that I need to "calm down and enjoy this special time".  Instead, take a good look at my hands and notice how my nails are bitten to the quick and put two and two together: you expect me to calm down when wine and Xanax are no longer options? Ha!

Don't get me wrong - I'm thrilled that we are having a baby. I adore little Bebe LaPointe, despite the fact that she's only the size of a navel orange and seems to spend most of her time resting on my bladder. I have no doubt that I'll be a good mother and honestly, I'm not worried about anything post-birth.

Because luck is not my middle name, I inherited a healthy dose of my mother's worrisome nature in addition to an extreme overload of my father's pessimism. Combined, those two traits make for one anxious pregnancy.

Which is why I spend all of my waking hours praying that her heart is still beating while convinced that it's not.

Ugh. Only 25 more weeks to go...

Just the Two of Us

Me and my Matty

Photos by Celine Marie Photography

One of my favorite bloggers, Aura Joon, has topped herself again 

with a beautiful post written about her and her adorable husband.

I have written before about how much I adore her blog; 

through her chosen subject matter, words, and images, 

she always manages to evoke feelings of 

warmth, humility, gratitude, graciousness, and love.

This particular post struck a chord with me since 

in a few short months, I will no longer be part of a two 

but will instead become a three.

Check it out here and if you don't read her regularly, make her a

part of your blog roll.  She is the real deal and I think if I 

could be someone for a day and Ellen DeGeneres wasn't available, 

I would be Aura Joon.

Ps. Did I mention her totally adorable husband?  I did?  Oh, yeah... 

well, he's just a tiny, tiny reason why I would choose to be her... lol.

Time is on My Side... or Is It?

I announced my pregnancy via Facebook this week and was a bit overwhelmed by the number of people who commented on the post - pregnancy announcements totally trump birthdays in terms of number of comments left on your page!

A friend from high school who is a mother of multiples, a college professor and a writer, too, commented that she was looking forward to my upcoming blogs and was interested in seeing how motherhood affects my writing in terms of whether or not I'll have the time or the energy.

She's the definition of a go-getter and it's apparent that she works very, very hard to balance her home and work life. I admire her ability to juggle motherhood while teaching in a tenure track position at a prestigious university (one that that requires her to research, write and publish regularly!). Plus, from what I've read on her Facebook page, she even manages time for a social life and enjoys time with friends and family!

For the past twenty years, my time has pretty much been my own but that's all going to change in December and honestly, I'm looking forward to that change (it is, after all, why I'm enduring all of these miserable changes to my body that pregnancy has forced on me - although I look forward to motherhood, I HATE being pregnant).  But just because I'm looking forward to it doesn't mean that I'm not scared out of my mind, too.  Aren't all first time mothers-to-be?

Fortunately, my husband kicks ass - he's awesome and that's not an exaggeration.  He's one of the few people in my life who anticipates my moods and runs interference before I even have a chance to recognize them.  He'll be scooping that crying baby out of my arms and urging me to go sit at the keyboard and "relax" (Matty is big on "relaxing"; I, on the other hand, am not familiar with that term...).

So, with the help and advice of good friends and family, I think I'll make it through and hopefully, I'll manage to get time on my side, too!

It's a Girl !

Last Friday, I went into Manhattan to be tortured by the one of the nation's premier OB/GYNs, which I wrote about here.

Well, the FISH results came back and baby is absolutely healthy and has all of the right chromosomes in all of the right combinations! Dr. Saltzman (of Carnegie Hill Imaging and who is not, in reality, a sadist but is, in actuality, the nicest and one of the most highly experienced CVS doctor performing that procedure in the country and who was so sweet to me during the torture and when he called personally to deliver the results) is, however, probably is a bit deaf now from my whoops of delight - particularly the one I let out when he said that my baby is a little girl!

I can't believe I am having a girl. People have been asking me which gender I preferred and honestly, I used to think it was a bunch of bullshit when people would say "I don't care, as long as it's healthy" but honestly, that's exactly how I felt. There was, of course, a part of me that wanted to little girl to dress in vintage Laura Ashley patterns but there was an equal sized part of me that wanted a little boy who would hold hands with his father on the way to the ball field and eventually become a short stop for the Mets.

And after I whooped in delight at the thought of hair ribbons and Sweet Sixteens, I felt guilty that it wasn't a boy to carry on his father's name. But as much as I know my husband would be an awesome dad to a little boy, I know that he'll get so much out of having a pink frocked darling who will always be her daddy's little girl.

And I know that she'll only be mine until puberty and then she'll hate my guts and wear a permanent pout and roll her eyes at me so often I'll cry myself to sleep.

But she'll love her daddy - that I know. My Matty is easily charmed by the right women and I know that Bebe LaPointe will work wonders on him. He'll benefit from constant devotion and love while I'll be without an appetite for her entire teen years.

And that makes me pretty happy because there's nothing I want more in the world than my Matty's happiness.

I went and bought a teensy, tiny pair of pink Converse All Stars and wrapped them up for Matt to open when he got home from work. His thing throughout this pregnancy has been sneakers - he can't wait to buy the baby all sorts of sneakers and so I wanted to show him that little girls can wear cute sneaks too.

Needless to say, he was thrilled when he saw the pink, if perhaps a little disappointed, but he quickly rebounded after I told him that yes, he could buy her all of the Mets, Cowboys, Rangers, and Rutgers gear he wanted...

... as long as it's pink!

Another Scottish Wedding

In just one month, I'll be heading to the land I love the most with the one I love the most for the reason I love the most: a Scottish wedding!

This will be the third Scottish wedding I've attended in as many years - mine being the second - and it's that of another one of the Scottish Walking Girls. Well, really a Scottish girl who is a Walking Girl by association and one brief walk but part of the transcontinental circle of friends I'm fortunate enough to belong to.

Lynsey is from Tobermory, pictured above, which is a village on the Isle of Mull but is currently living in Switzerland where she met her husband-to-be, a true Swiss Prince Charming who swept her off of her feet and turned her life into a real fairy tale (I'm not kidding: they live in a picturesque lakeside cottage in the countryside and spend their free time hiking in the Alps, wine tasting with friends, traveling the globe, and doing it all so happily it kind of makes one want to hurl).

I'm so excited for this wedding, as it will be a real blend of cultures in a gorgeous Scottish setting. They're getting married in a real castle (I got married at a ruined one, which kicked ass, in my opinion) and have two pipe bands lined up to entertain the guests until the wee hours. There will be lots of drams and pints and hell, I may even have a glass or two of champagne...

I mean after all, I'm sure French women don't abstain and since my last name is undeniably French, well, who's to argue?

It's Summertime!

After 10 LONG months spent waiting for its arrival, summer has finally graced me with its presence.

Summer should have begun this past Thursday, the morning after my last day of school, however Thursday and Friday were spent driving all over NJ and trekking in and out of Manhattan visiting specialists via my doctors orders and thus not basking in the glories of summer vacay.

Have I mentioned that I'm pregnant? No? Oh yeah, that's right - I haven't been blogging for the past few months because I've been too nauseous/exhausted/hormonal/mentally tapped to do so.

My first trimester sucked the life out of me in a cruel and almost sadistic way but hey - I hear I get a baby out of it in the end and that it will all be worth it.... hmm - kind of hard to believe after the horrific transabdominal CVS I experienced Friday at 90th and Madison, but I'll take people's word for it.

The results of the FISH test come back today and after seeing the results of my Nuchal first hand, I must admit that I'm not worried: the fold measurement was 1.7, my hCG was normal, but my PAPP-A was below average - the cut off mark is .38 and mine was .32 - and that, combined with my age, put me in the "at risk" category. That damn PAPP-A is responsible for making me endure a needle plunging up and down into my abdomen for over a minute but hey, it's over now and if it affords me reassurance that I'm growing a healthy babe, well then so be it.

The consolation is that not only do I find out about my baby's health today, I also get to find out its gender! Needless to say, I am ridiculously excited but not as excited as I am to find out that my Bebe LaPointe is healthy!

Cross fingers!