I should start this post by saying that I won't be offended if you want to step away from my blog for the next few weeks. I know I'm being whiny. I know deep down that I'm lucky and my discomforts are minor and temporary. But this is my blog, and therefore this is where I whine.
Today's appointment was an odd one, mostly because it was the first one I've taken MJ to. And because I had an internal exam that I forgot about. I always try to shower for those. Oops.
The appointment started with me peeing in a cup. I find it odd that my midwife practice makes me do this at every appointment. Is this normal for other folks? During MJ's pregnancy (in a completely different office) I remember maybe once or twice being checked for protein. I can't help but think this is just a ratcheting up of health care costs with unnecessary tests.
MJ was pretty fascinated by the concept of peeing in a cup. She was only willing to go potty afterwards if I promised her that she did not have to pee in a cup.
The exam was fine, and thankfully MJ listened and sat in the chair (next to my head) for the actual exam. I'm not too worried about traumatizing her, but I'm certain she would share whatever she learned with anyone who will listen at the 4th of July party, thus traumatizing me. Mostly she just liked that it was an actual doctor's office, with an examining table, stethoscope, etc., just like in her books.
I'm up 41.5 pounds, which is half a pound in the last two weeks. A much more respectable weight gain than the rest of my pregnancy, thankfully. Furthermore, I'm 75% effaced and "baby is really low". The midwife didn't use any words like engaged, etc., but kept reiterating that she was really low, asking if I felt like she was low. I have been wondering this, given the random (and crippling) shooting pains in my pelvis. It doesn't really feel like she dropped, because my belly seems to be in the same place. But hearing this makes me at least feel like I'm not crazy for feeling like I'm so close. I realize that these numbers don't really mean anything, I could still deliver at 42 weeks, but that's progress I don't have to worry about making later.
I am entering the bitching stage of pregnancy (I may have been in it for a while). I am not a glowing pregnant lady. Until recently I've at least been a happy pregnant lady, but I'm past that, too. I've been whining a lot. And grumbling a lot. About the heat. About pelvic pain. About peeing ALLTHETIME. About round ligament pain, which is much worse than last time around. Probably because I had so much back and hip pain I was largely immobile (in that I simply didn't move) and didn't have the opportunity for the weight of my belly to be a problem.
I know this is nature's way of making us glad for the approaching discomfort that is labor and having a newborn. When labor was done last time, I recall thinking how much better that was than pregnancy. Having a newborn seemed so much more pleasant than being pregnant. But labor and newbornhood is tough, so late pregnancy HAS to suck this much or we wouldn't feel this way.
I've discussed this theory of mine with other women. I don't think most of them agree.
In other news, our mice are back. Aren't they supposed to be living outside in the Minnesota summer while they can? Also, our dining room lights no longer work and our third floor shower leaks into my daughter's bedroom. I love having a 109 year old house.
Showing posts with label wish I had your problems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wish I had your problems. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
I'm still wearing pants.
I had decided weeks ago (a month maybe?) that I was done with pants. When the belly gets big enough, there are simply no pants that are comfortable enough. I tried some full panel this time around, but they just make my belly itch.
But this morning it snowed. And last week it was cold, so I'm still wearing pants. We had a tease of nice weather (it's really still nicer than usual) that inspired a garden, but the beans appear to be goners and after the predicted frosts this week the peas might be as well. I knew I might be jumping the gun, but that's how it goes. I'm more sad about still wearing pants and having no winter coats that fit around my belly than I am about the vegetable loss.
I did finish that bed. I'll post pictures at some point. And we had a lovely visit from family, more on that at some point, too. But really, for the past week, I've been all consumed with taxes. And van shopping. Nothing makes you sound like more of an adult than saying "Sorry I don't have time to party with you, but I've been busy with taxes and shopping for a minivan."
I'm happy to report that both are finished. The taxes this year were scary. If there was a time for us to become republicans, this would have been the year and the season. But if this didn't do it then likely nothing will. Not only did we buy a new house, but we had a big jump in income, DH helped start a new business, we converted a house into a rental and we have to file in two states. I thought of hiring someone else, but by the time I told them everything they needed to know and tracked down all the documents I just did it myself. The two state thing is frustrating, too. We make the majority of our income in Wisconsin, because that's DH's place of employment. Minnesota has reciprocity, meaning they credit what we pay to Wisconsin for what we owe them. But it's frustrating, because Wisconsin gets 90% of our state taxes despite the fact that we live in and use the services of Minnesota exclusively. Doesn't this seem stupid to anyone else? That's all I'll say about taxes. That part of being an adult is done for the year.
As for the minivan, that part of being an adult is just starting. We pick up the new wheels tomorrow. Here she is:
If you look close you can see MJ inside. We are even getting a remote starter installed (Oh! Hold me back!) so it really is my dream-mobile. We went into the car hunt thinking we'd get a mid-size three row SUV. Why three rows? Because we have family visit a lot and don't want to have to rely on two cars every time. And because we tend to keep our cars for decades, and want the option to haul our children's friends around. And maybe even squeeze another of our own children in there if we still feel like it.
But may I inform you the problem with 3 row suv's? You can't get to the back row unless you fold the second row back. Which you can't do with a carseat installed. So you climb over the seats? Or take the seat out? Ugh. The practicality of the van almost immediately won us over. Except that it's a van. And we have still-so-many biases to overcome on minivans. But we'll get there, I have no doubt.
Oh yeah, the 24 week update.
Hmm.. Weight gain (at least when that picture was taken): 21 lbs.
Kicks: all the time. DH has felt them a few times.
Names: We're not telling. I finally got hubs to have the discussion. He was using delay tactics to avoid having the conversation. His last delay tactic finally expired (I want to wait until viability!). I have no doubt that MJ will relay to everyone whatever we decide, even if we try to keep it a secret.
Other than that, still feeling good. Hips get a little sore during walks, and I find myself just overall a bit more tired. I feel a little more uncomfortable ordering a latte at a coffee shop being as I'm so clearly pregnant. Surprisingly, though, I've had very few stranger comments.
Other than the man at Menard's. Last week I fixed the toilet and bathroom door in our rental house. I was at the Hardware store buying some supplies, when an old man shouted "EH? You building something there?" Clearly I thought he was talking about the toilet parts I held in my hand. So I made some awkward comment about rebuilding a toilet, only to realize he meant in my belly. Weird. (Pretty proud of my handyman abilities, though, and happy to report that our renters have decided to stay. The alternative was they move out when their lease expires on August 1, my due date.)
Thursday, February 23, 2012
An uncouth post about money
I thought these decisions had been made. I am a working mom. I have found balance by working only 30 hrs a week. I have some schedule flexibility to take care of my daughter when she's ill or watch her kick a soccer ball. All in all, things are pretty good. I get to use my brain again. I get to have an identity separate from my husband and my children. But I still get to be there.
But now, 1.5 months into a new job, it's all in question again. I did that pesky math that I mentioned in my last post, and realized that by me continuing to work, if everything else stays unchanged, I will be $7,000 in the hole once we add baby #2 to the mix. This is primarily for two reasons. 1) My husband makes a lot more than I do, so my salary essentially gets taxed at his rate, which means that my take home pay is quite a bit lower than it otherwise would be, and 2) Daycare costs in this city are astronomical. I did this math before I started back to work, after I found out I was pregnant, but didn't properly account for the tax portion.
My daughter is currently in a daycare center, and it's actually on the lower end of cost as far as centers go, but still quite a lot compared to other geographical locations. We could move her to an in home day care, but I've never found one I feel comfortable with, and I've always been more comfortable with the idea of a center. Maybe this is based on my personal inadequacies. Because when I watch a young child all day, I sometimes get cranky and impatient. When there are other people (i.e. dear husband) I can step away for a moment if I need to collect myself. In home daycare providers don't have that option. So while they may be wonderful, doesn't everyone have their moments? I have a hard time getting comfortable with an environment that doesn't have any backup for the providers, and for which there is essentially no oversight. I know there are wonderful places out there, I'm certainly not accusing anyone, that's just how I feel.
After pondering the possibility of returning home full time, I find myself not fond of the idea. For a whole lot of reasons. If I could leave temporarily, for a couple years, and know I could return to the work force, I'd probably do it, even though it's isolating and sometimes mind-numbing. But what if I can't find a job I like? Or that works for us? This 30 hours a week gig is perfect, I'm skeptical I'd find another such opportunity doing something I like. There just aren't a whole lot of Geochemists in the world, sadly. And not an overwhelming need for more.
Let me bore you with a little more math. The $7,000 figure is probably a bit lower, because that doesn't account for retirement benefits (which would bring the number closer to $4500) and other benefits, most of which we don't need because we get them through DH's employer. But it also doesn't account for things like parking fees, or the costs of keeping a child home (including more outings). These numbers add some fuzz to the $7,000 number, but it's a rough estimate.
So now I need to come up with a solution. Something I can sleep with at night, because paying $7,000 a year for the right to go to work doesn't sit easy with me. I have to ask, if you feel comfortable talking about it, what would be your breaking point? At what point would you throw in the towel and say "Enough! I'm staying home!" Do you worry about losing skills and not being employable? Do you worry about not being financially independent and relying on your spouse? That last question is poignant for me. As a child of divorce, I remember a few lessons about keeping financial independence that stuck with me. (I appreciate those lessons, Mom). I don't currently worry about this, but it happens to a lot of unsuspecting women, and I want to have the option for self-reliance. But how do you balance that with the realities of having small children that need you around?
But now, 1.5 months into a new job, it's all in question again. I did that pesky math that I mentioned in my last post, and realized that by me continuing to work, if everything else stays unchanged, I will be $7,000 in the hole once we add baby #2 to the mix. This is primarily for two reasons. 1) My husband makes a lot more than I do, so my salary essentially gets taxed at his rate, which means that my take home pay is quite a bit lower than it otherwise would be, and 2) Daycare costs in this city are astronomical. I did this math before I started back to work, after I found out I was pregnant, but didn't properly account for the tax portion.
My daughter is currently in a daycare center, and it's actually on the lower end of cost as far as centers go, but still quite a lot compared to other geographical locations. We could move her to an in home day care, but I've never found one I feel comfortable with, and I've always been more comfortable with the idea of a center. Maybe this is based on my personal inadequacies. Because when I watch a young child all day, I sometimes get cranky and impatient. When there are other people (i.e. dear husband) I can step away for a moment if I need to collect myself. In home daycare providers don't have that option. So while they may be wonderful, doesn't everyone have their moments? I have a hard time getting comfortable with an environment that doesn't have any backup for the providers, and for which there is essentially no oversight. I know there are wonderful places out there, I'm certainly not accusing anyone, that's just how I feel.
After pondering the possibility of returning home full time, I find myself not fond of the idea. For a whole lot of reasons. If I could leave temporarily, for a couple years, and know I could return to the work force, I'd probably do it, even though it's isolating and sometimes mind-numbing. But what if I can't find a job I like? Or that works for us? This 30 hours a week gig is perfect, I'm skeptical I'd find another such opportunity doing something I like. There just aren't a whole lot of Geochemists in the world, sadly. And not an overwhelming need for more.
Let me bore you with a little more math. The $7,000 figure is probably a bit lower, because that doesn't account for retirement benefits (which would bring the number closer to $4500) and other benefits, most of which we don't need because we get them through DH's employer. But it also doesn't account for things like parking fees, or the costs of keeping a child home (including more outings). These numbers add some fuzz to the $7,000 number, but it's a rough estimate.
So now I need to come up with a solution. Something I can sleep with at night, because paying $7,000 a year for the right to go to work doesn't sit easy with me. I have to ask, if you feel comfortable talking about it, what would be your breaking point? At what point would you throw in the towel and say "Enough! I'm staying home!" Do you worry about losing skills and not being employable? Do you worry about not being financially independent and relying on your spouse? That last question is poignant for me. As a child of divorce, I remember a few lessons about keeping financial independence that stuck with me. (I appreciate those lessons, Mom). I don't currently worry about this, but it happens to a lot of unsuspecting women, and I want to have the option for self-reliance. But how do you balance that with the realities of having small children that need you around?
Sunday, February 19, 2012
The Glamorous Life
I say that in gest, but I've certainly been getting dressed up a lot lately. My only remotely comfortable heels are red, so I've been rocking the black dress/red shoes look. The above pic is at 16 1/2 weeks. I must say, this time around the weeks have just been flying by. I've been busy enough to be distracted. But I think, more than that, I feel more comfortable with my existing knowledge and am not obsessively reading and learning about pregnancy and childbirth. I'm just living my normal life, and the weeks slip by.
Last night we went to a Gala. This word always makes me pause, because there are two correct pronunciations to choose from, as well as the incorrect pronunciation I have to stop myself from using. So we went to a Gay-la last night, for the fire department. This one seemed to be a bigger deal than the others we've been to lately, simply because Senator Klobuchar and Governor Dayton, as well as our mayor, Chris Coleman, all decided to show up. I'm not sure what about this event was so significant to them, but it was a little weird to see them all in one place. Not that you all care about my political thoughts, but I was incredibly unimpressed by the Governor. I guess this is just personal distaste, as he didn't "do" anything bad, but he was such a politician and seemed to lack depth (in full disclosure, I didn't vote for him, though I do generally agree with his politics). The senator, too, was obviously in campaign mode. Both of them talked more about themselves than about the benefit they were at or why the firefighters should be honored. It was all about them. The mayor, though, struck the right tone. Said the right things. Maybe because he actually feels invested in the fire department? It was weird to be at a function where everyone was honoring St. Paul fire fighters, but no one actually lives in the city. I don't think I met anyone else who actually lives in St. Paul, most of them live in the suburbs or further. I felt gratitude to them, and I'm certain it's different if you don't live here. Knowing that these are the guys that will show up on your doorstep if you call 9-1-1 can't help but make you feel a little more indebted.
Last night, while sitting at dinner, I felt my first "interrupting" kicks. In general I feel what can only be described as "rustling"; like something is happening, but it's indistinct. Last week while lying in bed I felt actual movement, but nothing distinct since then. Then, while talking at dinner, I felt three distinct taps in my abdomen. Maybe baby will be political?
At some point I owe you all a work post. Having started a new job and changing our entire routine, it seems worth mentioning, doesn't it? In truth, it's been a bit boring. I like my coworkers, and I feel that in time it will get better, but right now I'm just writing a report. All day, every day, and there's not a lot to say about that. I think once I get involved in more projects, I will come to like it better. I think, too, I just continue to question my decision. I find myself wishing I could spend more time with MJ, and missing her. But I remind myself that before, I found myself not enjoying my time with her, and being short with her. Now when I'm with her, I'm happy to see her and she gets patient-me. If I'm not capable of being patient and loving all day as a stay-at-home-mom, maybe this is the better option?
I also get a bit frustrated that such a large chunk of my day just goes to getting MJ to daycare and home from daycare; it's an incredible time sink. It feels better now that I'm not playing solo parent (DH had a rough work stretch) but the math is still frustrating. The other frustrating math came while doing our taxes. I fear, if I really sat down to calculate it, that I'm paying to work. Nothing saps your motivation to go to work quite like realizing the salary portion doesn't even matter. And with kiddo #2? It will become even more disturbing. In some sense I'm lucky to have that as an issue, but there are times when not having a choice is nice, because it doesn't make you question your decision. It simply is what it is. I know this falls under the category of "wish I had your problems", but it still weighs on me. I feel like so many women I know claim that, if they could afford to, they would stay home in a heartbeat. I often wonder if that's really true. If they were truly faced with that decision, what would they choose?
Last night we went to a Gala. This word always makes me pause, because there are two correct pronunciations to choose from, as well as the incorrect pronunciation I have to stop myself from using. So we went to a Gay-la last night, for the fire department. This one seemed to be a bigger deal than the others we've been to lately, simply because Senator Klobuchar and Governor Dayton, as well as our mayor, Chris Coleman, all decided to show up. I'm not sure what about this event was so significant to them, but it was a little weird to see them all in one place. Not that you all care about my political thoughts, but I was incredibly unimpressed by the Governor. I guess this is just personal distaste, as he didn't "do" anything bad, but he was such a politician and seemed to lack depth (in full disclosure, I didn't vote for him, though I do generally agree with his politics). The senator, too, was obviously in campaign mode. Both of them talked more about themselves than about the benefit they were at or why the firefighters should be honored. It was all about them. The mayor, though, struck the right tone. Said the right things. Maybe because he actually feels invested in the fire department? It was weird to be at a function where everyone was honoring St. Paul fire fighters, but no one actually lives in the city. I don't think I met anyone else who actually lives in St. Paul, most of them live in the suburbs or further. I felt gratitude to them, and I'm certain it's different if you don't live here. Knowing that these are the guys that will show up on your doorstep if you call 9-1-1 can't help but make you feel a little more indebted.
Last night, while sitting at dinner, I felt my first "interrupting" kicks. In general I feel what can only be described as "rustling"; like something is happening, but it's indistinct. Last week while lying in bed I felt actual movement, but nothing distinct since then. Then, while talking at dinner, I felt three distinct taps in my abdomen. Maybe baby will be political?
At some point I owe you all a work post. Having started a new job and changing our entire routine, it seems worth mentioning, doesn't it? In truth, it's been a bit boring. I like my coworkers, and I feel that in time it will get better, but right now I'm just writing a report. All day, every day, and there's not a lot to say about that. I think once I get involved in more projects, I will come to like it better. I think, too, I just continue to question my decision. I find myself wishing I could spend more time with MJ, and missing her. But I remind myself that before, I found myself not enjoying my time with her, and being short with her. Now when I'm with her, I'm happy to see her and she gets patient-me. If I'm not capable of being patient and loving all day as a stay-at-home-mom, maybe this is the better option?
I also get a bit frustrated that such a large chunk of my day just goes to getting MJ to daycare and home from daycare; it's an incredible time sink. It feels better now that I'm not playing solo parent (DH had a rough work stretch) but the math is still frustrating. The other frustrating math came while doing our taxes. I fear, if I really sat down to calculate it, that I'm paying to work. Nothing saps your motivation to go to work quite like realizing the salary portion doesn't even matter. And with kiddo #2? It will become even more disturbing. In some sense I'm lucky to have that as an issue, but there are times when not having a choice is nice, because it doesn't make you question your decision. It simply is what it is. I know this falls under the category of "wish I had your problems", but it still weighs on me. I feel like so many women I know claim that, if they could afford to, they would stay home in a heartbeat. I often wonder if that's really true. If they were truly faced with that decision, what would they choose?
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