A tale of two ovens

Okay, be honest.  Which of these would you rather have in your kitchen?  The old, beige oven from circa 1980, or the brand-new, stainless steel, flat-top, self-cleaning oven from, well, NOW.

Well, imagine this.  As previously mentioned yesterday, I am incredibly spoiled.  Remember when I destroyed our oven with the penis cookies for Chad and Teresa's housewarming?  Well, it was the oven on the LEFT.  The old, nasty oven that should be pushed straight to the curb.  And guess which oven we somehow acquired for a mere $25?  That would be the oven to the RIGHT, which Nate and Gary installed yesterday.  Now I can't wait to bake anything and everything, and I can just imagine how fabulous it will all be.

BABY SHOWER!!!

I am one spoiled girl.
Last night we had our big couples baby shower, and I felt so incredibly loved.  It's amazing, too, to think how much Milo is already loved, even though no one has ever seen him.  But my sisters and my friends went out of their ways to make last night perfect in every single way, and I could hardly sleep last night thinking about it.

First of all, there was food upon food upon food.  Soups and salads, some of my favorites!  Potato soup, broccoli and cheese soup, creamy wild rice soup, chili, tortilla soup...  Am I forgetting something?  And then Mexican salad, strawberry and spinach salad, regular salad, broccoli salad...  Plus tons of bread (which I love), a cheese ball with crackers (actually, two balls, made by Ann, if you want to be specific, and she had quite an interesting idea for the arrangement given the fact that Milo is a boy...), not one but two chocolate fountains with fruit, marshmallows, pretzels, etc.  There was almond tea and cappuccino punch.  I fully intended to spend the entire shower doing nothing but eating, but then there were the gifts...

More gifts than I could possibly know what to do with.  And the best part was that each gift contained a book to build up Milo's library, which as you know, I feel is more important than even diapers.  He is going to be so smart, and so well dressed, based on all the fabulous cute outfits we received!  Plus I was so concerned about getting our stroller/car seat set, and as soon as we walked in, there it was, right next to the cake table.  What amazing hostesses!!!

The kids (for whom there was child care, by the way) spent time decorating onesies for Milo (pictures to follow - beyond cute).  Each guest wrote a letter to Milo, which I will treasure for the rest of my life.  And let me just tell you, the number of people who came to celebrate with us was astounding.  I was so glad to have so many of my friends and family all together to celebrate our precious peanut.  If only I could just figure out a way for Milo to get here without me actually giving birth, life would be perfect!

Now excuse me. I have a lifetime of thank you cards to write, and I sincerely mean each and every one.

The joys of pregnant teaching

If I can teach an entire semester really pregnant, I can do anything.  And I can endure any comment.  For example:
"Ms. Jackson, I love your shirt.  It's so pretty, and it makes you look HUGE."
How does one respond to such a comment?  It's definitely a lesson in holding my tongue and using some tact...

I also tend to feel like a circus exhibit or a science project, as I have my students and random ones popping in to look at me and to try to feel my tummy.  Although it's not as awkward as I thought it would be, I still have some random moments of panic when I feel like if anyone else tries to touch me, I might lose my mind.

I was trying to remember if I ever had a pregnant teacher when I was in school, and the answer is NO.  How might I have reacted?  With tons of questions?  With casual indifference?  With delight when she left for maternity leave? 

Yesterday I taught my girls to diagram participles, on a curved line, and they said, "LOOK!  It's a pregnant tummy!!!  Ooooooh, Ms. Jackson.  We love diagramming these!"  It got even better when we diagrammed participles as predicate adjectives, which are the curved lines on a little stand with two legs.  Imagine their delight...  "Ms. Jackson - it's YOU!  A big pregnant tummy on two skinny legs!"

At least I got a nice compliment on my legs?

Partial nudity only

Now tell me this...
How many of you would want to give birth completely stark naked?  Anyone?  Anyone?
If you answered yes, let me know so that I can publicly call you crazy on my blog.

Because I went to birthing class last night, and the video they showed featured some very, (ahem), natural-type mothers. I believe the nurse referred to them as "earthy girls, the kind who'd squat beside a tree."  But each and every one of them was as naked as the day she was born.  Think about it.  Does anyone need to see a naked pregnant woman for any reason?  Childbirth is disturbing enough without having to see every last scrap of skin on the woman in labor.  People, it's not pretty!  Seriously, when I see myself after I get out of the shower, I even blush a little.  It's uncomfortable!!!

I was absolutely, utterly mortified that I would have to be buck-naked giving birth.  Forget the whole squeezing a watermelon out a tiny opening thing.  The nakedness was the worst thought of the night, even worse than when I was horribly startled by the sight of a baby literally coming out of a, well, you can imagine...  I can handle a lot of things, including an incredible amount of pain, but doing it naked?  That's absolutely too much.

Thank goodness the nurse informed us that this was not the norm, and that they would do everything they could to preserve at least a shred of our modesty (believe me, I already know the extent to which I'll be exposed, and I'm not happy about it).  Because I think I almost cried right then and there.  I would do anything, and I do mean anything, to not be naked.  The world and everyone in it can do without that sneak peek, especially now.

A BIG baby

So I went to the doctor yesterday, and he told me that Milo is getting big.  In fact, he said it several times, in a very serious voice.  Now, common sense might lead you to ask, "How big?"  Unfortunately, I was so panicked by that statement, I forgot to even ask what that meant.  Visions of episiotomies and mandatory c-sections were going through my head, and I lost all sense of common sense.  It happens.

And then I asked if it was still okay for me to travel to the conference at which I was supposed to present next week.  The doctor looked at me and said, as serious as could be, "What happens if your water breaks while you're there?  What would you do?"  

To which I replied, "Um, it's not supposed to break until December 21st, right?"

In other words, no, I won't be presenting at the conference.  I will be sitting on my giant bum eating ice cream drumsticks and watching The Biggest Loser (it's ironic how those two things go together, eh?)

Now it seems like everyone I come across needs to tell me how big I am, and every time someone does, I think, "Well, you just have no idea.  But please, dear Lord, let Milo be small.  And let him stay put a little longer."

Just a few random thoughts

One night this weekend, I dreamed that Milo was born, and so adorable, but with a full-blown mullet.  A mullet!  In my dream, I was holding my precious little newborn up on my shoulder and telling Nate, "You have to cut this mullet before anyone sees it!"  lol.  With all the indigestion I've been having, I'm definitely expecting a full head of hair, but let's hope it's a head full of cute hair!

I'm also wondering if being pregnant with a boy is making Nate and I change.  Because something very strange is happening...  We're becoming a little bit sporty.  As in, we've been to more professional sporting events since I've been pregnant than we have in our entire marriage. As in, we've been watching sports on tv.  As in, yesterday we watched both the Cowboys and the Rangers play, and we were passionate about both games.  Needless to say, yesterday was not a great day for Texas sports.  

Nursery overhaul

We did it, we did it, we DID IT!  We finished painting Milo's nursery, with these fabulous murals on the two side walls. 

Nate and April drew the airplanes, Nate drew the train, and we all participated in the painting.  In fact, Nate and I were painting for what felt like two solid days.  But looking at the finished product, I am completely delighted.  It turned out even better than I could have imagined!

Nate drew this one, and I spent a lot of time painting the basic stuff.  Then Nate went back and worked his magic and made the whole thing come to life.  He astounds me.

April did this plane - she and Nate are ridiculous!  We ended up painting the faces on both of the little guys, basically because the green faces looked a bit like Martians.  In the next pic, you should be able to tell that their faces are now a peachy-color.





Here are both planes, flying right behind Milo's crib.  Nate had to carefully angle the larger one so it didn't look like it was coming in for a crash-landing on top of Milo. He was really concerned about that!

All aboard the Milo train!  This wall is across from the wall with the planes and crib.  Believe it or not, the orange on this baby took no fewer than 10 coats of paint.  AHHHHHH!!!!