Wednesday, January 07, 2004

Plumbing problems

Let me tell you something about renting. It sucks. I constantly have this feeling of walking on eggshells, trying not to mess anything up or break anything. But when you've got kids, it's inevitable. I can only hope my landlord can remember back to when HIS kids were young & can have a sense of humor about it.
My landlord was here yesterday with his plumber nephew for 3 hours trying to fix our upstairs & half bath toilets. Apparently, there were a few toys stuck down there & that's what was causing all the problems. Who knew such a tiny thing could wreak that much havoc on the pipes? My landlord comes out from underneath the house with something in his hand, going "Do you recognize this?" All I could do was just smile & say, "Kids". Oh well, it's fixed now & thank goodness, cause I was tired of having to go down into the basement at 3am to use the facilities. That's no easy feat on my part at this stage of the pregnancy game. Oh, and the kitchen sink started acting up. I was trying to figure out how on earth the problems could be connected, thinking it was impossible, and I was right. They weren't related. Good thing. With all the things going wrong with this house, it makes me long for the days when all I had to do was call Navy housing & have THEM come & fix it. If I could only get the housing without all the military hangups that go along with it.
I had a baby check-up yesterday. Everything's going well. Still going to have my ultrasound in about a month, when I'm around 30 weeks. I get to do the ever-so-fun glucose test in 3 weeks. For those of you not in the know, that when they make a pregnant woman drink 8 ounces of sugary sweet liquid, then make her wait an hour to take her blood, to make sure she doesn't have Gestational Diabetes. Imagine soda, but without the carbonated water. I think I preferred the orange flavored one when I was pregnant with Emma. I wonder if they'll have more choices this time around. Maybe grape would be nice.
I'm still continuing my physical therapy 3 times a week. I took Emma with me this morning. They had some toys for her to play with. She seemed genuinely concerned that the physical therapist was hurting me. It was really sweet. I think this is a standard, first child personality trait. To be a worry-wart. I know that Jeff & I tend to have that problem a lot. We're constantly worried about something. Maybe him a little more than me, but just look at my phone bill & how many times a month I call my mother & then maybe it's a little more even.
I have officially renamed the state of Michigan to "Frozen Tundra". The weather the past 2 days has been horrific. Not because we've gotten a lot of snow, but because of the temperatures. I believe the high yesterday was around 8 degrees, with the wind chill (that was there constantly) making it feel like it was 10 BELOW ZERO. It's only slightly warmer today. Oh it's great fun trying to thaw your face out after walking the short 200 feet from the grocery store door to your car. You constantly feel like you're being slapped with a frozen fish.
I finally bought a baby book & a baby name book the other day. I was all excited about it. I immediately wanted to start putting information into the baby book, only to find out that I really don't know much. I haven't been keeping track of my weight each week (and that information shouldn't even be IN a baby book), I don't know the sex, I bought the name book to figure out names, so I don't have anything to write in there, and I haven't had a baby shower yet. All I could do was write our family tree. So, that will have to wait a few more weeks until I have some more information. And speaking of names, I love my husband, but I'm kinda glad he wasn't here when I had this internal debate when I was pregnant with Emma. He teases me about this all the time, but in truth, he had no say over what I was going to name her. I really didn't even give him a chance. He was out to sea, I was here, I figured, it was my decision. So now, he's taking a much more active role in it, although he's rejecting practically every name a throw at him. He doesn't like simple names, and he doesn't want anything that the poor kid will keep having to spell to people, and we've already decided that we're not having any ex's names. Couple all that with how many people we know & all their kids & trying not to duplicate any names so there's no confusion & we're left with about 4. For each sex. All that, and we still have to make sure it sounds good with our last name. It's a tall order. But that's why I bought the book, to figure all this out. So hopefully we won't be naming our kid after the street sign by the hospital as a last resort.

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