Let the Countdown Begin

Last week, at the doctor's office, we got to schedule our C-Section appointment. So, how long do I have left? Well . . .

* I have 28 times left to drive to and from work wondering if today will be the day that I pee my pants in traffic.

* I have 21 more nights where I have to wake up too hot and then minutes later, wake up too cold.

* I have 14 more working days to restrain from punching the next person in the nose who asks me a stupid question or talks about how "huge" I've gotten since I've become pregnant.

* I have 5 more billboards to pass on my way home from work that need to expire.

* I have 4 more times that I have to bend over to clean that stinkin' spot behind the toilet, under the table, in the crack of the shower, etc.

* I have 3 more youth Sunday School lessons to prepare while trying not to envision suffocating the kids by sitting on them with my body mass.

* I have 2 more times to refill my Zofran prescription and listen to the pharmacists lovingly call me "preggers" and ask if this week was a little better than last week.

* I have 1 1/2 packages of 12-roll toilet paper to go through.

February 10th at 7:30 am cannot come fast enough! After that, I think I'm going to begin scheduling appointments for my OCD issue that I seem to have developed.

SHH, Be Still

It's morning time on Christmas Eve. Shhh, I finally have time to blog about the Christmas season. Mollee is actually awake, but she is refusing to get out of bed, and hey, I'm not going to push her!

Normally, we have a tradition of going out to Vernal to the Uintah Mountains to cut the most odd-looking Christmas tree from the tallest peak and haul it back to our house. I have been doing this since I was a wee child and my innocent little brothers would throw snowballs at me every time my parents were "searching" for the perfect tree. Ah, brings back memories of long, long car rides, singing perfectly in tune "shut your trap" to each other, and steaming hot chocolate mugs begin whacked upside our heads . . . all to end up in a very silent sobbing night. Who wouldn't want to miss that?

Well, everyone did. My sister refused to go because she's in the "teen I'm too cool for this" phase and both of my bros just absolutely said no. Unfortunately, I didn't want to haul my 7 month pregnant body up and over mountain after mountain, so . . . Jon, Mollee, and I decided to do the next best thing . . . find a tree at Smith's Marketplace.

Jon still pretended to cut down the tree and we warmed up inside the store. Cozy 106.5 was there and Mollee spun the wheel and won a pony movie.

Later this month, Mollee got to go have dinner with Santa at the Zoo Lights. Why is it that other children want items that Santa can afford like gum ball machines, toy dolls, etch-a-sketch while my kid asks Santa for a $200 talking Barbie house and a big toy (she means bike)?

This month has been filled with family, parties, fun, hard work (we're working on moving Mollee to a new room and revamping her room for the baby), and of course, doctor's appointments (3 this month). Time is marching on and it's almost a new year. The Frazier's want to wish you guys (if Aimee is saying it) or y'all (if Jon is saying it) a safe and happy holiday season.

Tryptophan Thanksgiving

Our Thanksgiving was pretty much a yawner for us, however, my brother and his wife suprised us with having their baby girl, Nora, two weeks early. They had her via c-section on November 20th and were in the hospital for Thanksgiving. It seemed like the show just couldn't get going without them and I totally forgot to bring my camera to get a good pic. Ugh, onto Christmas . . .

Chunky Monkey

So, yesterday when I went to the doctor, I walked in confidently thinking that the doctor was going to say, “Congratulations, you are just one week away from entering the third and final trimester! I’m glad that you’re still alive.” Instead I heard, Aimee, you’re fat.

Okay, so the doctor didn’t say it quite in those terms. What she said was, “It looks like for the last two appointments your weight has spiked. Normally, we like to see a gain of 1 pound per week. You are about 4 lbs over that – total.”

This is what went through Jon’s head, “Man, I’m glad that I’m not the patient. Thanks for taking one for the team, Aim.”

This is what went through my head, “Are you serious? Do you know that I’m pregnant? Do you know that I’ve been sick and lost 6 pounds in the first two months? Maybe I can cut out the donut that I eat for breakfast in the mornings. Did you even look at my history chart before telling me this? Maybe it is true that you gain more on subsequent pregnancies. Is it too late to change doctors to get a second opinion? Maybe I’ll up my workouts from one walk around the lake at my work to two. How many pregnant women actually stay within the ‘averages?’ Okay, so I can forgo the cheese on my baked potato for lunches (but I’m not willing to sacrifice the sour cream.) Are you even supposed to lose weight when you’re pregnant? What am I supposed to do with this info? The once a week ice cream night is definitely out. Why did my doc have to tell me this two weeks before Thanksgiving?”

Jon had to try to do damage control the entire way home from the doctor’s office. He did a pretty good job with his pep talk. Then he dropped me off at home and headed to work. I . . . . worked out. Now my leg hurts and I’m even more hungry than I was before.

Don’t I deserve a break . . . after all, I am pregnant! Hello!!

Mollee searched costume after costume. She passed on the princesses; she passed on the fairies; she stopped at the cow. What a cute cow she made. We met Tinkerbell at my brother, Darin's, work the day before Halloween. Mollee partied all day on Friday at daycare and ate her fill of cupcakes. By the time we were ready to go trick or treating on Saturday, my little cow was exhausted. She went to house after house for about 45 minutes before turning to Jon and saying, "Daddy, this cow is tired." She came home and wanted to give all of her candy to the trick or treaters that showed up at our house. What a kind little cow!!

Forgiveness

Every day, on my way home from work, I have to drive past a billboard with a familiar face plastered all over it. This person that owns this face hurt me when I was younger. She doesn't know it, nor would she likely remember my name, but I have hated her for years.

Jon told me that he would do anything to make me feel better, including dressing up in all black, buying a bunch of spray paint, and assisting me in climbing up the ladder to that billboard to vandalize it in any manner that I would like.

I laughed, then I read this book. You never truly know what others pasts are. You never know why people say or do the things that they do and you may not understand their intentions . . . they may not even understand their own intentions.

Many people have said and done things that have hurt my feelings, but I have really been the only one that has hurt myself because I let myself be angry and only I am to blame for letting myself hold onto grudges. So today, I'm going to work on forgiveness. I'm going to forgive those who have said the wrong thing at the wrong time; I'm going to forgive those that have walked past me when I've hurt, and I'm going to forgive myself for holding on too long. Maybe then, others will forgive me for my ignorance.

Playing Catch-Up

In a way, it's great that time has passed so quickly. I'm happy to say that I am now halfway done being pregnant. I've finally resigned to the fact that I am just not one of those lucky people who love being pregnant. I'm not even one of those people who likes being pregnant!

The good news is that I have felt better this pregnancy than the first go round; the even better news is that we found out that we are having a boy. The ultrasound lady didn't believe me when I started whooping and hollering that this will be my last!! We'll see . . .

I love the fall time. I decided to get all Suzy Homemaker and learn how to can. Jon and I canned our first peaches and pears. The fruit flies have now found new residency with us, but the process actually turned out really well.

My parents have been displaced since April because they had a little disagreement between them and their all too ancient bar-b-que. The bar-b-que finally had it and launched itself up into the rafters of my parents home making the roof an early firework show for the neighbors and the news. They were finally able to return to their house at the end of September. Their house looks beautiful. I'll have to make sure to take some pictures to show.

Now that it is October, we are busy with setting up our extravagent Halloween decor spectacle. Watch out, Jon is thinking of who to kill off this year for his cemetary. We had a blast picking out pumpkins at the pumpkin patch. Jon now wants to be a pumpkin farmer once he retires and Mollee wants to be a tractor driver when she grows up.