Okay Go ahead and make these pictures dirty!!

Really now, people. We honestly, innocently thought that including Tot's "Thumbs Up" picture was just a cute, CLEAN image to share with you all. Who would have thought, as our friend Seth stated in his comment, that the grandmothers-to-be would be the ones to infuse our blog with such "colorful" interpretations of our baby's thumbs up gesture!!

Well, have fun with this next one, that I've titled "Our Alien Baby". I know, it's a little disturbing. But it looks like a healthy skeletal system, doesn't it?

And the other picture, that Nate titled "Kickboxer".



And now, my dreams from last night.
There were so many it's hard to remember them all. But what sticks out is:

It was stormy and my co-worker Susan was driving my car for some reason, and trying to park it in the snow while driving 30 miles an hour, on the street in Sanford where I grew up. Like, she was swerving all over the street and not using the breaks to try to stop - she just figured she'd crash into the snowbank and the car would turn off. But then we were told there was a parking ban because of plowing, so she took off to park my car somewhere else, and there was the sense that if she didn't find a place to park, she'd just drive around till morning. In the meantime, I was standing in the middle of the street wondering where the heck I should go, since I didn't actually LIVE on this street anymore.

Then Nate and I were in the house of friends of ours - his old co-worker Josh and his wife Sarah, who we did actually visit last night, as they just moved to Hallowell and are walking distance from our place. There was a sense that they had invited us over, but then had to leave or something, so we were in their house by ourselves. Then night came, and we noticed someone else was in the house. It was the previous owner, but he was delusional and became angry when he discovered that we were in what he thought was still HIS house - so he came after us and was chasing us, trying to either chase us out of the house, or kill us. But instead of just running away, we were trying to stay in the house, so Josh and Sarah didn't come home to this delusional angry man who would then try to kill them.

Then, and I WISH I was making this up, I dreamed that my mother-in-law was either personally trying to kill me, or had hired someone else to do it, because I had changed my mind about not wanting to know the sex of our baby. I am fully aware that this sounds like a load of you-know-what. But I could not be more serious that I actually dreamt this.

And finally, I dreamed that Nate wrote a blog entry. Just a paragraph, but still. He hadn't told me he was going to do it - I just logged on to write an entry one day, and, buried in one of my lengthy posts, was a paragraph that he had written and slipped in there himself. Novel.

That was all last night. Yes, I am tired in the morning. I am always tired in the morning. I hate mornings. I had never thought about the fact that maybe these dreams are keeping me from restful sleep until I started sharing them with so many people, and being asked so frequently if I feel rested when I wake up, because of these crazy, lengthy, plot-twisted (and just plain twisted) dreams. You may all be on to something there.

Last but not least, I am sending a very Happy 5th Birthday wish to my YOUNGEST sister, Lilo. Nate asked what we got her, and I said, "an e-mail"... because that's what I've been doing for observances and holidays like that on account of her living in a time-zone 8+ hours away. But not for long, as she and a few other key people in my family are moving to the United States in just a few short weeks. How wild it will be for them to live so close to us - and for Tot to have an aunt and uncle who are more like playmates, once our little one gets to be more play-able.

So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LILO!


Nicky and Nate
19 weeks 1 day
canyouevenbelieveit

Drum Roll Please.....

I know our track record with announcements and updates may have lead some of you to have a difficult time taking us seriously, or believing what you're reading (as in the case of the holiday letters in years past). I am fully aware of this as I write the following sentence.

We did NOT find out the sex of the baby today.

I swear to,... well, I swear on,... well, I just swear. We didn't.

Take all the time you need to read the above text over as many times as you need. The blog will still be here.

And when you're ready, the rest of the story:

I found myself nearing this appointment feeling like it was SO EARLY to be finding out this information, and that we had reached almost "half way through this thing" already and I had gotten used to the ambiguity. I have only JUST started to show, and perHAPS started to feel movement. I'm pretty sure it hasn't all been gas. So, to feel like we're just starting the exciting stuff, to "suddenly" get what could feel like HUGE, pregnancy-changing news, was just feeling overwhelming.

My reasons for wanting to know earlier were that, especially because I had been feeling so fine and normal thus far, I felt like knowing the sex would help a.) make the pregnancy feel more "real" to me, and b.) help me "bond" with the baby better with the additional information.

But those reasons have begun to be addressed by: a.) starting to "pop" lately and look more pregnant ( a trip to Old Navy maternity also helped scratch that itch - AND fill a very real need, of course, Dear), and b.) the VERY beginning of feeling movement... it's still at the stage where I'm not sure if it's my imagination, but it will become more and more noticeable in the next few weeks. And if that doesn't make the pregnancy feel more real, and promote bonding, I don't know what would.

If only I could describe the look in Nate's eyes last night when I admitted these self-doubts of my earlier desire. Oh, did he pounce on that. With the help of a couple of gin and tonics. We had an interesting discussion about the whole thing.

So, blame it on me for changing my mind. Or blame it on Nate for not wanting to know the sex in the first place. We apologize for the roller-coaster ride that we have put you all through. Hate mail can be sent via public blog comment, e-mail, or snail mail. ;)

To distract you with a light story, I'll share that I received THE MOST excited reaction ever from a non-family member or friend today: my dental hygenist, Courtney. I think I've been seeing her twice a year for 3 or 4 years now, and of course these cleaning visits include the requisite personal and family updates. Each visit starts out with the question of any new medical updates, so with a big grin I informed her that I was pregnant. Well you should have seen and heard her excitement. I don't know how many times she told me her cheeks were hurting from smiling so much, even when I couldn't see that she was smiling from underneath her face mask.

And let me tell you, carrying on a conversation while getting your teeth cleaned is a feat in and of itself, even when it's just the occassional comment about the weather, holidays, or vacation plans. But to try to talk about a new, first pregnancy with someone who is so excited for you she is literally oozing smiley faces onto your paper dental bib while manipulating metal instruments in your mouth, is really something else. It was so much fun. The more excited she got, the more excited I got. I hadn't even been THAT excited about our pregnancy since... well, anytime I've shared the news with someone new, it's been a nice rush.

My next visit will be in December, when I will be a PARENT (!!!!!), not worrying about scheduling my appointment around my work schedule since I'll be out on maternity leave, but needing to arrange childcare for my dental cleaning. Anyone free on the morning of Wednesday December 19th? Anyone? :)

Courtney was bummed that she wouldn't get to see my growing belly (I know, isn't that the coolest part of any pregnancy?) so I told her I'd bring pictures with me in December. And oh yeah, probably some pics of the tot, too :) But I couldn't help leaving the blog address with her so that she could see the belly pics so far, and read about how much her excitement made my morning. And so she'd finally be mentioned in a blog, since she said she's only appeared once in one of her many friends-with-kids blogs.

Okay, getting back to our appointment today. Once again, everything went well. Which, again, neurotic me is NOT taking for granted.

I'd say our baby summed up the status of things with the VERY FIRST image that appeared on the ultrasound - I swear:


Thumbs up!

Yes, he/she has a healthy body and head and working organs. More pictures next time.
Nicky and Nate
19 weeks

Same Mid-Section, Different Looks

So, I have to say, there are a lot of varying factors that play into how these belly pics come out. As I've been taking these oh-so-cute time lapse photos, for everyone else's enjoyment, and my amazement each time I look at the difference 2 weeks makes, I go through several takes to get the "right one".

There's the consideration of what time of day it is, so that the lighting is ideal. Because using the flash with the lights on is NOT the most flattering setting.
"Flattering?" you just asked in surprise. "Why does a pregnant woman care how her belly pics are coming out? Don't we want to see everything in all its glory??"
Um, No.
Proper lighting is ANYONE's friend when it comes to self-portraits.

Then there's the consideration of what time of day it is in relation to how much I've had to eat already. Seriously. Would you want to take a picture of your stomach right after Thanksgiving meal?? I didn't think so. And I've felt like taking it first thing in the morning, when I'm still feeling relatively petite, would be cheating. So I try to make it mid-day.

Then there's the big issue of proper breathing and consistent muscle engagement. (I do think I still have SOME of those in the region between my shoulders and hips.) I mean, I'm not going to be super-flexed like I indulged myself with at 9 weeks, but I'm not going to do a beer-gut impression, either. And I have to say, the larger I get, and the larger I feel, the less and less inclined I become to do any kind of "flexing". Why bother? So, that is all a lead up to this week's photo:









Compared to 2 weeks ago, below.


As you can see, a fourth issue I've wrestled with lately is what to do with my arms. I know, I know - this has gotten pretty complex hasn't it?


I also wanted to see if I was still able to make a "Flexed" pic, like I did at 9 weeks. Yes, the lines are straighter than above, but there's a bit more content than at 9 weeks.

I considered putting the camera timer on the "2 second" setting instead of the whole "10 seconds" I usually use, to decrease the chance that I pass out while holding my breath for that take. I only did one of those. Thank god it came out the first time.

A pregnancy milestone this week:
On Friday I got my first "Are you pregnant?" inquiry from a stranger. Well, not quite STRANGER, but not someone who would not have known otherwise by hearing from me directly or through the grapevine of family and friends. Yes, the bartender at the Liberal Cup has the honor of being the first to ask me that question, upon serving me a non-alcoholic beer. The past few times we've been there I've ordered a soda, which felt annoying and lame, (I know, I know, it's for a good reason...) and wasn't enough of a flag for to ask anything outright (the horrors, if she was wrong). All I got those times were a surprised and confused look. But a non-alcoholic beer, I mean, come ON.
So, I think I can psychologically graduate to the new phase of exuding the message: "LOOK! I'M SHOWING! MY BELLY IS STICKING OUT AND IT'S NOT JUST THE HUGE BOWL OF MAC AND CHEESE I JUST ATE FOR LUNCH! IT'S MY BABY AND I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT IT!"

All of this is to preface that I simply HAD to capture the "Thanksgiving-Meal-Stomach Look". Just to give you the full range of what my mid-section can do.

I am well aware that I could have kept that gem to myself and only showed you those pretty, soft-lighting profiles, so that you picture my hair up in a bun and running - I mean walking, of course - in a white sundress through a field of wildflowers, basket of flowers in one hand, patting my other hand on my precious "baby-bump" which is slowly but steadily growing. And, of course, growing GRACEfully. But, I'm Nicky, so I don't do many things gracefully.

Note that the most hilarious aspect of this picture, to me, is that I have ECLIPSED the light coming through the window, and that ALL THREE takes in the "Thanksgiving-Meal Stomach Look" series had the same profile-only effect.

What woman would ever want to put a picture of herself like this on the internet besides a pregnant woman?? Or, I should change that to say, Pregnant Nicky?? Because MOST self-respecting women would spare their family and friends these viewings, while keeping their dignity intact. But I think I established a long time ago that dignity is boring, and doesn't inspire people to LOL, if you will. Or write in with comments that inspire me to continue looking at my life, more so than usual, with my beloved "Humor Lenses". These things allow me to see how almost anything could be shared with my nearest and dearest for a laugh.

Nicky and Nate
18 weeks 2 days
Or, "1 week and 5 days from HALF WAY through this thing"
if you want to look at it that way.

Wild Boar Tries to Eat Child

That is the gist of a dream I had the other night.

Background: (yes, there is BACKGROUND to this) I heard part of a news story on the radio on Monday about someone who shot and eventually killed a big boar or pig - and I think the main point of the news story was that the initial media reports said it was a "wild boar", but it was actually someone's very large farm pig, raised for slaughter. And it took several bullets, I guess, to finally kill it. Anyway. I'm sure this was the major contributing factor to why I had the dream that I did.

There was a large wild boar running loose in the woods, and it was really freaky looking. It was huge and hairy and had crooked, long teeth. So a bunch of us were running away from it, and spotted a tree house that we planned to escape into. But somewhere in there I became aware that I had a kid to also shelter from the boar, instead of just myself. There was a sense that he was someone else's kid, and that I was just babysitting, but he was also kind of mine. I don't know. Anyway, so I was trying to say to this, maybe 3 year old kid,"Come on, run this way with me!" because he was just too big for me to carry easily, and climb up into a tree house at the same time. But the kid was resisting, saying he needed his shoes tied before he could run, and they NEEDED to be tied in a certain way, a way that I was not familiar with. And he had the LONGEST shoelaces ever. They were enough for 4 pairs of shoes altogether. So I was trying to do it quickly and quietly, so the boar wouldn't hear us, but also trying to make sure that there were not excess loops of shoelaces that he would catch on roots etc. on the ground. We eventually made it up into the tree house, but the boar somehow climbed up there too, at which point I begged the boar to not eat us, especially because I was babysitting, and whoever the parents were of this kid were going to be really mad if their kid got eaten by a boar on MY watch. Plus, oh yeah, they might have intense grieving as well. But "really mad" was what I was most concerned with at that time. So upon letting us beg for our lives, the boar said to us, "Don't worry, I wasn't going to eat you. I just chase people so everyone will be afraid of me. But I'm fine with eating plants instead. The tricky part will be figuring out how to get down from this tree house."

And then I woke up.

Quick entry. Yeah right.

Finally, the lying can stop. After months of planning, we successfully conspired to surprise my sister (as far as she says) with her bridal shower on Saturday. It was a Hawaiian theme, as they're going to the island of Kauai for their honeymoon - tres exciting. It was a lovely time, complete with Bridal Bingo, Mai Tai punch, and a cake decorated by the mother-of-the-groom to be the islands of Hawaii. With edible blue glitter sprinkles to indicate the ocean, which turned all of our lips and teeth temporarily blue.

It was while visiting at the shower that one of our friends informed me of the association she has with the name Chester, after working for several years the child protective field. And that is, "Chester the Molester"!!! I guess there's not a particular person called Chester the Molester, but there are a number of "Chesters" on the sex offender registry list. Yeah. So what do I do with that information?!? It had never occurred to me. After months of thinking it's such a cute, harmless nickname... I'm not sure I can shake this new association. And if I try to ignore it, and continue to use the name, then this friend, and now all of you, are going to think I'm an awful mother-to-be by knowingly using such an unfortunate nickname. So, maybe we'll use "Tot" as Nate uses from time to time.

I would say he's just as fixated as I am on trying to determine, EVERY DAY, how much bigger I've gotten. We both stare at the belly, at different times of day, at different angles, feel the belly, comment on the belly, etc. Particular outfits make a huge difference, too. He's especially intrigued by how... these are his words: "deep" my belly button is these days. I still don't really know what he's talking about. "Look!" he'll say while I'm laying down. "You could put a whole swimming pool in there!" Whatever. I just think it's cute that he's so fascinated.

I'd say that the stage where I'm at right now, in terms of how I feel physically, can best be described by one sentence in The Girlfiend's Guide to Pregnancy, that says something to the effect of, "You begin your day feeling like your body is just like your normal, pre-pregnancy body; and by the end of the day, you're feeling unmistakably pregnant." There's just such a big range of size in each 24 hour period. That's why the inventor of the elastic waist is my hero these days. Well, that person is in a tie for my hero with the Front Desk Scheduling Lady from my midwife/doctor's office, as noted in the last blog entry.

Exhausting dream night last night:

A nor'easter had hit New England, and it was being compared to the Ice Storm of '98.
It was the first night of it, and people were starting to lose their power. There was the sense that because our pantry was so well-stocked, we wouldn't have to run to the grocery store like everyone else. So we decided to celebrate knowing we'd being locked in our house for several days by going out to eat, and the only place open was a Chinese restaurant. Like on Christmas day in the movie A Christmas Story. Anyway - we were going to walk there, as we do all restaurants here in Hallowell, and I was searching for a pair of mittens for the walk. But I was only seeing single, mismatched mittens in this big basket. The only pair of mittens I could find were old and shabby - not the warmest ones. I forget what I decided on. Side note - a dream last week in which I had to get to work on short notice, and literally got out of bed and grabbed random pieces of clothes, and a handful of shoes. When I got to work, I noticed that out of the 6 shoes I brought with me, I only had ONE matched pair of shoes, and they were not the best fit for the outfit I was wearing. So I begged my supervisor to make a quick trip home to get suitable shoes. Although I ended up determining that they were, in fact, in the SALOON that was in a different part of the building. So I had to go through all these dark hallways, up stairs, past games of billiards being played, etc. Not sure if I found the shoes. ANYWAY.

During the nor'easter, we suddenly discovered there was a separate part of our basement that was totally new (not built in the 1880s like the rest of our house) with high ceilings, well lit, great for storing tons of stuff. And it had a wood stove, so we would make it okay through the ice storm. Another side note: I have this whole category of dreams in which I discover parts of a house that no one else knows about. Sometimes the dimensions are irregular - like having to squeeze through a tiny doorway but then entering a really cool, oversized room. Very Alice in Wonderland. Love it.

So moving on from the nor'easter and houses, I had a fictional friend/aquaintance - we weren't that close- who was threatening to jump off a building to kill herself, and for some reason, like because she had done this before, I didn't believe her, called her bluff, and she actually jumped. And during that time, the perspective of my dream suddenly shifted to her thoughts as she was falling the 100 stories or something - not just 2 or 3 stories. And she was thinking, "Man, maybe this was a mistake - life really isn't THAT bad. I was kind of kidding anyway. Well, at least my friend Nicky is probably running down 100 flights of stairs to try to catch me at the end of my fall, and maybe she'll actually make it, and I'll be okay. Just like in the movies." And I did run down the 100 flights of stairs, but didn't quite make it. The most disturbing part was that she didn't quite die, but her face looked rather cartoon-ish, so it kind of made it better that I let this person die, because she wasn't a real person. So I walked away, figuring someone else would find her and help fix her cartoon body and face.

And THEN I had a dream, probably in between the snoozes of my alarm clock this morning, that I had the wherewithall to write down all of these dreams. I reached over to my nightstand and took out the yellow, lined pad of paper that I've been using lately for to-do lists, and was writing down: "Ice Storm, New Basement, Mittens, Friend Jumping off Building". I was writing with my eyes half-closed, because I knew that if I opened them too much, meaning, woke up too much, I would forget them. I was so proud of myself for thinking to write them down. I thought, "These will be good to share on the blog." Then I woke up, and the pad of paper wasn't next to me at all. And I thought, that is a new kind of dream for me.

Okay - that's all for now.
Sweet dreams,
Nicky and Nate
and "Tot"
17 weeks 3 days
for some reason the odd number weeks seem more like "legitimate pregnancy" to me.
Like, the 13, 15, 17....
Don't ask.

Just give me the Doppler, lady, and no one gets hurt

For those of you who ran out to your nearest office supply store in search of the largest size possible red permanent marker, so big you have to use two hands to hold it, in order to mark your calendars when I mentioned the date of our next prenatal appointment, and then realized you would need an equally sized GREEN marker with which to note the countdown of days and/or hours unTIL the appointment,... I have come to you with an update.

Yesterday I saw one of the OBs at the practice that I am in love with, as mentioned in the Hey, Where’s My Free Personal Razor? blog entry of Wednesday, April 4.

Short version: All is well.

Nicky version / Commentary:
I've been afraid that so far, the midwives and now this OB may think that I'm a simultaneous cross between being neurotic about and uninterested in my pregnancy. I've had no real symptoms to speak of, besides the breast tenderness, which stopped somewhere around 14 weeks. This brought out the neurotic side. I had to go on-line to confirm that that IS normal to stop at around that time. While, of course, I was happy to be able to give bear hugs again without the breast tenderness, and not have to muckle on to my aforementioned upperbody parts as I went down any flight of stairs (I know - picture little Nicky taking such comfort measures), I had an extended moment of panic when my only real symptom of pregnancy was gone. Yes, I was getting a little thicker around the middle, and no, I hadn't had a period since the end of January. But still... shouldn't I be feeling SOMEthing else a little more dramatic than this??

Then there's been my lack of questions for them at my appointments, which I can only imagine makes them wonder, "Isn't this woman at all curious about what's happening to her body and her baby??" But, I read a lot on line, in books, and in magazines, that I figure I don't need to bother them with questions that I can just find the answer to on my own, and find it immediately as opposed to waiting until the next monthly appointment. I'm sure I'll have more questions as things progress, right??

But back to the neurotic side: The only thing I really needed to get out of yesterday's appointment, whether they were planning on doing it or not, was to hear the heartbeat with the Doppler device. Just to make sure that I haven't been dreaming this whole time (that would be one for Nicky's dream books), and that I really did have an active "tot" in there, as Nate says.

So, the OB obliged me (I'm guessing it would have been routine to do it anyway), and it took a little bit of time searching to get a clear sound, approximately 4 hours according to my sense of time. During this time I stared at the ceiling thinking, "This is when she's going to tell me there's no heartbeat. I will have seen this coming. I haven't been feeling pregnant. I can take it. Then she'll really be perplexed when I don't immediately start bawling because I'll just be so numb..." and then she FINALLY said - "It is there, it just keeps moving on me"... and then she settled on a spot and we heard 140 beats per minute. SIGH......................... She also explained that the background "swooshing" sound was the sound of the baby moving around. WILD.

As she was talking to me afterwards, I became aware that I had taken the lower-half fabric drape off of my lap, as I was wearing a long dress anyway and didn't really need it, and was folding it as she was talking. It was a big square, that I folded in half. And then in half again. And in half again. And again. It ended up being personal-towlette-sized, and I realized, I am unable to un-do that little spectacle of neurosis that I just performed in front of her. We are ending the visit on that note and she thinks I am a complete freak.

But I got over that just as soon as we set up my next appointment, otherwise known as the, drumroll please... 20-WEEK ULTRASOUND APPOINTMENT! And seeing as how I was over16 and a half weeks at yesterday's appointment, she suggested scheduling the next one for 3 weeks from then, so I'd be over 19 and a half, or PRACTICALLY 20 weeks. But THEN, due to summer vacation schedules, and needing to have a doctor and an ultrasound tech available on the same day for this appointment, they had to MOVE IT UP A WEEK, so the date we settled on was a mere TWO WEEKS from yesterday!!!!!!!! Meaning 1 week and 6 days from today!!! And today's practically over with, so it's close enough to ONE WEEK AND FIVE DAYS, which is 1-5, or 15, which is the date in January of my birthday!!!! Which must have some kind of COSMIC MEANING, which-- okay, okay, I'll stop. But needless to say, I don't know how I could have possibly expressed my excitement of such a fast-approaching ultrasound appointment without the use of the CAPS LOCK feature on my keyboard. And EXCLAMATION MARKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am now in particular love with the front desk scheduling lady for rigging up such a sweet appointment date for me. I'll have to find out when her birthday is. And what her favorite flower is.

As I was walking to my car, I was so excited when I reached into my purse to call Nate with the update that instead of my cell phone, I pulled out my credit card, looked at it for a second, then realized that I wouldn't be able to call him very well with that object. Yes, I drove myself to work safely.

So if you haven't done so already, you have another chance to run out and go get your new, full-of-ink permanent markers with which to note June 13th as the next milestone in this trip we call my pregnancy.

Until next month,
This is
Nicky and Nate
16 weeks 6 days

Would you LOOK at this thing?!?

It's eNORMous!!









Especially when compared to 2 weeks ago:





Once again, I didn't think I would notice that much of a difference, but figured I'd take a picture anyway, since I had reached my 2-week interval. (I haven't felt like weekly pics at this early stage in the game would be very exciting, so I've been doing every other week.)
I guess Chester's supposed to double in size and weight in the next three weeks - so the pictures should get even MORE interesting than the time lapse portraits of my midsection to date!! Don't blink or you may miss the drama that is my torso.

I love that this week's belly picture features me wearing the outfit that I wore every day of this GLORIOUS three day weekend, with the exception of forcing myself to shower and put on something a little more acceptable for a family gathering on Sunday. Oh, the humanity. Of getting out of my elastic waist shorts and taking a break from gardening. No, really, it was a very lovely Butler family get-together. I did, however, take a slightly early exit so that I could go to Longfellow's greenhouse before they closed for the second out of three trips this three-day weekend to refill my gardening needs. I am working on overcoming my guilt for not staying to help bag up leftovers and wash the tupperware. Next time I will, really, next time.

I was so aware all weekend of how lucky I am to be where I'm at right now. We're in the beginning of a busy summer season of family and friend reunions and celebrations; and while that has the potential to bring stress, albeit the good kind, I'm reminded that the root of these get-togethers are connecting with each other.

I'm thankful to have the amount of free time that I have these days, even with work and other obligations. I'm already thinking ahead to how we will handle the Memorial Day weekend garden-planting task next year while juggling a 6-month-old. But I look forward to sharing the outdoors with our little one.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE our gigantic white lilac trees that are just outside our kitchen window and next to our deck. And when we set the fan up at night in our bedroom, it delivers that amazing lilac smell right into our noses. Makes it easier to get out of bed in the morning.

I've had this realization over the past year or so, that I really love seasons. Good thing for me, living in Maine and all. But that's the thing. I'm not just "enduring" the seasons anymore. And it's even more than having "made peace" with them. I've come to really appreciate them, each for their own merits. I mean, we have these 4 distinct times of year, all with their pros and cons, that impose / offer a sense of what kinds of things to do based on what time of year it is. To take advantage of where you're at at the time, knowing that before you know it, another season and all that comes with it will be upon you.
Like in the Fall: drying herbs and canning vegetables. Apple picking. Making apple crisp. Apple bread. Apple Gumbo. Wearing turtlenecks and wool sweaters again. Going for walks and smelling the smoke from people's wood stoves being used again after months of dormancy.
In the Winter: making Christmas gifts and visiting up the wazoo. Enjoying that first beautiful snowfall (even if it's in February, according to this past season). Snowshoeing. Relishing time to yourself once the holiday craziness has passed. Hand-sewing and actually baking. My new favorite holiday: Mardi Gras!
In the Spring: enthusiastic and determined cleaning and organizing as a result of cabin fever. In-door painting projects as soon as you can start opening the windows for ventilation. Beading projects that are not gifts.
In the summer: camping, hiking, rollerblading, gardening, doing anything possible outside for as long as possible until the sun sets. Cold pasta salad and cucumber sandwiches. And ice cream. Lots of ice cream.
Well, these are my seasons, anyway. And I can't wait to experience them along side our son or daughter, and introducing him or her to our corner of the world, and seeing it through their eyes as they notice cool stuff about the world that I haven't noticed for decades, or maybe never did.

I'm thankful for a husband who, at the end of the day, when I could still think of 4 more projects to tackle before bedtime, says "Let's have a fire tonight" - MEANING - (no, that's not code) : let's have a fire in the firepit that he built in our backyard last summer. There's nothing like just sitting around a fire, talking, and watching the flames - even with the more-than-occassional picking up your chair to move when the smoke is aiming directly for your eyes. There's nothing like making "just one more S'more" in effort to perfect the art of marshmallow-toasting this time around. And realizing that a S'more with a less-than-perfectly toasted marshmallow is still a pretty damn good S'more.

And the satisfaction of burning paper in our fire that would have otherwise gone in the trash since Hallowell doesn't recycle office paper. We recently re-did our chart forms at work, and usually when we get new forms, I bring the old one-sided old forms home for using for our printer. But we had some forms recenly that, no matter how open-minded I am, I couldn't bring myself to use for printing. They were the ones used for exams, with pictures of breasts and male and female genitals on which the nurse practitioners make their drawings and exam notes. The thought also crossed my mind to give them to my little brother and sister to draw on when they return next month (you should SEE the paper they go through - they're prolific artists and geniuses!!). But I thought better of the idea. If Dad and Lus are that hard up for paper that they consent to using the "boob sheets" as we call them, I'm sure we'll re-do the forms again soon.

Sorry - I just had to keep this entry from getting too sappy. :)

And speaking of prolific, I HAVE had a number of dreams lately - I'm amazed I remember the percentage of them that I do. But I think I've kept you long enough this time. I've got to save SOMETHING else to talk about in a few days...

Nicky and Nate
16 weeks, 3 days
whowouldathunkit

It hurts me more than it hurts him...

And he knows it. Let's face it: I'm weak. I'm trying to be strong by not posting anything while I have this standoff with Nate, but I'm having fabulous dreams and thinking of all kinds of great pregnancy stuff to write about. I'm sorry to be depriving you the pleasure of such reading.

I've had so many dreams in the past few days I simply can't remember them all, but a couple were:
I was going to take part in a music jamming session with friends, at the auditorium at Maranacook high school. Our friend Harley was on drums, and one other faceless person was playing the keyboard or something. I was going to play the banjo, as I had miraculously advanced my banjo playing skill without practicing a lick in over a year, and was good enough to be participating in a jam. But as we were getting set up, a bunch of other musicians started showing up, and I could tell that they were all going to be really good, and then I looked down and my banjo had turned into a guitar. At first I thought, well how different can they be, I'll just JAM - improvise - I'm sure it will come to me! But reality set in and I thought, Nicky you're crazy, don't make a fool of yourself in front of these people, and mess up the whole jam session! So I excused myself and woke up.

Another one was that there was some kind of hip-hop, breakdancing dance-off as part of a block party in some urban neighborhood in Detroit or New York or something. And I didn't realize the common thread here until I started typing it, but I was somehow entered into this dance-off even though I had never done any breakdancing in my life. I guess I thought I could improvise the hip-hop part, though. I think I danced some, all in-the-middle-of-a-big-circle and everything, and some of it was good, but some of it was very unfortunate in a way that made people think, "Wow that white girl must be very lost. Some friend must have played a cruel joke on her by putting her name in this competition."

And there you have it.
oh yeah -
15 weeks 5 days

Squirt

I'm not sure what it will take for Nate to submit his own post.

Both of our moms have certainly made it clear that they're dying to hear from him. But I know that the more we beg him, the more he will resist.

He even had the nerve to say earlier today that "things were getting a little stale on our blog" due to the fact that I haven't posted an entry in a few days. Can you believe it?

Maybe I'll just start sharing embarrassing things about HIM instead of just me. If he feels the need to clarify or add "his version" to any of these, so be it. In the meantime, you'll have to guess which things are true and which aren't. Kind of like a little game we played with last year's holiday letter to friends and family.

Like the fact that right now, he's watching a Red Sox game on the couch with his hand down his pants.

And when he leaves for work and comes home each day he picks up our cats and sings them a little song.

And the fact that he fed our friends' kid champagne at the wedding we were at tonight.

And the fact that he instantly gets a nightmare if, during the night, his feet get covered up by the blankets instead of sticking out at the end of the bed. And he wakes up sweating and crying from the nightmare.

And the fact that when I told him I was pregnant, after asking "How does that work?" he stated, "Well that's something I'll have to put on my daily list of things to think about."

And the fact that if his red bouncy ball from childhood that he still plays with (meaning, tosses around while he paces around the house if he's waiting for something, or just for no reason) were to have an unfortunate accident and go missing, he would probably not be able to go on living. I think it would be 1,000% times worse than how distraught he's been since he hasn't been able to find his pipe. Which he's convinced that I misplaced.

And finally, the most popular nickname that came out of the Roast that we did of him last year, with the subtheme of giving him a nickname since he gives everyone else nicknames but was still without one himself, was "Squirt". The meaning of which was to reflect MORE THAN ONE occassion on which he let a little more than gas go in his drawers. And, a personal favorite story of mine, was that when he was a teenager one summer, he and some friends were swimming and floating in the lake, and he had to GO. Like, you know, #2. So his friend Pete said, go for it - it sinks. Well to the mixed company's horror, it didn't sink. It floated. Well, learn something new every day, Squirt.

Terms of Endearment

For those of you previously unaware, Nate has a thing for nicknames. Meaning, in his 30 years, he has been responsible for bestowing wanted and unwanted nicknames on far too many friends and family members to count.

And no, it wasn't him that came up with "Chester", but frankly we just can't resist using it until we know the real deal.

In the meantime, he's been referring to my midsection, and the purpose thereof, as a number of nicknames reflecting the fact that I am housing our baby. The list includes but is not limited to:

Baby House
Baby Condo
Baby Barracks
Baby Yurt
Baby Pup Tent
Baby High Rise
Baby Mansion
Baby Apartment
Baby Castle
Baby Shack
Baby Shanty

We've had a fun time with this list.
Attached picture is of a yurt.

He also called me "Short Stuff" last week, a day or so after I cut my hair. I didn't even get it until he said it a second time, on account of me being a mere 5'3", so I thought he was just referring to my overall height. Duh.

I need to mention another thoughtful Mothers' Day present, from Aunt Punchy again. Since she's an elementary school teacher, she is my book connection. See if you can pick up on the theme:
Mama, Do You Love Me?
What Moms Can't Do
In My Momma's Kitchen
What Mommies Do Best
the other half of which is: What Daddies Do Best - if you flip it over and start from the other end of the book.

That makes 6 books in our baby book library. Thank you, Aunt Punchy!
And yes, I think Nate was responsible for that nickname, too.

Dream quip:
The honest-to-goodness SHORT version is that my co-worker thought it would be perfectly acceptable to babysit his grandkids at work. During the work day. I had to get him to stop playing goofy games while his grandkids were calling him "Pop Pop" (his actual grandfather name) and get some work done.
The End

14 weeks 4 days.
Next prenatal appointment: May 30th.
Next ultrasound: about a month after that.
I know. You don't even have to say it.
We might as well call it an eternity from now.