Baby heart beats and old wives tales

Today Camille and I went to visit her Gynosaurus. We got to the doctor's office, which coincidentally is right next to the hospital that she will be delivering in at 11:00 AM. After a little waiting we were ushered into a little examination room. Camille was asked to uncover the area of her belly where the baby is currently hanging out, they rubbed some sort of jelly on it, and then put this little karaoke machine over the lubricated area. After some searching the tech was able to locate our little alien and we hear its hear beat. 154 beats per minute. Now before you go predicting what the sex will be based on that number consider this:

"There is an old wives tale that supposedly predicts the baby's gender based on how fast or slow the heart is beating. Supposedly, if the fetal heart rate is above 140 you are expecting a girl. However, if the heart rate is below 140, it is supposed to be a boy. There is no evidence or statistical proof to support this theory."


So you will have to wait another couple of months before you find out what the gender will be.

Oh healthcare...

Hilar! This kind of this happens to me all the time. It makes you think twice about going into nursing...



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Clarification...it's not ME doing the yelling and pooping.

Baby details.

A certain baby daddy remarked that my post yesterday was kinda sparse - I suppose I can see where he might get that idea. Here is more:

We have been sitting on this secret for two months now :) We are so sneaky, yes we are!

I feel pretty good all things considered. I was really doing great (no nausea, no nothin!) until the doctors office called and told me that I'm not really making enough Progesterone on my own to support a pregnancy, so now I take a GIANT pill every night. Apparently, this wonderful hormone is responsible for most terrible symptoms of pregnancy - and now I get pukey from time to time (no actual puke though -yay!) and a leeeeeeeetle emotional (although a certain baby daddy thinks it is a lot - he is wrong, as always). And that is on top of the extreme fatigue and always having to be close to a restroom. I don't know how people do this with kids.

All in all I think I have it pretty easy though, as I'm not throwing up five times a day and no - I am not showing yet. Everything around my tummy that is sticking out was sticking out before. Blech.

Poor Phil has really stepped up to the plate though, and is doing a terrific job of making up for my extreme slackery. He has kept the house in fairly good shape and doesn't bother me while i nap twice a day. Very sweet.


So yeah, that's about it. And now......it's time for a nap!

In case you hadn't already heard...

We are havin' a baby. Beginning of January.

That is all :)

Struggles at Wal-Mart

Here are some things I know. Salmonella is bad, and I don't want it. Squished bread is useless. Certain foods can go rotten if they are inadvertently opened and not refrigerated.
And that is why I like my groceries to be bagged nicely. This is ALWAYS a struggle. The only place in Utah Valley that bags my groceries the right way is the Harmons on 8th North in Orem, and we live way to far away to use that place anymore.

The new Wal-mart is finally up and running and I am glad to have it near as it is not completely unbearable to shop at since everything is still nice and new and clean. I love to go early in the morning when no one else is around. I usually go on Tuesdays or Thursdays (work schedule) and unfortunately, there are only two checkers there at that time and I always manage to get stuck with the same lady every time. She draws her eyebrows on and has huge fluffy hair and is a complete moron.
Just about at the end of my rope with the weekly bagging fiasco, I decided to make it fool-proof by grouping my groceries on the runner the way I want them bagged. So, I put my two little loaves of bread together. I wait until about two feet go by and then I put the meat on. I wait again and put the produce. You get my drift.
I go down to collect my bags, and lookie-there. The meat is sitting on top of my bread among other violations. Apparently, what seemed to be a fool-proof plan was not. I was steaming mad, and for the first time in the two months or so that this lady has been checking my groceries I said something.
"Look, I put them in little groups like that so that you would bag them in those groups. I don't know about you, but I am trying not to make my family sick - so don't put raw meat on top of my bread! And you are ruining my tomatoes by putting heavy cans on top of them! And the rest of this stuff is all wrong too - I want the frozen foods together, I don't want cleaning supplies in with my salad, and the cereal doesn't need to be crushed by the cutting board I just bought. They don't even fit in the bag together! Jeeze." She just stared at me blankly and watched me re-bag everything.
Then there was a very awkward moment at the end of my rant where she told me my total and I managed to drop my card on the floor and when I paid, I accidentally pressed debit instead of credit and we had to start the whole card swiping process over again. She handed me my receipt and I stormed out. I know, very mature :)
I am over it now, and even though next week she will probably remember me as that crazy lady who came in and threw a temper tantrum over her tomatoes, I'm betting that my groceries finally get bagged the way I like them:)
Mission accomplished? I think so.

Gus

My poor, poor, poor, poor puppy.

I have recently realized that I truly love my dog.

First, for all who have never met Gus. He is about 75 lbs. of happy, ADHD, lovableness. He loves to cuddle, he loves to be the center of attention, and he LOVES to wag his tail.
Last night we noticed he was not wagging his tail. It just hung there, all stiff and straight and sad. We tried to touch it and Gus growled at us (which he never does) and tried to nip at the offending hand.
At this point, I called my doggie-knowledgeable sister, who told me that it sounded like he broke his tail and that all we could do was give him some baby aspirin and leave his tail alone for six weeks or so. They can't cast it, so there really is no point in taking him to the vet's. So sad! And even worse, poor Gus is mopeing around the house and it breaks my heart to see him in pain (to be honest, I actually cried about this last night and had to be consoled by H).
This is horrible. He's not running up and down the stairs, getting under my feet, or breaking anything - sad!

Let's all have a moment of silence for Gus's broken tail.

Haps.

So...we've been busy lately. Srsly (let's here it for lolcats!). With what? Well, let me just tell you...

Birthdays! My birthday was the third this month, with lots of enchilada-eating American Idol watching fun! H's birthday was the 14th, full of last minute planning and ending with yummy grilled cheese samiches for all :)

This last Monday I had the day off from work and several internet problems throughout the day. Had to call H about a zillion times, so we were really on the phone quite a bit talking to each other and neither of us managed to remember that it was our anniversary. Oops. I realized it when I was reading Mama Kern's blog and she mentioned it. Hurriedly called H and we met up for a quick dinner and then home for more essay-writing and schoolwork-doing. Dangit! We had planned to recreate our first date, with dinner at P.F. Changs and a fab movie, The Prestige (which H bought for me for my birthday). Sigh...things just didn't go as planned.

School. I am not in school this semester, however H is trying to wrap up his Senior Project, er...whatever it is he is doing. He is also trying to write these Foreign Service essays all at the same time, with deadlines both very soon! H does not like typing papers all day every day. Maybe next time, H will learn that procrastination is not a good idea... ;)

Layoff! Sorta. H's job is changing him to commission only, which is bad. Very bad. H's company, Mity Lite, has been laying off people in waves since December. He had managed to survive something like five rounds of these layoffs. H is gonna have to leave the company (which is what they wanted him to do, hence the drastic change in pay). So ,technically, he does not qualify for unemployment at this point. However, a quick phone call revealed that he does, in fact, have a good chance at receiving it. I think that I would rather have H just get another job. Having H home all day will not be good, as I'm sure he will not bother to clean or cook for his still-employed, hard working wife. Plus, H being home on my days off will drive me crazy as I'm sure he will loudly disapprove of my day off activities, namely - cleaning with Micheal Jackson blasting out of the radio, aimlessly surfing the internet, and singing at the top of my lungs in short bursts throughout the day. Ha! I won't stop, and I hope I am so annoying that it motivates H to get out of the house everyday and GET A J-O-B!

So we are stressed out people! And this post is really getting way too long. Good-bye!