wishful thinking

I wish I~

paid more attention in 7th grade home economics and took an interest in sewing;

knew how to take a good photograph;

practiced piano more;

wasn't always so concerned about what people thought about me;

let loose more often and broke a few rules when I was younger;

listened more and talked less;

gave more hugs and said more I love yous;

wasn't so afraid to fail;

learned to see shades of grey rather than just black and white; and,

took time to revel in every moment and every stage of my life,
instead of always looking forward to the next thing.

polar opposites

I know, it's cheesy...but Tom completes me.  He is the yin to my yang.  He's the peanut butter to my jelly.

He and I are pretty different from each other.  I kind of knew that before we got married, but once we were married and living together, it became (sometimes painfully) obvious that we are pretty much opposites. 

We don't like the same kind of music.  We don't read the same kinds of books.  We rarely agree on what movie to watch, and then basically come out of a movie theater with different reviews about 99.1% of the time.  We have different ideas about what colors our house should be painted.  And he's a Lakers fan (gag).

If these trivial differences don't satisfy you, there are "real" differences, too.  Our love languages are sooooo different--he's an acts of service kind of guy, and I'm all about words of affirmation.  We serve in different ways at church--he's a behind the scenes kind of guy, and I'm out in front.  He likes to be out and about, I'm a total homebody.  I can be really insecure, and he's so confident.  He's goofy and fun 99% of the time, and I'm serious and not that fun 99% of the time. 

I could go on and on.  (He would've been done after the second sentence of this post.)

But I won't.  'Cause I just wanted to tell you how much I love my guy.  He's the bomb.  He gives of himself so freely, and without complaint (another difference between us).  I think he's really funny....although sometimes my "serious" side keeps me from laughing, so he thinks I'm the only person on earth who doesn't think he's funny.  But I do, babe...I do. 

And I miss him.  A lot.

Because he's all the way on the other side of the planet.  As in, the opposite side of the planet.

Sigh.

I'm glad we're different.  He keeps me grounded.  He keeps life fun.  He keeps me smiling. 

And honey...if you're reading this (because he rarely reads this blog without my prompting), sorry that my online persona is more loving than my real persona.  I'm still the same person, and online or in person, I love you and respect you lots and lots.  And I'm glad you're mine...because I'm a bazillion times better with you than I was when I was alone.

It ain't fiction, just a natural fact...we come together, 'cause opposites attract!  (Thank you, Paula and Mr. Cartoon Cat.)

an officer and a gentleman

Dear Grant,

I want to share something that happened to me this morning with you.  Since appah is away this week for work, I've been taking the bus in.  It's been mostly okay, although doing all the morning routines with Scoutie by myself has been a challenge because I've had to wake up extra early to get everything done and get to the bus station on time.  On time for the bus, sweetie, is how my high school basketball coach defined being on time: if you're 10 minutes early, you're on time; if you're on time, you're late!

Well...it was extra hard to wake up this morning, so I got a late start.  I thought about cutting Scoutie's routine short, but that wouldn't be nice.  The poor dear has to spend all day alone, after all.  So...I got to the bus...on time.  Which means, I was late and, at that point, it was standing room only.  Since it was drizzling outside, I decided to just stand on the bus ride in until the first stop, which was about 45 minutes away. 

You can't see me...but I look very pregnant right now.  And I can be a bit unbalanced when I walk.  So when I got in the bus, I knew people would try to avoid eye contact with me because they wouldn't want to offer their seats, and they wouldn't want to feel guilty about it.  Even still, I was a little surprised that not one single person offered me their seat.  Not that I blame them--45 minutes is a long time to stand--and I was really willing to do it.  But I will tell you, baby, that if I saw a very pregnant lady walk in the bus, I would offer her my seat.  And I have to say that about 2 minutes after the bus pulled away, I started feeling guilty because I knew that if the bus stopped suddenly or if we got in an accident, I was really putting you at risk.

Anyway, about 15 minutes into the ride, I felt a tap on my shoulder.  A nice man said, "Please, sit down."  And I actually said it was okay.  But he insisted that his back hurt and told me that he wanted to stand.  Now, after I sat down, he started doing back stretches and such, but I'm not sure if he was doing them to make me feel better or if he really did have a backache.  In any event, I was touched.  Not a minute later, another man, who happened to be in uniform, stood up and offered his seat to the lady who was standing behind me.  She declined, but he insisted, and so she sat.  I couldn't help but smile and feel so happy, even on this drizzly, dreary Monday morning.

Call me old-fashioned, but I really hope that you grow up to be like these men.  I think it is really neat when men hold doors open, offer their seat, let a lady on or off the elevator first, and are just really considerate when it comes to other people.  It's not because I think women are weak or incapable, but it is because I think it shows that you respect them.  In fact, it's important to show respect to everyone. 

I hope that when you are given the opportunities to be a gentleman, that you remember your very pregnant mommy standing in the bus on a dark and rainy Monday morning and the kind man that offered his seat to her.

Love,
Mommy

31 weeks: a week without daddy

This week, your baby measures over 16 inches long. He weighs about 3.3 pounds (try carrying four navel oranges) and is heading into a growth spurt. He can turn his head from side to side, and his arms, legs, and body are beginning to plump out as needed fat accumulates underneath his skin. He's probably moving a lot, too, so you may have trouble sleeping because your baby's kicks and somersaults keep you up. Take comfort: All this moving is a sign that your baby is active and healthy.


9 weeks to go!  Actually, I think Grant is closer to 4 lbs this week because he was measuring at 3 lbs 11 oz on Monday.  In any event, he is really starting to kick the wind out of me.  It's hard to sleep and I'm getting tired.  But I'm absolutely loving it.  Wow--I can't believe it is getting so close to "go" time.  


Today is also Helen eemo's birthday!  Happy birthday, Helen!  What a great sister you are--I remember mom being pregnant with you and the day you came home.  Our family wouldn't be complete or nearly as lively without you.  I love you to pieces. :)


Tom went on a work trip on Thursday and won't be back until Saturday.  So far it's been ok, but I miss him a lot.  Oh, and it doesn't help that he's in Hawaii and then will be going to Singapore...yes...for work.  Sigh.  The most exotic place I've been to for work is Oklahoma City.  :)  I wish I could've gone on this trip with Tom, but I'm just way too far along.  Oh well.  I do miss him terribly.  And I think Scoutie does, too.   I can't wait until he comes back.


Well...time to get ready for another week.  Week 32, to be exact. :)

she takes a lickin' and keeps on kickin'!

Tom and I have been in the market for a new car for a while.  We've enjoyed our first five years of marriage without a single car payment, and it's been nice.  We both got our cars around the same time in 2000, so they're both over 10 years old now.  But, with my sincerest apologies to Tom in advance for this next statement, I think my Honda Accord far outrocks his VW Jetta.  I could go on and on about why, but let's just say that we've poured about 5 times as much money in maintenance and repairs into that car than we have into the Honda.  And I think my sweet old girl has at least 5 years left in her.  I will say that the Jetta beats out the Honda only in one area: she has heated leather seats.

We've been waiting for Tom's Jetta to finally kick the bucket so that we can justify purchasing a new car.  Tom has lived with two major issues since the beginning of their relationship -- the bumper never stays on and the Jetta burns oil like there is no tomorrow.  But, in recent years, he's had to watch his beloved's list of ailments increase exponentially.  Although this car causes me much grief, I will say, it's nice to know that Tom's a fiercely loyal guy who sticks by his loved ones til the end.  ;)

Anyway, things have been going downhill rapidly for the past few years, but Tom's loyalty has won out and we've kept her around.  So...when the gas gauge broke, we said, "Not yet."  Then the cup holder broke and part of the console fell off, but Tom superglued them back on and we said, "Not yet."  The tabs on the power window buttons broke off, but we could still manuever the suckers, so we said, "Not yet."  The AC broke, and we just decided not to drive it during the hot days of summer and said, "Not yet." The visor broke, but Tom hasn't used the visor much anyway, so we said, "Not yet." 

Then...it was time for the Jetta's annual safety exam and the automobile gods said, "Pay $400 or go directly to car jail...do not pass go."  And then we said, "OK, maybe it's time."  Of course, we were already thinking that it was time to get a new car since Grant is coming in a couple of months, so this was pretty much a done deal already.  But fate, in the name of Bambi, sealed the deal.  Recently, Tom was driving his beloved to work, and was no more than 1 mile from our house when he saw Bambi dart from the side of the road (it's deer mating season here in the VA, folks, so be careful out there!).  And poor Bambi decided to run into Tom's beloved...and here's what happened to the beloved:

Which is not bad, considering what Tom thinks happened to Bambi.  But man, this girl just won't die and obviously doesn't want to leave Tom because she's making herself as unsaleable as possible.  Should I be concerned? ;) 

I think I'm going to have to prepare a special car funeral service for Tom when she's actually gone.

Something tells me, though, that once we get our shiny new car, Tom will learn to love again.

come, sit, stay

Here's our Scoutie.  She's been our baby for over a year and a half now and we love her to death.  She's generally a great dog and is very sweet.  But lately...she's been getting more hyper and more disobedient.  Luckily, she's not the destructive type.  I think part of it has to do with the fact that she senses something is up.  Dogs are pretty keen about human emotions, so I've heard that dogs can sense that things are about to change when their people are expecting a baby.

Well, yesterday, she really tested our patience for the first time since we were potty training her.  Right before we were about to leave for the work, Tom went outside to turn off the sprinklers in the backyard and Scout took the opportunity to bolt outside for some fetch.  See...Scout's favorite thing in the world is to fetch.  She could do it for hours on end -- and generally, when we're outside, we play with her until she basically collapses on the ground.  When we bring her inside, she rests for all of 15-30 minutes and then she's ready to go again.  The picture above shows a typical evening in the Ro household...after dinner, when we're trying to relax and watch TV, Scout will bring one of her toys in the hopes that we'll throw it.  If we ignore her, she'll bring another one...and then another one...and suddenly, we'll look down and all of her toys will be on our couch, and she'll be staring at us with those sad, "please play with me" eyes.  I will look at her and declare her a "ridiculous, silly dog!"

Anyway, I digress.  Yesterday, she knew we were going to work.  But she wanted to play fetch.  So, Tom played with her for about 5 minutes.  But she would not come inside.  I went outside and played with her for another 10 minutes.  But she would not come inside.  For the next 30 minutes, Tom and I did everything in our power to get her to come inside.  I even tried running and getting her to chase me (not one of her favorite games), but all I ended up doing was looking completely ridiculous, trotting around the backyard 7.5 months pregnant while Tom just sat there and laughed at me...geez, I hope none of my neighbors were watching!  Nothing would work.  At one point, she just decided to take her ball and plop down in our neighbor's yard and just watch us.  Can you say frustration???  I finally was able to lure her in with some treats, but I think she was just tired at that point.

During that 45 minutes, I thought about how hard it's going to be when Grant is out of this belly, because then Tom and I won't be able to tag team anymore.  At the height of my frustration, I told Tom, "Let's just leave her out for the day."  Tom just shook his head and looked at me like he does whenever I'm really hormonal.  Which I was.  I think Tom and I were both thinking the same thing--we are never letting this dog off-leash again and we are going to deprive her of her most favorite activity in the world: fetch.  Since yesterday, I've been thinking...maybe we'll get her a shock collar, maybe we'll get an invisible fence, maybe this, maybe that....

But now that I'm calm, I realize that I've been failing her.  Even though I did a lot of training when we first got her, I need to do some basic obedience training with her again--especially in preparation for when Grant is out and about.  We've got to work on the "come" command again...obviously.  And, if I'm being completely frank with you, I've been neglecting my Scoutie for a while because I've just been so freaking tired.  So...in my continuing effort to better myself, I'm adding "better dog owner" to the long list of self-improvement projects.  Sigh.

bigfoot contortionist

I got to see Grant again yesterday.  It was so fun.  Well...he didn't really want to show his face...I think he's a bit camera shy.  The little man had his hands AND his feet in front of his face!  What flexibility!  The tech got him to show his face briefly, though he wouldn't give us a profile shot.  Here he is:

The small arrow in the middle of the screen is where his eye is.  As you can see, his cheeks are starting to fill out and get really chubby. :)  He was moving his mouth when the tech got this shot.  So cute!  Now look closely at this next face shot:

See those white dots on top of his head?  Those are his TOES!  Isn't that crazy?  I can't believe his toes were all the way on top of his head.  Hahahaha.

Finally...we got a shot of one of his feet!

You have to look closely here, but you can see the arrows pointing to each toe.  From what I can tell, he's got ginormous feet.  My little big foot. <3

The little man is measuring at 3 lbs, 11 oz. and is head down, with his butt on my left side (which explains the occasional rounded lump I feel there), and his feet at my rib cage (which he likes to kick really hard from time to time).  Gosh, I can't even begin to tell you how much I love this kid.

The perinatologist that I saw yesterday said everything looks good and told me not to come back unless complications develop.  Of course, he's not the peri I've been seeing all along who has insisted that I am at risk for pre-term labor, but he seemed like he knew what he was talking about.  Maybe I'll call the other peri and see what she thinks.  The fact that he said not to come back made me both happy and sad.  Of course, I am thrilled that everything is looking good now, and that there is little cause for concern, but these were the only visits where I got to get an ultrasound...I know I'm spoiled because many women get one or two at the most, but I just love seeing my little guy.  Oh well, I'll see him in full glory...soon enough...like 9 1/2 weeks soon enough!!! :)