Puppy love

Call me crazy. But today I did something I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd do. Not while I was pregnant, anyway. We bought a puppy.

It was my fault, really. At work, we have internal online classifieds ads, and during a break, I decided to see what was up for sale. In all honesty, I was looking for a bassinet (we sold Jordan's bassinet after he was done using it). And there it was. An ad advertising, "Puppies. $10."

I thought to myself, "$10?? Surely, that can't be." So I clicked on it. And the rest, as they say, was history.

I made the huge mistake of falling in love with the chocolate brown pup with the big ol' green eyes staring back at me from my computer screen. I made the even bigger mistake of sending the picture to Jon. And from there, I started an avalanche. Next thing I know, Jon starts IMing me, "We'll crate train him. Jordan would love to have a puppy. He NEEDS a puppy! I'll do everything!!!" That's the only reason I agreed to it.

So we met with lady selling the pups, who brought about 9 puppies, some black, some chocolate brown. All super adorable. But one in particular caught my eye. There he was, lying down, totally unassuming. Our eyes met. I reached out my hand, and he slowly got up and came over to lick it. He nuzzled up against my hand, and that was it. Done deal.

The first night was a bit rough, not gonna lie. He got up about every four hours. The next night was the same. But then Jon, who had been letting him out (no way in HELL was I going to get out of bed) came up with the genius idea of covering the front of his kennel at night. It worked like magic. Rocco slept most of the night.

So our little family is already growing. He's a great dog. Smart as a whip, playful but loving. A great companion for our other little monkey. I'm sure Bailey is looking down on us from dog heaven and approving.

Kicking myself

I have an awful confession to make. I haven't really felt attached to baby #2. Maybe it's the endless doctor's appointments that make me feel like an incubator. Or maybe it's because this one wasn't as carefully orchestrated as Jordan was. Or maybe it's because I haven't really had a chance to relish in this pregnancy, instead constantly worrying about everything that could go wrong (and it CAN go wrong. I've lived it).

This weekend, that all changed. It was the first time I felt baby #2 move on the outside. A hard kick to the gut to remind me he's there.

For our 11 year wedding anniversary, I surprised Jon with a trip to Vegas, along with a surprise vow renewal at the Graceland Church by an Elvis impersonator. We had an amazing time in Vegas, eating like royalty and enjoying the shows. It was during Cirque du Soleil's Ka that Baby felt it was time for me to pay attention to him. As drums boomed at the beginning, I felt a kick in response. And then I felt a little foot make its way across my belly. Hi. It's me, your baby.

Then, on the flight home, exhausted from lack of sleep and too much activity, I slumped over in my tiny airplane seat trying to doze off. Baby would have none of it. SLAM -- right against the left side of my belly. Once again, as if saying, "Mom. Move it. Your squishing me."

It made me smile.

So, yes, I finally realized that there's a baby in there. And he's mine. It's hard to explain, even harder to comprehend.

Something else came out of this trip -- a name. And it came in the form of the Elvis impersonator/minister that renewed our vows. As we were leaving the chapel, I looked down to the certificate and saw his real name printed on it. My eyes got big and I told Jon, "Hey. What about X?" We looked at each other and just knew. That was it. What's the name? You'll have to wait to find out. That's one surprise we plan to reveal in September.

Remembering the past, looking toward the future

In Jordan's brief lifetime, a lot has happened, culturally speaking. When he was born, the first black president was elected. And then shortly thereafter, that same president led the charge on finding and abolishing a mastermind terrorist who changed all of our lives forever.

It's remarkable.

All that to say, I wonder how he'll reminisce upon these massive events when he's older? Granted, he's too young to remember any of it right now, but how will life change? I think back to when we were born in 1974 and '75. We just got out of Vietnam and Nixon cemented the term "corrupt politician." I don't remember any of this personally, but the cultural impact is important all the same.

Sunday is a day that will be forever remembered in history, along with the events of 9/11. I will never forget.

A delicate pregnancy

I love my son. He got his first glimpse into “crazy mommy” today. And he waited patiently for the storm to blow over. I’m so grateful that he has his father’s personality in that regard.

I have a spa appointment today. While it sounds glamorous, I assure you, it’s not. In any case, I planned on using a gift certificate I received a while back ago. When it came time to looking for it, I couldn’t find it. I ransacked the house, tearing things out of drawers, taking things apart. Nothing. By the time I was done, it looked like our house had been burglarized.

So there I was, a whirlwind of hair and curse words, while Jordan just sat in the middle of the living room, only once asking “What you doing, mommy?” Amazing.

Makes me wonder what #2 is going to be like? We’re already getting glimpses of what he’ll look like, thanks to the sonogram I get every two weeks. I’ve been seeing my high-risk doc every two weeks and she’s been carefully tracking the baby’s growth. And I saw my regular doctor yesterday. Everything is looking good so far. It’s funny how vastly different my experience with this pregnancy is from the first one. When I was pregnant with Jordan, it was sort of like a factory. I very rarely saw my actual doctor, most often seeing the nurse. With this pregnancy, the doctors are handling me like a Ming vase. Delicately and intricately paying attention to every detail. And I can’t help but notice a sense of excitement (if you can call it that) when they do see me. At my first appointment, my high-risk doctor told us, “This is great practice for my (ultrasound) technicians! We very rarely see someone with your condition.”

Very rarely. I hate that phrase. I’m a total freak of medical nature. Well, if there’s one thing I can be accused of, it’s being unique.

Symptoms this week: Every now and then I feel a flutter in my belly. Nothing substantial enough, though, to be felt on the outside just yet.

Pass the peas, please

I've had a strange craving lately. It all started when I ordered a do-it-yourself salad from Jason's Deli.

There I was, humming along the salad line, filling my plate with greens, when they stood out at me. All shiny, bulbous and glowing green.

Peas. Lots of peas. I had to have them. I'm not even a fan of peas, but I had to have these peas. I loaded them up on my salad plate. When I sat down and ate some, I was in heaven. These peas were so sweet, so crisp, that I had to have more. So I went and got seconds.

That was just the beginning. Last night, I made Jon cook some up for me, and he didn't disappoint. He made up this recipe from Cooking Light, fresh peas with mint, and made one pregnant lady very happy.

An intimate affair

A strange thing has happened recently with this pregnancy that didn't really bother me with Jordan. My underwear keeps rolling down.

I look like a trucker that has had one too many chili dogs. The burgeoning belly that keeps growing seems to push my underwear further down as each week passes by. So this past week, I decided to break down and buy some maternity underpants.

Before, when I was pregnant with Jordan, I thought, "Maternity underwear? Psh, what a crock." I didn't buy into the idea that you need special underwear.

Well, I stand corrected. The only thing that makes them different, really, is that they're cut lower in the front. So I guess in that sense they are a little more comfortable. Are they really worth the money? I'll let you know as I get bigger.

Pop Goes the Weasel

It's always a funny thing when you "pop" during pregnancy. One minute, you just look a little thick around the middle. The next, BAM! There's that preggo belly.

For me, it happened this week. I was going about minding my own business, when I caught a glimpse of myself standing sideways. At first I thought to myself, "Damn, those Mexican food binges have finally caught up to me," but upon further scrutiny, I realized that, yep, I look really pregnant. It's finally feeling and looking real.

In other news, we had a bit of a scare Wednesday night. I was sitting on the couch just watching t.v., when all of a sudden, my heart started pounding. Like REALLY pounding. I could feel it in my neck. It was hard for me to breathe and I almost felt like I was going to throw up. I got up, and of course started feeling dizzy. So I laid back down. I told Jon to call 911.

When the EMTs came, my blood pressure had reached 158/89 and my heart rate was going a mile a minute. The EMTs took some blood samples to make sure I wasn't going into a diabetic shock (I wasn't), and monitored me a little more. Eventually, my heart rate went down and things normalized. They diagnosed it as an anxiety attack.

It made sense. Earlier that day, I had a contentious back and forth with my boss. Even though it was hours later, the EMTs said stress can creep up on you when you least expect it. So they told me to chill out and call my doctor in the morning.

Coincidentally enough, I had an appointment with my cardiologist today. She did an echocardiogram of my heart and all systems look normal. My blood pressure also read within normal range. So long story short, there's nothing physically wrong with me. Only mentally.

I've had a million people tell me that I shouldn't stress out, to relax. And guess what? THAT'S stressing me out. So if you see me, please don't tell me I need to chill out. It won't help. Simply express sympathy if you must, and move on.

The plans for this weekend? Nothing. Just like the doctor ordered.