Nesting is for the Birds

16 days and counting until our new little guy joins our family. The fact that 2 people in our ward and another kindergarten mom all due after me have already given birth to their babies have left me feeling quite over-ripe. But even though I am no longer sleeping and I can hardly walk across our bite-sized apartment without getting winded, there is something to say about how much easier a baby is to take care of inside one's body than outside of it. But the crib is up, the bedding is on, the onsies have been washed, and the necessities have been supplied. All we need is Baby Buster to complete the picture. And although all appears to be ready it was not an easy task to get to this point. I am not a nester, never have been. I have heard the folklore of the rush of energy that comes to expectant mothers that drives them to heights of organization and craftiness, but in my experience it is just folklore. And if I had not had my early signs of labor there is no way my hormones would have kicked in on their own to create what is now in the baby's room. It was sheer panic that a new human being belonging to me will need a place to set up camp that allowed me to get as far as I have in my preparations. And although I might think we are fully prepared, I know there will be those late a night runs to Target and Walgreen's that will supply the rest of what I have forgotten. What!?! no rubbing alcohol for the obligatory umbilical cord wipe down? Run to Walgreen's. What?!? the blow up baby bathtub I purchased is pink? Exchange it at Target. What?!? no chocolate to get me through the late nights and the endless days? Run to Costco for a vat of peanut M&M's. Now we're talking.

And I know you've all been dying to see just how big I got with this here pregnancy:

Oh, wait a second -- that's not me. It's just how I feel these days. But in all fairness to this beautiful manatee, I feel more like a beached whale.

There I am at 36 weeks. Don't let the cheesy perma-grin fool you.... my feet ache, my knees creak when I walk, I have sciatica, my diaphragm is so scrunched up I can't get a lung-ful of air, I have long since abandoned my wedding ring due to swollen knuckles, the acid reflux is nauseating, these are the only pants that I can fit into, and if you make me laugh or cough or sneeze I'll have to change into my red snowflake pajamas -- isn't pregnancy beautiful?

And for all those natural birdies out there who build and primp their nests with or without a helpful dose of hormones, just picture how much more difficult it is for those of us beached whales who struggle through all the blubber to even get to the tree. We do what we can.

A Whole Lot of Nothing Going On

I put myself on self-inflicted bed rest today which was only made possible by a very good neighbor and friend who endured the company of my very demanding 3 year old. But it is now 9:30 at night and I am finally getting a burst of energy. Maybe not a burst, more like a drizzle. So, I thought I would make use of it and write. Cory has long gone to bed after hours of studying today and with 6 1/2 hours worth of finals to take tomorrow. Which is why I put myself on bed rest -- I cannot have this baby during finals week! It would be a little ahead of schedule but quite possible. We had a little preterm labor scare last week, on the night of our 9th anniversary to be exact. We spent it in the labor and delivery department where I was given a shot to stop some mild contractions that were coming 4 minutes apart. (It was actually quite a lovely night --the kids were being taken care of and we even stopped and got McFlurries on the way home. I consider that an official date.) So when I awoke this morning feeling nauseous and more uncomfortable than usual I didn't want to take any chances. Feet up, lie on left side, don't let the kids' constant fighting get my blood pressure up, hydrate, get my insurance mix-up settled so I can have this child without him having to become an indentured servant to the state, read a book, stop watching "A Baby Story" on TLC because that is starting to freak me out, accept help from neighbor instead of sentencing Claire to a day-long sitting in front of the TV, mediate a raucous game of "5 Little Monkeys" from the couch when Alex gets home from school, and pray Cory gets home before bedtime. That is all I accomplished today. Not bad. But the drizzle of energy has dwindled. It's time for some more bed rest -- hopefully accompanied by at least 7 hours of sleep this time.

Ode to April

Boy, it's been a LONG time since I posted on this blog of mine and yes, I blame it entirely on this pregnancy. As my cousin so lovingly implied there is nothing enticing about dragging my "kankles" and my sciatica-ridden buttocks to sit at the hard, hard computer chair to make an inventory of my pathetic life. But, I can't let this favorite month of mine go by without at least one entry. So, I have hijacked Cory's laptop (an idea that never occurred to me until now) and am sitting on my soft, very worn-in couch with my feet propped up and the Thursday night NBC primetime lineup going on in the background. Seriously, now that I have come up with this new writing scenario you can expect many more posts from this very expectant, but at least comfortable for now, mom.


April has always been my favorite month. Just the word sounds like spring and flowers and exciting things coming around the corner. I always deemed it a privilege to be born in the month of April and secretly felt sorry for those who had the unfortunate circumstance of being born in the less exciting months of say, June or August. But this has been the craziest April we have had since say I was taking finals and planning a wedding 9 years ago, so in order to play catch-up I will utilize the bullet method and summarize what we have been up to:

• My two kids and I traipsed over to Oakdale, CA for a reunion with my roomie, a place to hang while watching conference, for fabulous food cooked by chef Carolyn, and a little birthday celebration.
• I have reached the ripe old age of 32 celebrated by a pedicure, a rootbeer freeze from A&W, and driving 2 hours to come home to Cory, a babysitter, and a hunt for decent Mexican food.
• After a day of recuperation from the Oakdale trip, the 3 of us got back into the car for a gruesome 8 hour trip to San Diego for Alex's Spring Break.
• Met up with my parents (Marmie & Bapa) and two of our favorite cousins (Adam & Tyler) for a great reunion with Shamu at SeaWorld. Boy, have we missed that place.
• While I was away, 3 fabulous friends made our third bedroom/office into an actual baby's room -- something I could never do on my own. What a treat!
• Cory and I went to see "Wicked" in San Francisco. A third time for me and a first for Cory. Well worth the trip into the city, the frigid walk to the theater, being hustled by homeless people at the Carl's Junior we were forced to eat at in lieu of a romantic dinner, and the life-time servitude we owe to our friends who watched our kids for 6 hours so we could go.
• Alex mastered the two-wheeler with limited help from us, proving that, as always, Alex will master all milestones in his own way and when he darn well wants to.
• I have well passed the recommended 25-30 pound weight gain with 6 weeks to go
• I have endured many well-intentioned comments like: "you look like you're ready to pop!" and "Are you sure the due date is right?"
• We have added and subsequently deleted the names Elliot, Garrison and Ash to our baby name list. We are in a real stupor about this one.
• I have succumbed to every annoying pregnancy ailment and discomfort that keeps me up all night and keeps me down all day. This is the first time I have actually wanted a baby to come out before its time.

Well, that's April in a nutshell! Wish me luck as we embark into May -- the last full month before life changes forever.

Wiltbanks Gone Wild

This week has been UC Berkeley's Spring Break!! So while many of Cory's classmates are partying it up in exotic locations and some are even touring Europe, we are still here -- trapped with a child in kindergarten whose Spring Break doesn't come for another 2 weeks and trapped without a trust fund or lottery winnings to really party. But we did allow Alex to play hookie for one day and we did our version of "Wiltbanks Gone Wild." We went into the city of San Fran determined to make the best of the awesome locale we are in right now. So, this was one day of no holds barred, no expense spared, utter economic abandonment. For our current no income status, we might have gone a tad bit overboard. Here's the breakdown:

San Francisco Spending:

BART Tickets -- $21

Trolley Tickets -- $33 (we were going to this adventure the right way -- cable cars were a must. Too bad I didn't realize how uncomfortable a mode of transportation a cable car is. They are crowded and hard to balance on -- especially for one whose abdominal muscles are severely compromised. Thank goodness many people gave up their seat for the pregnant lady.)

ATM fee $2 -- we have GOT to remember that no one accepts anything other than cash in the city

Map of the city and the public transportation that gets you through it -- $3

Italian Lunch for 4 in Little Italy -- $42 (but can you really put a price on having your children discover a love for calamari?)

One Cannoli for dessert -- $4.75 (Cory insisted on this purchase but was nice enough to give us all a tiny bite)

2 Ghirardelli Chocolate Fudge Sundaes -- $17 (this was actually my only reason for wanting to go into the city so we couldn't pass on this. An exorbitant amount to pay for ice cream, but I'd do it again.)

One emergency purchase at Victoria's Secret -- $45 (my old bra actually broke -- this was a must!)

Dinner at a 50's Diner -- $32 (Dad's choice of Tai food was vetoed this time, one exotic meal a day should be enough)

I don't want to even add it up. I think it's enough for our whole family to have gone to Disneyland for the day instead of just across the bay. But we did do some things that were free:

The Trolley Car Museum was free.
Rolling up the kids pants and letting them play on the beach, pretending pirates were coming after them was free.
And the sitting on the sidewalk like vagrants, waiting for the over-crowded trolley to have mercy on us and pick us up was free.

And the kids having a public meltdown on the steps that acted as an ampitheater? Well, that's just priceless.

The Girls' Weekend that Wasn't

The fact that I haven't posted anything for so long can attest to the fact that I am indeed a pseudo single parent with hardly any energy left in the day to heave the ice cream scoop in and out of the carton let alone sit down and write something witty. Thank goodness last week I snuck in a quick girls' weekend to AZ so I had the renewed patience to make it through this stage of life alone, without a present partner. (In my brilliant husband's defense he is doing his part by taking exams that I wouldn't have any concept of faking, preparing presentations that blow my mind, and landing 4 interviews to get an internship this summer. All of which are very important and critical to our family's welfare, but which leave us in 2 entirely different trenches. Mine being the less appreciated one. Wouldn't it be so nice as a mother to hear the words "excellent strategy for household efficiency and way to handle the imminent breakdown of your subservients"?) Cory gets graded on a regular basis and, although I am not anxious to return to a land of deadlines and evaluations, an 'A' would certainly feel good to see in reference to any efforts I have been attempting as of late, albeit not the grade I have probably earned.

Okay, but back to my girls' weekend. With the help of my step-it-up husband, 2 angel friends who endured my kids for a whole day, and a free Southwest ticket, I went to help my mother celebrate her 60th birthday. (Gulp! That seems entirely too big of a number for someone who gave birth to me. That would actually mean I'm in my 30's.) But when I say that I went to help my mom celebrate, what I meant to say is that I helped my mom throw the biggest party of the century. And when I say that I helped my mom throw a party, what I meant to say is that she worked my sisters and me like dogs for 3 days to get the party ready. It was not the relaxing weekend that I had envisioned. I had been looking forward to this time for a month -- anticipating the pedicure I would get, the old friends I would see, and the laziness I could indulge in without my ever present children. Well, I came back to Cali with the same worn and chipped toenails that I left with, the only old friends I saw belonged to my mother (except for my girlfriends who crashed the party), and the only thing I indulged in was the leftover frog-eye salad.

But the party was a success!! And after complaining for 3 days I came away amazed at what my mom can pull off and also at how many people love her. There were over 75 women there! Where I have a hard time finding 3 people to go to lunch with me, she managed to inspire 75+ women to attend a full-fledged luncheon in her honor complete with entertainment and gift bags. She has lived in the same house for 31 years, which is less than 10 miles from where she grew up, so there is a reason for her to have so many people in her life. But she definitely knows how to keep and cherish those friendships and her birthday was evidence of that fact. Although my mom and I might look alike, the resemblance stops there. What with her organizational skills, her inability to sit still, and her dislike of chocolate we couldn't be more different. But if I can accomplish the seemingly impossible task of raising fantastic kids without losing a sense of my individuality like she has, I will be proud of that accomplishment. I love you, Mom!! (But you owe me a real girls weekend. I have 2 words for you -- spa package.)

My sisters and me, up to our ears in frog eye salad (and flowers)

The entertainment. What party is complete without a magician?

That's A LOT of people!

May I Have a Drumroll Please?

IT'S A BOY!!!

(I told you so)

Boy or Girl?

I will admit that, up to this week, I have been in complete denial of my pregnancy. How I have managed to do so while carrying around such a protruding belly (I became a lot bigger a lot quicker with this one) I will never know. But it has been my defense mechanism and I have embraced it. But this is the BIG week, the 20 week mark week, the half-way point week, and more importantly the ULTRASOUND week. Yes, we go in tomorrow to find out what "it" is, and maybe the fact that I will no longer call this thing an "it" as of tomorrow has allowed me to come to terms with the fact that I will be a mother of 3.

Anyone who has asked has gotten my opinion that this baby that I am carrying is in fact a boy. I really, really think that it is and I have back-up from Alex who is dying for a baby brother to ride bikes with (where Alex will always win, so he has informed us.) And I take great stock in the fact that most times little kids are right on when determing the sex of their siblings. So, to back Alex and me up, I did what probably every mother-to-be has done before, but what is really my first go at -- I did all the tests to predict the sex of our baby and we'll see who is right.....

The Heart Rate Test:
According to this one, if the mother's heart rate is over 140 then it's a girl. If it's under, than it must be a boy.
***I sat down and took it and what do you know, it's exactly 140 -- what does that mean?!?

The Chinese Lunar Calendar:
Now this is really a science. You determine the mom's age and the month of conception (which was in September, Charles) and then voi⋅là -- I will be having a girl!!


Belly Shape Test:
I actually subscribed to this belief that you can predict the sex by the shape of the belly. If you are carrying low it is supposedly a boy, and if you are carrying high then it is a girl. The problem with this is that I have no idea how I'm carrying. I'm HUGE (at only 20 weeks) so I think I am carrying both high and low. So we'll call the test undeterminable.


The Ring Test:
You know this one. You put your wedding ring on a string and then hold it over the tummy-in- question and watch the ring swing. If it swings in circles it is a boy and if it swings from side-to-side it is a girl. Again, I found discrepancies with this test, as well. If you hold it over your tummy long enough it will move both ways, in circles and sideways. Another undeterminable assessment, but one that I tried to rig by slowing moving my hand in a circular motion.


And now, the DAD's Weight Test:
If he is gaining weight along with the mom, then it is a boy. If he's not, it's a girl. Well, Cory has actually lost weight (which makes me feel even bigger) so I guess that's another vote for a girl.

And then I took a 21 question quiz. Hight-tech stuff with promising results. I mean, what could be more accurate than asking if my feet arre "colder than before pregnancy" or the "same as before" or if my nose has experienced "spreading during the pregnancy?" And then the computer computes for awhile then spits out a percentage. So according to the "Will Your Baby be a Girl or a Boy" quiz, I have a 57% chance of this being a boy and a 42% chance it's a girl. So, although the odds are on my side, it still leaves me a little disconcerted about the reamining 1%.

Well, with all this high-tech stuff and mother's intuition, who need an ultrasound? But, I'll guess we'll keep the appointment anyway. We'll let you know....