Our Dream Come True

As of 1:30pm yesterday afternoon, my husband and I are now the proud owners of our new house!


It took about 1 month from the very first time we saw the place from outside (on Christmas Day) until they handed us the keys. I can’t believe how quickly things came together and I’m so excited to move in and start ripping things apart!

Actually, not so much in that order.

My dad, brother and husband will be going to the new house today to start on a couple tasks — mainly moving the kitchen island, installing a mailbox and switching out two lights.Then on Sunday the same awesome crew, in addition to me and a friend will be painting a couple of the rooms that I just can’t live with.

It’s been suggested by a few people that I include house renovations/decoration in my blog, so you’ll probably be hearing more about this and seeing before and after pictures too.

Until then though, I’ll be on the high of finally achieving a dream that Travis and I have been talking about for the last 2 -3 years!

Itchy, Scratchy & Whiny

I have a confession to make.

And I’m going to apologize in advance, because this is something that most women really don’t want to hear – especially if they are currently pregnant or have previously been pregnant. So I’ll understand if you curse at me under your breath.

I’ve had a really easy pregnancy.

The first trimester is known for some fatty boombatty weight gain and massive morning sickness. Yeah, I didn’t have any of that. I never felt sick. I didn’t have any aversions to food or strange cravings. I didn’t have morning, afternoon or evening sickness. Oh, I did temporarily lose my taste for coffee, but that came back after a couple months. Pretty much the only thing that happened was my tummy immediately stuck out and I got even more, um…bosomy.

I figured that I’d gone through so much other drama, that maybe this was where I’d luck out. I’d had friends with complications or 8 months of “morning sickness” so I truly knew how lucky I was. I was appreciative of each and every day of feeling good. But yes, I’ll admit I was a bit smug inside my own head at how awesome I was at this pregnancy thing.

The second trimester was easy peesy too. We found out the sex of our baby super early on and all the additional tests, doctor’s appointments and sonograms went well. I had some acid reflux issues, but I’d had those before I was pregnant – so I didn’t even know if they were the same or worse than before. I didn’t have any of those crazy hormone breakdowns of crying or randomly yelling at my husband.* We also agreed on a baby name super easily and only went back and forth on middle name options for a month or so.

The only yucky thing was that I can’t seem to sleep – I’m up a few times a night to either use the bathroom, quiet the dog down (long story, apparently he has decided that he is high maintenance), or just sit there and stare at the clock. However, I’ve gone through bouts of insomnia many times before, so that wasn’t exactly something new in my life.

Oh and my husband totally earned extra brownie points because he said that I was “making pregnancy look easy” by still dressing pretty cute and not getting super fat. Apparently, I’m one of those lucky ones where all of the baby is sticking out in front of my tummy like a bowling ball.

Yeah, you kind of want to kick me in the shin right now, right?

Actually, I want to kick me – I sound like a total brat. This is why when people asked me how my pregnancy was going I’d just say “fine” and leave it at that. Nobody wants to hear someone brag about how great they’re doing.

Well, the reason I can tell you this now is because it’s all gone to hell in the third trimester. And here is where the whining begins:

In the last couple weeks my acid reflux has gotten so bad that I’ll wake up in the middle of the night to be sick. So sick that I’ve actually burst blood vessels in my eye. Yeah, it’s THAT awesome. Because the best way to get that much needed REM is by being startled awake with just enough time to run and hurl into the toilet.

I had my glucose test, which is a fabulous little thing where you drink a yucky drink and then have your blood drawn an hour later to see how your body dealt with the sugar. Well, after multiple needle pricks (my veins suck and it always takes the technician multiple tries to find one…and did I mention, I HATE needles?) they finally took my blood. And I failed the test. So I get to go back and do the three hour version of the test on Friday. I have to take off work to sit around in the lab for three hours, being poked every hour on the hour to take some more of my blood. If I fail this next test, I will have to follow a special diet for the rest of my pregnancy and may even have to go on insulin. Oh, and many women who get gestational diabetes go on to develop type 2 diabetes years later. So let’s all cross our fingers that the first test was a fluke and I’m actually fine.

My last complaint is about itching. Imagine that you’ve walked into a bunch of poison ivy and got sunburn all over your body at the exact same time. Now imagine that when you scratch the itchy area, instead of relieving the itch it just makes it angry and it itches even worse. That’s how I’ve been feeling.  It is a non-stop, itchy, “my skin hurts and itches so bad I want to fill a tub with calamine lotion and bathe in it” kind of feeling. Yup, yet another reason that I can no longer sleep at night (this has got to be great practice for the baby, right?).

My wonderful friends on Facebook have recommended lots of different lotions and potions, some of which actually help a little bit. The problem is that the insane itching and some other symptoms I have are pointing towards a condition called cholestasis.

I’m hoping that it’s just normal pregnancy itchiness and I’m just a big wimp. However, until I get my blood test results (probably next week) I will be freaking out because cholestasis can be very dangerous for your baby.

Best case scenario: it’s just normal pregnancy itchiness and I’m going to have to deal with it for the next 11ish weeks until the baby is born.

Worst case scenario: Well, let’s not talk about that. But it may be very likely that the baby will have to be delivered at 37 weeks to protect him.

So, that’s my answer to “how is your pregnancy going?” Honestly, the last 7 months have been great. And it might be great again in another week or so when I have all my latest test results back. But for the moment, I’m going to whine.

I swear I’ll get over it quickly though; nobody likes a whiner…probably even less than they like a braggart.

Luckily I’ve got lots of exciting stuff to keep my mind off my issues – we’re going to settlement for our new house on Friday afternoon and will be slowly moving in over the next couple weeks. My awesome friends have also planned a baby shower for me this weekend and I’m super looking forward to seeing a bunch of my friends & family and opening cute and soft baby presents.

Well, would you look at that – I’m feeling better already.

Now about that tub of calamine lotion…

* At THAT time. Since then I’ve totally ripped his head off for moving the cords where we set up our cellphones. Really. And yes, it was as stupid as it sounds.

Officially Giving up on Trying to Be Cool

I’ve always been a bit of a dork about home decorating. I love collecting magazines and catalogues (especially West Elm, Crate & Barrel and Pottery Barn) and am totally addicted to a few decorating blogs out there. I have a very particular aesthetic and I need things to be homey and soft so that you feel comfortable kicking off your shoes and snuggling.

I don’t like to just buy everything at one store though and tend to search around for awesome deals as they pop up. I also love to DIY my own projects – whether it be refinishing a side table from Goodwill or sewing pillows out of fancy napkins.

Although I’ve allowed myself to purchase and create a few things for the baby’s room, I’ve really held off on buying anything new for our house since we weren’t really sure where we would land. Not knowing the size of a future family room, means that it’s pretty stupid to spend time looking for that perfect ottoman.

Well, now that moving into our new home has become a reality, I’ve really stepped up to the next level of crazy and have gone into full-on decorating mode.

It might be partially because I’ve held off for so long, or it could be magnified by that pregnancy nesting thing, but I have been completely and totally fixated on our new house since the moment I first saw it (and took about 100 pictures).

My first obsession was to find the perfect rug for our new den. Now a normal person would look around to find a rug they liked, buy it and be done with the whole thing. Yeah, not me.

I found a rug that I LOVED on the West Elm website, however it was $250 which I felt was a bit much to pay for something you’re going to be walking on. I then spent a ridiculous amount of time on the internet searching for similar rugs. I mean hours upon hours of searching. On top of that, I made my husband go with me to outlets an hour away to check and see if they had anything we liked. I could think of nothing except my obsession for finding this perfect rug.

This isn’t normal, right?

Anyways, I finally found one that I loved almost as much as the original and it was only $120 with free shipping. So I ordered it, it came within a week or so, and I love it so much I want to kiss it and hug it and make sweet baby rugs with it (which I guess would be doormats…).

So, onto the next obsession – a really comfortable chair that will sit on this rug. In my imagination, I wanted an oversized leather “library-type” chair that I could snuggle up in to drink a cup of hot chocolate in front of the fireplace.  Everything I found online was so expensive, I just couldn’t justify spending that much money on just a chair. Finally, my husband and I went to a local store to check out their clearance center and holiday weekend sales. We probably sat on 50 different chairs (which is really difficult when you need someone’s help to get up each time) and found one that we both loved.

And it’s a recliner.

Yes, a recliner. Now, when I think of a recliner I think of my grandparent’s house. Everyone likes to sit on a recliner because it’s really comfy, but it’s so freaking ugly that you wouldn’t really want one in your own house. It’s like the moment that you give up and choose comfort over fashion.

Have I really reached this point? Should I pack away my high heels, get out an old scunchy and never bother with makeup again?

Now, granted this recliner is actually quite attractive – it’s big and fluffy and made out of black leather. I kind of love it, especially when I wake up in the middle of the night with bad acid reflux and need to fall asleep somewhere half-sitting up.

However, I still felt like I’d waddled past the sign that says “Over the Hill” into the “I Don’t Care Anymore” territory.

The moment that made me melt into a puddle of pregnancy hormones

Well, I felt that way until I walked into the living room yesterday and saw my husband reclined in the chair with our dog lying on his stomach.

In that instant, I didn’t care anymore about whether a recliner was cool or not. All I could think was that in a few months my husband is going to be dozing in that chair with our baby on his chest. Not long after that, our baby will be a toddler and he’ll sit on our laps while we read him his bedtime story. A few years later, he may sit there all by himself… maybe with Potter beside him.

So, if I’ve officially taken my ‘old card’ by purchasing a comfy and not-so-cool recliner, I don’t care. Because I guess I AM kind of old now… I’m going to be somebody’s mother. And that’s scarier than all the scrunchies in the world.*

 

* Well, scary and awesome and terrifying all at the same time.