On Men I Want To Punch In the Face - and some other stuff

So here I am again, for the second time this week, at home rather than at work, and feeling completely EXHAUSTED. My hormones have reached yet another level of crazy - although this week they seem to be aimed out our government instead of my Husband which is a relief. Still, my feelings of utter rage towards the PM's snarky-smug-rich-pasty-ruining-my-dreams-of-home-ownership face on the TV do leave us both concerned about the safety of our television.

I'm having some intense dreams, mostly about the state of the planet and the guilt I feel about bringing a new person into it, in it's current state of affairs. I even dreamt there was a public service announcement on the news saying that this generation of kids would be the last the earth would see because things had got so bad! Needless to say - GUILT TRIP! I am now looking into nappy recycling and installing a stand alone rain water tank and perhaps finding a way to collect our waste water for the garden and learning how to compost properly. Trying to plan my vege garden to be as effective as possible in the space we have, and even, perhaps, just being ready to go be survivalists in the bush.
Husband's not so keen on that one. Plus, as renters (he calmly points out), "probably installing a waste water collection system is not such a great idea." Husband says "we can do that when we own a house". 
"Own a house?!" Is my incredulous reply.

"At this rate the #$&*#??!!!! PM's snarky-smug face isn't going to let us own anything!!!!"

(It is a little infuriating, that two nearly 30 year olds with a total of 13 years of University education between them, who have impeccable credit ratings, have never failed a bond inspection or been in trouble with the law, who have both worked full time up till now with no kids, cannot foresee owning a house in the next five years, probably more.)

A lot of homeowners try to make me feel better by saying things like - but you don't have to pay rates, you aren't responsible for the upkeep of your house. True, but we also get inspected every three months, we can't own a dog, we can't paint or decorate, we can't put in the dream vege garden from my head, we are constantly planning to have to move, and we are paying more in rent, than we would be if we had a mortgage. I'm worried that our baby will draw on the walls. I am worried that something will break and it will be our fault. The amount of stress involved in a flat inspection is just not on. So yes, I still dream of owning my own house, despite our current house being a super awesome place to live.

Anyway, back to Baby.

I am flitting between calm belief that I can do this without problems, and then overwhelming anxiety that a) I will force us into an emergency birth by panicking and letting too much adrenalin and cortisol into my system. Or b) I will be a terrible mum. Or c) I have already ruined my baby's life by eating too much McDonalds whilst pregnant.

I have washed most of the baby stuff now, such cute clothes that I hope she fits. My new fear is that she will be 8 pounds of more, and not fit any of the cute new born stuff we have for her! The staff are running a sweepstake on the weight at school, which is kind of more than a little embarrassing.

Much as I love my job, and know that I will probably go crazy when maternity leave really starts, it's a bit of a relief to not have to be there sometimes. To have a break from feeling like a new breed of Hippo while I lug my laptop between classrooms, or go all the way to the photocopy room only to realise I've forgotten to bring the photocopying with me. On monday I found myself in the deputy principals office desperately trying not to become 'the crying pregnant woman', as I explained that I didn't think I'd be able to last until the end of next week, as the pain associated with walking (feet, back, hips, groin, sides, legs...pretty much everything), and the exhaustion of not sleeping longer than an hour at a time (night sweats, toilet, rolling over, nightmares), all combined with my overwhelming self guilt trip over my declining teaching standards as a result (lack of energy, lack of excitement, sitting down all the time) were all making things pretty near unbearable. He was super understanding and showed me that I can take time off whenever needed, and that everyone is in place to take over my classes from monday. Of course, I didn't mention about the douchebag male staff members making teasing comments (about my walk, my weight, my mood, the labour, the birth, my teaching) that make me want to cry. Of course, they think they are absolutely hilarious.

They are lucky I don't have the balls to actually punch them in the face.

Insanity At 34 Weeks

Well, Miltown. I'd like to know what side effects you caused that meant you are no longer curing 88% of pregnant women of anxiety, insomnia and emotional upsets. Where were you last weekend when I had a complete meltdown and for some reason thought that locking my poor darling husband in the garage was the appropriate response to what had begun as a minor argument.

NB - my sister talked me into letting him out within 10 minutes via text. He had by that time, got a sleeping bag and made a bed in the back of the car. We'd both like to thank my sister for quickly texting some sense into me. I realise, that I can now expect that to be used against me for pretty much anything that pops up in the future. There is nothing ok about what I did.

I was temporarily Insane.
For an entire weekend.

That said, it is fair to say that things are heating up. At 34 weeks, I am now having night sweats. Which, let me tell you, are a little more intense than the average "I'm-too-hot-must-remove-some-covers" night sweats. These involve me waking up LITERALLY DRENCHED, having to change pyjamas, wipe off with a flannel, let the bed air out. By which time, I am wide awake and once again need to pee. When I get back the sheets are freezing and still damp, so I've recently taken to sleeping on a towel, but that only stops the bottom sheet getting wet. Somehow, my husband manages to sleep through all of this. I did wake him up once, to check that I wasn't imagining it, but it took him so long to awaken from his peaceful slumber, that there wasn't much left to see. The midwife says it's hormonal, and there are no tricks that she can recommend to help. But I already knew that, because by the time I asked her about it, I'd already well researched it on google.

Little Baby is now taking up so much room, I am worried about how much space can be left to occupy. She is kicking and rolling and punching up a storm, and has an uncanny knack of ensuring my bladder gets pummelled at least 3 times a class, twice when I'm driving, anytime I'm sitting somewhere very difficult to get up from. Which is giving those pelvic floor muscles little emergency incontinence 'drills'. "Are you ready? No? Well I don't care! WHACK!"



I'm managing my anxiety relatively ok, the hypnobirthing thinking and relaxation is most definitely helping. All the same, I am finding that if I am left alone for too long, I start thinking far too much, and start to panic a little....ok a lot, about labour and my ability to cope with sleep deprivation, to be a good mum, to be a good wife, to be able to let go of a lot of things and make friends with other mums. We are the first of our friends to have a baby, so it's a little daunting.





On the other hand, I've got all these plans for when Baby gets here. We are going to make an awesome potted Vege garden....or rather, I will, and the baby will be there in her bouncinet, carefully covered in baby safe sunscreen (which I bought this week). We will go for walks with her in the pram, and we will visit library story times, and play groups, and we will go to mums'n'bubs sessions at the movies when she's old enough and..and...and.....there is just SO MUCH FUN WE WILL HAVE!

Please don't be late Baby! I have no where left to grow, and I can't wait to hang out with you!

Baby Kickboxers, Bedtime Stories, Classes and Workouts

Baby is at 33 weeks now - and we are so close and yet still so far from meeting her. I read a blog yesterday about people getting told they were having a girl on four different occasions from four different scans, but the baby still came out a boy....so now Hubby and I are back to calling it 'It' for a while. 

Anyway, Baby is producing some epic kicks and rolls now. It's like having a tiny acrobat in my tummy, yet I never seem able to get Hubby to see or feel the really big moves. It's like a cruel trick, I alert him to what's happening, he eagerly looks or feels, and Baby stops. Just long enough for him to decide Baby doesn't like him, and for him to go away feeling glum. On the upside, we (I mean Husband) is reading 'The Faraway Tree' aloud each night for Baby to get used to his voice and 

(hopefully) to boost It's love of stories and general awesomeness. If nothing else, I'm rather enjoying being transported back to my own childhood each evening, although the stories seem rather a lot more scary than I remember, and I'm wondering if they aren't a source of my original anxiety issues - strong winds meaning bad things, getting trapped in strange places with no way out.......

But enough of that! I've decided that the third trimester is designed to force mothers to strengthen their arms in preparation of the impending Baby carrying duties. I sure feel like I am working out my biceps on a regular basis, pushing myself up out of bed, off couches, pulling myself out of the car, lifting myself out of the bath. Not just that, but the number of times I must wake up each night is certainly good training for living with a new born....otherwise what's the point?

I think I have everything ready now. My (expensive!) very awesome nappy bag arrived last week, and I already have it packed and ready to go with whatever Baby might need. I really just want It to arrive, so that I can see and hold and cuddle and just....be with It. I am really struggling to keep my head in the game at work, and not just because walking while carrying laptops and books and folders is now a super undesirable activity, but because the date of arrival is drawing ever closer and I just get too excited to worry about whether 'johnny' understands what a city state is, or if 'jane' really gets what I mean when I say 'four beats per bar' and she nods in agreement. But I'm doing my best, I try to get up and walk around the classroom as much as possible. I try to still think of and create interesting activities if I can. Next week is a giant choir festival which I unwittingly created last year, so once that is over, the countdown can really begin.

Hubby and I have all but abandoned out antenatal classes in favour of the hypnobirthing ones. Antenatal classes seem to focus on every possible bad outcome, all the pain relief available, all the medical interventions, and to be honest, they freaked me out. After hearing about the three stages of Labour over the course of 3 weeks, my anxiety had sky rocketed again and I was starting to have panic attacks when I was left alone for any amount of time. On the other hand, hypnobirthing focuses on the fact that birth is a normal process, it's happened for thousands of years, all over the world, to mothers in far less favourable conditions than ours. It teaches you that your body and the Baby know what to do, and that in order for that to happen best, the mother needs to be as relaxed as possible. We have another session tomorrow, and I'll write a post dedicated to it. Needless to say, if nothing else, it is definitely keeping me calm, positive and relaxed in the lead up to the delivery day. 

In the meantime, we are going to see The Conjuring tonight....and YES, I did check with my midwife, that that was ok. 

Look! Baby is rolling over now!! ......oh wait, you missed it. :( 

I reckon, our baby will be THIS CUTE