Money not magic

It snowed over three inches over the weekend. The weather has been so cold (and will stay that way for the rest of the week), that the snow isn't going anywhere.

So driving to work this morning, with the sun shining and the snow everywhere, it really was a winter wonderland. With Christmas being so close, it rouses that truly magic feeling of Christmas, and I started thinking about all the things that we do as a family, or will get to start doing as a family when that magic of Christmas and the holidays is in the air.

You see, it's not really about the money spent, but the memories you create. I keep thinking about it's almost certain that Ava & I (and our other beautiful children who are not quite thought of just yet) will most certainly spend a holiday without Steve as he is almost certainly destined for his recall to active duty. And as I mused while drinking my hot chocolate and eating my sticky bun, I thought about the things we could do that don't necessarily cost money, but help that magic feeling of the holidays linger and create something truly special. Even if my husband/their father couldn't be physically with us to share in that special time.

Things like christmas music, holiday movies, neighborhood road trips to check out the lighting of peoples houses, giving to a cause greater than us, making decorations, taking photos, making hot chocolate on a cold night while creating something to send to Dad...All makes me think that the magic of christmas isn't in the money we spend, but the memories we take the time and effort to create..

I'll try and get some pictures of the neighborhood up, because everything looks so clean, white and beautiful. Merry Christmas all.

And her name is...

It didn't take long to establish she was a girl. We checked to make sure three times. Everytime it just got clearer and clearer, as it became certain that there were no boy bits. Just a beautiful little girl.

We called her Ava Francis after her grandma. Grandma Fran was an amazing lady who I never had the pleasure of meeting, but she seemed to touch lives whereever she went. Even my mother in law told me she was spoilt to have been blessed by such a wonderful mother-in-law, and Steve and Gary's faces soften every time "Nana" is mentioned.

This is Steve with his Nana. So Ava Francis Herr it is. I couldn't take the credit for Ava, that was Steve's choice. And I never thought I'd be mad about Francis in a girl's name ever, but it seems to fit perfectly.

NB: After posting this I recieved an email from Aunt Loeta who told me I might want to know that her name was spelt Frances, and I may want to know that before inking it on the birth certificate...Even though I checked with FIL like 3 times, and he swore it was right !!! So infuriating, but glad to have it straightened out.

Is it pink or blue ?

Ok...So excuse me for feeling slightly nervous here...

For 13 weeks now, this little things swimming inside my tummy has been a prawn, a blob, a foetus and finally a wriggle. Something that seemed cute in theory but nothing overtly realistic. I could have probably gotten away with telling people my swelling belly was one too many trips to red robin.

But it wouldn't happen like that. Twinges and tugs, like someone is using my ligaments as a hammock, reminded me that there is something smaller, but so much bigger than me.

Tonight we find out. It's no longer the thing. It's either a boy or a girl. Pink or Blue. Football or Ballet ? Stay tuned.....

A Thump ?

A Thump ?
So the wriggle has been jumping on my pelvic floor for some time now. Not so much kicks, more twinges behind my belly button or a kick to the muscles in my groin when I play country music too loud.

But lately, it has been making it's presence more known, like softly beating from the inside skin of a drum. And Steve finally felt it too last night. I think its' kind of sweet that despite being all rough and tough, when I ask him excitedly to give me his hand to put on my belly, he touches so gingerly. But last night that wasn't going to cut it.

"No...You need to push harder. Like this", as I pushed firmly into where I thought we would find some action. He sat there for a few moments, until his eyes opened wide and I sat "Did you feel that ?!?!" to which he responded "Was it like....a Thump?"

"That's our baby!" I said smiling at him, glad to finally have brought him full circle into this great secret I am carrying.

"Wow." he said. Yep, wow indeed.

Stay tuned for big reveal on Friday. We finally get to find out if baby looks best in pink, or blue.
Stay blessed.

Up the duff = Frank the tank ?!?

So here it is...I seemed to be the only person that had a logical explanation for tree trunk legs/sore boobs/nausea/heightened sense of smell...And even the world of science wouldn't get on board with me when I called it the first time ?!?! How the heck IS THAT for mother's intuition hmmm ?

So right now the prawn is ten weeks old, about grape sized....mmmm grapes...I seem to be oscillationg between wanting to eat everything in sight, or opening the cupboard doors to boxes of dried rice only to discover that any further food prep is going to lead to some projectile up-chuck that even the most seasoned exorcist performing priest would have seen...

When does the glow come ? What about the cravings ?!?!? Seriously...

My saving grace came in my sister-in-law who wanted to remind me not to forget my heritage in amongst all this Weasly-producing business...I was sent a copy of 'Up The Duff'...A well known Aussie pregnancy book that actually doesn't make you feel like a giant floral tent. All you Yanks reading...take note...Up. The. Duff....It has an ocker ring to it..I get that..But seriously, any culture that can make a endearing yet colloquial term for pregnancy sound like a college drinking game has got a thumbs up from me.

Self-conciously purging...

So lately I've been having dreams where I wind up DE-facing myself. I always end up doing something which makes me look quite ugly, it's not painful or a physically hurting experience. It's an uncomfortable place to be in, as I feel that I shouldn't be feeling such a need to do it. But afterwards, I feel a lot calmer somehow. Don't freak, It's not that whole self-mutilation thing, because I don't need to feel physical pain in my dreams to be purged of whatever it is I'm trying to get rid of.

For example, I've dreamt about shaving my head a-la-Britney, and also lancing my face with a super long aestheticians lancing tool, hidden in a pink rifle bag. Yes, it was that long. I start to lance my face, and there's nothing actually on my face, like a pimple or boil. But as soon as I do lance it, this yellow stuff starts oozing out. And like I said, I feel uncomfortable for having to do it, as I know I'm not winning any beauty contests for it, and I guess you could say it temporarily makes me feel self-conscious, but I know I'm doing as a change for the better ?

Freudian I hear you say ?? Well I am inclined to agree, after the recent lack of activity with my mother and a very conscious effort to "let her go". The purging of a part of me seems rather fitting for what I am going through in my life, and even more so that it's an appendage or part that can always grow back. Perhaps it means there is a glimmer of hope. I Understand she's not going to change, but I need to extinguish that tiny hope that one day she will realise that I am so angry because of her treatment to me. I'm not going to cast her off, do not confuse that, and let me make that very plain. She is my mother. I love her. However she may have treated me.

But she is at a point where her actions, cause and effect or whatever you want to call it, are not even known to her, that they that ingrained in her psyche. And apparently nobody around her could bear to tell her, for fear of retribution, denial and a whole plethora of Medea like behavior. That is I suppose, where we beg to differ. I will acknowledge one fundamental difference however. I think it is a little easier for me to tell my mother she is sick and needs a lot of help given an entire ocean between us than if I were a spouse and living in the same bed. But at what price does your own dignity and relationships with the rest of your family have to suffer ?

I hate recreating paper trails. I loathe it. To the point where I would rather clean a toilet than have to dig through about 75 emails just to recreate something that someone has lost, and it ain't my fault.

In other news today: I got a glowing letter of recommendation from an old professor at UCCS, and now have to ask him to email it to the Grad school for my application, after I was persistent to the point of being obnoxious.

I am offically craving sunlight. Not warmth, just sunlight. Plain old Vitamin D.

I told my dad in not so certain terms I think he is weak for not standing up for me and Matt and Jas. He says otherwise. He says Mum is sick, and is staying with her cos he can't bear the thought of leaving her alone, but he doesn't have heart to tell her how sick she really is. The word schitzophrenic was bandied around...It seems like everyone is trying idolise I-don't-have-a-practising license Dr. Phil, and is telling me I should have more resepct for her. I told him I had yet to see any sort of chance or circumstance in which I am given any indication that he has ever stood up for me. Cos it ain't working. And I should spare a thought for him. You dug your own bed, lie in it. Thats what I have to say. Maybe one day I can have the compassion he has for mum, as she doesn't know what she does, but I need to get past the anger first. I don't know how long thats going to be. But im not going to beat myself over the chest for it. I see no need, for my health or my sanity, and my relationships too. Self-flagellation is not part of my creed.

I was touched by the most minor cultural exchange, but it made my day. I had a bowl of Pho in a Vietnamese restaurant and was presented with some spring rolls, and the sticky sweet chilli sauce to go along with it....oooookkkaaayyyyyy...Not how I've seen Vietnamese springs rolls before, but Ok. So when I ask for me asian basil and he brings it, and then sees I do it how your'e supposed to do it, he does this little happy dance that someone actually took the time to try his culture before americanising it, and ran off to get me some lettuce. Just a tiny insignificant detail of my day, but it meant a lot.

And that picture I took of Bear tonight just in from the rain/snow was too good to pass up. G'nite folks.

No pot of gold..

So several things since I have last posted. One: I took the GRE, I think I tanked. It's really indicative of how much I put into it, the results showed the effort (well, lack of). My heart wasn't really in it, the courses I want to do all don't require it, but i took it to make a contingency plan if I don't get in. The one I really want in on, I've been told I'm strong candidate for. I feel like I'm moving in a direction that seems positive and productive.

At the advice of my doctor (Dr. T), and hubby, I'm giving my folks a bit of a break. Mainly for myself, as I need to learn the Buddhist noble truth of detatchment. By eliminating suffering and expectation, I will learn to just let it go. Mainly speaking about my mother, I have to let go of the expectation she is just going to reform her ways and admit she is wrong, but i know it's not going to happen. So...rather than set myself up for heartache and disappointment, I just need to leave her alone for while, and figure how I'm going to let go of her treatment, towards me and other people. She will never figure out that maybe her behaviour has to change, rather than the whole world is against her. It really boils down to not wanting to be a part of that game any longer. The house has been remarkably peaceful for the last two weeks. She hasn't called, and I haven't called her. She rang last night, and I returned her call today. I was glad she got the presents, and yes I am doing fine. Life is good, I'll see you later. She told me I could 'give her a call sometime'. I said sure. It is going to be a while though. I need to grow without her, and right now I think I'm doing a splendid job.

Two other things, I've re-awakened my joy of walking, and even though it's only been a week, It shows. I feel better for it. I feel more organised, more capable, more likely to stick to a routine. Its crucial for me this year. The year to break the habits of inconsistency and actually do what my mind sets out to do. All of this from just putting one foot infront of the other. Not to mention, the simple joys I get from walked. An otter crossed my path yesterday. It hobbled from the muddy forest scrub on one side of the road, and quickly waddled down the water, with it's fat wedge tail wobbling behind. The very same day I saw the end of a rainbow. It ended right at the bottom of my street into the water. It was stunning. No pot of gold there. I saw an old man one the beach when I got there...Maybe he conned the Leprechaun into giving it over...

Time + Place = different face

I wonder if god has a bit of ADD sometimes. I know he has an incredibly warped sense of humour sometimes, it exists on a plane that totally trancends mine and I don't think I'll ever understand why he does what he does. It's better that way, I don't think I would be in awe of him quite so much if I did.

I mean ( And i'm being totally Kubrick-esque trippy here...So bear with me), how does one person stay in one spot for their beliefs and system of values, yet change their sphere they resolve in so dramatically. The person who you were back then, or the person who you are now....Which are you more suited to ? Maybe its the familiarity of what you saw, and not knowing what you cant see. Kind of like driving while facing backwards, but looking at a map thats taking you forwards.

When I get glimpses of what I left behind in Australia, it honestly astounds me. What I am, where I am, where I live, what I respect and what I take (even though I shouldn't) for granted is so far removed and so different from everything back then, and even now...Reminds me of a mouse on a wheel. Only thats all of them, and not me.

Was it some sort of cosmic search and rescue that brought me to this place in my life...or well almost four years ago..OK, three and a half. Is my husband just a vehicle for god in helping me figure out my place to start truly making my mark ? I don't think so, My husband is the most treasured gift God bestowed upon me, and stroke me dead if I ever take something so pristine for granted. I have this sense of contentment in my life, and even though I am driving backwards, looking at whats behind me to anticipate the road ahead, it gives me comfort to know that the rat race I am a part of now leaves me feeling like I have produced something, and I am on the way to making a difference for everything & everyone I encounter, not wondering where my life is after spending forgetful friday nights at the most happening bar.

It's written in the wind...

A sappy start to an otherwise important blog. I don't know whether the universe is telling things or not, but every corner I round there seems to be something about pregnancy. The maco clinic book, prenatal vitamins, I feel like the universe is telling me I need to stop thinking of that other world as something scary that will one day happen. Again, I promise I don't want one RIGHT NOW, but I'm starting to prepare my mind and body for that massive journey that will be bringing someone into the world.

Also...A eerily quiet start to the New Year. A definite lack of correspondance from my mother, which has been refreshingly peaceful. I made the resolution to bury the hatchet and accept her for the person she is, a theory easier said than done. This year is about me and making it happen, weeding through the BS. A mantra I know has been repeated consistently, but without making it real, and beign consistent myself, it's just another idea thats going down the drain.

Same thing with the baby weight. The amount of times I've stated a mission to get more healthy has been countless, but there is someone else involved this year too...I don't want my baby to have complications because I am fat. Being active is going to do so much more for me in every sense of the word.

baby at first sight....

So here we are 2008....and all of a sudden out of nowhere, I want to have a baby. Well...strike that from the record. I'm ready to start the pre-baby baby race. AKA, I'm ready to get in shape for having a baby.

I don't know where this came from. Perhaps it was Steve's new years resoloution for me, that I should try for my birthing weight. Thats kind of funny, getting rid of (lots of) baby fat to make way for baby. Chubby + baby weight = super heifer...I know that. I don't want this kid to come out screwed up because I couldn't be bothered to give it a kicking start by ditching the extra pounds. If I did that I already know they'd be in therapy, that I couldn't' care enough about myself to thus care about them.

I want to give it every chance it has. So here I am, not off the BC yet, but ramping up the folic acid, and wondering how much we need to budget to start setting up a nursery...Am I going mad ? I looked into a conceiving magazine (How nuts is that....there's not just a magazine industry for expecting mums, there's one for ladies hoping to become expectant mums) and found a world of baby/conceiving mania...All these products and gadgets I didn't know existed, but knew I simply HAD TO HAVE. Well OK, that's a lie...but all these funky gadgets and contraptions that made it seem impossible to have a baby without them.

So there it is...it's on the table...Babies finally made it onto my adult agenda. And it scares the heck out of me.