Saturday, August 30, 2008

Don't Phone Me

I'm not interesting right now. In fact, I'm the complete opposite of interesting. Actually, the only word I can think of isn't an opposite, but I'm feeling so gross I'm not even sure if I care whether my word is an antonym or not. This has to be a sure sign that things are going down hill: A lack of interest in parts of speech and grammar.

I'm repulsive. Or at least I feel repulsive. Or repulsed. Which in the end is closer to being an antonym of interesting than I thought. Or at least interested. Where was I? Repulsed.

I'm repulsed by everything. And if you phone me I'll tell you about all the things that are repulsing me right now. Or I might just tell you I can't talk because talking makes me want to vomit. And then, after I hang up the phone even though I'm bored and want to talk, I'll lecture myself about how I shouldn't feel sorry for myself because somewhere in the world there is a pregnant widow with 6 children who has to get up every day and plow a field and struggle to feed her starving children while taking breaks to retch pitifully in a ditch because she's got morning sickness on top of all her troubles. Which makes me feel better and worse about my current state all at the same time.

That was depressing. See what I mean about repulsive being the opposite of interesting? That's as good as it gets here right now. Just ask poor Glen. Phone him. Ask him. But don't phone me. For your sake.

(This sucks.)

Monday, August 25, 2008

It's all over but the crying... And the puking.

The daycare search did not, needless to say, go well. The story I mentioned below was the grand finale of two days of phone calls and visits, with things going from blah to just plain rotten. I came home after the talk with the girl that thought I was crazy (who happened to be my last hope) and cried a little, wrote my blog post, called the school to give them my answer, and packed up to go to the lake.

We had a great time, aside from my constant companion: Nausea. Ahhhh... The pleasures of pregnancy. It's so fun to choke down my favorite foods like I'm on an episode of Survivor trying to eat Balut faster than the guy across the table from me.

Speaking of Balut... If you don't mind a little swearing, okay, a lot of swearing, here's a website I stumbled across this afternoon while I was trying to figure out what those duck fetus things were that people always eat on shows like Fear Factor. It made me laugh. And gag.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Am I Freaky-Crazy-Paranoid?

Tell me the honest truth here. I can take it.

Working with children my whole life has meant I've had a lot of police record checks run. I've always just assumed they went part and parcel with being put in a position of trust with children who aren't mine. So it seemed normal to me to ask people who run daycares if they've had one done, and if the adults (spouses) living in the home who will have contact with my children have had one.

Today I totally freaked out a girl running a daycare out of her home by asking for one. She was completely offended and couldn't believe I would ask that. I'm not exaggerating. I thought she might cry at one point. She says she's never had that asked before and that if I couldn't trust her she didn't want my children in her home.

Um. Okay. Take a step back here Becky and analyze the situation. Have you gone off the deep-end? I always thought a police record check was the bare minimum you should do when hiring childcare providers, but could I have been mistaken? Am I a freak?

I ask you this, my readers, because I know lots of you are moms and some of you have your children in childcare. I'm new at this whole hiring-a-stranger-to-look-after-my-two-most-precious-treasures, and I'm in unfamiliar territory. Is she nuts? Or am I?

Give it to me straight.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

I Want Both

First of all, kudos to me on making it through five hundred blog posts. I missed throwing myself a big party, but the last post was the big one... My five hundredth post. I'll have to try to remember to have a party when I make it to a thousand since I missed celebrating my hundredth post too. Oh well.

In other news I'm considering going back to work full-time. I was offered a perfect job at a nearly perfect school teaching in a grade two classroom till the end of March. This works out perfectly for me since I would want to go on maternity leave at the end of March anyways. And, if I'm working full-time I could actually go on a paid maternity leave for the first time ever. Which would be fab.

I'm having trouble deciding what to do though. I want the job. I want the money really badly, but even more I want the classroom. I want the little grade twos. I want to work at that school every day in my very own classroom. I really want it. And we need the dough.

However, I also want to be a stay at home mom. I want to hang out with my boys every day and be with them for all their funny, crazy, bad, and sad moments. I don't like the thought of a stranger, or anyone else for that matter, comforting them when they are sad or scared. I don't like the idea of someone else laughing at the funny things they do while I am busy working. And I know for a fact that I will be exhausted by the time I drag my pregnant behind home every day. I'm not sure if the money is worth missing the next seven months of the boys' lives.

Plus I'd have to find a daycare I felt comfortable with... A task that has so far been proving pretty difficult.

And then there's this whole pregnancy thing, which I have to admit is dragging at me a little bit. So far, it seems like I don't start feeling better till around 2 or 3 in the afternoon. Running down the hallway to vomit is a lot easier at home than it would be at school. Just the thought of all that moving around so early in the morning makes me queasy. I know I won't feel this way forever, but I probably will for at least a few more months.

What to do... What to do?

Monday, August 11, 2008

You Guessed It!

ATTENTION MEN: For those of you who are uninterested, and quite possibly uncomfortable with a post centered around ovulation, I've posted a video at the bottom. Just scroll through all the stuff about making babies. The rest of you can read on.

More than a few of you have asked for details about the Willems-on-the-way. So here they are... Or at least, here are the G-rated details.

Because I am a copy-cat by nature, I put a little ticker over in my sidebar so we can all keep track of how FAR I have to go. I stole that idea from my sister-in-law
Melissa, who is also expecting. Actually, pretty much every one I know seems to be expecting. My Aunty Carolyn is expecting again too. Which is wild because we were pregnant together with Ben and her first son Ethan, and Sam and and her son Connor are only a few weeks apart. Like I said, I'm a copy-cat, and I couldn't stand for her to be pregnant again without me.

Actually, this baby has been in the planning stage since the new year. I've been charting away for months, trying to pin down the exact day in my cycle that I ovulate. (I'll spare you, and especially Dad just in case he's still reading, all the gory details of just what I've been keeping track of, but you women out there know what I'm talking about.) All this to try and stack the odds in favor of a girl.

Last month I finally decided I had enough information to proceed, and figured because I was aiming for a girl it might take longer than usual to get pregnant. (This is because, for a girl, it's a good idea to stop all efforts about four days before ovulation, which cuts your chances of being pregnant down significantly. This has to do with the lifespan of boy sperm and girl sperm, and you can read all about that in the link above.) Either I badly miscalculated, or things worked out just right, because I got pregnant the first try. (I just noticed that this whole paragraph only mentions "I". Ha ha. Glen was there too. In case you were wondering.)

I knew within a few days of conception that I was pregnant. I'll spare you, and especially Dad, all the gory details and symptoms, but I had a pretty good idea a few weeks before I could take a test to confirm that sometime in April we will either greet our first daughter, or yet another boy determined to keep me from buying pink sleepers and Barbies.

So there you have it. And now, without further ado, I give you: "Daredevil attempts to jump a rocket-assisted Lincoln over the St. Lawrence river."

You have to read some of the comments people have posted about this, I think they may actually be as funny as the video. Here are some of mine and Glen's faves:

"'Powers was lucky, he had broken his back' without the context, that's hilarious."

Yes, it surely is.

"my mom said son you're gonna drive me to drinkin' if you don't stop drivin' that hot rod lincoln! haha"

And last but not least...

"I think he watched one too many cartoons to think attaching a rocket and a couple teeny wings would make that tank of a car gracefully fly a mile through the air. What a tard."

LOL. Indeed.

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Guess What?