Old Friends

My dad, and his wife, Lesa, are remodeling my dad's old farm house. It's not even going to look like the same house when they are finished. I know our family has outgrown the house, as far as holidays go, all 20 or so of us crammed around one Christmas tree, wrapping paper flying and piling so high I can't see my sister across the room. And I know the house needed updating, but it's hard to see all my mom's decorating ideas torn down, thrown away and/or burned. All the curtains she sewed, the wallpaper we hung, gone. To be honest, it breaks my heart.

Anyway, the real reason for this post is to tell you how excited I am to be reunited with my old friends, Glory and baby Glory. They have been up in the attic for way too long. I loved My Little Ponies as a little girl. I probably played with them longer than I should have. I can remember Sara and I writing a play in 5th grade and trying to get all our classmates to crawl around on their hands and knees and pretend to be Ponies for the play. Needless to say, our class never performed that play. I think 5th grade was a little too late for My Little Ponies. I can also remember a night when mom and dad were gone and Matt was supposed to babysit Sara and I and he invited friends over to drink beer and watch Animal House and Sara and I rented the My Little Pony movie. He didn't let us watch Animal House, but they stacked their empty beer cans high on the coffee table and Sara and I spent the rest of the night throwing superballs at the beer can pyramids.

The My Little Ponies are different now, none of the same ones we had are for sale anymore, except on ebay. My baby Glory still has her diaper on and her little necklace says B-A-B-Y in block letters, and Glory has some very (sad) 80's neon orange and yellow outfit with a tie and mesh accents. Used to spend hours brushing their tail and playing with the Dream Castle, and the Baby Bonnet School of Dance.

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. ~From the television show The Wonder Years

Photo Op

Look what I saw Friday on my way home. Aren't they cute? I drove past them, and they seemed very calm, on the side of the road eating something. They were so calm that I thought one of them might be hurt. I hurriedly turn my car around, got out my camera, and rolled down the window all at the same time. I was so happy to have the opportunity to see them and photograph them. Neither one was hurt, just curious I guess. They let me take some shots, and then scurried back into the woods. I was glad they were not near the road anymore. I guess fawns come as twins most of the time, and hopefully their mom was nearby.

Check

Last Saturday was another Game Night and we played Texas Hold "em. I didn't win one hand.

Seeking Advice

Since I work for my family, and have never really had any sort of major job outside of the family business, the idea of maternity leave is a world unknown. I have no idea what to expect, for myself, or from my employer (a.k.a. my dad.) So, I'm trying to take a poll, so I can put together some sort of educated proposal to my dad about what to expect when the baby comes. This is where you come in.

I have two main questions, and you can answer anonymously if it suits you. I don't need specific company names, just a general idea of how things are done "out there." If you are a male, but you know your employer's policy on maternity leave, I would appreciate if you answered too. Main objective is to gather info at this point in time. Pretend I'm the researcher and you are the researchee. The more answers I can get the better.

Question #1: How long is the average maternity leave? It would also be helpful if you could tell me the minimum time off you think I could take.

Questions #2 Who, if anybody, pays for the maternity leave? If you take time off, is it unpaid, or do you take vacation days until those run out and then take unpaid leave? Does your employer pay for some of the maternity leave, and you supplement additional time off with vacation days?

Thank you in advance for your answers.

This is a Story of a Girl

"A girl," the ultrasound technician says. "A girl?" John's and my eyes get big. "Yes, a girl." Neither one of us were expecting a girl. I don't know where or how we got the notion that it was a boy, but we did.

Can I properly raise a girl? I have mother/daughter issues. I know John is thinking along those same lines- he was a teenage boy not so long ago. Already this little one is full of surprises. Don't get me wrong, when I think of babies, I think of girl babies. Girl clothes are so much better, and bows, and ribbons for her hair. What mom or woman doesn't want a little girl? It's not the "little" part I'm apprehensive about. It's those pesky teenage years, and sometimes way past the teenage years. I haven't been shy about admitting the fact that my mom and I did not see eye to eye on everything, or sometimes anything. From about the time I was 12, my hormones were raging, and her cancer was diagnosed. A more unhappy combination could not be found. Just ask my dad. You name it, we fought about it, clothes, boys, cleanliness of rooms, driving, whatever. I was the typical obnoxious, gangly, sex-crazed, know-it-all 16 year old, and my mom was the exact opposite (except maybe for the know-it-all part...and maybe the sex, but let's not go there)

Boys are easier, right? Boys don't carry around all those emotions, sulking for hours in their room, talking for even more hours on the phone, and god knows what else.

I looked at John in the waiting room, and said, "at least I might have 12 good years with her before she hates me."

The only thing that keeps me from dwelling on all this so much is the good examples that go before me, mostly my sister, Christy and her daughter, Abbey, and the Sutters; Sue, Sally and Jill. I imagine they have their spats, but they seem to get along and like to be around one another, and that is encouraging. History does not have to repeat itself. I know this. I am banking on this.

Be My Baby

We had our 20 week ultrasound today. This is a picture of the baby. I know it probably looks like a bunch of white and brown blobs, but bear with me and try to visualize the head at the bottom left, the body in the bottom middle, and near the top right is the bum, and the legs somewhere up there in no man's land. Can't really see the legs. She weighs 13 oz. We saw her bladder, all 4 heart ventricles, and all sorts of other organs I can't remember right now. They also moved my due date back 2 days.

You May Take the Field

If you are serious about marching band, like John is, then you know all about Drum Corps International. I, personally, had never heard of Drum Corps until college. Some of you, I would imagine, have never heard of Drums Corps. It is a group of musicians, I think their ages can be between 18 and 23, who get together during the summer to learn a show (similar to a halftime show at football games) and tour the nation in busses. John was in one in the summer of 1994 called Phantom Regiment. Every year we go to a show or two, this year and the past couple years we have gone to Columbia to see a show. And even though John and I see the same thing, we watch two opposite parts of the show. I, of course, watch the flaggies, since that's what I used to do. I hear the music and watch the flags twirl around to the music. I am always amazed at how "together" they are, their routines seem so hard, and there are so many of them. John, on the other hand, watches the marching, what shapes they make on the field, etc. He can also listen to drum corps shows on itunes all day. This is not for me. Niether is what he is doing tonight. Tonight is the World Championship Quarterfinals and they are showing it in select movie theatres around the nation. He is there with Mike, and they will continue to be there for the next 5 AND A HALF HOURS. I originally agreed to go; there are many bands I like, and John makes sure I am partial to Regiment. Personally, the videographer never shows me enough flags to make me happy on the big screen. I did have to decline once I heard how long the show was going to be, and thankfully he wasn't offended. Anyway, the pictures above are from the Columbia show. Good job flaggies.

Soapbox.

You know that part about having more time to blog? That only counts when your computer is working. We were plagued with pop-ups, but my wonderfully smart husband got rid of all of them for us. I'll never understand how he knows so much about computers.

So, here's an interesting shot of my belly. The one with the black top and scrubs was taken last weekend at 19 weeks. I decided to tuck the drawstring into the pants (for some unknown reason and now it looks like I have a hard on or something.) Hopefully I'll get better at the belly shots. The one with the blue top was taken at 15 weeks. I swear I feel much more different than these pictures are giving me credit for. I strangely feel like I don't know how I'm going to gain more weight. When I look down, I look huge. I was blessed with the body type of flat belly and fat ass, so even when I gain weight, I have never really had the "pot." It's so strange. I had a hard time painting my toenails today. I can't imagine getting bigger. Is that possible? Is that natural? (I know, I know, 'yes,' and 'yes.') Ug.

I haven't had any major things to complain about though, so far anyway. A few days of nausea at the very beginning, a few nights of lost sleep trying to figure out how the hell I'm only supposed to sleep on my left (or occassionaly right) side. I've felt dizzy and light headed a couple times and I've gained ~ 10 pounds. No crazy hairs sticking out or dark line coming from my belly button. Successfully pulling off the anti Pregnant Prima Donna Routine that I hate other women so much for. "I can't eat that, I don't feel good, I get special treatment" bullshit. I just want to tell them all to "Shut Up." You're pregnant, not sick. I have very little patience or sympathy for people with tiny health problems. I think it stems from being around mom when she didn't feel good. I think she probably took it to extreme on the other side of things, she never complained about being sick, she trudged on. She hid her pain so well, that when she finally did feel really bad, we didn't believe it and were in denial. Looking back on that time now, we should have given her a lot more breaks, or been more grateful for her stamina and perserverance and will to not want to seem sick or weak. I have definently inherited that mindframe from her. If my mom can not complain when she has cancer, I think Pregnant Prima Donnas should not complain either, therefore, eventually not existing at all.

One Week and Two Days Ago

For those of you that don't know, Ste. Genevieve has a Municipal Band, paid by city taxes. John is the director, and I play bassoon. It is made up of old people, like us, and high school kids. We practice every Tuesday and perform every Thursday all summer; 10 concerts a year. All of them are very entertaining, great music, some of them are very hot; me and my instrument baking in the heat coming off the Valle desert blacktop. This past Thursday was our last concert of the season, so my blogging just might become a lot more frequent. I have a ton of stuff to show you and talk about. Anyway, back to the picture, one week and two days ago, 19 month old Char was the guest conductor of the band. Every week this summer he has been the star of the show, running around, greeting all the locals, laughing at John in front, or Sara in back. Chuck, on the other hand, gets two workouts on Thursdays, one with John at the gym, and one at the concert chasing his baby around. So, the band decided to give Char the proper attention he deserved and put him center stage. He was the youngest guest conductor ever for the Muny Band. He did an excellent job, even clapping for himself at the end. This picture at the bottom was my vantage point; right behind the oboes.
If you think Char looks familiar, he's been featured here on the blog quite a bit, but I guess not in awhile. Click here for the last time you saw Char.