House Painting

I may have mentioned earlier that I wanted to paint the outside of my house. Not me, per se, but have it done by someone else. Being in my current condition, I can't be scaling up and down ladders, so we've (ok, I've) been interviewing potential contractors for the job.

I compared 3 companies: a student-run company, a professional company, and a Joe Blow do-it-yourselfer contractor. I got the best feeling from the contractor, and the best price, and since he got recommended by a coworker (and technically, about 15 of her neighbours too), I think I'll be giving him the job.

My problem now is what to choose for colours. I've got a peachy-pink house, with some heritage detailing (octagon window, wood panelled gable) and would like to have a richer palette to reflect this.

I'll post photos once I decide and when it's finished.

Massage

I went in for my prenatal massage at Soma Studio, a place specializing in pregnancy massage.

Having never been there before, it's in a strange, artsy building, like a condo development, but everything's made up of metal. The open-air stairwells, outside walls and doors were all metallic. Neat port-holes in elevator. All the bronze and the neutrals gave me an eerie feeling like I was on the set of Waterworld. Alas, no sign of Kevin Costner around.

The suite's entrance was pretty indescript. Save for the small signage on the door, I would've sworn I had the wrong place, and would end up knocking on the residential door of someone named Uma, Rainbow or Cosmo.

I met my RMT (Registered Massage Therapist), Ateshia, at the desk: tall, blond, leggy, young, beautiful, of course all of the above, a sharp contrast to my older, short, fat, dark-haired self.

She showed me to my room. In for a 1-hour massage, I quickly settled myself face down on the table after she left the room briefly, anxious to see if my sore back could be relieved. Bolsters were set up for my chest and hips, leaving a space between to accomodate my swollen belly.

The room was small, perhaps 7x10, with a tiny, pretty concrete patio beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass sliding door, adorned with a small fountain, climbing ivys and other greenery and a few token zen Buddhist items. The Granville St bridge traffic was audible, but not overbearing. New age music emanated from a small stereo behind me.

Despite her appearance (looks CAN be deceiving), Ateshia is stronger than she looks. I consider myself to have a high pain tolerance but almost gave in a few times under her brute strength. I'll surely bruise later.

She worked on my calves and hips, and then on my back, shoulders and neck. I'm sure she could tell I tensed up a few times, my body shocked from her amazonian strength.

When the massage was complete, energized isn't the word I'd use. Peaceful? Maybe. Sore? Definitely. Calm? Yes, a much needed sense of warmth.

I made another appointment with her the following week, figuring a massage is ALWAYS a good idea, pregnant or not, if you can get it. My Extended Health covers most of it, so as I see it, it would be a crime NOT to take advantage of the System.

Being pregnant offers a chance to splurge and spoil myself. I could get used to this!

When a Mother Just Wants To Disappear....

I went grocery shopping with my toddler the other day. I haven't gone for a good, solid trip in weeks. I'd pick up something simple for dinner one day, or eat out another day, but it's been a while since I actually ran up a huge grocery bill. Tonight's the night!

So, with my husband being at a softball practice, it was me and kid out to get groceries.

Tell me, moms out there, why is it that when you have your kid(s) with you, you always end up getting the f#!$ed up shopping cart!?! You know, the one where the one wheel rotates furiously fast, the cart needs every ounce of strength to push to overcome the defunct wheel, and the most irritating foghorn of a screech eminating from the wheels as you try and maneuver QUIETLY down the aisles? And to top it all off, you trying to discipline your kid OVER the screeching?

I swear everyone knew we were behind them!I have become one of them! Them, you ask? Yes, those parents you see in the stores trying to balance something as routine as grocery shopping with a kid in tow. Sound easy? HA, you fool!

I spent two whole hours in the grocery store, to buy only $150 worth of groceries. That's 80 cents being spent every minute I was in there. So? That's like picking up a small can of soup EVERY MINUTE! Pick up a can, wait 60 seconds, ooo, another can of soup! Pick it up, walk for 60 seconds, wow, another can of soup! 120 cans of soup later is when I left the store.

Of course I didn't just buy soup. But you get my drift. No one buys soup that way, and no one should spend 2 hours grocery shopping. Hell, I've never even spent that much time in Costco, and you can eat forever in there and watch a whole movie!

So I crashed that night, exhausted, in tears, wondering why I try to do everything myself.

Because I'm a Mom and that's what we do.

Pregnancy So Far

I'll be 19 weeks tomorrow!

People have asked me how I'm doing with the pregnancy. I tell people I feel fat. More recently, now, I do feel more pregnant but every bit as fat. I'm definitely showing now, no denying it. I just hope I don't gain too much weight in the long run.

Yes, I know I'm supposed to gain weight, and "Eat For Two". But, really, folks, I'm only supposed to eat an extra 300 calories a day. What's that equivalent to? I found these yummy looking recipes that I think I"ll have to try.

My tummy fat has created a belly that now feels huge. I guess I'll have to expect to get bigger, and get used to it. Being pregnant the second time around is so different!

The first time around, you're excited about everything changing, not knowing what to expect, the fear, the joy, etc. The next time around, you just want to get it over with, and start rearing this kid NOW! Family dynamics change too, when adding an extra kid. I'd rather just start dealing with all that and not the incessant waddling that comes with being pregnant, and feeling like you've got indigestion all day, when you really don't because you haven't eaten and it's actually time to eat again.

I may not update everyone about my pregnancy here all the time, but you can go to my dedicated Babies Online website dedicated to Baby #2 here. Email me for the password.

On the exercise front, I've managed to plug into, twice, my Leisa Hart's Pregnancy Workout, and salsa-danced my way to a healthier me. I'm not there yet, ha, but I'm trying. I've gone for one 2-km walk with the family, but that probably won't happen again, at least not with them, since the last 1/4 km, my husband practically carried my 3-year-old home because he was tired walking. (who can blame him?). Maybe I'll find time to go by myself. I"m trying to remain optimistic!

Sleeping at night is a drag sometimes; sleeping on my left side ALL THE TIME is starting to take its toll. I wake up all crampy and tight. Sometimes in the morning I roll over to my right side and sigh a great relief of comfort...but only for a little while I do the same when I succumb to lying on my back for a bit. AHHH! Something about the baby having poor circulation while on my back or right side.....that just sucks! Part of the reason why I wake up in the middle of the night (like right now!) and find it difficult to go back to sleep. I got my handy ergonomic pillow between my knees to take off the minor back pain!

I can't think right now...I need a midnight snack. Ok, it's more like 2 am. Darn, I ate all my English Cream crackers, and I've got no more cream cheese. Bread? I think we're out. I think I have some watermelon that's still good. Maybe some cheese? The havarti hasn't molded, but haven't checked out the cheddar recently.

I really need to go grocery shopping!

Drunk Husbands...part 2

Here we go again.

Talking to a drunk husband is worse than talking to a 3-year-old. Three-year-olds respond to the best of their ability, no matter what the question. Are you hungry, are you sad, are you sleepy, and they'd answer to are you drunk, if they understood the concept.

Apparently, drunk husbands don't understand the concept either...or any concepts, for that matter.

Wake up, it's 6:15, when's your tee time time?

It's 6:15, your cell phone is ringing. Are you missing golf?

Wake up, and answer your phone!

Waking up a naked blob of flesh on your livingroom sofa isn't what I call a great start to a Holiday.

To everyone BUT my husband, Happy Canada Day! I hope his Canada Day is just plain awful, if he still heads into work at noon (I doubt THAT will happen!), since he probably had a spankin' Canada Day Eve!