PooBou.com

Sorry for the delay in getting these online, but you wouldn’t believe the last 48 hours we’ve had. More updates to come too!  

It’s funny that I wrote the title for that last post at the time that I wrote it (Thursday night), because I assumed (since I had no TV or Internet access) that the storm was only affecting us out in the boonies. As it turns out, not so much. There are close to a million people in this area who still don’t have electricity tonight, and it just happens that our happy little home is one of them.

Last night was quite possibly one of the scariest nights of my life. Even in a house as solid as ours, 70 mph winds make the entire house (including our bed) shake, and every time I heard some unknown noise, I was convinced that it was someone in the house. Who on earth would go out looking for rape or murder victims in the middle of massive windstorm? I have no idea. But I was sure he knew that I was alone in the house. So even with the benefit of Unisom, I didn’t exactly have what one might call a restful night’s sleep. I was more in a drugged state of panic for hours on end.
 
This morning I got up and checked out the damage. There are branches everywhere. A tree in our front yard came down and took out part of our fence (that’ll be a fun expense). There was this big white metal thing in our front yard, and I couldn’t figure out what it was, until I saw that Carol (our across-the-street neighbor) had her entire fence taken out. Then I remembered that she had a little shelter for her horses in her yard (sort of a metal framed carport-style thing with a canvas roof), so that solved the mystery of the big pile of metal in our yard. Apparently when it came rolling out of her yard and into ours, it took out our mailbox. Carol was very apologetic about it, and said that she’d pay for the mailbox, but seriously, if she hadn’t said anything, I would’ve just thought it was the wind that had done it.

I drove all over the Eastside today looking for what, I’m not exactly sure. At first I thought I’d just find a Starbucks, get online for a while, charge my cell phone, and head back home. I quickly realized that every retail establishment imaginable was closed, because no one had electricity. I stopped at a hardware store to see if they had any regular old-fashioned phones (you know, so I could just plug it into the wall and have a dial tone? Instead of stupid cordless phones which need electricity to work?), but they were sold out. I managed to play the “I’m 8 1/2 months pregnant” card so they’d feel sorry for me and let me use their restroom. (There were 2 candles on the counter. The guy handed me a flashlight on my way in. Lovely.) I did manage to find one store that was running on generator power, and they happened to have a car charger for my particular model of cell phone, which made me ecstatically happy. That’s the best $7 I’ve spent all year. 

Finally, I gave up and headed home. Carol, the lovely across-the-street neighbor (oh she who has helped me break into my own home before) came over and helped me start our generator, which I didn’t know how to do because that’s always been Dave’s job. (Figures that the one time I really need him for something like this, he’s in another state, hmm?)

With the generator running, I was able to get online for a little while and get that last blog post up. The generator has since run out of gas, so I’m back to typing in the dark with the laptop on battery power. It appears that the wind took out a lot of cell phone towers in the area, so my one source of communication is pretty flaky. Oh, and the stupid, stupid well – our home’s source of water, which I hate with every fiber of my being – apparently runs on electricity too. So I have no tap water, and I can’t flush the toilets. Niiiiice. 

Just about the only good bit of news that I’ve heard all day (oh yeah, forgot to mention this earlier) is that DAVE GOT THE JOB!!! Which is awesome-awesome-awesome, and I’ll fill in more of those details when he gets home tomorrow and I can talk to him for more than 30 seconds without my cell phone signal breaking up.

For now, though, I have another date with my good friend Unisom. Maybe he’ll be more effective when there aren’t freight trains of wind whipping past my windows.

2 Comments »

Dave left tonight to fly to California. Well, to try to fly to California anyway. Turns out, we’ve been having some crazy weather here – tons of rain (moreso than usual), high winds, etc. He got to the airport with plenty of time to spare, but the parking garage was flooded out, so it took him a while to navigate that. Then, once he got inside, the airport was a madhouse because of all the weather delays, so he ended up missing his flight.

The reason he was trying to fly tonight is because he’s supposed to be interviewing all day tomorrow with the company that is his #1 job pick. He’s had numerous phone interviews with these people (seriously, I lost count somewhere around teleconference number eight), and it sounds like the job is basically his, but they have this whole thing about wanting to meet the people they hire in person. Go figure.

The thing is, this is the perfect job for him – it’s exactly what he wants to be doing, it’s local (in fact, it sounds like he’ll be mostly working from home, which is awesome for me and the baby), the pay is good, it’s basically ideal. He’s gotten himself pretty stressed out during the past week preparing for this interview because he really wants this job. Which is totally unlike Dave – I’m the one who worries, he’s the one who’s always calm and says that everything will work out just fine. So if this is making him anxious, it must be a really, really big deal.

So, since the flight tonight is apparently not going to happen, and it takes over an hour to drive the 25 miles from our house to the airport in rush hour traffic, he decided to just find a hotel room near the airport so he can get up early and catch the first flight out, and hopefully still make it to his interview with plenty of time to spare. The alternative is that he’ll have to say “sorry, unavoidably bad weather” to these people and reschedule for next week sometime, which certainly wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I know that he’d like to go ahead and get on with the interview process. (As would I – it’d be nice to not have to think about his job situation over the holidays.) So I’m really hoping and praying that there are no problems with early flights tomorrow.

Meanwhile, back to me: you know how we live in the boonies? And how our power goes out every time the wind blows? Well, just try to guess how well we’ve fared with this crazy weather. Right. I’ve been sitting in the dark for the past few hours.

Because really, it’s not like being alone in the boonies at night isn’t creepy enough on its own. And it’s not like I don’t already freak out over every little god-blessed noise when Dave isn’t here at night. For example, I’ve never almost jumped out of my skin because of the sound of the auto-scooping litter box. No, seriously, it’s totally ok to just go ahead and turn off all the lights in addition to all of the creepy isolation. I’ll be fine.

I’m actually typing this entry in Word while my laptop is on battery power so I can post it later. I’ve taken a Unisom (a whole one instead of my usual half) in the hopes of knocking myself unconscious for the night. And since I don’t have a baseball bat, and we don’t believe in having guns in the house, I’ve put a frying pan on Dave’s side of the bed, because it was the only blunt, heavy weapon-like item that I could think of. Well, there is the garden shovel, but the shovel is dirty so I don’t want it in bed with me. At least the frying pan is clean. And that sucker is pretty solid, I think it could do some damage if a serial killer were to sneak into the house and try to murder me in my sleep. (Because you know that type of thing happens all the time.)

The wind outside is making creepy whooshing noises like something out of a bad horror movie. One of the candles I had going in our room just flickered out. And I’m starting to seriously reconsider this whole anti-gun stance of mine.

Edited to add: I changed the time stamp on this post to show when I actually wrote it. Another update will be coming soon.

2 Comments »

I had my 32-week OB appointment this afternoon, also known as Round 2 of this game I’m playing called “Let’s See How Much I Can Freak Out My OB With My Bizarre Gastro-Intestinal System.”

The good news is that my stomach is gradually starting to get better. The drugs definitely seem to be helping in that regard, and I’m starting to get a shred of energy back, which I think is probably the best sign of all. I don’t quite feel up to my old workout regimen yet, but I managed to get myself out of bed, dressed, to the doctor’s office and back without feeling like I was going to collapse – and I even stopped for gas on the way home! And I didn’t fall over! So that’s optimistic. 

However, I’ve also lost four more pounds in the past two weeks. This means that I now weigh the exact same amount that I weighed at my very first 8-week pregnancy checkup. I’d be lying if I said that a tiny part of me wasn’t a little bit happy about this news, because at this rate, I’m going to have virtually no pregnancy weight to lose. But the part of me that’s excited about it is the same part of me that finds fashion magazines interesting, so really, we should just ignore her because she’s a very shallow, superficial girl. 

My OB said that she’d ideally like to see me gain ten pounds in the next 8 weeks, but she admitted that it’s probably going to be impossible at the rate that I’ve been going. I haven’t done the “1-2 pounds per week” weight gain yet, so there’s no reason to think I’m going to start anytime soon. Although I wasn’t anywhere close to being underweight when I got pregnant, the doctor is a bit concerned that if I give birth and end up weighing far less than my starting weight, I might be too weak to take care of the baby. So that’s no good. I’ve been drinking protein shakes and taking vitamins all along (because that’s just what we post-op gastric bypass folks do), but I’m going to start drinking more shakes (i.e., three a day instead of my usual two) and increasing my vitamin intake, just to be safe.

(And again, that tiny superficial part of me is happy to note that this is the first time in my entire life that a medical professional has ever encouraged me to gain weight rather than lose it. Silly, I know.)

My doctor also measured my belly and said that it’s totally in the normal ranges, so we have no reason to think that Baby Girl is suffering at all during this. However, just to be safe, she wants to do another ultrasound to make sure the baby’s growth is all progressing smoothly and according to schedule. I guess the idea is that if there’s a problem, it’d be easier to fix while she’s still in the womb, rather than after she’s born.

So I’ll be having another ultrasound next Wednesday (the 20th). I imagine that it’ll be kind of weird, since she’ll probably look a lot more like an actual baby now than she did back in September. If there are pictures to post, you know I will.

As for the childbirth class: it was a long day, and I slept horribly the night before, which made it that much worse. But the class itself was fine, I suppose. I’m always irritated by the judgmental undertones toward epidurals and other forms of pain medication, but I think that’s just part of living in the Northwest with all the hippies. The instructors did a pretty good job of staying neutral on the topic – one of the teachers had four kids, only one of them born without drugs. The anti-medication vibe was from the other women in the room. There’s such a huge trend here in favor of natural childbirth – or as they now call it, “unmedicated” birth. Whatever.

And yes, of course I’m well aware of the risks that come with an epidural. But I also don’t understand women who seem to need to prove something to themselves by enduring the highest degree of pain that a human being can possibly experience. I’m secure enough with myself to know that whether or not I use pain medication during childbirth is no reflection whatsoever on what type of mother I’ll be. Besides, it isn’t like the baby is really going to care one way or the other.

As for the birth video, which is when I thought I’d be splashing cold water on Dave’s face and slapping him back into consciousness, he watched the whole thing with rapt interest and afterward said, “that was pretty cool.” Shocked the hell out of me. (His reaction, that is, not the video.) Who knows, maybe he’ll be of some use when I go into labor after all.

7 Comments »

I guess it says something about my state of mind lately, that my blog was down all day yesterday and most of today, and I’m just now getting around to doing something about it. Yesterday marked the three-week anniversary of this stomach bug, and I think at this point it’s officially drained my will to live. I’m sleeping over ten hours a night, and still, I can barely move and function. A task as small as going to the supermarket drains me of what little strength I have. There’s just nothing left in me.

So: it’s not a parasite. (Sorry, Angie, you don’t get to name it.) After a week of tests, a consultation with a gastroenterologist who didn’t know a blasted thing about treating pregnant women, and a cross-reference of everything the GI doc said with my obstetrician, I now (drum roll)… have a prescription. Two prescriptions, actually. It’s a small step, but at least I feel like there’s some hope, and I might not wither away to nothing before this baby arrives and figures out entirely new ways to destroy what’s left of my body.

What kills me is that even after all of this, no one knows for sure exactly what’s wrong with me, just “hmmm, seems like it’s bacterial.” Nice.  

Tomorrow, Dave and I have our first (and only) childbirth class. I’m getting increasingly jittery about it, because for the past couple of months I’ve managed to pretty well convince myself that I’m just going to be pregnant forever. The idea that this class is going to force me to acknowledge that there’s only one ultimate end to this whole pregnancy thing… well, quite honestly, it scares the bejeezus out of me. Denial has been working ok for me so far, I’m not sure I’m ready to think about the alternative.

I know Dave is dreading the class too, mostly for the much-feared childbirth video, but I’m honestly glad that husbands/partners are required to attend, because I think I’m going to need someone to hold my hand, pat me on the head and tell me that everything is going to be ok.

Wish us both luck.

2 Comments »

This may be the first time I have ever posted a recipe on my blog, so to compensate for the Domestic Goddess Overdose-ness of it all, here’s the background story…

I’m pretty good at making entrees, but I’m not very adept with desserts. I’ve tried to make my grandmother’s buttermilk fudge recipe on numerous occasions, and I have about a 30% success rate with it; most of the time, it turns out like caramel. Still yummy, but not what I was going for. And a few weeks ago, I tried to make homemade cookies for my neighbor - the one who checked on our cats when Dave and I were flooded out of our town - and they were a disaster. I was trying to make sugar cookies, and even though I followed the recipe directions exactly, they ended up tasting like hard, flat breakfast biscuits. (Note to you Brits: biscuits are not the same thing as cookies in this country. They’re more like dinner rolls.) I ended up making her slice-and-bake cookies and then smearing them with homemade frosting so she wouldn’t know the difference. As it turns out, frosting is pretty easy to make.

Point being, this whole Holiday Baking Day with the girls had me a little anxious, since I was pretty well convinced that I suck at making desserts. I asked my friend Janet for ideas, and she directed me to Martha Stewart’s recipe site. Riiiight. Because that’s attainable. Well, it is attainable if you’re Janet; everything she makes looks like it should be photographed for a magazine. The girl has seriously got the Mad Cooking Skillz. But Martha Stewart’s name alone scares the bejeezus out of me, so I was too intimidated to try anything there.

So, I asked my mom. She suggested my great-grandmother’s recipe for praline cookies, but she warned me that they aren’t always a hit. Apparently my dad doesn’t like them because he says they aren’t sweet enough. I thought that might be perfect, since Dave doesn’t like regular pralines because he says they’re too sweet. It’s not his fault, he didn’t grow up in this country, so he hasn’t adapted to our super-sugary, make-your-teeth-hurt desserts.

(Random exception: a couple of months ago, I had a pregnancy craving and came home with a box of Twinkies. Dave had never tried them before, so he had one and decided that they were awesome. It made me laugh because who on earth decides at 35 that they like Twinkies? But between the two of us, we wolfed down quite a few before we decided that we were sick of them.)  

Anyway, since most of the people involved in the Holiday Baking Day thing weren’t from the south, and probably had no idea what a praline was to begin with, and therefore would have no basis for comparison or judgment, I decided to attempt the praline cookies. And that, folks, is the very long story of how this recipe came about.

Praline Cookies
(courtesy of my great-grandmother, who in our family is referred to as Ma Mere, because we’re just crazy French-Spanish-Creole south Louisiana folk like that)

* 1/2 cup butter (1 stick)      
* 1 1/2 cups dark brown sugar
* 1 egg
* 1 1/2 cups flour
* pinch of salt
* 1 teaspoon vanilla
* 1 cup pecan halves

Let butter sit out at room temperature until soft. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
 
In a bowl, mix softened butter and sugar, and beat with electric beater until smooth.

Add egg and mix well. Then add flour, salt and vanilla. Mix again.

Add pecan pieces (then stir, don’t use electric mixer). When well mixed, shape into balls about the size of a pecan, place on a buttered cookie sheet and flatten to about 1/4″ thick.

Bake 12 minutes or until golden brown. Makes 3 dozen.

2 Comments »

I’ve been so incredibly lazy about blogging lately, mainly because it’s getting increasingly difficult to sit still and string any kind of coherent thought process together. My attention span is virtually non-existent these days. Dave and I have tried to watch a couple of movies together in the past week or so, and I find myself getting fidgety and bored long before the two-hour mark rolls around.

(Which, seriously? The Da Vinci Code? Was ok, but waaaaay longer than necessary. Of course, I think I’m the last person in the English-speaking world who hasn’t read the book yet, which is probably the only reason I found the movie somewhat interesting to begin with.)

So, here are some random odds and ends, which should probably each be their own blog posts, but I can’t make my brain develop them any further than this:

* My last day at work was Wednesday. It was weird, because I didn’t hate my job at all, so I wasn’t excited about leaving like I thought I might be. Most of the times that I’ve quit jobs in the past, I’ve left feeling very “woo-hoo, I’m outta here!” And I was always moving on to something better. It’s strange this time, to leave a job and not know when I’ll be looking for another one. I know that Dave and I decided a long time ago to just roll with it and see how things go after the baby arrives, but I’m usually a bit of a planner, so this is all feeling quite foreign to me.

* The problems that I’ve been having with my stomach haven’t let up yet. (It’s been over two weeks now, lucky me.) I saw my primary care doctor on Thursday, and hopefully I’ll hear the results from those tests tomorrow. She said her initial guess is that I either have some kind of bacterial infection or a parasite. Charming.

* Yesterday a group of women that I’m friends with got together and had a little Holiday Baking Day. Basically, everyone made two or three things, and then we all traded off, so everyone got lots of Christmas goodies to take home. Most of the things that I got (peppermint bark?) are the types of treats that I would never think of trying to make myself, so it was pretty cool. It was also nice to get to a chance to hang out with the girls, since there were a few people there who I only see every once in a great while.

Oh, and if any of you want my great-grandmother’s recipe for praline cookies, let me know, because they’re really easy and quite yummy. (Aside to Alphagal: according to my mom, it was Ma Mere’s recipe. I’m guessing Nahnee must’ve made them too, though, because I had the weirdest childhood nostalgia flashback moment when I first tried them.)

* This same group of women has also organized a book club, which I’m trying to participate in. Our first meeting is next Saturday, so between now and then, I’m supposed to read “The Alchemist.” Which is another book that it seems like everyone in the world has read except me. I found Dave’s copy, but with my non-existent attention span, so far I’ve only made it as far as the preface. Luckily it’s a short book, so hopefully I can hammer through the next 175 pages sometime in the next week. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up with the book club after the baby arrives, but I like the idea of it, so I’m going to give it a try. 

5 Comments »