Ninapintasantamaria's Blog

{October 31, 2009}   Nina’s Thotful Spot

That’s what I should have named this blog. Anyway. I gotta get together a go-bag for the hospital stay. Clothes for me, clothes for the Jumping Bean, Diapers, wipes (for the trip home, in case we have to stop anywhere), toiletries in miniature(?), hairbrush, blow dryer (I’m not buying a new one, will just have to try to remember on the way, otherwise will be using the drip-dry method), house shoes (I never wear them at home, but seriously? You don’t want to walk around a hospital in bare feet or even just socks. And you look really stupid wearing your tennies with your bathrobe.) pj’s, and I don’t even know what all else. Pads! Will be needing those, no? And don’t I need to pack the boppy and diaper bag? Hand sanitizer for when the family comes to call? I’m never going anywhere again that it won’t look like I’m moving.

In other news, the house is swept, mopped, dusted, guest bathroom cleaned (courtesy of the roommate), I just need to vacuum, and get the rest of the clothes put away and hung up. I feel soooo much better with a clean house. This is going to cause a problem postpartum, isn’t it. Hmmm. Mom and Aunt are coming for a week (combined, not consecutive, although that doesn’t sound half bad now you mention it) so hopefully it won’t be too bad for a little bit. Oh sleep, wherefore art thou? Maybe I’m practicing for later, ya think?

{October 31, 2009}   All dressed up…

and nowhere to go. I’m blogging away heartburn again. I hope I’m not one of those who has to have my gallbladder out. Ugh. It’s not like I don’t know any good surgeons, but ugh. Woke up cramping and immediately my brain goes into overdrive. “OMG. What if…. Wait, how long was that? Could it just be gas?” Yeah. I’m neurotic. I even felt him kick while this was going on. Now. I know he wouldn’t be kicking and rolling around like a cat in a bag if he was in some sort of distress. He was just ‘smushed’. And now that we’ve ‘evacuated’, the heartburn’s almost gone. Course, I’m not sure if this was from that or the zan.tac I took. I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just want sleep.

Update: HB went away, I was able to return to the woodpile, and slept in till 10amish. Now, I have to clean up after the boys who seem tho think that clean smells like grease, trash, and cars. *sigh* Someone once told me that there’s “A Man’s Idea of Clean”, “A Woman’s Idea of Clean”, and “Sterile”. He said there’s not much difference in the last two. I’m beginning to agree with him. This was a doctor I worked with long ago. He was a pretty smart guy. I just wish I had some help. Shall have to commandeer the roommate and threaten his lodgings.

et cetera