C'mon Barbie, let's go party.

That bloody Barbie song played on the radio a few days ago and I've had it in my head ever since and now so do you! Why should I suffer alone? Share my pain.

Here's who else is annoyed: squirrels. At least the squirrels around here for the past few weeks. They've been making that HWEEEEEK HWEEEEEEK HWAAAAAUUCK sound they make when they are angry. I heard one doing it in the big tree in front of our house for a good 20 minutes. I finally went out to look and it was staring right at me, like it was waiting for me. As if it was sitting in the tree all that time calling to me in squirrel language: "Melissa! Get your friggin arse out here. We got us some business to settle. Have you or have you not been stealing my nuts???".

"I have my own damn nuts and I don't need to be stealing no squirrel booty. Chill the frig out!", is what I told him.

My parents were here, working their buttocks off fixing stuff around our place that we suck too much at fixing ourselves. We now have shelves in our shed, a kick-ass new extended and non-rotting, can step on it without falling through porch, a washer that doesn't threaten to leap to freedom across the room and out the window every time it goes through the spin cycle and a kitchen tap that doesn't leak.

Must remember to never ever by a "fixer-upper" house since we are both quite unmotivated to tackle these sorts of things. Must also remember to win a lottery to ever be able to buy any kind of house to begin with, fixer-upper or no.

About 20 minutes after my parents left for home, another province away, a pipe broke below our house and flooded the bathroom and under our house. I don't want to re-live the whole thing. Let's just say a few key phrases to sum up:
inches of water in bathroom, no one else home, 6 months pregnant hunched over in crawlspace full of dirt and spiders and buckets full of water leaking trying to turn off main valve, didn't work, flooded for an hour before anyone could get here, soaked, stressed, freaking out, plumber comes, leaves door open, can't find cat, soaked stressed, still sore from hunching and carrying buckets on top of frantically running around looking for cat, cat inside the whole time, pregnant lady at end of her rope!

We ended up having to go to an emergency trip to midwife, and take a cab there since it was last second. It's in another city! About a half hour away. Everything is fine, but let's just say I need to learn real fast about how to relax better.

I've been trying for years and years to learn to be less anxious and prone to being extra tense and worried. I talk about it in therapy constantly! Well, turns out, too much of that during pregnancy can create problems of early labour. If I didn't have a good enough reason before (ie: personal happiness, which should be a good enough, reason, but tell it to my brain), I certainly have a good reason now. I had already talked about the problem with the midwife before the -flood in the house day- happened. I was already in the process of trying very seriously to learn to relax more, when all hell broke loose. Wake-up call. That can't happen again. If the house explodes today, I will just go get some ice cream and read a magazine. It's a turning point. I simply can not go on, subjecting myself and now the safety of an unborn child to the pressure of anxiety, guilt, baggage, flooding bathrooms, injustice in the world etc, etc, etc.

I will have to finally learn how to be happier and that's the end of it. No more debate.

I try not to medicate with food, but last night, at the end of a day of stress, sogginess and no shower and 80 dollar cab rides and blah blah blah, I decided my dinner would be raw vegetables and chips with an entire container of dill flavoured dip. I ate the whole container! And wanted more after. So good. I've never done that before. I would do it again, I tell you.

Allow me to gush for a moment by saying that my husband has been incredibly unwavering in his ability to support me emotionally and physically with his inexhaustible energy to help, ever since, well since the day I met him really. I can't imagine how much more difficult it would all be without him.

I hope I don't yell too many insults at him during the moments of labour. I'll yell at the midwife instead. Tee hee.

Just in case this whole tale has made you forget:
click here!!!

Don't blame me! Blame the people involved in writing, recording and releasing the bloody song! Oh admit it! You love the song! You watched the whole video!

If you are extra unfortunate. You will remember that they actually had a bunch of songs after that one. All really really terrible. Like, really terrible. At least Barbie Girl is catchy (to say the least). The others are just awful. All with her singing some repetitive insipid hook and the weird bald dude, growling some danish-accented English spoken nonsense: "I am the candy man, coming from bountyland." What?! What does that mean? Does it make sense if you translate it into Danish? Or how about this: Girl sings: Roses are red, violets are blue, honey is sweet, but not as sweet as you,(barf) dum dum de dah de dum (insert ener-g drums)then bald dude's growled part: Come pick my roses. Uh,ok.

Actually, I think that every song on the album has a video. I think it was all masterminded by a Danish ad company (or just a plain old cheese danish? ha ha, I'm so funny). They marketed them with shiny videos and publicity spots just like they were selling insurance or chocolate bars.

Thanks Denmark. Good job. Yes, I blame ALL of Denmark. When you smell a fish, does it not come from there? Don't even get me started on that frigger Shakespeare. Ha ha, no seriously folks, Shakespeare is an OK guy. Can I get a round of applause for old Shakesy?

PS: Skullcap tincture. Amazing for sleeping, relaxation and possibly blog posts that are waaaaay tooooo long.

Tee hee hee. New age-y.

Jeez.

I didn't sleep too well. I've been waking up at 4:30am for weeks and not getting back to sleep till 7am. Last night I woke up at 2:30 and didn't get back to sleep till 7am. That's full-fledged insomnia ain't it? T kept asking why James Dean looked so old in Rebel Without a Cause. Because dude didn't sleep! And now, I see it on my face too. Yeesh.

Sometimes I get up and have a sandwich I'm so hungry. The cat sniffs around me, trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing up so early while I stand at the patio window, eating a sandwich and staring at the crescent moon and Venus. It reminds me of the Cat Stevens greatest hits cover and think that over and over while I look at it. Cat Stevens, Cat Stevens, Cat Stevens. A tired mind does odd things. The same thing happens when sitting down to knit, especially seed stitch: knit one, purl one, knit one, purl one etc. I can't stop thinking it in my head while doing it. Drives me nuts.

After I finally got back to sleep this morning, I half-woke and thought, nuh-uh, I'm not getting up yet. I will sleep till noon if I must. But then BANG BANG BANG BANG on the door. I'm always uninspired to answer the phone or the door. We so seldom get calls or people showing up that if the phone rings or the door knocks, it's nothing or no one good or interesting. Just telemarketers or Jehovah Witnesses. I figured, screw it, whoever it is can come back later if they need to. However, they loudly persisted so I lept up and realized it was the chimney sweep we had called, looking for his money before performing the job. No chim-chim cheroo from this fellow.

What a sight I must have been. Sleep lines on my face, eye mask hastily pushed up on my forehead, barely focused eyes and a gravely voice trying to articulate loudly in french (as he had given up and started up the hill to leave): Oui oui oui! Je suis ici! Le cheque, le cheque! Je vais le faire maintenant! He must have thought I was such a burn-out, although it was only 8:50 am fer crab's sake.

Now it's 10am and I'm ready to go back to bed. Totally done for.

Yesterday, we had our midwife appointment. It's the third midwife I've been through now. I asked to change the first one, because she spoke no english at all. The second one was great, but then took sick leave and so did her back up. Now I have this third one. Oh well, she seemed nice enough, although I'm sure she can't be more than 20 something. A veteran who'd seen 10 trillion births might be more assuring, but then again, sometimes new blood can have a more fresh approach. Who knows, it's random luck I suppose. Still a million times better than a doctor.

She did this thing while I was lying down where she helped me visualize moving the baby upward, toward my ribs and away from the bottom of the pelvis. It was a little spacey tinkly the way she told me to do it. Instead of just saying, close your eyes and try to relax your uterus and envision the baby moving upward, it was like: call your baby upward, call to him (chimes chimes, tinkly tinkle. ok, there was not actual chimes but there could easily have been)...It was hard to concentrate on doing it because I was concentrating so hard on not laughing, but it worked. T saw it move upward. My uterus went from all hard and tight to being soft and open. Dang it all if relaxation ain't the thing for most things.

I really do believe in the method of midwives; The way they treat pregnancy and birth as super natural and normal and they empower you to have control over your body and how you feel, (doctors just tell you what to do and act like it's an illness you must endure for 9 months). I totally believe in body awareness and breathing and yoga and all that stuff as super important, it's just the language that gets me laughing sometimes. The new age speak. It makes me chuckle like a teenager in sex-ed class. Might make me seem like I don't respect the message. I do. I just wish it could be delivered more matter of factedly sometimes. Yes, fact-ed-ly.

Anyhoodles.

Onward and upward. Tonight, if I wake up, I will try calling to my brain's sleep center. Come to me sleep. Come to me. And maybe I'll keep some chimes by the bed to seal the deal. Oh, I'm such a poop! I'm really making fun of myself more than new agey stuff. Me and my snickery self. Mmmm, snickers. Actually, I don't care for Snickers. I prefer Mars.

Powdery mildew. Mmmmm.

That's it, kablammy. It's fall. Last week was the last of the hot enough for a t-shirt days. Yesterday was be-a-utiful. Warm yet breezy and sunny with big puffy clouds. Today, overcast and under 20 and the rest of the weeks' forecast is under 20. Fall is irrevocably arrived.

With the end of summer, comes the end of my pumpkin patch also. The leaves have fallen victim to powdery mildew and must be destroyed. I have 4 pumpkins. They are not fat raccoon sized, more like, fat rabbit sized. However, they will do. I'm ready to change gears and kick into Fall mode. I'm thinking about scarves, stew and apple pie. To be honest, I've gone one step further and even thought about Christmas. Sorry, but I have. I've been using a tiny little fake tree the past few years. Mostly because of lack of space and the fact that no presents go under it as we always go to KW for Christmas. This year though, I will be 2 weeks from giving birth and ain't goin nowhere no how so I'm getting a real big spruce and I will make room for it. Oh yes indeed. I am a fan of the Christmas tree. But I leap much to far ahead with this train of thought.

I've been counting off weeks, mostly to remember when my 2nd trimester pilates work-out should change to my 3rd trimester and it's all been so abstract: 22 weeks, 24 weeks...Last night I converted it to months and thought: Holy poop, I'm nearly 6 months! Dig that, would you?

I guess another part of fall for me will be kicking out the knitting needles. Sitting around knitting for 3 hours doesn't seem right in the summer or spring, but somehow, in the fall, feels right. I should knit myself a winter coat since none of my coats are going to come anywhere near to getting all the way around my circumference...Maybe I could just by a reaaaallly long piece of wool and wrap myself up like a mummy in it when I need to go out. Could start a new trend.

Today, I feel like I should mark the seasonal crossover somehow. Perhaps I'll start by pulling out the pumpkin patch and end with a hot chocolate and figure out all the rest, in between, as I go along.

So long summer, smell ya later.

Boo to onions. Rah to Blenders. Sisk Boom Bah to all the rest.

Once again, Fall is on it's way. For some reason, I'm always dubious that summer or winter will pass when I'm in the middle of them. Despite constant proof to the contrary, I still sort of believe that they will just stick around and torture me forever. See, I'm an Autumn lady who happens to also dig Spring. These are the two touchiest and most fickle of seasons. Sometimes, they seem to only last a couple of weeks before the ball hogs of summer and winter tackle them to the ground and steamroll them.

Speaking of tackling. I was driving past a group of old people. They were in a bocce playing field, sitting on benches lining either side of the pitch (is what I'm guessing the bocce play field is called). As is my wont, I chose to imagine what else they could be assembling for. Of course orgy was my first thought. Then, British Bulldog came to mind, which is actually way more funny to imagine than orgy. You know British Bulldog right? The really sensible game where groups of kids line up on either side of a field and then yell "British Bulldog!" and charge at each other and tackle each other. That's some good sportin'. I loved that game.

So, back in the now, it's 8pm and pitch black already so Fall is, in fact, coming. Summer will give up the ghost even though I'm sure it would stick around, annoying me with it's heat and sun all year if it could. Summer is so bloody full of itself.

The wasps are dozy, the geese will be heading for the hills( I don't mean Hollywood), all my plants are dead, but that's mainly because I didn't water them enough the past 2 weeks...Anyway, the signs are all there. So kiss my ass summer. You go ahead and have your last few days of heaty heatness. You are so outta here.

Sigh. The arrival of Autumn is always so bittersweet though. I love the weather, but as the days grow shorter, depression does tend to sit in. Now, with me already feeling like a huffing, puffing, beached whale at only 5 months pregnant, how will Autumn feel this year? Will the fact that I won't be pushing money around electronically at a bank help? Let's hope so. Maybe I'll haul my widening ass out for Fall walks and get some of that precious daylight to help with my mood this year. We shall see, we shall see.

Oh, by the way, know what's not fun? Iron supplements. They suck so bad. I got the easiest (and most friggin' expensive) kind to digest in liquid form, but it still kills the stomach and makes you feel pukey. Well it's practically drinking liquid rust with a bit of prune juice for flavouring. Mmm-mmm. Tasteee. I tried to go without it for a while and just eat lots of spinach and pumpkin seeds etc. However, after a while, I ended up feeling like merely blinking my eyelids was too much effort for me to bear and developed panda eye dark circles that make me look like the undead. So back to the cursed Iron juice. Shudder. I absolutely hate it. Tough shit though. I need to take it and that's that.

As a balance, something that is fun is making your own delicious cocoa flavoured granola with almonds and dates and eating it with chocolate soy milk. Yes indeed.

Have I mentioned how in love I am with my new blender? I'm in love with it. Oh the smoothies and slushies we will make together, that blender and I. The other day I made a crushed ice, lime, ginger and honey slushy and I felt pretty smug about it. Pretty damn smug about being clever enough to purchase a machine that would easily facilitate such tasty drinks. Every morning I have a banana, strawberry, vanilla soymilk smoothy with some tahini for protein and dates for fun. It tastes so good, ladies and gentlemens. I recommend thee, oh blender, to all the people of all the lands.

Yes well, I have tired of this finger moving. The iron has yet to accumulate sufficiently in me so I heave and huff and only use one eye at a time because it's too tiring to keep both open at the same time don't you know.

Fun fact: I now abhor the smell of cut onions. I used to love it. Now it smells like rot and decay of the most foul sort. Boo to onions, boo.

Good night and thank-yee.

Yaaawwwn.

Well well well.

So we are having a boy, you probably know already. I have begun feeling him kick or punch or whatever they get up to. The first time I felt it I had images from Alien flash before my eyes. It was freaky! I worried momentarily that I would spend the next 4 months being creeped out. However, like all the feelings that go along with pregnancy, you become accustomed to them rapidly. We'd all be completely insane if it didn't happen that way since it is a strange experience, no denying it.

For once I'm actually appreciating the mental effects my hormones are having on me. They are soothing for the most part as opposed to the evil mix of menstrual hormones, the mix that nearly gets me into fist fights and induces bad self-made haircuts. The pregnancy mix convinces you somehow that things are groovy so long as nothing is threatening your physical safety. There is the whole 'weepy weirdo' aspect though. While waiting for T to finish boiling his perogies so we could sit down and watch Rebel Without a Cause, I watched the trailer to see how they sold it in 1955. I ended up being a weepy during it. Those poor misguided kids...

We had a visit to the K-dub a few weeks ago. Had a very nice baby shower in which people were thoughtful and generous with their gifts.



We had to buy a new dresser to store it all. Somehow, we have to convert this place into a two-bedroom by next spring which has involved chaos inducing furniture moving and boxing and throwing out of anything even slightly not useful. The staggering quantities of junk that can accumulate insidiously in a house. Entropy does rule. Damn entropy.

I am boring myself writing this. It's hard not being up your own hole. Very nearly impossible actually. I was less happy at my stupid bank job, but the blogging was more interesting because I tried to focus on what was happening around me more, to save thinking about my own misery. Now I just walk around all day thinking about me me me, my life, me me me. Well, you know, sometimes, it's warranted. This is what I've decided anyway.

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