Mama Is A Big, Not So Fat Nerd

Buffering: 10% Please wait.......

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 03:04:02 GMT

*Creak*
*Groan*

........

There is a collective gasp from the entire Internet; is this little corner showing some signs of life?

*Wheeze*
*Groan*

Woohoo! And-

*Thump* ZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....................

We are awake from the coma. Now we need a nap, and some TLC. Never fear, we're coming back.

*Groan*

Admittedly, this may take baby steps.

Random Update

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 23:48:23 GMT

Nicholas is asleep and I am bored, so I will babble here for a few moments.

First of all, I really need to update my profile... apparently I'm still living in Wahiawa, which is not quite the case anymore. I probably ought to do it now, but I have the lazy thing going on... ah, what am I doing, it only takes a minute.

Nicholas has started saying a lot more words- "uh-oh" is back, and for some reason he started repeating the word "double" with me today. I have no idea where he got the word from, he just started saying it.

My latest project was going to be a lace shawl, but I had to pull it apart twice and got frustrated so I think I'll stick to knitting my sock for a day or two and then try again. Or maybe I shouls read a good book instead- if I throw it across the room, it won't impale anyone...

For some reason, that reminds me of my mother- I spoke to her today, but forgot to ask her about her livejournal account craziness. Hmmm...

Okay, that's all the rambling for the moment- signing out for now. :)

Connectivity is a Happy Thing

Thu, 29 May 2008 03:28:26 GMT

Yay, I have an email account again. One that's not flooded with a bunch of crap, and one that I can actually access. Hence why I'm back on the Internet, even though it's been a while. Also, I have been focusing really intently on finishing a cardigan for Nicholas, for no other reason than to prove I can knock out a baby sweater like it's nothing now. This will encourage me in knitting Gary's tent of a sweater. For those who are unaware, Gary is six-foot-five and 300 pounds plus, with shoulders and chest to match. Because of this, I hope to have the sweater done by the end of the year.

... Wow, I can't wait until the Greenbriar job kicks in. I am getting way too involved in my hobbies. At least knitting is now socially acceptable; but what if I start to go this batty about, say, my writing? If I walk around pretending to shoot blue lightning out of my fingertips, I think my therapist would have a word with me.

On a wildly different note- Mom, I am both amused and confused by whatever you did here. I can't puzzle out head nor tails of it; maybe Penny can. It almost would have been amusing if you had kept going, to see how many usernames you could have come up with... :)

(You are probably going to call me a "twit" for that!)

Okay, this is all for the moment, since Nicholas' fever is mostly gone and griping about the pollen won't do anything about it. Much love to you all :)

"LAUGHING INSANELY"

Fri, 09 May 2008 20:44:31 GMT

I GOT THE JOB AT GREENBRIAR!!!!

I can now be considered amongst the employed. What a relief! After so long of staying at home, I am approaching this as a really awesome hobby. Staying at home was making me crazy- the only good thing about it, besides having time to think I suppose, is the time I get to spend with Nicholas... but I've noticed that when I'm working, the time off is much better spent. Bringing him to the park becomes an outing, not a chore, that way.

Okay, just a brief little post to let everyone know- I GOT A JOB HAHAHAHAHA....

Crazy Needles

Thu, 08 May 2008 23:43:58 GMT

I did not mention in my last post that I have become obsessed with knitting. I've enjoyed it since I was seven, but lately I've been finding it really soothing. I'll have to post pictures of stuff that I make, to show it off ... and World-Wide Knit in Public Day is June 14th, so anyone else who can knit, represent :p

I got a call back from Greenbriar Terrace- I have an interview tomorrow!!! Soon, I will hopefully be amongst the employed...

Right after the post with my big discussion on mental health, it turns out that it is Mental Health Awareness Month. Huh.

A big shout-out to Laura and Julie, who I have not yet managed to run into since returning to New England. That's okay, Gary and I will keep trying... the urge to show off Nicholas is too strong. :)

Okay, just a brief update for now- I shall return soon, my sweets. "Cackles evilly"

P.S. New Lost tonight *squee*

I'M BACKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 15:10:01 GMT

... Okay, calm now. Well, it has been over two years, but I'm finally here again and it is a relief. It feels good to have someone out there to talk to- even if no one is listening, then I can pretend they are, and that's good enough for right now.

Well, there are several things that need to be updated when it comes to my life. First of all, I was discharged from the Army in April of 2007 (honorably, thank you very much) for the whole mental health thing. It seems that my brain didn't quite wrap around the idea of the military as well as I thought that it would. Actually, I've been diagnosed with bipolar disorder; when they told me that, it was like the lightbulb clicked on in my head and a little voice went "aha!" I've been "mood-swingy" all my life, and can get quite nasty when I'm down, but now I've got medication and therapy and am not doing too bad. I'm pretty happy about that... besides, it has felt good to be a civillian. I've been out of the Army over a year now, and it didn't take long to break the weird habits like trying to put on a nonexistent hat when I go outside. It is very nice to be able to stand and speak and think when I want to.

Nicholas is huge now, and a very happy toddler. He doesn't speak too much yet, but it is very cute when he does- he'll say "bye-bye" before going down the slide at the playground, things like that. Right now he's watching "Sesame Street" very intently.... and that reminds me. After I was discharged, we spent about six months in Denver with my family, but we are now back in New Hampshire. We're living in Nashua with Gary's grandfather, an elderly Brit-turned-American who collects clocks. He's pretty cool but we're sort of desperate to be living independently, so Gary has a job at Target and I'm looking for one now. Hannaford's is supposed to call back today, and I'm kind of going stir-crazy waiting for the phone to ring, so all that emotion welled up and led to this. And here I am. It really does feel good to be back.

Cool!

Sun, 26 Mar 2006 01:34:39 GMT

I feel sorta famous... :D Thanks, Penny! :)

(Longer update to follow...)

Hmmm... New Format....

Sat, 18 Mar 2006 03:09:41 GMT

This is just a short little entry because I'm thinking about poking around for a userpic too... Gary has stated that he thinks it is high time that the little monkey was updated, and I do love my little simian baby but I also suppose that he's got a point. I do, however, think that I will take a moment and put out the question of this new format. I'm not sure if I like it more or less than the new one; I suppose it's like the new uniform I got today, I'll have to break it in and see if it's worth wearing or not. The nice thing about Livejournal, though, is that I can go back to the old format if I don't like the new, whereas it's for better or for worse with the new ACUs. We shall see... I've already decided that if I do keep this one, however, I'll need bolder colors for this page to better suit it. This is also a significant change because a) I'd like the color scheme to match any new userpic I use (though I will of course allow my baby monkey to pop up, perhaps for baby-related stuff :) and b) when I get the new computer I'd also like to get a domain name and finally set up the site I've wanted for so long, and I'd love for the scheme of my website and my blog to match. In the end, I may just go with one of the more exotic layouts, because some of them are pretty cool...

Speaking of treating oneself (new userpics, one's own domain name, et cetera).... I got new kitchen knives! Anyone who doesn't cook much will think I'm a dork for being all excited about this, but I love to cook- and these aren't just any knives, these are the ones that TV cook Rachael Ray uses, and my mother and I have both spent quite some time drooling at those things. She could probably cut her counter with them if she fancied, for Pete's sake. Any way, they weren't too badly priced either, and I was just about wincing when I clicked "Add To Cart", expecting a horrible figure, so I later saw a nice cast-iron skillet on the site and was like "what the hey" because the price for it was very good, so I got that too, so I am now generally elated all around. As long as Nicholas stays away from them. *Slightly scared, but still quite thrilled*

Okay, I have now had my little gloat over my knives (^_^) ; thank you for bearing with me, oh people who think that I'm weird. Someday I'll crave something normal, like an X-Box, I suppose- it just seems to me that the minute all the good games for one system come out, here comes a new better system, so it's like "damn". I never have time for a video game anyway, between a newborn and (in a week when I come of maternity leave) the Army, so I'll probably just wait until Nicholas is old enough to beg for his own system, get it for him if it's a good value and he's been a good boy. Then he can kick my ass playing it, and maybe it'll be good for his self-esteen or something. We'll see.

Okay, I'm off to find my new userpic, and maybe to change a smelly diaper too in a minute. Gaaaaaa!........... Signing off :)

Wanderlust, Cheese, and Hodgepodge: A Study

Sat, 11 Mar 2006 00:55:21 GMT

I was updating my user info and it occured to me that quite a lot of people have "cheese" listed as an interest. It makes sense, I suppose- I like cheese, so I put it down, what the hey- but it just sounds funny that way. "I am interested in cheese." It makes me think vaguely of dirty jokes, a few of which involve the French word, "fromage" or "fromange" or however it is spelled. I took Spanish, thank you very much! Porque es la idioma mucha mas sensible- or something like that. Spanish speakers please don't laugh! Siempre yo hablaban espanol como una gringa, si... but hey, even white girl Spanish was quite helpful in San Diego, my native land (sort of- I'll get into that in a moment), so there you go.

It was funny looking at my user info- that first line, "I'm a Navy brat that rebelled and joined the Army..." I am technically a San Diego native, but now that almost all my family have moved from it, there is almost no reason to go visit it again. Kind of sad, in a way. The wanderlust has kicked into the family again. My brother's family is still there, so there's that, but they've sort of turned into desert hermits. Who knows when the next time the whole family will see each other again? It doesn't help that we're an aggressive lot, and don't seem to be getting along with half the family as well as when we're arguing with the other half. (Is it the German blood on Mom's side, the Irish/Italian/everything else on Earth blood on Dad's side, the precarious combination of all those genes, or something else entirely? Aaagh...) It couldn't help that attention deficit hyperactive disorder seems to run on both sides of the family. It runs on Gary's side, too; this might make raising Nicholas very, very interesting.

Speaking of Nicholas, he has grown a ton. He's wearing one of his "8-11 pound" outfits, and he fits in it pretty neatly. He used to swim in the size. Thankfully, his current size of diapers goes up to fourteen pounds, so there's some continuity there at least. I've been a mother for all of a month, and I already feel like he's growing up right before my eyes! (Actually, right now he's sleeping before my eyes... what a cutie :)

Speaking of mothers, is delenntoo the only dang "family" person that's ever on anymore? (Speaking of whom- "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii..." :) My entire family has vanished. Probably the minute I put this up, though, I'll get these cheerful little comments about "Hi, we've got the Internet now!" and have to eat my words. Oh, well- and hello to Laura and Julie, who have been praising Nicholas' supreme adorable-ness. Thanks! :) (Gary and I are hardly models, so heaven knows where he got it from!)

Now that I can fit into my regular pants again (though I do have to hold my breath to maneuver the zipper- soon, though, soon!), I've started looking toward the new Army uniform they've put out. On the one hand, I personally think the BDUs look spiffier (BDUs are the green and brown camouflage uniforms that we all know and love- half the civilians I run into on this island are wearing them too, it seems). On the other hand, the new uniform, the ACU, looks like it might be a little more flattering to the female figure (it's got a bit of a nipped-in waist, and more strategically-placed pockets), is supposed to be easier to wear with equipment (again, well-placed pockets), and is supposed to be really comfy, pajama-style. When payday comes, I suppose I can go ahead and get a pair or two- I'm in no particular rush, we're not required to have them for a few more months yet, but I'm eager to compare and contrast the old and the new. We shall see. The main issue I have with the ACU is that it looks sort of blue to me- is the Army planning to fight in periwinkle terrain anytime soon, or what? Everyone always did say the Smurfs were commies... ;-)

Gary just put up some new pictures- freakin' posters, really- of Nicholas. I could show him how to adjust the dimensions of the pictures, but he finds them amusing this way. Between sleep deprivation and "Doctor Who" coming next week, he has been a little loopy...I think it might not help that he has been fed a steady diet of lots of the same songs at his workplace, especially since a lot of them are songs that I enjoy so I can torture him at home with them too, if he is evil- all I have to do is start humming Los Lonely Boys' "Heaven", and he runs screaming from the room. Good song, hehehehehehehehe... I feel so evil :D The boy needs to be educated, anyway- just wait till Dad finds out he didn't know who Carly Simon was! *Diabolical cackle* Anyway, everyone go see the pictures on lord_fenric! The baby is all sorts of cute :)

Okay, this is turning into a book (speaking of which, writing's been on hold but may be resumed soon), and I'm getting stiff in this computer chair. Also, it sounds like somebody's built an alter of filled recycling bins and sacrificed several squirming virgins on top of them in the next room- meesa very, very scared. Okay, much love to everyone, be they present in body, mind, or spirit (or any combination thereof)... signing off :)

I Am Not Dead

Sat, 04 Mar 2006 00:32:30 GMT

... However, I have been away from a computer for a while. That is okay, since a) nobody else seems to be anywhere near one at the moment and b) there is a computer for our unholy usage coming in the mail.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4...."Sometimes these misunderstandings aren't really Greenspan's fault." From "Dave Barry's Money Secrets"
2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can! Executed
3. What is the last thing you watched on TV? Monty Python
4. Without looking, guess what time it is? 2:30
5. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time? Only 2:00! I stink :p
6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? People typing, babies whimpering, and the library's ac system.
7. When did you last step outside: Heading from the Px to the library just now...
8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at? Friends page on Livejournal
9. What are you wearing? A white knit shirt and tan shorts
10. Did you dream last night? yes, and it was trippy
11. When did you last laugh? A moment ago, reading a rather weird forum
12. What is on the walls of the room you are in? White paint and a bunch of Army/reading/Earth Day posters
13. Seen anything weird lately? Baby poop
14. What do you think of this quiz? Bizarre
15. What is the last film you saw? Austin Powers (the first one)
16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy? A car, a boat, and a house with a really fantastic kitchen
17. Tell me something that I don't know: I'm now a closet "Doctor Who" fan, it seems...after years of teasing Gary about it. Dang! :)
18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do? Instead of war, we could have giant international paintball games to settle disputes... winner gets chocolate.
19. Do you like to dance? Yes.
20. George Bush: *shrug* Just the boss- politics make me *shudder*
21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?: mmmm... I like Miranda
22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?: Nicholas Eric, of course! :)
23. Would you ever consider living abroad? Hehehehehe, that's half the reason I joined the Army...
24. What do you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates? You were one of my more interesting projects...
25. 6 people who must also do this in THEIR journal: lord_fenric, keeperslave, delenntoo, branmaster5000, callmepoptart, and iamsargon...carrot6 will get probably get this through Fenric's journal and not mine, so he doesn't count as an illegal seventh person- and he can do this too, he'd probably have some amusing responses.

Okay- as the fellow who runs mycathatesyou.com would say, "that is all." Nicholas is possibly about to go tearing the library apart one brick at a time, so I leave you all for the moment with a few ~~commands~~ suggestions: Eat carrots, they're good for you. Go see the pictures of my baby on lord_fenric and delenntoos' journals. Watch "Doctor Who" on Sci Fi, in "Battlestar Galactica"'s old spot- Gary will be very happy if you do. Bring an umbrella in case it rains. And remember to respect your local mamas and nerds! Signing off :)

BABY-Part Two

Sat, 11 Feb 2006 02:12:41 GMT

Part Two- The Event

This is where it gets interesting. You see, I've never been in the hospital for anything worse than strep throat or a broken ankle. Even then, it was for a matter of hours, and was either because the clinic was closed (the former) or because I needed X-rays (the latter). So, this whole labor and delivery thing was rather new to me. The nurses took me to this place called triage, where I got to lay on an enormous bed and have this fetal monitor strapped to me, (blue for a boy of course), and got to listen to about half an hour to an hour of Nicholas' fast little heartbeat (whompwhompwhompwhompwhomp) and had to deal with every nurse or doctor in the Pacific Rim checking to see just how dilated I really was (GRRRRR) and try and decide if they should send me walking up and down the halls or admit me straight. It didn't help that I didn't "look or act like a woman in labor." Hey, this was the hospital's idea, not mine! In the end they admitted me, and I got to put on this pink flowery thing that of course didn't have a back *blushes and giggles*, and then ended up in this really huge pink bedroom-looking room that had fish on the ceiling tiles and really, really pink walls. I was none too thrilled when they stuck an IV in me, or when I got stuck with nothing but ice chips to eat- making it very clear why OB/GYN had me sneak that salad beforehand. I threw a small fit when I heard they were sticking a catheter in me- oh, the humiliation! The feeling of constantly peeing sucked... And then, because I was only then starting to feel the slightest pressure during contractions, I waited. I watched Food Network, but then the kindly nurse warned me that I would get hungry. I got hungry. I ate ice chips like they were M&Ms. I finally stopped torturing myself and switched to "Home Improvement" reruns.

The doctor came in sometime around that point, and broke my water. (Very odd sensation, I must say!) Before he did this, however, he checked... five centimeters. Around this point, Gary came back from being rushed home by the kindly neighbors to grab our stuff, and we continued to wait. After a few hours, my contractions started to HURT! Everyone who had tried to warn me was right- the pain really is indescribable. It makes "those" cramps feel like tender loving caresses. After quite a long time huffing and puffing through old "Everybody Loves Raymond" episodes, agonized but also kind of curious to see what I could milk out of this "extremely high pain tolerance" I apparently had, I decided that was enough. Hearing I was qualified for an epidural was a very nice thing! It made my right leg numb and puffy, but was also like "aaaaahhhh." They checked me first, of course... five centimeters.

Shortly after, it had been about ten hours since they had broken my water, meaning I'd been in the hospital for twelve and in labor for who knows how long. At this point, another doctor comes in and starts saying what is known in pregnancy circles as the "C-word." Gary, who has prepared himself for this birth by watching lots of Discovery Health Channel, is not happy about the C-word. I'm not exactly gung-ho either. After lots of debate on several fronts, though, the prognosis is pretty blunt: I'm either getting one now, or I'm getting one later when Nicholas has spent too long in the womb without his protective amniotic bubble. Damn. This is me, remember? Me who has spent maybe six hours TOTAL as a hospital inpatient. And this includes time in waiting rooms. Now I'm being prepped for major surgery, the first step of which is to find the wackiest outfit known to mankind and try and squeeze it onto Gary. Nothing fits, of course- doctors just don't usually break the six-foot-three mark, apparently. I and all my happy tubes get gurneyed off to a small white room with a REALLY BIG MIRROR showing all my unmentionable parts for the world to see, plus a REALLY BIG LAMP that was about the only thing I could pinpoint as true to the operating rooms I had seen on TV. I got to wiggle onto this ominous-looking table, but apparently earned merit points from the operating team for being able to wiggle. It got quite odd after that- I was practically swaddled in these warm blanket-like things, and then they put some extremely nice stuff in my epidural and they could have started pulling out spare organs for all I cared. After much prepping and draping, Gary comes wandering in this motley assortment of hospital gowns, scrubs, and this big puffy shower cap and "I've been doing painting" face mask. Freaky. Oldies were stuck in my head at this point, and they had already begun to cut (a strange sensation, sort of an "unzipping") and the monitor with my vital signs happily beeping away (okay, another "ER"-type truth, along with the light) soon grew boring to watch, not to mention overly hypnotic. So I tried to nap, while Gary actually dared to peek over the drape and didn't faint in the process. Good for him! I will NOT regale you all with his description of what he saw. :p

Eventually, the anesthesiologist (hehehe, it'll be interesting to see if I spelled THAT right! He told me to call him Charlie, so I shall) warns me that I'm about to feel "incredible pressure". Gulp. At that point, there really is this insane rolling, pulsating feeling, EXACTLY like something alive and squirming is being pulled out of my belly- which it is. Hearing his wonderful little (angry as hell!) cry, and all the doctors happily declaring "It's a Boy!" and watching Gary work the camera furiously were all an amazing, surreal experience. Gary got to trim the cord, and then hold Nicholas after they cleaned him up and checked him out, and he could bring him over to show me and it was incredible. At that point, though, they got to go off to the mother-baby unit while the doctors sewed me up, and this was not amusing. Charlie was comforting- "Only another twenty minutes"- but I still was not happy, so I tried to nap during the last part of the surgery so it would go fast. Eventually I got a few (not all-grrrr) of the various tubes pulled, and a great happy bandage slapped on my belly, and was lifted onto a bed and taken to a recovery room where Gary was hyper and Nicholas was fast asleep. I was weak and shaking and numb, pissed because this meant that I couldn't have the baby yet, and wanted FOOD, dammit- and still very, very happy at the same time. This whole having-a-baby-thing is still quite a mystery to me!

Okay, that's probably all for today, since we've got to get home- the rest of this strange tale shall be reported on as soon as I can! Signing off :)

BABY!!!!!

Fri, 10 Feb 2006 23:31:10 GMT

Well.... hello out there, everyone. As you may recall, I last updated on the thirty-first, the day before my very routine appointment at Tripler. My nice, boring thirty-nine week appointment.

You're probably all laughing now, since you can all guess why I haven't updated since. ;-) He's here!!!!! :D

I'm sitting here at the computer with little Nicholas Eric, who has a belly full of food and is sound asleep. He was born at 12:21 am on February 2nd, 2006, after a very bizarre labor and a c-section. He was nine pounds, five ounces (!) and twenty and a quarter inches- essentially, a compact little football of a baby. Adorable. He's got my ears and chin but most everything else seems to favor Gary; eyes, hair, and complexion are still up in the air because not only is he a newborn and still revealing his secrets, but Mom and Dad actually are pretty similiar in the hair and skin nowadays. The eyes are a lovely dark gray-blue right now and I would love for them to stay that way: I know that's pretty close to the newborn standard but that's also somewhat close to his Dad's color eyes, so we'll see.

I'm debating whether or not to put the more graphic details under a cut, but I know that Nicholas' various grandparents will want to read it... we shall see. I shall write it first.... having written this first part, it's neither very long nor very graphic, so it can stay out for the world to read and enjoy. When I get to the icky parts with lots of medical terms, however, expect a read-at-your-own-risk cut... ;-)

Part One- The Surprise

(This will be a multipart saga because we need to go feed Nicholas and then we have a WIC appointment- I present Part One for your reading enjoyment now. :)

Anyway- as I have previously stated, I went in for a routine appointment, thirty-nine week checkup, and the nurse asks if I've recently been checked for dilation. I say no, because they hadn't done it at the last checkup, so up she goes (I hate that!) and gets this "ahhhh" look. "At least two... three...." And then the "ahhh" look turns into an "uhhh" look. "...Four....maybe five..." And there's bloody show, too. The mere sight of that alone would have put me into labor if I weren't already in it, as was apparently the case. When did I start? How long had I been going? Why hadn't I felt a thing- I mean, there was discomfort, but I'd found the whole end-of-pregnancy thing very uncomfortable in general and hadn't noticed anything I could reasonably call a contraction. Or at least, a contraction as my unexperienced mind had come to fathom them.

I was told that I must have a very high tolerance to pain. Well, that was good news, I figured. The good folks at Tripler OB/GYN told me to go sneak a lunch in the dining facility, while they had me admitted into labor and delivery. I ate as much of a salad as I could get down in my excitement, fretted with Gary over what he hadn't packed back home yet, and then waddled over to the elevator to the sixth floor. When we got to labor and delivery, I remember walking up to the nurse's station and saying something moronic like "hi, I'm in labor." My brain had already begun to fry...

Return to the Journal

Tue, 31 Jan 2006 01:03:21 GMT

Okay, on second thought, here I am again. I have returned from the training, which was indeed boring in nature but was made entertaining by the ever-present peanut gallery. No Army briefing is complete without snide jokes, subtle innuendo, tales from the front ("Funny you should say that, because in Iraq they did this..."), and of course the ever-popular Q and A session, ranging from the complex ("But wait, if the flux capacitor has not reversed the polarity of the neutron flow within that timeframe, shouldn't we fill out an AR 362675475664754763462 point 1 dash R?") to the mundane ("What's this a class on again?") to the absurd ("Hey, wasn't there a commercial on that? No, seriously, the one with the wrestlers and the duck. Yeah, that one...")

And now the computer won't let me on my correspondence website. Grrrr.... correspondence courses are cool; I've earned forty-five hours of credit, which is nine promotion points, so instead of private first class, I can now be promoted to master private. I have spoken. If I were in the eligible slot, I could be a company first private. I'm also eligible for nomination to Private Major Academy.... hey, this joke is amusing me. I'm so bored right now... there's this fantastic community that's actually called b0red, I highly recommend it for times like this.

I was in the bathroom earlier and for a few incredulous seconds thought that my water had broken- looks like just a fluke, though. If anything happens for sure, many of you will find out just about immediately and the rest shall follow as soon as possible.

Dum dee dum dee dum dee dum... maybe I can get on the correspondence web site now. I shall go check- if I can't, then I shall most likely return here. And yes, I shall continue to use the word "shall" when necessary. :p In the meantime... signing off :)

The Longest Week...

Mon, 30 Jan 2006 22:28:10 GMT

Hello everyone. As you all can see, I am at work and updating. This means that I am not in labor. Grrr.... alas for poor Gary too, since this means that his instinct was awry after all (though I think that in all fairness, it should still count if I go into labor today). This calls, of course, for a first-class rant. I'm happy to see that many of you have updated- and I shall get to commenting, never fear. Part Two of "The Tale of Boing" shall come about as well, since I'm now rather curious to see what happens. However, this all may not manifest itself today, since the computer is needed this afternoon for a spot of company training (i.e. Death by Powerpoint Slideshow), this may not occur right away. We will have to see how long this rant spins out.

The rant, as you can imagine, mainly centers around my giant baby. The giant baby that has decided to take up residence right where Mommy's hips, pelvis, tailbone, and legs are in quite a lot of pain most of the day. However, that is about all that he has done so far, except irritably shift position now and then (usually when the cat lies on top of him). Yes, I know that it's not his fault- or is it? I believe I have read that the prostoglandins needed to stimulate labor are released due to chemical impulses from the fetus. In short, IT'S THE KID'S FAULT. Not even born yet, and the little twit's already grounded, mister! :p

(*Breaks from rant to muse* Is it even possible to ground a newborn? This is the demographic that gets overstimulated staring at peoples' heads for too long! *Returns to rant*)

Jumping up and down does not put one into labor. Walking hasn't worked yet, either. Certain other athletic activities are a little too tricky (and tiring) to attempt at the moment. Spicy food hasn't worked (though maybe it's not spicy enough...hmmmm. Maybe we should order curry tonight- but it would have to be curry-less curry for Gary, he's not a spicy-food eater. And we'd both have to stock up on the Tums, or neither of our coworkers would be very happy with us the next morning. Sorry about that. :D ) I haven't tried castor oil or raspberry leaf tea or hypnosis yet, but they are all tempting. The legendary "salad" is at a restaurant in Studio City, California- too far away to order, even if Mom and Dad didn't mind swinging by and grabbing some... but oh, I can taste it. If Nicholas comes on time, something I was hoping and praying for only a few weeks ago, then that means I have a week to go!

*Whimper* THE LONGEST WEEK OF MY LIFE.

Longer than that first week of basic training- no, longer than the riduculous week of inprocessing that preceded it. Longer again than the week before graduation, the week before my wedding (hell, those were practically the same week!), longer than the week I sprained my ankle in sixth grade and had to be on crutches in the damned snow, longer than the week before the next Harry Potter release, and longer than the week before every Christmas I've ever had. Evil, evil, evil. *Whimpering continues*

Hey, there is a silver lining to this DARK, DARK, EVIL MADNESS-INDUCING cloud. For one thing, I am worshipped. I had a bit of an impromptu baby shower this morning, and I now have bottles and a diaper genie and a baby tub. Cool! Many thanks to everyone. :) Even with that aside, everywhere I go I get exclamations of wonder, anecdotes about newborns, doors held open, seats offered, free rides. It's a little like being Midas, except a) it's actually a good golden touch, with a happy ending and b) I don't think Midas waddled like a drunk penguin everywhere he went. I want my mommy. *Sniff* Actually, I'm not sure who's supposed to call who next, me call Mom or Mom call me, because we called each other a lot last week for the birthdays (many, various) and then nobody called anyone on the weekend, so we shall see. Hmmmm.... the Rothkopfs have been calling a lot about the various birthdays, too, and they are another group of sympathetic ears- but thanks to the time-zone difference, it's hard to call them at opportune times. How did I just start going on about phone calls? Wasn't I just...ah, well, I guess the ranting bug is slowly winding down in me. For now. I have an appointment on Wednesday, and something tells me more ranting shall follow ("Well, Missus Rothkopf, it just so happens that your son is the size of Aloha Stadium, so we'll be forced to postpone your labor until after the Pro Bowl so he'll have somewhere to sleep...").

Hopefully Nicholas doesn't read all this sometime in the future and develop a complex. We love you very much, honey, we would just like to meet you OUTSIDE THE WOMB at this particular point in time. Please, please have mercy and start prostoglandin-ing, or whatever it is you do. (That is so the word of the day.) Okay, I'm growing a little pooped from all this ranting, and I think I might go crazy just for fun before lunch break is over, so for now- signing off :)

The Tale of Boing, Part One

Fri, 27 Jan 2006 21:43:59 GMT

Well, it is indeed Rabbit Hole Day, and I did indeed start to celebrate it with a cheerfully weird Livejournal entry... then it grew. And grew. And grew some more... and I realized in horror that I had only begun what was looking more like a story than a simply journal entry. That, and it started to get a little long, until I was forced to cut it because I realized that various people who read this- my parents, for example- won't know what Rabbit Hole Day is and would grow rather impatient if I didn't provide a full report of things like the "BEEBEE". :) Thus, I have refashioned this as more of a serial tale of weirdness: not only will it allow people to peruse the tale of my life and "The Tale of Boing" without panicking, but it leaves room for continuation of this very strange tale. That was the problem in the first place; I started to grow interested in what would happen myself!

It started off as a normal day; it really did. Getting dressed for work, not expecting anything in particular.... until I was getting dressed for work. Then the cat jumped on the bed, rolled about on the comforter, looked me right in the eye, and said "boing."

"What?"

"Like I said, boing." Igor licked his paw and rolled his eyes heavenward. "How complicated is this? 'Boing' means 'boing'!"

"Gary," I warned my husband, wandering into the living room, "Igor told me 'boing'."

Gary was wrestling with the tiny mutant bananas under the couch cushions, and not paying much attention. "Yes, dear," he murmured.

"No, seriously-"

Gary smacked at one of the bananas, which was fleeing across our carpet on spindly yellow legs. On the third try, there was a "sploop" sound, and mashed banana flew everywhere. "Ha, got him- AAGH..." he bellowed, as another banana sank its razor-sharp little teeth into his leg. "Little demonic..." and he erupted into a spate of cursing I had never heard from him.

"He won't listen to you, you know," Igor declared, winding between my legs.

"Why not?"

"Boing."

I sighed.

When I got to work, Sergeant Walker announced that we were all deploying today. "Don't worry about packing anything, we won't need it," he explained, tying a giant donut to the top of a Humvee. "We're all good, trust me- ugh," he groaned, watching a basketball-sized drop of glaze dribble down the truck's windshield. "Krispy Kremes, come on..."

Obvious questions raced through my mind... um, aren't deployments supposed to be announced? And prepared for at least several months in advance? And women on the verge of giving birth usually didn't deploy, yet somehow here I was holding a... rifle? No- a Super Soaker. Filled with whipping cream.

Well, at least it was one of the good types, with the big chamber for ammo- er, cream.

Where were we deploying to anyway? Iraq? Afghanistan?

"Antartica."

"No, seriously, sergeant."

Sergeant Walker tugged at the last knot, ensuring the donut was secure. "I am being serious," he ensured me, wiping frosting off the rear-view mirrors.

Well, at least it's summer there, I thought grimly. It'll only be what, negative fifty there? Positively toasty, in Antartica... at that point, light-headed and convinced I was delirious, I began to laugh maniacally.

"That's the spirit," Igor chirped by my side. I jumped several feet in the air, still laughing wildly.

"And of course you're here, too!"

He eyeballed me coolly, washing behind his ears with his paw. "Boing."

...And yes, Sergeant Walker would love to be presented with a giant Krispy Kreme- I'm hoping Part Two involves the unnamed Narrator *cough*yourstruly*cough* being presented with some of this monstrous, sweet concoction.

In a twist of real life that is almost as weird, Gary is convinced somehow that I'm going to give birth this weekend. No joke. This sort of intuition is freaky, coming from him; this is the man who claims that he has no intuition. I don't know if this means that me giving birth that soon is merely a strongly expressed wish on his part, or if this is something that should be taken seriously because it's never happened before. We shall see... right now I feel darn well ready to give birth: over the past few days, I've grown accutely aware of Nicholas' head resting right there at the starting line, if you will. It's a very bizarre feeling, and the only way I can think of describing it involves a couple of impolite metaphors. Other than that, though, there is nothing to indicate that Nicholas is making a move yet, so the waiting game continues...

There has been a curious development over the last few days that it's probably now time to report on- it starts with my Grandpa Horn, who has spent the past twenty years or so mapping the family genealogy as far back as the 1700's. Unfortunately, he has recently passed on... earlier, I'd been offered to help with this work, and said "yes" because the genealogy interested me- but this was at the time where most projects of mine were pursued for about a week, and then abandoned in favor of the next project, the cycle continues, etc. (I don't know who suffered more with this- my teachers, who say nary an ounce of homework from me during this time; or my parents, who had to figure out what was all over my bedroom carpet this time.) Anyway, I've now been again offered to continue Grandpa's work; this time, with the same curiosity and an adult's commitment, I definitely said yes. This sounds like a fascinating project... the curious part of all this is that I'm apparently also receiving all or part of "Baby", the family computer- Dad didn't seem sure about the practicality of shipping the monitor, but then Mom thought that sounded wacky and didn't see why the whole computer couldn't be shipped. Gary likes the idea of receiving the whole computer- "Hey, we'll have a computer!"- but doesn't like the idea of Nicholas pulling Baby's heavy original monitor on top of himself and likes the idea of a nice flatscreen instead. I just think this is all curious, and will wait and see... any computer is a boon, and the added bonus is a hard drive full of Grandpa's research into the family tree. This will grow especially interesting because not only is this the Horn side of the family, but there is also Mom's research into her side of the family, and Eric's research into the Rothkopf genealogy. This could all turn out to be a very rich heritage for Nicholas, so that's pretty cool. :)

Okay, this post, between one thing and another, has stretched until lunchtime- it is definitely time to nosh. In the meantime, Happy Rabbit Hole Day, and Happy Weekend if this is the last post for today... signing off :)

Extra Ramblings

Thu, 26 Jan 2006 21:49:37 GMT

...I have returned again, but only for a moment with a few thoughts, and then it is off to lunch. First of all, the training "next door" (meaning in our training room that is technically the "next door over", but still part of our area) was quite interesting, and I would have liked to have caught more of it but supply demands kept cropping up. Alas... it was taught by a Special Forces sergeant, too! Now that is a very good day of training... sorry, no elaboration here, the Army's getting tough about people rambling on in blogs and exposing training methods and other things to the enemy. So, for the record- if you are the enemy and you're reading this, bugger off. :p

Another thing I almost forgot to mention is that I nearly threw the (rather large and awkward-shaped) TV out the window after last night's episode of "Lost." Graaaaaaaaaa again! I love Charlie and Locke, and seeing them spar off about Claire and Aaron like angry roosters is going to drive me mad... then there was the teaser for next week's episode, which is also driving me crazy. First of all, if the Others said that there was a line that nobody was going to cross, why does it look like they are happily rampaging across it? Maybe there are details that I am missing, that a truly obsessed fan would have to clue me in on- and yeah, "this is our island," they probably figure the line counts for the plane-crash folks but not for them. Or something like that. Then there is the fact that it looks like Sun might end up in some kind of danger, and she's too sweet and nice! Grrr... there's always one or two of those really nice types in every bunch, and if something were to happen to them you'd go crazy. On "Lost", it's a rather large group: like I said, Sun; Claire and the baby, of course; the eternal Nice Guy, Hurley; Rose and her husband; and of course poor old Walt- yes, that's driving me nuts, too. Not that I'd want any of the other characters to get hurt, mind you- it just wouldn't sting quite as much if one of the other folks had something happen to them, because they're the ones out there having adventures, the Jacks and Kates and Sawyers and Charlies and Lockes and Jins and Michaels, et cetera. The "nice guys" are the ones hanging around minding their own business (more or less), so it just feels... meaner... to go after them. I think the point is made. Humph.

Okay, it's time to go find some lunch of some sort- probably just a sandwich or something, I'm not horribly hungry-GASP! I'm really not, though... once baby's satiated, I really will be too. Ooh, that reminds me- we also pre-registered at the hospital yesterday, and it was funny to see them make up a folder for me with my name, and a folder for Nicholas that simply said "Rothkopf," and then blank. How cute!- it'll be neat to see them fill out the first name with "Nicholas" when he's born, I guess they just weren't about to do that yet because there is still the INFINITESSIMAL chance (trust me, you should have seen the ultrasound) that Nicholas could turn out to be a Nicole- we're screwed if he is, even his baby book cheerfully declares "Thank Heaven for Little Boys" on the front! Hehehehe... again, the chances are puny. Okay, time for that lunch now... signing off again. :)

Thu, 26 Jan 2006 20:38:40 GMT

Graaaa... it's one of those days, it seems. Moderately quiet around the office, very quiet on the computer, and wet and dreary outside. And I'm hungry, but have no convenient food at the moment. Damn- I have this tendency to eat it all lately. Maybe oboedude could send me some naughty baked goods; reading her last post almost made me drool. :) I could tell it was a slow day when I actually ventured into the Army Knowledge Online forums, also known in my mind as the Forums of Doom- if you think you've read heated political discussion on the Internet, and you have not been to these forums, you ain't seen nothing yet. Nobody argues about what's best for the troops the way the troops do- but it can get very nasty sometimes, so I venture in there at my own risk. Gary has a similiar approach for the Outpost Gallifrey chatroom: enter only if you dare. The Man in the Wheezing Blue Box prompts strong emotions in many, it seems.

Well, the thirty-eight week appointment was yesterday, and I have been assured that the baby is going nowhere just yet. If he shows any indication of otherwise, I'm supposed to give them a call, really standard procedure, yadda yadda yadda. The only real interesting development is that some swab of the area they did last time came back positive for bacteria, or something like that, and apparently it comes back positive for about half of pregnant women and is nothing to worry about, but it means they all get antibiotics during labor so that the baby doesn't come out glowing green. Or something like that. Anyway, I'm not particularly thrilled about this because antibiotics are usually delivered in either a shot or an IV, and I've never minded needles but it does seem like everyone on Earth is trying to stick something in my veins lately, with varying rates of success. So my blood vessels heard about antibiotics, and started to weep. I could be safe, though- the doctor specifically asked if I was allergic to penicillin, and penicillin can be taken orally, right? I think I remember having to take penicillin as a kid, when I had strep throat or something- or maybe it was another antibiotic. And then there is the fact that this is the Army, and they've already administered one dose of penicillin to me, and it was indeed in a shot- God, what a shot!! Ask anyone in the Army about the dreaded "butt shot" they receive upon joining up, and watch them turn pale in fright... :p

One other interesting thing that came out of yesterday's appointment: I'm measuring a week ahead. I should be at 38 centimeters, and I'm at 39 instead. Hmmm... big baby. The general prognosis is, in fact, "this baby is going to be rather large." However, I didn't warrant another ultrasound or anything like that, since I'm rather large as well, and there is no indication that I will have trouble pushing Nicholas out when the time comes to do so. Dang- I was kind of hoping for the free pictures of baby as well as a report on that kid's weight now, since it has to be substantial. Oh, well, I can't complain that everything's going normally, so that's alright. My size is the talk of family, friends, and the office lately- my belly extends nearly halfway out to my knees, I have to fight to secure the bottom button of my BDUs, and I've given up wearing anything besides any shirt that will fit me and these two pairs of shorts that can still (more or less) encircle my girth. The drawstrings have been pushed to their limits, but they suffice for now.

There is interesting training going on next door, so I think I shall go see... poor Gruber is playing an EPW, and two other privates are searching her, and the instructing NCO is trying not to crack up every time that Gruber gets rolled over and makes squeaky noises! I may report later on, we shall see... in the meantime, though, signing off :)

Rabbit Hole Day

Tue, 24 Jan 2006 22:20:39 GMT

Back again. Many thanks to butterflyangels for spreading the word about this... go crazy on your livejournal post for a day! Sounds like my sort of thing, eh? :D

January 27th is the Second AnnualLiveJournal Rabbit Hole Day!Travel through time. Turn into an animal. Flee from assassins. Talk to your goldfish.

Many thanks to the rabbitholeday community for the info and the banner. :)

The Good, the Bad, the Ugly... and Term!

Tue, 24 Jan 2006 21:39:44 GMT

The day after.... well, yesterday turned into quite the odd but pleasant day, with Gary making me breakfast, and then everyone at work being at the motorpool so I essentially got the morning off; the afternoon at work promised to be wacky but ended up pretty calm, so go figure. I worked on a nice, easy correspondence subcourse to follow up the rather difficult course that I've finally finished, and then Gary made me tacos for dinner and we had cake and ice cream and watched a movie, very nice. Gary actually made the cake himself, and unfortunately the cake mix gods were vengeful upon him and the poor thing feel half-apart when it came out of the pan, but it was fudge marble and still tasted delicious! The "Footbutt" is learning more and more cooking things, and we are quite proud of him about this.

Unfortunately, this is the good news to go with the bad and the ugly... the bad being about Grandpa Horn, and the ugly (but improving in complexion, by the sound of it) being the Great Cross-Country Endeavor (Part III) that "the folks" are working on. I don't want to go on too much about either here, because it's personal business, but I will say that having all three of these things- the Good, the Bad, and the Somewhat Ugly- happen at once leaves a person with some very tricky emotions. Strange, all this.

(Anyone who's wondering why I'm refering to the Endeavor as the ugly one has never been on a cross-country move. They are frequently successful and often even fun, but they sure can be ugly when they want to as well! Especially when persnickety caged felines are involved...)

(Hehehe, the word of the day is now "persnickety".)

Along with all this is the Very Good News- as of today, Nicholas is a full term baby. That means that anytime between now and a month out (February 21st), he is game to be born. Since half the population of Planet Earth has decided that he's going to come early, and the other half has decided that he is going to come late, I have decided that he will come right on time. February 7th, 2006, at exactly forty weeks gestation... I even have a doctor's appointment that day at the hospital, so my ideal fantasy is go to in there and be told "Hey, you're dilated, go upstairs to Labor and Delivery." Yay! Babies are rather unpredictable creatures, so my happy wish here is probably in vain, but one can hope! ;-)

That's about all I can think of for now- except for maybe one fast comment about the Super Bowl matchup perhaps, because even though it was sad that Denver lost the AFC title, at least it was fair and square and to a team that seems kind of cool- that is, Pittsburgh. Their fans seem as fervent and proliferent as the Raiders', but not nearly as creepy, so that's a good sign. As for Seattle- well, it's their very first Super Bowl, so I don't know much about them either but good for them too. This game is bound to be interesting, because in my mind I'm going to see lots of good blue-collar guys against lots of "yippies"- interesting. We shall see. Anyway, I shall report if anything new and interesting comes up, and in the meantime... Signing off. :)

Birthday!

Tue, 24 Jan 2006 03:15:13 GMT

Yay! I have now been on this planet for a full two decades! Goodies. :)

A full report should come about upon the morrow- right now I'm only halfway through the actual birthday, so I will return when there is more to report... Love, Me! (Signing off. :)

Fleeking Flocking Things

Fri, 20 Jan 2006 20:28:06 GMT

I haff returned again- and it is so dang freaky at the moment. Everyone WAS here; evidence of their existence is all over this office; now the only problem is, where are they? Probably off doing something that I can't do because I'm very fleeking pregnant at the moment (for those of you not fluent in Hornish, "fleeking" is one of the best words ever)... the commander and the first sergeant here, and the most interesting thing going on at all was the three of us gathered around some strange harness thing found in the bottom of one of the supply cabinets, going "What is it?" McKenna gave me a Frappucino on Wednesday, but then I wasn't here on Thursday so she apparently drank it. Damn. I was looking forward to that Frappucino- but I can get another one, and revel in it happily. Nicholas doesn't mind a little caffeine now and then-doctors say that 200mg a day during pregnancy is fine- and Frappucinos are diluted with milk, giving them a) a little less coffee and b) a little more calcium. Splendid.

Gary has called out of work today since he feels nasty- the poor thing is this blob on the couch at home, groaning. At first I thought that I had given him the same cold I had a few days ago, but his stomach seems to be the main source of the problem. He doesn't think it was anything he ate- we shall see. This is most unfair because his twenty-first birthday is coming up this Wednesday, so he needs to have a good healthy stomach- that way, we can go out somewhere to eat and he can have that first taste of "inkahol." :)

Okay, first Eric is trying to jinx me- now I think my own first sergeant is going to as well, though he swears he's not trying to! Why is everyone so convinced that I'm going to go into labor next week???!! I am now scared- maybe they know something I don't. They are both fathers. I am new at this business. Eeeek!!!!! At least we have the car seat now- we can actually bring our baby home when I deliver him! This is a highly beneficial thing. Next order of business is hopefully a computer of some sort, because I am finally fed up with only being able to use one at work- now that Gary has a job, the money is there, and after that I can stop stressing about that and focus the next couple of paychecks on pulling out car money.

Okay, a very strange morning now- a battle buddy, unfortunately, can't get her tongue ring out this morning, and it is a big no-no when you're in uniform- she is now looking around for anyone with very clean fingers to help her pull it out! I gave it a try (despite warning her about my dangerous, pregnancy-enriched fingernails- thankfully, I didn't scratch her!)... no luck, though. The thing is stuck. A few other people are going to try now... well, the ties that bind in the Army are very strong! We're all trained to die for each other; a little spit is nothing compared to that, when it comes right down to it. That's the philosophical outlook on this situation- then there is the "wince factor." A stuck tongue ring, OW! :O

One more thing I need is a stroller- otherwise, poor Gary is going to end up with very sore arms, always having to carry baby in his seat! (Because when the man who can fling toilets around is about, of course we shall pass him the heavy baby!) Strollers aren't too bad price-wise; it's bulk-wise that's the problem, but the neighbors should be willing to help. They are so generous!- it would be a great project for Gary to do on this day off, if he weren't feeling sickly. I should have put him to work calling car rental agencies for Penny, or something useful, but oh well. At least he said he might go for a grocery run later today, and use one of the WIC checks we now have. I can't complain about free food, especially since money is rather fleeking tight at the moment ("fleeking" again reigns as the best word ever.)

Okay, that's about all for now- I'll probably remember a million other things to write about later, but then I'll... write about them later. In the meantime, I'll work on correspondence, since I only have a lesson to go in this one course. Yay! Signing off :)

A Four-Day Weekend's Worth of Rambling! (Now in Color!)

Wed, 18 Jan 2006 20:49:36 GMT

I declare that it is too dang quiet around here at the moment. This is especially surprising because a lot of the livlier people are here right now; my theory is that many of them have the new Army uniforms now (ACUs- the kind of bluish-gray ones with the velcro) and the things are supposed to be as comfy as pajamas, so they're all trying to take naps. Yesterday was another one of those evil "Monday" Tuesdays, so there you go- everybody's trying to take a nap to recover from the dreaded ~~Monday~~ Tuesday. I guess I can't complain, though- federal employee, four-day weekend for Martin Luther King Jr. Day and all that- hehehehehe... :p

An amusing thing just happened- it started quite simply, the first sergeant popping in to make sure that I had a "what to do" plan for that inevitable moment when Nicholas comes (it's quite a decent plan, too, in my opinion: if Jen's mom can't take me for some very unusual reason, then Gary will probably call the entire 185th MI Company and they will all show up in my driveway and lead me there in a grand parade down the H-2 to Tripler. Actually, he'll probably panic and call them all anyway- hey, first sergeant said he doesn't mind! :) Anyway, next thing I know all the platoon sergeants and the first sergeant are holding an impromptu meeting in the supply room, accompanied only by me tapping away at my Livejournal and listening curiously to their plans on wire obstacle training. This sort of thing happens often- "Aha, we all have found the first sergeant, let us now discuss things with him before he escapes again." At least the discussion is only on wire obstacle training, and not something hairier. Being a company first sergeant does not seem to be a job for the faint of heart, disorganized of mind, or weak of guts.

I got really bad nesting instinct over the weekend- the entire bedroom got ramsacked, and I must have done about ten loads of laundry. Our bedroom is now so clean, it's actually kind of boring- it could use a little decoration, so that'll be a good "rainy day" project for Gary and I sometime. Then, on Monday, I had worn myself out- I just put the crib together and finished "Half-Blood Prince" again on a whim. (I think I mentioned earlier how I had started to read it again- I had actually started to read "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell", but then saw a reference to a "Polkiss" which made me go for the Harry Potter again. Then there are a couple of other books I'm reading at the same time. Aaaah, this is the usual manner of things...)

On Friday, before all this nesting instinct insanity, I had my first appointment over at Tripler- there, it was confirmed that despite the baby having dropped last week, I'm not dilated yet; so maybe my father-in-law Eric's theory that I'm going to give birth next week ("GAAAAA!", I responded) won't come true after all. Or maybe they will, with a) my luck and b) the fact that I'm carrying a Rothkopf. They tend to enter the world ahead of schedule, apparently regardless of the mother's genes- Nicholas' future Uncle Kris has already declared that the baby's an underacheiver for not having showed up already! The kid's still in there at thirty-seven weeks and one day, and this is considered impressive. "Me scared, me is..."

SGT S's side of the office is now a little disoriented, because she just hung a whiteboard up vertically that we'd originally been writing on horizontally, meaning that all the writing is now sideways. Looking at it makes my already-blurry-from-pregnancy eyes water in confusion. I'm already going to need to get inserts for my issued gas mask after I have the baby, so maybe I can find out if I need glasses too- I've heard that sometimes the wrath inflicted on a woman's vision during pregnancy goes away after the baby's born, and sometimes it doesn't. I also get to have five wisdom teeth, and possibly two baby teeth, taken out after I give birth. Yes, you read that right. FIVE wisdom teeth. Where there would only be one wisdom tooth in the upper left-hand corner of my mouth, there are apparently two. Genetic mutation, or a sign of THEM? Either way, all five of them are cheerfully coming in at that weird sideways angle- what's that called again, erupting? Then there are the baby teeth- I've had them forever, for the simple reason that there are no adult teeth to push them out (again, is this the fault of DNA or THEM?!!!!) -and it's apparently time that something was done about them. I'm not complaining, unless I end up with braces or something equally drastic, and the folks that evaluated me earlier said that's unlikely from what they can tell so far... on the bright side, the Army would pay for braces, so at least that's not two thousand dollars towards the evil things on top of everything else. On the other hand... that's three years or so of braces. And I'll be twenty on Monday, for goodness sake, married and in the Army and a new mother- braces don't fit into that image. I've always found them to be weird on adults, that's all. Again, this is a thankfully unlikely possibility- it just gave me something to go on about for a little while. And if all else really fails, the poo hits the fan, et cetera- maybe the Army will pay for the clear ones that go over the teeth. They'll pay for lasik surgery and breast augmentation, so why not? :D

Okay, lunch is coming up in another hour- there really is nothing to do right now here, so maybe I can respond to any friends I haven't commented yet, or finish up a correspondence lesson, or maybe even start the test for the subcourse if I'm feeling really "high-speed". I don't know, though- if I were feeling that productive, I probably wouldn't have spent so long writing another novel! :p See you all later- signing off :)

La La La La La La La.....

Wed, 11 Jan 2006 22:30:08 GMT

...Yes, it is one of those days. A very quiet, long day... through an evil twist of fate, SSG G is being moved to another unit, and we are not amused. I have already decided that we are going to lock her in a closet so that they can't get her. She's small, she's easy to hide... at least the new sergeant seems cool; she's here now so that means the office is really wacky now. Or it would be, but SSG G had CQ the night before so she's at home and McKenna's off at the GPC certification class. Oh, lucky thing, she gets to spend eight hours with about 70,642 other impatient souls getting lectured on why you shouldn't spend government money on drugs and porn. Exciting class, that one is, she says with dripping sarcasm. So, it's just the new sergeant and me, and she's headed off to lunch right now. Sergeant Session, that is; I've never heard of a last name of "Session" before, isn't that curious? Of course, how many people have heard of "Rothkopf"? So there you go, I suppose. Knowing me, she'll just be "SGT S" most of the time, because it's convenient, et cetera. Anyway, things are rather confusing at the moment because she's sort of here, but not officially so, and SSG G is still here for as long as the commander can hang on to her with all his might, and I'm here but very ready and willing to pop a baby out of me at any moment. And then there is our dear PFC McK, who is still pretty much learning her job... why don't they teach anyone anybody's job in job training, it seems? Sigh.......

Our first sergeant just provided what has to now be the quote of the day: "At the end of the day, somebody's going to die...at my hands." (As long as it's not me, I am willing to watch in mild amusement. It really is one of those days. :P )

Gary had his first day of work yesterday, and was about half-dead tired (you know what I mean) when I got home. Now he's got some kind of a crazy schedule for this week, since they're training him up apparently, and today's a day off for him but he didn't come back for lunch so hopefully that means that he's bringing the crib mattress back to Walmart to be exchanged. I am hopeful regarding this. He also needs to keep working on assembling the crib, which is fighting him every step of the way; at this point, I will be happy if it comes out as a device that Nicholas can sleep in without crashing to the floor or finding yummy chemicals in the finish to munch on. Details like having four legs to stand on or having a left and right side may end up being optional, because I think the crib is pan-dimensional. I don't think it adhers to the standard rules of time and space. For all we know, there are twenty other alien babies sleeping in it somewhere, as well as a teenaged Nicholas sleeping in the "adult bed" version and the crib itself starring in an off-Broadway production about the perils of modern life (which can be substantial at times.) The only good thing about all this, it seems, is that Nicholas seems to know that I'm writing about him and is kicking my diaphragm in adorable (if slightly sore) response.

That reminds me, I have a new coworker who is also pregnant now; she's about five months along and we have been having a grand time sharing anecdotes (anacdotes? Gaaaaaa....) I warned her this morning that when she goes to get her maturnity uniforms, she'll pull out the extra elastic and have a grand old time laughing with everyone about "Hey, look how big I'm going to get!" and then the ninth month will arrive and all that "extra" elastic will be too tight. She laughed and winced at the same time- "Oh, no, don't tell me that!" I like her; she has a good sense of humor and this will become necessary later on when reaching her shoelaces becomes one of the more momentous parts of the day. And that reminds me- I'm carrying on about never having heard the last name "Session", and how could I forget a last name of "Zook"? She is, indeed, a Specialist Zook. I had to ask, of course, and she laughed again- she married into the name, just like I married into the name "Rothkopf", and it took a while for both of us to learn to write and respond to these names. Then we both laughed. Nowadays, I think I'm called "Rothkopf" more often than I'm called "Victoria"- the Army is interesting like that.

McKenna just got back from "that frickin' class." Told you it was boring. Very merciful of the instructor, though, letting them out this early- I had to be there for way too long when I took the class, so she's lucky. Now she's off for lunch, and I'm thinking of grabbing some kind of snack because it is just too depressingly quiet in this office right now. As you can gather from previous posts, I'm used to a flurry of bizarre and amusing activity. With that, I leave you all for now... signing off. :)

Bungling Baffwater

Mon, 09 Jan 2006 21:15:43 GMT

...Wouldn't that be the most splendid name for a little British town? I just thought of that a minute ago, while trying to puzzle out my email. Evil thing... well, the Cool News of the Day is that we have the crib, we are attempting to assemble it now and are having some amount of sucess. Unfortunately, the crib seems utterly determined not to be assembled; I suppose it likes the freedom of being an infinitessimal array of tiny parts that can go about and do as they like. Actually being one large, useful object is just too confining. The Annoying News of the Day is that the evil $#^$^#^$#%s at Walmart gave us a Kolcraft mattress when we paid for a Sealy, so now poor Gary has to go bother the poor neighbors again to bring it back and get the damned proper mattress. Grrrrrrr... God bless our neighbors the Ostrums, they have a large SUV that can hold such things, as well as a bottomless well of patience. Gary also gets to buy his first "aloha shirt" today, since it is part of the uniform for his new job- his training day is tomorrow from nine to two, so we will see. It's odd to think he'll actually have to get up before me tomorrow- this is bound to be either a riot or surprisingly non-eventful. After this, he should be working mostly Friday-through-Monday type shifts, which means that the weekends might be a little boring but they might also be a good time for me to invoke my budding "nesting instinct" and root out a few old closets. Or, if all else fails, I can write- I've been on a good solid kick lately and have only paused to outline a little (a task I desperately needed to do, there were about five million little scenes floating in my head that I finally organized).

Work is quiet today, since everyone's down in the motorpool at the moment. SSG G is sick at home today, so everyone send her a little "get well" wish or prayer- or if you can fit chicken soup through your DSL line, I'm sure she'd welcome that too. Monday is a day of spite, so one of the few things that has gone on today is an argument between two coworkers who normally get along- depressing. Everything's been very quiet lately- Saturday was quiet because Gary was at orientation, so I flopped around all day (literally, I'm huge now)... did the aforementioned outline, finished my Christmas chocolate, started to read "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell", but only got to about page eight because there was a reference to a "Polkiss" and that made me go flipping through "Half-Blood Prince" for a little while. Then I watched "Apollo 13" on the TV and grated cheese, so that the macaroni (well, rigatoni) and cheese for dinner was about halfway done when Gary walked in. Exciting, eh? :p It was actually very relaxing, though I made a mess and I'm always the one hollering about messes. All this goes to show that not only is my ADHD diagnosis very, very accurate, but I can also be a little hypocritical about messes at times. Admit it willingly or no, but any bathroom towels out in the living room are almost always my doing. Alas.

Dad says the rats on aircraft carriers grow to the size of bison. From there, I wonder, do they catch a bus from Pearl Harbor to Schofield, and then happily eat several MREs and two peoples' berets? My commander (one of the beret victims) has an elaborate, self-devised rat trap in his office (one of the components is Draino-spiked peanut butter, blegh) and is now threatening to mount the heads of the rats he has caught, to serve as a warning to all other rats. I hope he doesn't, though, because our company's office already smells weirdly of old local plate lunches, Tabasco, and coffee. (Any former serviceperson who's ever been to Hawaii just might be keeling over with laughter right now, because every military building in Hawaii smells like that.) Speaking of the office, it's finally grown so cold in here that I've turned on our nifty little space heater out of frustration. I can barely type, my fingers feel frozen! (Great alliteration, hehehe.)

Today is the official end of my eighth month of pregnancy, and tomorrow is the official beginning of the dreaded ninth month. With that, it is now time to start scheduling weekly appointments at Tripler...these will be interesting, I'm looking forward to an estimate of how much this kid weighs now. Gary is rather hyper and is talking about packing the bags for the hospital pretty soon- I'm hyper, too. I'm just not sure which I'm more hyper about, getting to have the baby or not being pregnant anymore. Probably I'll want to just be pregnant again a month into raising an infant, if all the warnings from every other mother on Earth hold true, but that's hard to think of when, as was famously noted last entry, I can no longer fit under my desk at work. I can barely fit in my uniforms either. Every time the thought of sleeping on my belly or eating sushi or goat cheese or drinking anything with expresso or getting in a Jacuzzi or a sauna or even getting off the couch myself enter my mind, it is hard not to cry. I wonder if Nicholas feels similiar about all this- he's kicking pretty hard, I'm sure he wants out about now. How much room could be left for him? However, once he's out, he'll probably miss the steady diet of oranges and cheese and pasta and Wheat Thins and milk and cookies and the occasional vanilla soda or Slurpee from the shopette or chai tea latte from Starbucks (mmmmmmmm) and just have to settle for breast milk; will he feel let down? (Nursing mothers laugh at the atrocious pun. :) Maybe that's the real reason newborns cry so much. And then, six months later(well, now the AAP's saying seven now from what I've read), the kid gains back some solid food in the form of bland, depressing rice cereal, and it's the most shocking experience ever. He has to use his own mouth now, there's no umbilical cord to pump fettucine alfredo right into his little belly! Infancy is cruel, when you start to think about it like that.

Okay, my fingers are now growing numb beneath this keyboard... there will be further reports on the Crib Scenario, Job Scenario, and all other Scenarios under discussion as news comes in. Until then, myself and SSG C (who is happily bouncing about the office singing "Skiminarink a dink a dink, skiminarink a doo...") bid you all an at least tolerable Monday. If you can pull off a good Monday, cool! Send the good karma over here (through the DSL lines with the soup, perhaps), I have a few battle buddies who could use it. Signing off! :)

P.S. Yes, this SSG C is the same sergeant who was banging on an African drum in a previous post. Need I even mention that all us privates practically worship him? Besides, he's got some of the best stories about Iraq on top of everything else...)

Happy Semi-New Year...? ("Right")

Wed, 04 Jan 2006 22:39:50 GMT

Well, it's the fourth of January, so the year is technically four days older than it was on the new year, so by now it's only a semi new year...or something like that. So, this is the first post of the new year, eh? Interesting. There is a baby crib waiting for us at Walmart, and a stroller order that has been cancelled, and apparently we are getting off early today so we can all go home and watch the Rose Bowl, and I need a blood test for the WIC program here. So all this is what is currently on my mind. Now that I have addressed this, I shall address my giant baby. He no longer fits under my desk. I have to sit on the edge of my chair, propped up on a giant pillow that SSG G brought in one day for no obvious reason (this was at least a month ago; the pillow could be our mascot now) and leaning over the hulking mass of my belly to reach the laptop. They've painted in here, so everything is crazy, and nobody can find anything. Gary has found the same tabloid that has been circulating around the company for months now (it's become good friends with the pillow) and is laughing himself silly over "Angel Struck by Lightning!" and similiar stories. Altogether, the strangeness is back. As our company commander so shrewdly remarked a minute ago, "Are those peoples' glasses again?"

Nothing ever makes sense. If it made sense, it would stop working, and then people would have to do something about this.

I did not want to go to work yesterday, after my impromptu two-week vacation! Lazy, lazy, lazy... around four in the morning yesterday, I woke up with a few Braxton-Hicks contractions (the fake ones, that is) and my first groggy thought was "Yes! I'm going to go into labor and I won't have to go back to work! And, I'll be able to sleep on my belly and eat sushi and play with Nicholas and see my knees and the stretch marks will go away..." Nope. It's still too early anyway, so I don't really want to give birth yet, but these last five weeks are going to be maddening. The ninth month of pregnancy is just there to irritate people, I think. Every single fleeking person in the Army has now made fun of my waddle, I swear! And then there's the fact that we keep the small, high-up bathroom windows open to let the steam out, which means that everytime I'm in there and start hollering "Gary, I'm lactating again!" the entire neighborhood can hear me. Oh, well, bully to them. They probably find it entertaining.

Speaking of the neighborhood- there is a giant neighborhood yard sale coming up, which means that we can now try and make some money out of things like Gary's old plaid flannel shirts and the half-dozen extra phones which my dear mother ("hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...") keeps sending to us. We have enough phones to set up a "Give the Rothkopfs Money Telethon". I'll juggle and waddle, Gary will rant, and Igor will kill roaches, and people will laugh at all this nonsense and send us lots of money. I will reward them for their generosity with baked treats. Anyway... everyone come to my yard sale on the fourteenth. Here is how to find me:

1. Go to Hawaii. If airline tickets are too expensive (and they probably are), sneak into the substantial cargo hold of the USS Ronald Reagan. Dad says it's coming this way fairly soon. Don't bring snakes, they'll just send them back home.

2. Go to O'ahu. You will be able to recognize it by the low hum of shopping tourists and very happy surfers. From there, find Schofield Barracks. The most effective way to do this is to follow the freeway signs that say "Schofield Barracks" and have convenient little arrows. Good luck.

3. Go into the commanding general's office and ask for Private First Class Rothkopf. When he looks at you weirdly, mumble something apologetic and shuffle out the door. Come again the next day; when he says "hey, it's you again," ask him where the 185th MICO is. Don't ask what it means, because he'll know. Go where he tells you, because he is the commanding general after all.

4. When you get to the company, you will find me in the supply room attempting to create chaos. Subvert me, and tell me that you are here for the yard sale. I will happily sell you a plaid flannel shirt, a telephone, and probably some cookies now. If you have known food allergies, politely decline the cookies.

5. If you're either overly obnoxious or in the Air Force, mumble something apologetic and back out the door again. Otherwise, the infantrymen will catch you here and beat you up. Thank you for your cooperation.

In non-related news, the parents are moving to Rhode Island. I had a feeling Mom was getting wanderlust again. We are akin, in that we both miss New England; neither California nor Hawaii have four seasons and it is rather sad. Dad says that he is "along for the ride", and I still can't believe that Grandma is going with them... pretty cool, though. This puts both mine and Gary's families close enough to visit each other, and it also means that we get a vacation in Newport whenever we go to see them now. Part of me thinks they're crazy for doing this, but that's mainly because the Army has spoiled me on airplanes. I never got on one before I had joined, and now it seems like I'm never off one... here's hoping that everything goes wonderfully, and that Grandma doesn't freeze come winter! Maybe we should sell here one of those flannel shirts.

Okay, this is another novel... I will explain one thing about the title here, though. Remember Bill Cosby's "Noah"?
"Noah, build me an ark." "...............................Right." (Something like that.) Anyway, that is all for now...love and kisses and telephones to you all. Signing off :)

P.S. That's "Joy to the World" as in "Jeremiah was a bullfrog...was a good friend of mine..." It was playing in the arms room yesterday, and it's a good song, so I've had it in my head ever since. Someone who knows their oldies: was that CCR? I think it was, but I'm not sure. Dad will probably know. Anyway...the song's probably stuck in your head now. Mwahahhahahahahahahaha!!!!!...................