Thankful...

It is the time of year to pause and reflect on the things for which you are grateful. Actually, it should be done continuously throughout the year, but now is good too. So, here goes.

I am thankful for my beautiful children, Morgan and Jacob. I am thankful for their health, their humor, their resilience, their intelligence, and all the little things about them that make them so uniquely them. They are light and joy to my soul, even when they are testing their independence (and their parents) I am thankful that I am raising strong children.

I am thankful for my husband Bart. I am thankful for his heart, his strength, his character. I am thankful for the substance within him and once again, thankful for all the little things about him that make him so uniquely him. For dreaming big, for having the intelligence and motivation to actually achieve those dreams. There has been no individual on this planet other than Bart that was so worthy an investment of my heart, soul, mind, devotion, loyalty, everything. I believe in Bart. Thank you for Bart.

I am thankful for this new little being, Francesca, that Bart and I decided to create. I am thankful for her wiggles and her kicks. I am thankful for her apparent health so far and am in continuous prayer for her continued health. I know she will bring more joy to our family than we can even imagine.

I am thankful for a loving family, a mother who I truly respect and look up to and aspire to be like, wonderful siblings so talented and good hearted, a father so stoic and successful, a stepmother so willing to be there for me, a stepdad that provides so well for mom and the kids and loves us all in his own way. An extended family that is so diverse and wonderful.

I am thankful for Stacia, my oldest and dearest friend. She is tried and true, the one person I can call in the middle of the night and cry to. In actuality, to call her "friend" falls much too short of what she is. She is family. She just is. I love her dearly, no matter what.

I am thankful for having everything I need, a home, food, job, car to get me there, all the basics that I tend to take for granted. My health, my soul, what makes me who I am.

I am thankful for a God that is good, even when other things are not.

I am blessed.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Camille

Hey! Long time no blog... (subtitle: She said, He heard...)

Bad weekend folks. Let me start by saying that sulking is bad. No wait, let me start by saying that nesting is inevitable and a practical necessity. NOW I'll say that sulking is bad. It is. Period.

However, after duly apologizing for said sulking I tried to communicate with Bart. Here is my version of a reinactment in a nutshell.

She said: Bart, I'm having a hard time finding a balance between not nagging and telling you what I need your help with.

He heard: You lazy bastard why don't you ever help me with anything around the house? You're good for nothing and I abhore you.

Then after much yelling at me, (who wouldn't yell at someone who called them a lazy, abhored bastard that never does anything after all?)and many hours later...

She said: I don't want to fight Bart but I'd like to know, are you not helping me around the house because we fought about it and you're trying to make the point that if I fight with you about it you won't help?

He heard: You f-ing retarded asshat... You must do what I say when I say it, you must bow to my every command, you must be subservient and be my bitch - that's all you are, after all, is my little girly bitch.

So, after much yelling again (Who wouldn't tell their wife to shut the f up and get off their f-ing back when she is calling him her little bitch and demanding total subserviency really?)Bart wore himself out and fell asleep on the couch.

So, it was a productive, peaceful, pleasant weekend at Bart and Camille's place this weekend.

The moral of the story: Sulking is bad. Men really are from Mars and Women really are from Venus... obviously.

To be safe here I must also add that being Martian, I'm sure Bart has a very, VERY different version of the said events as cited. Being a very good Venutian, I'm plenty big enough to admit that and am also big enough to invite Bart to post his Martian version at will.

By the way Bart, you're a cyborg.... and I love you.

Thankfully, there's always another weekend.

Exhaustedly,
Camille

Francesca @ 24w 3d

So, thanks to my shortened cervix we got a second ultrasound yesterday and another look at little Francesca. She is looking good! She's a svelte 1lb. 12oz. - looks like she might be able to be a super-model as long as she can maintain her weight. I was relieved to see she DOES have a right arm, as well as a left one. It dawned on me after the 1st ultrasound that I didn't see it. She didn't have to have a right arm for me to love her, but it helps when you want to play pat-a-cake. Anyways, all is well in my womb and the cervix is looking like a non-issue since it only shortened by 2mm in the past 4 weeks and that could just be due to the margin of error. So, looks like she will be a February baby after all, knock on wood.

Bart and I decided that we would skip the trip to visit his family at Thanksgiving. I'm relieved. I don't want to hear his mom exclaim how fat I am while lifting up my shirt - that just may require more restraint than I possess. Now I have to figure out how to get out of Christmas... think, think, think.....

Well, that's all for now folks.

Camille

Pot Roast in the Garbage Disposal

Oi vey. Bart was trying to do a good thing in disposing of the month old pot roast. He did not know that garbage disposals hate pot roast. So, much cursing ensued this morning when the finicky old garbage disposal vomited all over the cabinet under the sink and the floor. It was a flooded mess. When I left the house this morning it smelled like old meat. I can't wait to go home. Nothing like the aroma of putrid meat to greet you at the end of a long day. Now, Bart and I will have to tackle the garbage disposal to try to restore it to it's former, non-spewing self.

Fun, fun. Especially for me who can NOT bend over. Sheesh.

On another little pleasant note. If you are designated the person to pick up Krispy Kreme doughnuts for your meeting in the morning at work, do not, DO NOT, leave the leftover doughnuts on your desk for your "colleagues" to enjoy throughout the day. You will eat them all. Or you will eat as many as you can before getting dangerously close to a sugar induced coma. Just a public service announcement for you.

That is all.

Camille

My brain hurts and I want to go home...

I work a LOT. I leave the Northern Hinterlands where I live at 6:30 a.m. and drop the kids off at daycare, I then proceed on my journey to this place where I live, um I mean, work. I get here at around 7:30 a.m. then I work until 6:00 p.m., or until I am able to leave, which is sometimes even later. Then I leave here and make the return journey to the aforementioned Hinterlands. I get home around 7:15 p.m.

By the time I get home it's all I can do to slither in the house, collapse on couch or bed. (Choice of which depends upon the energy I have at my disposal as the couch is a good 20 paces closer than my bed.) I then try to be all chipper and cheery as I inquire about the kiddos days at school, the hubby's day at work. I get something to eat or eat with the family, depending on if they could starve long enought to wait for me. Then I try my damndest to enter a vegatative state until bedtime for the kids - that process beginning at 8:30 p.m.

I then try to release the tension that has settled in every muscle of my body and try to unwind enough to just fall asleep. I'd say I'm usually sleeping by 9:30 p.m. these days. Hubby's alarm goes off at 3:00 a.m.

I'm tired. I'm fat, um, I mean pregnant. I'm a little miserable. I want to take a hiatus, a sabbatical, a vacation. Heck, I could fake a good coma if I had too. Would that work?

On a bright cheery note, I finally found a bra that sort of kind of meets my pregnant body's requirements. It isn't made out of concrete with steel reinforcements either which is more cheery news. My chest is probably the most disconcerting physical change of this pregnancy - it will never, ever be the same. Don't get me wrong, it had already suffered the effects of 2 breastfed babies but this 3rd pregnancy has pushed them over the edge. Really it is ridiculous. They are enormous and my nipples are just about the circumference of tennis balls. Why, I ask you, was that necessary??? I'll tell Bart to start my cosmetic surgery fund now, God knows I'll need it.

Oh the glistening, dewy joys of pregnancy! Moo.

Exhaustedly yours,
Camille

Long weekend...

I managed to stay busy this weekend. I shampooed the living room carpet to see if it would look less like a crime scene in there but alas, the stains are tougher than I gave them credit for. I started reading a book, The Blind Assassin, which is pretty cool so far. I went to both of the kids' last soccer games and I went shopping for Jake - he is growing like a weed and had nothing to wear. I also went and did some much overdue grocery shopping with Bart.

Bart and I got into a stupid argument last night all because I said something that he took in a way that I did not intend it... it went from bad to worse. I'm still licking my wounds a bit from that one. It was just his tone of voice. Sometimes it seems like how a person REALLY feels seeps out when they don't realize it and it's hard to take something back once it's been said. I've said some things in the past to Bart that I wish I could take back but he'll never forget them. I guess it was his tone last night that forged it into my brain. I'm having a harder time shaking this off than I usually do.

I love Bart and my feelings were hurt.

Ok, I'm moving on now.

On an even UNHAPPIER note, I am beginning to get cellulite on my hips! OH MY GOD! PLEASE tell me it goes away when I get un-fat.... Oh I was so NOT prepared for this. Ick, yuck, blech, arrrghh.

Sigh.

Camille

And so it begins...

the dark season, that is. I always become varying phases of a train wreck during the fall and winter months because it is dark in the morning when I leave for work and it's dark in the evening when I leave the office to come home. It makes me so sad. I feel like I roll my kids out of bed in the morning and get home in time to kiss them goodnight. I fall apart every year during this time and spend the rest of the year trying to paste myself back together. Well, that's all I wanted to say today. I have to leave now - in the dark - to drive home, an hour long drive. Sigh. Choke. Sniff.

Camille

Awful...

I confessed to my addiction to reading blogs - I, in particular, have developed an affection for a group of ladies that have battled with infertility in varying forms. I have learned SO much from their openness and candor.

Today, on one of the blogs I read regularly, http://zia.blogs.com/wastedbirthcontrol/, there was some very, very tragic news.

Please pray for Cecily and her husband Charlie as they go through a horrible time.

Camille

Stacia

In response to Stacia's last post....

Dearest Stacia - You are my oldest and most loved friend - you never need fear excommunication. I adore you for many reasons, one of which is your unbridled honesty. I would never want for less from you. Not only that, but I value your opinion. 16 years of friendship prove that I don't always take your opinion as my own, but I value it none the less. Thanks for always being just exactly who you are supposed to be... you.

Miss you,
Camille

Growl

Blogger ate my post again. You know the drill. This one will be short because of my frustration. Beth, I'm glad you always read my blog, I can't ever respond to you directly because there is no email address given for you and Blogger also doesn't allow me to see if you have a blog. If you do, let me know, turnabout is fair play, after all, and I should read your blog since you read mine. I'm glad that I've gotten positive reactions on the baby's name. It's different but I think it has an air of sophistication about it that isn't really "saint"-ish. Anyways, I'm 22 weeks today. Next week I will be 6 months and that is a very, very good thing. I registered this past weekend which was fun but exhausting. I also bought little 'Cesca some cute clothes (which in no way makes up for the LACK of cute clothes I, personally, currently have in MY wardrobe).

Well, TTFN... (Oh come on, you all know SOME Winnie the Pooh don't you??)

Camille

Francesca Claire

She has a name! I am increasingly excited and nervous. I don't know how good this whole short cervix thing is. I'm just more and more concerned about it. I am down to having 3-4 contractions a day but we're not talking about your garden variety BH contractions - we're talking about OMG, must-breathe-now, it will be over soon kind of contractions. I'm worried they are being VERY effective. I want her so badly. I just have to cook her at least 12 more weeks.

Thanks for the congratulations on our anniversary. We went to Houston for an airshow and went to Johnson Space Center. Since I've spent the last couple of years dragging Bart around San Antonio shopping, I figured I'd be a sport and do "guy" stuff this year. Of course, it was a modified version because I could only take so much of the Houston heat and humidity and needed to be babied quite a bit. It was nice anyway in spite of the concrete slab the hotel was trying to pass off as a bed. The point is, we went away and enjoyed each other's company.

Well, now I need to wrap up for the day.

Camille

3 years ago today...

I married the man of my dreams. It was a tough time but he put on a new suit, I put on my gown, and we went, just me and him, to our little church office and stood there and took our vows, pledged our lives. I glowed. Literally glowed. To this day, he is the only man that has ever made me glow. We've been through hard, Hard, HARD, H.A.R.D. times but we have emerged intact and in love. I adore this man. He still is the man of my dreams. He still makes me weak. He still makes me giddy. He is the only man that knows the stubborn me and the soft underbelly of me and he loves me. Here's to another year Bart. Here's to eternity. Cheers, my love. You're my everything.

Camille

P.S. This is what Bart sent me last year... I read it at least once a month - you'll see why...


hey girl,
do you remember what it was like when you and i got married? we both lost
our jobs and we were broke. our bills piled up and we got behind on them. i
worked at (job mentioned) for 14 hours a day and didn't get paid for it. i was so
scared. then, i worked at (another job mentioned) making $9 an hour. you had to go to your
new job and work 10 hours a day. it was like whoever we were as individuals
was torn away in one swoop and we had to come together as one person to make
it through. my ego had to take a nose dive before you and i could do
anything together. working at (previously mentioned jobs) certainly took care
of that. then, i got fat. i had to figure out, with your help, that maybe
there was more to me than i thought there was before. i was a nice, loving
person. i could care about other people. i could be depended on. i could
make it through a tough situation with the use of common sense and planning
and not just on luck. i have learned to trust you more than i have ever
trusted anyone in my life. i am learning more and more everyday that there
is no ME anymore, it is US. you have helped me become a productive,
dependable, and good person.
we have come a long way since october 14, 2001. we have still, a long way to
go. i don't love money, i love you, jake and morgan. no matter how
prosperous we get, i always want to remember that. you guys are the reason i
study all night long. i want you to be able to stay home with the kids so
badly. i kind of close my mental eyes on what the odds are of me being paid
a six-figure income in the next 5 years. i just chug along like the little
engine that could and keep my hopes up.
you and i are still babies when it comes to this marriage thing. i do think
that we have our priorities straight though. i have seen couples who care
more about possessions, dirt biking, drinking, and various other things than
they do about each other. they would deny that they are like that, but if
you took away those things that they think are so important like their boat,
dirt bikes, drinking, etc, they would not know what to do with each other.
you and i could probably just rub on each other all day long and talk. we
are each other's entertainment.
i still love you so much. i love you more than i did 2 years ago. i love
your beautiful smile, your wonderful laugh, the way you wear my t-shirts,
the way your skin smells, your little perfect ears, your beautiful
earth-colored eyes, your big beautiful feet, and the way you pucker your
lips when you are looking in the mirror. you are so incredible that i cannot
fully describe you to anyone. you are my jewel.

hubby

She looked beautiful...

Our baby girl looked beautiful on that ultrasound screen. She was sucking her thumb with vigor and she looked perfect to me and her daddy.

Now I have to keep her in there long enough. Turns out all these contractions HAVE been doing something and my cervix is significantly shortened. I have to start on Terbutaline to stop the contractions.

Now I just pray. I want everything to be alright. I try not to show that I am scared.

Mom reminded me that the Bible says, "Be anxious for nothing but in all things give thanks." That's what I'm holding on to. Thank you for this baby girl. Thank you for this hope. Thank you for seeing me through. Thank you for knowing that losing her WOULD be too much for me to handle, for Bart to handle. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Keep her in there and just as my prayer has always been for my 2 beautiful children before this one, I now include her, keep my babies safe and healthy. Amen.

Camille

Funk

That's what I was officially in on Sunday. A big, fat, ugly, gray, cloudy, grizzly bear funk. Poor Bart. He took all he could before snapping at bedtime. Think my crabbiness finally broke him. Sorry about all that Bart. I couldn't shake it. I was snappy and bitter all day long. I was upset about the house being a mess, about ex #1 griping at my daughter until she was in hysterics, about keeping ex #2's dog, about soccer in the rain, about getting so freaking big, about money, about work, and about the stress of starting over with this sweet baby, which I will love completely, already do, but that will cause all of the aforementioned stressors to be accompanied with lack of sleep and further frayed nerves. Sigh.

I'm a tad overwhelmed.

Anyway, sorry Bart.

Camille

Damn, Damn, Damn

Had a nice long really insightful post - freaking Blogger ate it. Grrrr....

That's all I can muster now.

I'll try to recapture the moment later. Geez.

Camille

Still Me

Yesterday when I left work and began my hour long commute home, I opened the sunroof on my car and turned my music up nice and loud. I felt the cool breeze through my hair and breathed in the fresh air and I felt alive. I smiled. I felt like me. I'm still in there. That's good news. I thought I was lost underneath these gigantic breasts that are so completely foreign to me, under this belly that has a wiggly thing in it, under the thighs and backside that are making sure I stay in proportion, under all the nausea, under all the emotional ripping from this new dilemma with my husband's "madonna complex", under all the raging hormones... but you know what??.... I'm still in there. Oh thank you God. I was worried. I know I'll climb out of this in time and now I know, I'll be me.

Camille

In which nothing much occurs...

..except for the baby having hiccups today. Weird feeling to have something living and hiccup-ing inside of you. Other than that... um... nothing.

The other day Bart and I were reminiscing and I recalled that when I was in high school I had a penchant for hitting boys in the stomach... hard. Why is that? I thought it was funny. They never really complained either (stupid machismo) and they still bought me shoes and brought me lunch that they had their mommies pack extra for me. Um... that's just WRONG. I never really thought about it before. I will warn my son against girls that hit boys in the stomach and still expect for him to buy them stuff. I will warn my daughter not to hit boys in their tummies.

As horrible as all that sounds. I was a nice person. I really was. I will redeem myself in a future post, for now, think I'm as horrible as that sounds. I don't know what I was thinking. I think I just hated them but wanted their attention anyways. Hormones are a horrible, terrible, awful thing when you're 13 and 14.

I don't hit any boys now and I don't expect them to buy me things unless I'm REALLY nice. ;o)

I've been nice lately right?

OK, maybe I could be a little nicer.

Signing off...

Camille

Miscellaneous Ramblings...

Have I ever talked about all the blogs I read every day? It all started with www.alittlepregnant.com - I read that everyday - then I started reading all of her the blogs she lists on her website. My favorites being Tertia's http://tertia.typepad.com/so_close/ , http://chezmiscarriage.blogs.com/ , http://uncommonmisconception.typepad.com/ , and http://julia.typepad.com/julia/ . I really enjoy a lot of the blogs listed in her Blogs aplenty list as well.

So, if you haven't checked them out, go ahead and do that, but come back here when you're done.

I'm really in crisis mode about s.e.x. in my marriage. SERIOUSLY. I need it, I figure he needs it, but it's just not happening. I am actually mourning about this. I DON'T LIKE IT. More, I don't like what it could lead to. Are we going to turn into THAT couple? Makes me water up just thinking about that possibility. I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THAT. Let me clarify, sure I could if he were mangled and couldn't, sure I could if for some reason I lost my necessary parts, but barring that, well, it's just too important not to do. So, how does a puffy, big-bellied, not-as-attractive-as-I-wish-I-was woman try to seduce her husband who is just not feeling it? Waaaaaaaaahh.

I love this baby but I hate this body and what it's doing to me.

On a more positive note, I really am excited about the upcoming ultrasound on the 13th. I hope the baby is cooperative and will give us a good look see so we know how to start shopping. I can't wait to buy some cute baby stuff.

I have to get some work done before they figure out that I'm addicted to all things blog and take it away from me. Bastards.

Squnches,
Camille

Still gagging and other pleasantries....

WHAT is going on?? Why am I now 5 months pregnant and still gagging, fighting nearly every morning to keep from puking. I'm so TIRED of that. It will be so nice to eat and drink whatever I want, to not have to rate it on the nauseous scale first.

I got one of those snoogle pillows or whatever they're called. They're enormous pillows for pregnant women that are curved and long and you can put them in whatever position you want. I decided I love mine. I make it into a big circle and sit in the middle of it - kind of like a nest and at night I just get all entertwined up in it. It's the most comfortable I've been in a while so that's a good thing.

I'm completely self conscious lately about Bart and my lack of 'intimacy', if you know what I mean. I HATE IT. I like being with him, it's fun and good and well, it's normal to need that. I can't blame him that he doesn't see me in the same way now. Duh, I can look in the mirror. I am just really struggling with this. I respect the way he feels about it but at the same time, I want him to still want me. To clarify, he hasn't ever said anything about the way I look, just the general concerns of me being pregnant plus his feeling that I'm kind of sacred, in a way, right now, and I love that about him. But, I can't help but think that there's more to it than that - not that I wouldn't understand - I don't look good - I look round and big. I'm NOT used to this. I DON'T like it.

Did I mention I'm ready for February?

Camille
Camille

Completely Useless

I've never been much of a housekeeper. Under the close supervision (read: control) of one of my ex's I did manage to keep a sort of clean place, but it was never clean enough for him. Well, now being pregnant has rendered me completely useless. I honestly feel like a really bad wife and a really bad mother lately. I don't cook. I don't clean. I don't look good. I don't 'satisfy' my husband. I don't do anything anymore except get bigger and bigger. Of course I work 10 hours every weekday and commute 2 hours every weekday too. So, I do contribute, just not in the ways I consider important. Sigh. I am not fond of this version of me. Come on February.

Camille