tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10303300554109755932024-03-18T20:48:10.545-07:00The Roth FamilyJessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-40740120871168637542013-05-31T11:03:00.004-07:002013-05-31T11:06:47.199-07:00Xylophagia<br />
<div style="font-family: Calibri;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">D</span></b><span style="font-size: x-small;">ear Karyanna,</span></span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">In case I ever forget to tell you, you LOVE paper. More specifically you love to eat paper. It doesn't matter what is going on, if I (or anyone) gives you a piece of paper you go absolutely bonkers. So excited, so excited. You flap your arms and bounce up and down.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">You are also really good at finding paper. I feel like I clean up wrappers, mail and receipts all the time but somehow you manage to find more and put it in your mouth. Your'e really good at getting things in your mouth before I can get to you.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Another thing you are particularly attracted to is cat food. I know you'll grow out of all of this. And as much as you keep me moving, I think it's the cutest thing. I come around a corner and you purse your lips, like maybe I won't know you just put a crunchy piece of kibble in there. When I reach down to grab it out your tighten your lips even more. It's so damn cute!</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I love you!</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">SSBBLP,</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Mommy</span></span></span></div>
Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-88545946298292656192013-05-11T01:31:00.000-07:002013-05-11T01:31:28.973-07:00My Baby Sister<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>T</b></span>oday is the day and I can't sleep.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>My baby sister gets married</i> in approximately 10 hours. </span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can hardly believe it! It seems like just yesterday we were hiding out in the dog house, biding our time before we could go back inside the house; climbing trees, riding bikes and wearing each other's clothes; laughing at how amazingly we are connected that she could draw a circle and I knew she meant "complete." </span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She's the last of the<b> 'Phillips Girls'</b> to change her name. I can't imagine how bittersweet that must be for my parents.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I remember growing up the frustration she felt because it seemed like none of the guys liked her. Truth is, none of the guys could handle her. Jenn is her own force of nature. They only thing that could equal that is another force of nature. Ever since I heard the lyrics "...that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano" I knew that was the perfect way to describe Dave and Jenn. <i> Equally powerful.</i> She needed someone that could challenge her; expand the way she saw the world. David is <b>exactly that</b> for her.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am so excited to watch them grow as a couple. There is something indescribable that happens once you say those vows. I hope they feel it. It's so<i> powerful and binding</i>. But if there's one thing they have, it's that they never give up on each other. They are always there, always fighting for the other, always figuring out the best way for <b>THEM</b>. I think if more couples were to have that much perseverance in their relationship, we'd see a lot more happiness!</span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Welcome to the family (officially) Dave! I'm thrilled to have you for a brother-in-law. I know you'll take great care of my sister. You bring to this family such tenacity and steadfastness. I'm glad Jenn picked you (and vice-versa!) </span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love you Benny, fer-fer, Boo-Boo, Tuffy, Merriweather, Flounder, Jenny-Rose, Jammin' Jennifer!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6HU8wG8UD6NB-g8US7YGixtLVos0RY1PZlT0pQxNJszKbqAOWxW1DlWqOSWiNSF1_MxDiutM92pr1onOJUfq4DGV2rU4xfYUJXbgnBP0qKHnsSvDqKn8thTH2hcH98XYm8Q9MymaRKeq/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6HU8wG8UD6NB-g8US7YGixtLVos0RY1PZlT0pQxNJszKbqAOWxW1DlWqOSWiNSF1_MxDiutM92pr1onOJUfq4DGV2rU4xfYUJXbgnBP0qKHnsSvDqKn8thTH2hcH98XYm8Q9MymaRKeq/s400/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<br />Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com1Las Vegas, NV, USA36.114646 -115.1728160000000135.704873 -115.81826300000002 36.524419 -114.52736900000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-17227773937112160052013-03-09T12:41:00.001-08:002013-03-09T12:41:27.236-08:00Support<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihtDh0EJWv9B-HSqDCv5BYp5KyBPifKTNRSXt3noACBbKC7VmPGHfOeCIMBo8x3jnjNCBSqD_OFySZePKqhW_60f6mFp4HMJ3iFVDQjrZqrqlghFhtj3z_VoP9Vrunrci-MDlgeG4_fYtO/s1600/Mar+9,+2013+12:18:56+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihtDh0EJWv9B-HSqDCv5BYp5KyBPifKTNRSXt3noACBbKC7VmPGHfOeCIMBo8x3jnjNCBSqD_OFySZePKqhW_60f6mFp4HMJ3iFVDQjrZqrqlghFhtj3z_VoP9Vrunrci-MDlgeG4_fYtO/s400/Mar+9,+2013+12:18:56+PM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Note: This awesome card was from my dear friend Jordana from something totally unrelated</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>W</b></span>ow! I am speechless from the incredible amounts of support, well wishes and stories from others. Everyone has been <i>so sweet</i> and it has made me even more grateful for the wonderful people I have in my life!</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I had no idea how prevalent this whole <a href="http://nickandjessicaroth.blogspot.com/2013/03/wake-up-call.html" target="_blank">high cholesterol</a> thing was in my age group! Yes yes, I know I'm not a kid anymore, but I'm still in my <u>twenties</u>. You'd think we'd all be healthier. It just goes to show how <i>vigilant </i>we all must be when it comes to our health.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Changes so far have gone great. Mid week I had a coffee shop meet up and left STARVING and I was still 30 minutes from home with a baby who needed to be changed, fed and put down for a nap, so my rationale was that I was an hour, at minimum, from eating. It makes sense and would be so <b>convenient</b> to run through McDonald's and grab some "chicky noogies" or a cheeseburger. I literally had to<i> talk myself out of it</i> three times...boy old habits are hard. to. break. But I did it, and I went home and made myself a delicious and far more satisfying (and healthy) lunch.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Thank you for all your great support, I'm sure I'll be keeping you up to date.</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-69675973948186049422013-03-05T09:42:00.003-08:002013-03-05T09:42:54.411-08:00Wake Up Call<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I</b></span> can't even...I don't know where to start.</span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I decided to go in for a yearly physical. I thought since I'm working on loosing weight and I have some big goals, I should go in and get a baseline, or <i>starting point</i> if you will. It's no secret I need to loose weight. I've been working on it. Before I got pregnant I had lost 20 lbs. Awesome. I'm officially down 30 lbs from summer 2011, but <i>I've got quite a ways to go.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I got a call from my doctor's office yesterday. I have moderately high <b><u>cholesterol</u></b>. Wait, what? No I don't! My blood pressure is amazing, how can I have high cholesterol?!? I could go out and run a couple miles right now if I wanted to, how can I have high cholesterol?!? I don't smoke, how can I have high cholesterol?!?</span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <b><i> I have a shitty diet, that's how.</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It hit me with a ton of bricks. Not at first, but as I started doing research and seeing exactly where I'm at on the scale of things and what I need to do to get better. <i>Yikes!</i> I'd never paid attention to cholesterol info before. I never thought it would affect me. Type 2 Diabetes? Sure, I love sugar. It wouldn't be a good thing, but I would've been mentally prepared to hear that. But cholesterol? Really?</span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Now, thanks to dead beat dads I only know 1/4 of my family health history (side note: I prefer it that way because my dad is the best and I wouldn't trade him for anything!) so I don't know if I'm pre-disposed to having high cholesterol or not. But, like I said before, I generally eat like crap. That changes now!</span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <u>It scared the crap out of me</u>, more than anything else, to think I could literally have a heart attack at any moment and<i> leave Karyanna without a mommy</i>...or she would grow up calling someone else mommy. Still brings tears to my eyes to even consider. And then it spiraled when I thought of the what if's...like what if I hadn't decided to go get everything checked out? I wouldn't have know. It would have gotten worse.</span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I guess wake up calls happen for a reason. Well this chick is <b>wo-ken-up</b>! Fast food? Done. Pizza? Done. Casseroles? Done. I know I will feel so great making these changes, but now I have to learn so much. Reading labels now goes from just looking at caloric content, but fat and cholesterol too. I firmly believe in <i>moderation,</i> but this stuff has to be out until I'm in a normal range again.</span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Any helpful, kind feedback is appreciated. Does anyone else have experience with this?</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-89318759755551734262013-02-20T16:29:00.002-08:002013-02-20T16:29:46.379-08:00A Rough Night<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">O</span></b>h man, last night was a doozy!</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I went to bed around 11 pm as usual, didn't get to sleep until 12:30 am-ish as usual, Karyanna woke up around 4 as usual. But not-as-usual, she didn't want to go back to sleep. Also not-as-usual, she could hardly nurse. Every time she got going she'd choke because she could breathe because she has a stuffed up nose. But her not sleeping had nothing to do with her being sick, or at least I assume so.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Also very not-as-usual, <u>she wouldn't look at me</u>. I feel like, if you've seen Snuffy around me, you wouldn't believe that, because aside from the comments of how pretty she is, the second (or third) most common comment I get is how much she focuses on just me. It's always warmed my heart, but I assure people <b><i>she really is a Daddy's Girl</i></b>. </span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It scared me though. The child literally would not look at me. I'd move her, I'd move me, I'd make noises (good and bad) and the most I'd get was a millisecond glance. So great, not only is my child not eating, she also won't look at me. </span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I started to worry. "Oh no, is this her weaning? Is she becoming a teenager already? Did I do something that offends a 5-month-old? Is she done nursing for good." (<i>Calm down mama, breath, she's sick, that's all.) </i></span><br />
<i><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i> </i>An hour had gone by, at this point I could barely keep my eyes open and she was playing, as well as not looking at me...or eating, so I moved positions and had us perpendicular on the bed. [Don't worry, it didn't bother Nick, because he's sick as well, he was snoozing on the couch.] I gave up when that didn't change anything and let myself nod off and figure she'll play until she's ready to sleep or nurse. I couldn't have been out for ten minutes when a thud and <b>bloody-murder-screaming-baby</b> woke me up.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Panic. Adrenaline. Snuggles. Nursing. Puking. That all happened within <i>thirty seconds</i>. Naturally then I was scared she had a bad concussion. (Isn't puking a sign of concussion?) Still the child wouldn't look at me, so I called Nick in and as soon as she was in his arms <b>BAM!</b> the little stinker looks right over at me!</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Awesome. We assess that she is, in fact probably okay. She won't really nurse, or look at me again, so I give up and move to the couch. I'm fighting my hardest to hold back the tears and Nick takes her and <b>BAM!</b> she's staring at me again...even cracks a smile. Cue the most relieved sob-fest I've ever had! The whole time he was holding her she was looking and smiling at me. My baby really IS okay!</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After about a half hour we move back to the bed. It's just after 6 am and Nick should be getting up soon. We crawl in, she nurses great and we both sleep for three hours. I'm still tired now, but she's just wanted to snuggle all day and whenever I lay her down (except for naps) she starts crying...I'm alright with that though, because after last night, <i>I kinda need the snuggles too!</i></span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-69715409159733379122013-02-07T23:45:00.000-08:002013-02-07T23:45:12.100-08:00A Letter to My Daughter<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To my dearest Karyanna,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love you. I can't think of any other way to put it. I watch you sleep every night and I thank God that I get the privilege of being your mommy. I am absolutely in awe of you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are so beautiful, so fragile, and completely the center of my world right now. I'm sure that as you get older we'll have our arguments; you wil frustrate me and I will annoy you, but for now we are us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We literally spend all day everyday together. When it's time for you to go to sleep we are both ready for it, but after its been a couple hours, I'm ready to swoop you up and crawl into bed. Sometimes it's hard not to wake you up if you're taking a long nap, because I just miss you! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Being your mother is truly my greatest accomplishment ever. I feel fiercely protective over you. I'm sorry if that gets in the way of things later. Hopefully, when you have children of your own you will be able to understand. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want you to know you will never be too old for a hug or a kiss from me (or from your dad!) there is not a thing you could do that can stop the love I have for your in my heart. Nothing can replace you, nothing can weaken how I feel. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love watching your little mind work and grow and gain new comprehension everyday. You have the happiest, most loving little personality. And you are SO beautiful! Everywhere I go people stop me to look at you. My darling you were designed to stand out. I pray that you use that magnetism to love on people and make lives better. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are my little sun. Thank you for coming into my life. I love you!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Mi propia vida</i></span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-25868782625467746172013-01-22T16:47:00.000-08:002013-01-22T16:47:20.772-08:00It's the Little Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOG16f5X-ny2iMojjmtodrIb-UxQkPQKAa9AYsbZc1V1KaivqMAqkD5A471KkOlMzPnwFpuHl7QdeVZPH0fPQwOg_LLa8AGaOjjiu2K0BBZ7TMjMg7PoU8pS2bvkt1d__6CN5Cfwhe_HP/s1600/fun+fun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOG16f5X-ny2iMojjmtodrIb-UxQkPQKAa9AYsbZc1V1KaivqMAqkD5A471KkOlMzPnwFpuHl7QdeVZPH0fPQwOg_LLa8AGaOjjiu2K0BBZ7TMjMg7PoU8pS2bvkt1d__6CN5Cfwhe_HP/s320/fun+fun.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>H</b></span>aving a baby changes you. There's no question about it.</span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I've been reminiscing a lot about our life before Karyanna stormed in. We were happy, carefree, irresponsible and perhaps a bit reckless at times. We spent almost <b>nine years just the two of us</b>. </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I remember being convinced we were ready for kids seven years ago. The picture to the right was taken almost four years ago.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We stayed up too late,</span><strike style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> got up too early </strike><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">slept in way too late and ate entirely <i>too much</i>!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Our life is drastically different. We <u>still</u> stay up too late, but we do get up early. Our diet is <strike>awesome</strike> getting better and better everyday. We've become incredibly routine in our day and our biggest form of entertainment lies in watching Snuffy <i>almost</i> roll over. </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> And you know what? I'm one-hundred percent <b><i>happier</i></b> than I used to be. Having sweet girl around though, means little to no alone time for Nick and I. We haven't had many opportunities to connect on a real friendship level like before. Which is fine, we're both so wrapped up in our little sweetie that we haven't felt we needed it. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGLjWV3dHkaGoM4eMlIu72w4ZBKVo2ONJLrMu4ilR1-98MHF1O7yVeBeBJRqNLQWoHTuBiwiIRwp-n2Qk7_iVjCVB84f-F9UnwbbfwlOp-6So3pHNTwWasWmTGG1dT19rEF-M6dj1b3758/s1600/family+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGLjWV3dHkaGoM4eMlIu72w4ZBKVo2ONJLrMu4ilR1-98MHF1O7yVeBeBJRqNLQWoHTuBiwiIRwp-n2Qk7_iVjCVB84f-F9UnwbbfwlOp-6So3pHNTwWasWmTGG1dT19rEF-M6dj1b3758/s320/family+photo.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But last night we took some extra time for one another. It wasn't until this morning that I realized how much <i><u>I had missed him</u></i>. I almost went to bed, and I'm so glad I didn't. We simply chit-chatted while he was doing dinner prep for tonight, but we reconnected. I remembered just exactly why he is my<i> best friend</i>.</span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He's funny, caring and smart and I am <i>so lucky</i> to have married such an incredible man. I really hope nights like that happen more often, because as awesome as my daughter is, my husband is still my <u>favorite person</u> in the world!</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-48092008407506480962013-01-03T12:25:00.001-08:002013-01-03T12:25:45.997-08:00Is it too late???<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3ququVzcPci8DcninVgFp5-yuHpBlAHSO6rdrGZIOvmRyCwxjIIeCdX9Yr6juvuOkc8X2d-e9vCqQxoG34GxdIZR9IJFvWnWxvhoBqiOXOgiiRReTOmFgFgUfsrFNVXFDuDYb3iC0uid/s1600/Is+it+too+late.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3ququVzcPci8DcninVgFp5-yuHpBlAHSO6rdrGZIOvmRyCwxjIIeCdX9Yr6juvuOkc8X2d-e9vCqQxoG34GxdIZR9IJFvWnWxvhoBqiOXOgiiRReTOmFgFgUfsrFNVXFDuDYb3iC0uid/s400/Is+it+too+late.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I</b></span>s it too late to be good? As the beauty of this picture shows, "No, it is never too late to be good." Karyanna and I had quite the last couple of days...</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Really it started last Friday. She's either teething, or catching a cold, or growing, or <i>something</i> because she has been whiny, snuggly, sleepy and as far as she goes grumpy. But a weekend of snuggles is not so bad really. She rallied and was able to go out for New Year's Eve, but the day after was super fussy again.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then it happened...</span></i><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> My good friend Sarah was visiting (she lives in Hawaii) and we went into <b>Portland</b> to get some delicious Stumptown Coffee. It was really crowded so Nick stood in line while we went and grabbed a table. We had been out of the house for awhile and it was time for Snuffy to eat. I went to grab my "Hooter-Hider" and instead pulled out an apron. <u>Lovely</u>. I knew both items were in there this morning and I grabbed one of them out in an attempt to lighten the load. As they are similar prints and the same colors I apparently took out the HH. (Side note: don't judge me for having an apron in my diaper bag.<i> It was legit</i> there because I had picked it up <strike>the night before</strike> a couple days earlier at my mom's house after leaving it there <u>a month ago</u>.) I do what I can, got creative and made it work.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> She ate like a champ, had a small burp and was sitting there having a great time. As Nick sits down with us and hands me my coffee she<i> pukes</i>. Now, this wasn't a tiny little upchuck, this was full on completely drenching her shirt, the<b> entire front of my shir</b>t and some of the apron. <b><i>She never does that</i></b>! Afterwards she was all smiles and wobbles, but man, I've never seen so much come out of a little baby before. I handled it quite well and was super glad she had not one but two outfits in her diaper bag for me to choose from. We went out to the car, changed her clothes (which, after I pulled her onesie off <i>I found a cockroach like bug</i> in it, super scary to think it may have been<b> ON HER!</b>) and went back inside. </span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We sat there for close to an hour chit-chatting and having a good time. Just as we were getting ready to leave she poops. NBD right? Oh no, this was a blowout. <b><i>Are you kidding me?!?</i></b> Welp ok, good thing we were planning on leaving anyway. So we go back out to the car and change, again, this time even more thankful I had two extra outfits in her diaper bag. But I used the <i>last</i> of the "diaper bag wipes." </span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Fast forward to the next day and she was hanging out in diapers all day. With the new year I decided to switch to Fuzzibunz (cloth diapers) and we tried it out yesterday. Well, the infant setting was too big for her so I tightened another one down. That ended up being too tight and she woke up because her legs were loosing circulation (<i>awesome mommy award for me</i>!) I switched her back to her Hawaiian Huggies (my favorite disposables because their so cute!) and she poops. I go to change her and we have no wipes at home either. Mental note, go to the store tonight. Somehow I found in our box of baby samples <b>one wipe left</b>. That will hafta do until daddy gets home!</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Right before Nick comes home, I like to get her dressed and "presentable." I've read about cleaning kids faces and meeting their dad at the door. I liked it,<i> it works for us</i>. He could tell the day had been bad. Karyanna looked grumpy and tired and<i> I hadn't done anything</i> with my hair or put on any makeup and got maybe half the things on my list accomplished (two of which were wake up and have some cocoa.) So he graciously took over and made dinner while I snuggled Snuffy on the couch...and then <u>she poops again</u>. And not just poop, but blowout poop.<b> TWO DAYS IN A ROW! </b>I can't tell if I'm glad I got her dressed or not. It means more laundry, but it also means I didn't get baby poop up my arm, on my clothes and possibly on the couch as well. I'm leaning towards a win for getting dressed! </span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Mind you, I ran out of wipes earlier. She hasn't pooped two days in a row for over 6 weeks, let alone <i>twice in one day.</i> Not even baby sharts (since her pediatrician used that word, it is a medical term in my book.) Being the quick thinker I am, I grab a wash cloth and run it under warm water before tackling the mess. This was seriously the <u>worst blowout</u> she's had too. It ended up over halfway up her back, her foot got in it and she just smiled the whole time.</span><br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> After that I put her in the above shirt and like always, she makes up for her indiscretions by being the most loving, smiley and happy baby on earth! I count those as some of the bad days of being a mommy. But really, looking back, it wasn't that bad at all. I'm so thankful I get to love on this girl daily and I hope she grows up knowing that no matter what she does,<i> <u>it's never too late to be good!</u></i></span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-38625691265816331672012-12-21T15:45:00.001-08:002012-12-21T15:45:22.482-08:00The New Normal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOXZpfNWjA5qLS_3r-2yIL-ktojvaNQwB3iYv6Gn2hnPIVqlCO5TALpIb1eEJC05wh0Z7y03nd4ZXhb6jZiFPd11p8sGm556sPCCZbtzrZRxKOFXVp650LpGvF2r4wXhNBlcghFw4nwn9/s1600/nick+two.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmOXZpfNWjA5qLS_3r-2yIL-ktojvaNQwB3iYv6Gn2hnPIVqlCO5TALpIb1eEJC05wh0Z7y03nd4ZXhb6jZiFPd11p8sGm556sPCCZbtzrZRxKOFXVp650LpGvF2r4wXhNBlcghFw4nwn9/s320/nick+two.jpg.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">L</span></b>ife has just kept on going by. We're right in the middle of Karyanna's first holidays and we are absolutely LOVING it! Because of Nick's new job, he had a 2 week training in Phoenix and thankfully, me and the girl got to go with. Everyone who was there fell in love with her. I've never had so many strangers take her picture and hold her. But it was a really nice group, we even let them watch her while we stole away for a yogurt date!</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It was right in the middle of December so we basically have missed all the hustle and bustle that comes with Christmas time. I'm super ok with that. Although, it means we are completely booked up now through New Year's and presents are small this year, they had to fit in the suit cases :-)</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Karyanna is a whopping 3 months old now and is the biggest joy! She's starting to get the personality of a happy caterpillar, as opposed to a slouchy blob. She smiles all the time and is starting to cut her first tooth. I wasn't expecting this as my teeth came in exceptionally late, but I assume she is just going to exceed my expectations in everything. I'm pretty sure she's going to be sitting on her own real soon as well.</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We're starting to get ourselves out of the house too (aside from major trips, lol) and now attend storytime at the library once or twice a week. While in Phoenix we went to a mommy and me group and made some new friends. It was really fun getting together with other mom's in basically the same stage, so I'm trying to find some groups out here. Everything I've found so far is pretty irregular so I might just hafta start something weekly myself!</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Balance in our lives is slowly coming along. It's still not great, but I've had some incredible phone support and I'm working on not being too hard on myself. I've got big plans for the next couple months of things I would like to try...we'll see how that goes.</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Anyway, Nick's flight is about here. Time to clean up my area and greet him at the gate! (This never happens anymore!!!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!</b></span></div>
Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-64336541053061564362012-11-05T10:41:00.001-08:002012-11-05T10:41:26.490-08:00Mommyhood<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjNZ-cjrcoahZnTOb-KpQS1pkS79TixAWOjZkKkmbK1o9BTOGdTG-cuxkuibMrv1qwzwc0n2fstXgGC_qDeKM4doXDU8fSFqNRA9PQ3C5vGMm1D-Ckvsz2Rk0gh0lmuKAEu-W9yDgy7EGf/s1600/DSCN0556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjNZ-cjrcoahZnTOb-KpQS1pkS79TixAWOjZkKkmbK1o9BTOGdTG-cuxkuibMrv1qwzwc0n2fstXgGC_qDeKM4doXDU8fSFqNRA9PQ3C5vGMm1D-Ckvsz2Rk0gh0lmuKAEu-W9yDgy7EGf/s320/DSCN0556.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yes, that is spit-up in front of her</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3:24 AM Through tears of my own I plead "Sweet girl, why won't you stop crying?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4:00 AM Dad picks her up and walks her around and gets her to sleep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6:30 AM After two hours of sleep she starts stirring and wakes up again, looks at me and gives me a big smile...cue the water works.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I feel like this scenario adequately describes parenthood. Perseverance, teamwork and reward. Going into it, I knew being a mommy would be different than I had expected. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I knew it would change me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I knew it would be hard. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I knew it would be rewarding. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I also knew that finding a balance would be a challenge, and let me tell you, it has been! Lucky for me, Nick is <u>super patient</u>. He's basically a saint (yes, Santa Claus music would be appropriate right now. <span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>[sorry, lame joke]</b></span>) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Before Snuffy was born, I gave myself<i> six weeks</i> postpartum to "loose myself." To not worry too much about the house, to not worry too much about what I ate and to just get used to being mom. Well, she's seven weeks old now. The house seems worse than a week ago, I definitely had chocolate dunkers <b><u>and</u></b> a giant soda last night, and my hair needs to be done but <i>my hairbrush seems to have run away</i>. But it's all okay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I love how she looks just like her daddy but with my eyes. Also like Nick, she's easy going and fairly relaxed with whatever our schedule throws at us and like me she craves constant contact; even in her sleep she'll reach a hand out to lay on my cheek or lean her head forward until she's touching my arm. And I feel like if I worried too much about the house or what I looked like at all times I'd miss these things. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Balance. I must find it, and I know I will. It <strike>may</strike> clearly will take longer than six weeks, but in the mean time, I'm going to keep enjoying my little girl. I know I'll be sad if I didn't...and I'll probably go put away some dishes while she sleeps. :-)</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-42894288289422267182012-10-29T11:19:00.001-07:002012-10-29T11:19:03.195-07:00The Birth of Karyanna<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Sm8aHNz4BQUSZ7X74qJRAtnm7S6VLmCK1M3NyLEvkM9xiyqHF60oA-WTttP3JHQEI1SPeasHftdTDvaSisT1KtC_ctfpB_PPokRpoSpOJGOfqMpfoSMcEDSRm-ugvSecrMKJe6d4tGz4/s1600/image_6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Sm8aHNz4BQUSZ7X74qJRAtnm7S6VLmCK1M3NyLEvkM9xiyqHF60oA-WTttP3JHQEI1SPeasHftdTDvaSisT1KtC_ctfpB_PPokRpoSpOJGOfqMpfoSMcEDSRm-ugvSecrMKJe6d4tGz4/s320/image_6.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> *Editors Note: The following contains elements which are graphic in nature (it is of course a birth story!) But if you hang around it's a pretty great story.</span></b><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">S</span></b><span style="font-size: x-small;">aturday the 15th I felt pretty run down and tired all day. I'd had an OB appt the day before and she thought I still would make it to my due date (9/26.) We were supposed to do dinner and a movie with friends (one last hurrah?) and I cancelled on them and we had dinner at my parents house instead. I really did not feel like getting dinner ready. I'd been <u>freezing</u> all day and both my parents didn't think it would be long. After we got home I was super cold and Nick was kinda like, "It's really warm in here, not sure what your problem is." So I took a hot shower, wrapped up and went to bed.</span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> At midnight I woke up still freezing cold but decided to take my temperature since I was just feeling awful and it was 101.8º I called in and the doctor said to take some tylenol and see how it helped and if I wasn't better by morning I would probably need to come in.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> By 1:30am it was still just over 101º and I moved out to the couch since I couldn't really get comfortable in bed. I slumped over and fell asleep. At 2:30am I startled awake and yelled "Oh no!" and jumped from our couch off the carpet and onto the hard wood floor just as my water broke in a gush! I started calling out Nick and he just kept sleeping lol! I ran to the bathroom (<i>when did I become so agile?!?</i>) sat down and banged on the adjoining wall telling him it was go time. We really weren't anticipating water breaking at home and had absolutely nothing for protection for the ride to the hospital (<b>an hour away</b>.) Then I remembered we're using Fuzzibunz diapers, grab a couple inserts! Nick got some stuff together while I showered. Decent contractions started and I was sitting on a ball while Nick was showering when gush number two hit...wow, I was not prepared for that at all! Note: <i>Fuzzibunz are NOT meant for adult consumption</i>! They did little to nothing in keeping my clothes clean.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We drove to the hospital and contractions were 5-1-1 if not closer the whole way there. I was super excited to meet our little girl, this was clearly no fake labor! On top of that, I knew my OB was on-call later in the day, so she would be there for the birth. :) We got there at approx 4am and they checked me and I was closer to 2cm than 3cm. Mentally I adjusted and was like, "ok long haul, let's do it!" I had tested positive for Strep-B so they got the IV going, but since I had fever the wanted me to stay in bed for the time being. On top of it both mine and baby's heart rates were elevated. </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Contractions kept coming steady and we were getting through them great. My doctor got there and checked me at 7:30am and I was not quite at 3cm. I was super tired and pain had started to get up into the 6 level (pain in the legs is awful!) so they gave me something through IV for the pain so I could get some rest. It kinda helped, I was at least able to get a little bit of rest. About this time my mom and sister got there. They were encouraging and were there when I needed them and left when I was done having anyone but Nick with me. Mom heard me legitimately swear for the first time ever and Michelle helped me accept that it was ok if things didn't go quite how I wanted.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It was really important to me to get up out of bed and get in that tub. The birthing team was nervous about it because baby's heart rate was dropping after each contraction, but both of our heart rates were a little concerning. They finally let me up and gave me 15 mins in the tub, and it was so great. I could've stayed there all day and been so happy! After that I was kept in the bed for the rest of the time. Definitely <b>NOT</b> how I wanted it, but I had that little Mommy check in my gut and felt things were probably more serious than they were letting on. My doctor knew how important it was to me to do it all natural and was trying her best to make that happen. </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> After we got back to the room, I would sleep for 3-4 mins, wake up with a contraction for 1 min, then go back to sleep. <u><b>Nick was REALLY awesome</b></u> during this period. I was starting to mentally get exhausted and and the pain was getting worse. At 12:30pm they checked me again and I was still only 3cm. My doctor brought up pitocin but wanted to be cautious because of Karyanna's heart rate, so they wanted to do internal monitoring to make sure there were accurate readings. It was about an hour or so before this I told Nick that if they're thinking this was headed to c-section I just wanted to get it done and not waste time. My awesome doctor wanted to stay conservative and not go there unless totally necessary. I knew with pitocin would be too much for me to handle, so I asked for an epidural and finally got an hour of sleep. It was really great. While sleeping they did some monitoring and her little heart rate kept dropping after contractions and it was decided she wouldn't be able to handle any more labor.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Very shortly we were whisked away into surgery. I had an all female team in there. <i>It felt like I was in some high-power, pro-women television show.</i> It all went really great. Nick got pictures. Once they opened me up we discovered she was face-up. Even more reason I'm glad we went c-section. They cleaned her, weighed her (8lb 2oz), Nick put the diaper on and then layed her on my chest while getting stitched up. She latched straight away and it was all so incredible. She was the most beautiful thing ever! Both our hearts have been great since. She originally lost a little too much weight and got down to 7lb 3oz, but she was already up and over 8lb 10oz by her 2 week appt.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It wasn't the birth I wanted, but I could tell that day how it was gonna go and really I have no regrets and no disappointment. Even before surgery my OB was saying on the next one we can totally still go for all natural (my brother-in-law called that job security lol) and that there was just odd circumstances with this one and that it was in no way because I gave up. The shocking thing to me is that I never felt that way. All I wanted was what was safe for Karyanna. I'm lucky because my recovery has been AMAZING!</span></div>
Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-27149493181005407272012-09-02T14:11:00.001-07:002012-09-02T14:11:12.473-07:00An Adult Like Me<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>W</b></span>hat does being an adult mean? Well, for me this morning it meant putting on a bra and changing my shirt before I went to the store. Unlike my 5-year-old niece, I know that just because both my shirt and my pants are grey, they do not in fact match. ::Sigh:: Maybe tomorrow I will wear a dress!</span></span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-51634108126228030472012-08-27T23:55:00.001-07:002012-08-27T23:55:59.561-07:00Mommy Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3MMJ4IPl9VtFXfO3xhXsTZtqgRYXqe-YRV-IvvKwJ8tZph6w8D9nck37jfNjxKZuPEUbwxj8rqLQRfW-8qdKAmkivxpdj-PwdwRSUyXLfxJC9NrnvR8I9NaSYIuXExFfq-oDkIfiD-v1/s1600/Mom+Jeans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3MMJ4IPl9VtFXfO3xhXsTZtqgRYXqe-YRV-IvvKwJ8tZph6w8D9nck37jfNjxKZuPEUbwxj8rqLQRfW-8qdKAmkivxpdj-PwdwRSUyXLfxJC9NrnvR8I9NaSYIuXExFfq-oDkIfiD-v1/s320/Mom+Jeans.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">W</span></b>hat to do? I feel kinda funny writing about this, but it's something that's been weighing on me as Karyanna's birth gets nearer. How am I going to dress after she gets here?!?</span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It seems like such a shallow and vapid thing to stress about, but regardless I sort of am. I used to (as in my early to mid-twenties) wear cute clothes and heels everyday. If the heel wasn't <i>at least three inches</i> it wasn't high enough. Then I got <strike>sorta</strike> lazy and have basically lived in yoga pants and favorite long-sleeve tees from GAP. <b>I recently read that yoga pants are the new mom jeans </b>(gasp! I wasn't even a mom yet!)</span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Beyond getting pregnant, I had been feeling for awhile like it was time to boost my wardrobe. I had acquired a couple cute dresses and some good workout clothes. I ventured into the world of color again and was saying good bye to my almost signature black (if <i>Nick</i> noticed I wore black a lot, then I must've been.) Maternity wear has actually been fun for me. I took a couple risks (as many as you really can with maternity) and I've really felt great throughout.</span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But what about after? I was in weight loss mode pre-pregnancy and I'm sure I will be again <strike>immediately</strike> very soon, but I have no clue what my body will be like after birth. I have an incredibly tight belly right now, but I'm fairly sure it will become a giant mixing bowl of jello jigglers. I know my breasts will be Out.Of.Control. And, like my sister told me, I'll be able to loose weight like a man.(<u>Hooray!</u>)</span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> But I'm still at a loss as to how to dress. I want to be contemporary, but I also don't want to be stuck in 'Mommy Wear' forever. I'd like to be able to accessorize smartly. Where does a girl go who is too old for the juniors section but still feels too young for most everything in the women's department? I guess this is just something to navigate in the world of being a mom...</span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">but when is it required to stop wearing full-panel pants? Because I love the crap out of those!</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-38217617584772420282012-07-25T06:45:00.001-07:002012-07-25T06:45:22.193-07:00Baby Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9WIyhjg-F60dq0Tt8tTbvB3MMhvbytBvDQ4mdfd6HtjgYaL0i7LENX_UqrQ8-OZnVl4OFiz5sQDnG2q79cy87U680W6J8rlilTu9QaYHoU6r9PkAMavRItmZFiCY_luzsOADeGQY-Bd5f/s1600/my+loves.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9WIyhjg-F60dq0Tt8tTbvB3MMhvbytBvDQ4mdfd6HtjgYaL0i7LENX_UqrQ8-OZnVl4OFiz5sQDnG2q79cy87U680W6J8rlilTu9QaYHoU6r9PkAMavRItmZFiCY_luzsOADeGQY-Bd5f/s400/my+loves.jpg.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>I</i></b></span>'ve been awake for a bit. Not really sure why I can't sleep, especially considering I feel like that's all I've been doing for almost a week. Anyway, not the point. Since I can't sleep I've been taking stock of things in my life and I am so excited for where this journey is taking me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I've literally been sitting here feeling this overwhelming amount of love for my daughter. When I imagine her tiny little body being placed in my arms for the first time I getting giddy/goofy and just want the day to get here faster. Oh sure I have times of feeling incredibly anxious and scared and start thinking about all the horrible things that could happen to her, but then I remember that from the very beginning, she was meant to be. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> For whatever reason I always felt like we would have a little girl first. Whenever I would write out our kids names (yes, I dreamt of them like a school girl dreams about marrying her crush,) Karyanna was always first. It wasn't until we talked about "preferences" a couple years ago that I decided I liked the idea of a 'big-brother' better so I tried switching things up, but she's always been first. I'm seriously so excited to FINALLY get to meet her!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Sometimes I feel like this precious child will never understand how excited her Daddy and I are for her, but then I realize someday she will be having kids of her own (holy crap I can't even think about that!) and then maybe she will get it. I know I sure didn't. It's funny to me how different stages of life bring forth new understanding and patience for the adults in your life. Becoming and aunt made me realize why my aunts and uncles were pushing to spend time with us and becoming parents makes me think back to all the arguments, tears and pains between me and my parents and just gives me a little understanding into why the reacted the way they did (sorry guys!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> This whole experience has brought about a new kind of love for my husband too. Though there was never any doubt, he really is going to be the best Daddy ever! I love how excited he is to teach her things, the guide her, to love her and show her how she deserves to be treated. I am so grateful for all the incredible men he's had in his life to be a shinning example. And beyond all that, he has been so patient, loving and kind to me through this pregnancy. I never knew one man could have so much understanding for something he will never experience. Anytime I'm fraught over this pain or that he reminds me why it's happening, asks if there's anything he can do to help, and then promptly does it. I just pray every single day that I can continue to deserve his love, because it is indescribably the most important thing in my life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Anyway, I'll try to keep this short, especially since my last couple posts have been quite long! We've got about nine weeks before we get to meet this awesome little girl and I just can't hardly wait!</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-29573068003178419262012-07-18T17:25:00.000-07:002012-07-18T17:25:07.461-07:00Jury Duty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh064oOc-4jfL2WU8s5DD7YrZErtaCbQDr9-X7DV34gPO8mTayhgop1_thx-vftwsQ5XXrRgOrm5q2zMrt1SusvAJ-DnG8rPUBnSLF7xFiripuI6hqB3DUoRBimiwbGpFAtKuoqtkhd81R7/s1600/jury_duty_stamp.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh064oOc-4jfL2WU8s5DD7YrZErtaCbQDr9-X7DV34gPO8mTayhgop1_thx-vftwsQ5XXrRgOrm5q2zMrt1SusvAJ-DnG8rPUBnSLF7xFiripuI6hqB3DUoRBimiwbGpFAtKuoqtkhd81R7/s320/jury_duty_stamp.jpg.jpg" width="310" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Y</span></b>esterday one of my life long dreams came true. I got to go downtown for Jury Duty. Everyone tells me I'm crazy for WANTING it and I don't know if it's all the legal drama tv shows I've watched, but it's always been something I couldn't wait for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I had to report to the room no later than 8am. Knowing from my time working downtown (6-7 years ago) I know that the 7 o'clock hour is not too great for traffic. So my plan was to leave at 6:45am and I figured if early I'd kill sometime at Starbucks or something. Well, I left at 7:10am and checked traffic on my awesome app and it looked good. And since I was beginning to get a headache I stopped and got coffee in Fairview. I knew this might be a long day and I wasn't about ready to sit in a potentially hot room with a headache and have to leave early because it turned into a migraine. I'm nothing if not thorough and an over planner.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Traffic was actually pretty good the whole way in. I had air conditioning and my iPhone plugged into the stereo. I reminded myself in freeway traffic that it is a <i>bad idea</i> to leave a ton of space between me and the person in front of me. It made me nervous to follow so close (I am a far different driver than I used to be, it was really odd!) However, I made into downtown incident free.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I also used to live downtown...physically and figuratively. I could give directions easily and had road maps memorized. Now I only go there for very special occasions and although I know my way around, I've completely forgot where the SmartParks are located and the order of the named streets (as opposed to numbered.) All I remembered is that the courthouse was on 4th Ave and there was a big blue building (Noteworthy: I actually thought the blue building was the courthouse.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I wanted to park close since I was bold and wore my business-appropriate-heels and being seven months pregnant did <b>not </b>want to walk for in them. My feet have begun to swell. I called Nick once I make it downtown and in the middle of the convo I saw the Wells Fargo Building parking and it was across the street. Yes! That's perfect! Who cares if it's more than SmartPark? I don't even know their rates anymore, the extra money is worth the comfort and convenience. Well, it's underground parking and mid sentence I lose cell coverage (no worries, I should've mentioned I was on speaker phone/being hands-free.) Whoops! <i>Small concrete jungle won this one, haha.</i> I was pleasantly surprised to see it was a $15/day max. That's not so bad! I assume SmartPark must be up to $12/day by now??? I get a great spot and head upstairs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The elevator opens up to a small lobby with no real directions to get outside, and since I wanna seem like I know what I'm doing I just start walking. I ended up making a giant loop when if I'd gone left instead of right, it would've been approx 10 feet. Whoops! I'm starting to get a bit warm at this point. I walk outside and it becomes apparent to me that I am mildly lost. I concentrate to get my barrings, see the blue building and start walking. As I get closer I see<u> it is not the courthouse</u> like I thought, panic in my brain ensues and I only have ten minutes to get there. Please tell me I didn't just come to the completely wrong place or that just maybe the courthouse was moved back to Pioneer Square due to some renovations that I've never heard of. I look a block ahead of me and see several police cars...phew! That must be the building!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Heading there I start paying attention to around me and remember that this is where Occupy Portland took place. I groan internally and the memory and think "Well, at least it looks better now." Then I look around me and see all the homeless people that have lined the streets and are sleeping. Homelessness, especially in this economy, really really tears at my heart. Being tucked away in my cocoon in Gresham I don't really encounter it anymore. I know it exists, but it's very easy for me to get wrapped up in my world. I don't know if it's this pregnant nose of mine, but this was the first time too that I've really smelled homelessness. It really broke my heart when I walked by a family with two small children snuggled up together. It even brings me to tears just writing it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I had an errant thought of "Gosh, aren't they hot though?!?" I had walked one block and was already beginning to perspire it was so muggy. But then I realized they weren't corralled together for warmth, but for safety and security. I know there's a portion of the "transient community" that choose this lifestyle, but I just don't believe that anyone would choose it for their kids. These children were my niece's and nephew's ages. I just wanted to scoop them up and take them with me. So heartbreaking.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> OK, enough with the heavy (sorry, I just still can't believe it!) Long line to get through security, I have to walk through three times before I just get wanded (my term, not theirs) and am clear to go. I walked into a room the size of a large banquet hall with office chairs lined up from wall to almost wall. It's totally like that first day of school; quick scan to see if you know anyone you can sit by, clearly you don't so you find the best seat you can that hopefully has no one next to you. Then more people file in. I was shocked at the number of late people! Like up to a good 45 minutes late. Really? I'm looking at you little miss hippy-dippy flowing shirt/skirt combo with greasy braided hair who lives just across the river. It really seems like that fits the description, or similar, to half the people who were late. I digress, a judge sans his robe steps up to the podium and greets everyone. You can tell they do their best to show Jury Duty as such a great thing. You can feel the internal eye rolls that a good 90% of the room was giving when, through microphone issues he says it is our opportunity to be a part of the judicial system, to be a part of something that makes this country great!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvuXKvTz0WITpybYzCOBahrNyykFBuaR2mOQDCrLn1qq9NMt4QmvkkPLHraqaFwpOff-oAqGrOWtrI6ZJVhsz8U4qWcQmr13ffxBVdBJgK0BR-P_oYAj-LUnRxDrZ6mIhvDTOA9kODXWB6/s1600/lion+king.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvuXKvTz0WITpybYzCOBahrNyykFBuaR2mOQDCrLn1qq9NMt4QmvkkPLHraqaFwpOff-oAqGrOWtrI6ZJVhsz8U4qWcQmr13ffxBVdBJgK0BR-P_oYAj-LUnRxDrZ6mIhvDTOA9kODXWB6/s400/lion+king.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvuXKvTz0WITpybYzCOBahrNyykFBuaR2mOQDCrLn1qq9NMt4QmvkkPLHraqaFwpOff-oAqGrOWtrI6ZJVhsz8U4qWcQmr13ffxBVdBJgK0BR-P_oYAj-LUnRxDrZ6mIhvDTOA9kODXWB6/s1600/lion+king.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I however, am buzzing in my seat. I agree with EVERYTHING this man is saying. I have dreamt of this <strike>my whole life</strike> for the last fifteen years! They show a great pro-jury duty propoganda video with a history of why we do this and what all it entails. <i>It is worth it to say that baby Karyanna is going nuts.</i> The whole time I was in the room she was almost non-stop action. She's never been that active in one day...ever! Of course it makes the experience even more exciting. The video finished up and the judge explains how Multnomah County has a courthouse in Gresham as well and that he is going to call a list of names and those people are excused for the day and are to report to the Gresham Courthouse the following morning. Everything in me wanted to volunteer, but I held my breath. Maybe my name would be called...plus it didn't sound like you could volunteer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Alas I did not get called to go to Gresham, but the people who did? Whoa! There was a general grumble of frustrations with a few of the following quotes:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> -Where the heck is Gresham?!?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> -Not Gresham!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> -This is bulls***!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">According to the judge, the Gresham courthouse is new, like brand new and really nice. But, if you're from Gresham, like myself and the two ladies behind me, you know that it is actually in Rockwood, not Gresham. It's totally different. It's practically Portland!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Back to the story. And I'll condense a little. They go through a couple times of calling out names to possibly get selected for a trial. Fingers crossed everytime. Never does my name get called. I have to move around so I walk across the room, go to the bathroom and decide I really need to get my feet up! So I sat in a gaming area, took my shoes off and put my swelling feet up. I get some side-eyes but I don't really care.<u> If I'm going to make it this must happen.</u> I'm super bored and decide to pull out my own deck of cards (so thankful they happen to be in my purse!) It is still super silent in the room. You'd think that two hours into it conversations would have struck up, but the only person talking is "that guy." You know? The guy who has an opinion on everything and likes to talk just to hear his own voice? Yes him, and all the people around him are trying desperately to get him to notice they are reading/listening to music/aren't at all interested in what he's saying.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Anyway, you know that feeling when you go to the movies and you pull out your candy and just happen to pick the <i>quietest part</i> of the movie to open it? So you do it as slowly as possible while<b> cringing at the slightest sound</b> and start to get all flushed and flustered because you're sure you're ruining the experience for everyone within 100 feet of you? Imagine that but shuffling a close to brand new deck of cards. I can't really remember ever feeling so self conscious in my life! So I put the cards in my lap thinking that may buffer the shuffling sound. (It doesn't, in case you're ever in this situation.) I end up shuffling them by hand dispersing half the deck randomly into the other half and set up to play solitaire. I don't know how, but I set it up wrong. I think I put an extra pile out. It wasn't winable so I was in the shuffling predicament again. I decided to just do it as quickly as possible, the whole time <i>praying</i> people weren't judging me on my shuffling skills. Since solitaire was actually quite boring and is a game that can quickly be over I set myself up to play kings corner against my self (two hands.) I felt like such a nerd. I tied myself. Shocking! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I realized it was fairly ridiculous and silly of me to be doing that so I cleaned up after that game. Besides it was almost lunch time and since I had an hr and a half for lunch, I became grateful that I had brought extra clothes, specifically sandals, to change into. It was announced that only one case remained and the lady in charge called a list of names of people to stay, everyone else was dismissed for the day. <b><i><u>Hooray!</u></i></b> My name was called! <i>I still have a chance. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I leave for lunch and it's not only muggier but also warmer. By the end of the almost two block hike to the parking garage I'm pretty sure about all my make up is gone and I'm super tired. I get to my car and change into jeans and sandals (I really didn't think my shorts would've been appropriate.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> While changing I realized how uncomfortable my shirt was too, so I looked it up and the Pioneer Square H&M carries maternity. Sweet! So I start walking. After a few blocks I realize that my whole perception of distance and location in Portland is way off. It is not a short distance to Pioneer Square from where I was and with every block I get <i>swampier</i>. That's really the only thing I can think of to describe it. I wasn't sweating to the point of dripping, but the moisture on my skin matched that of the moisture in the air. Swampy. Also, when I walk for long distances I get round ligament pain, primarily on my left side. So I'm basically waddling down the street, swampy and in pain, I'm sure at this point I've got raccoon eyes due to make up running and my hair looks like a frizzy, unkempt mess. It's OK if you're shaking your head at me. I'm sure it was <strike>adorable</strike> hilarious. Naturally, I enter the mall at the opposite end of the store I want with little to no relief from the heat, but at least the air is dryer. After three shirts and twenty minutes I walk out of the store with a new shirt, but decide I should probably eat and drink something and cool down in a restaurant before changing and getting my new shirt swampy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> As previously stated, my sense of anything geographically in Portland is completely gone, but I did remember that to walk the<b> thousand miles</b> back to the courthouse it is mostly uphill, and I thought of taking the bus, but I couldn't remember which street they ran on and I didn't have hardly a prayer of choosing the right one that went straight south without taking me east or west so walking was, in my opinion, my best option. I had forty minutes to get back so I decided something quick to eat would be best.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Praise the Lord! I found a Subway! And more importantly that Subway could give me unlimited amounts of delicious, iced, bubbling drinks! I scarfed down my sandwich, inhaled my soda and cooled off a little bit before going into the bathroom to change my shirt. I headed back for the courthouse and was so relieved to find that it was the coolest place I'd been inside of <u>all day</u>!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I sat around for a couple more hours, this time on a couch with my feet up. Of the fifty or so people left, about a quarter of them were napping. <u>Very dangerous</u> I thought, but I curled up with my purse tucked in my lap and let my eyes clothes, never fully getting to sleep. When I checked the time it was 2:30pm and yes! Ellen was going to be on in a half hour. I love that show. At least it will give me something to do, as my phone battery was drained to 12% (I was a facebook, pintrest, instagram and email maniac in the morning and forgot a charger.) and I was super bored. At 2:50pm they call all of us up to the fourth floor, the case we were waiting around for was actually going to trial and it was time for Jury selection. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Oh man! This is it! Notice I said fourth floor? Without thinking I followed everyone up the stairs. <b><i>Shut the front door</i></b>, I was super panting by the time we got to the top. Luckily I still beat like ten people to the top, but I really should've taken the elevator. Also, I had no idea how long this would take, and I hadn't peed in approx two hours. I better go now! So I duck in to the restroom while trying covertly to take two puffs from my inhaler and do my business as quick as possible (I wasn't the only one thank goodness!) I tried to stealthily sneak in the courtroom, but naturally everyone had already been seated and turned to stare as I walked in; judge, lawyers, defendant, bailiff, clerks and fellow potential jurors. Awesome. I'm pretty sure I had my hand on my belly anyway and received a knowing look and smile from both the judge and the defense attorney as I muttered "Sorry!". Phew! <u>I'm not gonna get thrown in jail for contempt of court!</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Of the fifty or so of us the judge dismissed about seven because of hardships and the rest of us gave our name and background info on ourselves. This was pretty much the only time I talked, but I was so excited! Then the lawyers gave different scenarios and asked about them. We then got put in two jury rooms and they decided who would be picked. The half that was in my room kinda talked and had fun. Some of us said if we wanted to do this or not and just had idle small talk. Someone brought up me and the baby and I answered the normal questions (It's a girl, her name is Karyanna and she's due in ten weeks.) In the end a clerk came in and read a list of names of people to stay who would be serving and if not called to turn in your badge and leave. My name did not get called. I almost stood up and said <b><u>"I volunteer as tribute!"</u></b> but I figured that wouldn't work. <i>My jury duty dreams were shattered.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> As I was leaving the room someone told me to go home, put my feet up and get some rest. He'd noticed my feet turned blue while we were sitting in the courtroom. I'm pretty sure he was either a nurse or doctor that worked at OHSU. I had noticed it too and thanked him. It was quite nice, and sort of weird, that he'd noticed. I was smart this time and took the elevator down. It was 5:10pm and I knew traffic would be <b>horrid</b> so I decided I better go to the bathroom again before heading out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> My directionlessness struck again and I decided rather than stress my now hungry self out I would just take whatever streets were the least busy. I ended up at Barbur and Terwilliger which suited me just fine and I dropped down into Sellwood and was in the Clackamas area right when Nick got off work. So we met for dinner, both of us were exhausted from long days and went home to relax for the evening. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I must admit, that although I'm disappointed I didn't actually get to sit on a jury and had to wait the entire day just to be excused, I was quite glad when I got to sleep in this morning. Maybe I'll get called again in two years and then maybe I'll get to sit and participate. Until then, it was quite an experience!</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-67276425276528486232012-07-12T20:01:00.000-07:002012-07-12T20:01:03.701-07:00Glucose Screening Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1C-hcSsg7FD0K9k6kP6VgDmB4zjSceGrnAbRe7XJSCTz3JMIcXFOCeoeEP2US8dEgLX5gz5iJ3L1jnAUV32IFXxlYHAUt-0G1GDKVTPOA4MZZ40XvHq28HVveL1VivJRPHjg17LrCy8BK/s1600/glucola.JPG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1C-hcSsg7FD0K9k6kP6VgDmB4zjSceGrnAbRe7XJSCTz3JMIcXFOCeoeEP2US8dEgLX5gz5iJ3L1jnAUV32IFXxlYHAUt-0G1GDKVTPOA4MZZ40XvHq28HVveL1VivJRPHjg17LrCy8BK/s320/glucola.JPG.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I</b></span> finally arrived at the point in my pregnancy to take the glucose screening. Going into it I really wasn't concerned. I figured I either have gestational diabetes (GD) or I don't. But really was leaning more towards I don't. I followed all instructions for the test. I was nervous about drinking the juice. I'd heard and read how awful it was. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Yeah, I pretty much <u>LOVED</u> it. Given I've had an affinity for sweet things, especially since second trimester started, but I wasn't expecting how much I'd like it. They said I had to drink the 10 or so ounces in ten minutes or less. Ummm, it takes me half a day to finish a can of soda, how on earth am I gonna do this? Well, I thought ahead and brought a straw, but I ended up liking it so much that I drank the first half in two minutes alone and had no issues finishing it.</span><br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The fact that it tasted amazing to me sealed the deal for Nick and he was sure I had "The Sugar." I rolled my eyes. All I thought was that it tasted like slightly sweeter and thicker orange kool-aid (<b>Oh yeah!</b>) He had good points though that I could be feeling awful and as soon as I get sugar in me I feel great. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp5Tv2ta57uhXL17oxmzS-J_3sDVrdPht795lcaKzsvNmjGGH68EitW-dYdj4REGk4oyodjVVRUkU3MCcqqu5DBYZb3vj-3EsrBdEyqd-I3p2PPEVku40qV11o-4qE3tZ_L350IoEpY_Uk/s1600/thyroid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp5Tv2ta57uhXL17oxmzS-J_3sDVrdPht795lcaKzsvNmjGGH68EitW-dYdj4REGk4oyodjVVRUkU3MCcqqu5DBYZb3vj-3EsrBdEyqd-I3p2PPEVku40qV11o-4qE3tZ_L350IoEpY_Uk/s320/thyroid.jpg" width="285" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"> [ I would like to note that on my previous appointment my OB wanted to check my thyroid levels. I've been donating blood for 10 years now and have never once had an issue with getting a vein to go. They've always gotten it first time every time. Even when I've had blood drawn at the doctor's office when I was younger, never an issue. Bring in pregnant Jessica and this is what happens. I had to get jabbed four times and have two different people try. I had a great attitude about it. I could tell the poor girl was just having a really hard time and getting flustered. (Also of note: the original technician was cross-eyed and slightly shaking and legitimately stuttering which got worse the longer it went. I can't make this up, but she was REALLY sweet!) ]</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> So I go in for glucose test and have the same girl, but try to be real encouraging since she remembered me. Unfortunately we were on a time restriction, so after trying (and failing) once she called the second girl in. <strike>I went home and waited next to the phone for my results.</strike> I went on with my day in late afternoon got the call from the nurse that I was 6 points too high and that I would have to do the 3-hour long test. I had to get in touch with the lab and schedule to have it done within a week. I called immediately and left a voicemail. Now, this was HOURS before they closed and no one called me back. So I waited until a few hours after opening the next day and called again. This time I was more stern in my message saying I needed this test done in a week, it was my second time calling and that I'd appreciate a call back so I can get this scheduled. <i>Naturally</i> they called two hours later when I was in the shower.</span><br />
<span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Up until this point, everything in my pregnancy has been really great. Morning sickness was everyday, but only once a day and at approx the same time...I can deal with that. Everything has measured great, checkpoints happened when they should. <b>NBD</b>. So I really didn't look much into GD assuming I'd be fine, just like everything else. I knew enough to know that I couldn't really do much to stop it from happening. <i>I know several girls who are incredible healthy and got it and a few unhealthy girls who didn't.</i> Now that it was a possibility I started researching. <u>Yikes!</u> It can be really dangerous, especially if not treated. <span style="background-color: white;">When I told people I had to do the 3-hour everyone had sympathy, but I ultimately decided that I would rather be 6 points over the 'safe zone' and have to have further testing than to be 6 points under and not be sure.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Luckily Nick was able to come with me to the test. (God bless him!) The lady I scheduled with said the last thing I ate should be between eight and fourteen hours prior to my 9am appointment, so nothing after 1am. As with most pregnant women (really anyone,) if I go without food for more than three hours, I become the<i><b> Crazy-Pregnant-Lady</b></i>, or as I like to refer to it, CPL. In all efforts to be as non-bitchy as possible I had some scrambled eggs with ketchup about 12:15 am. I get called back to check in by a woman named Rachelle (imagine Coach Beaste from Glee with slightly darker skin and add 10-15 years.)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> First thing she asks is if I have my orders. Deer-in-headlights look from me "No, I was just told to come here, my doctor should've sent them over. She's just next door if we need to go get them." She then realized the purpose of my visit was for the three hour glucose screening. So she sits down and asks when I last ate. When I tell her shortly after midnight she freezes, looks at me like "You weren't supposed to do that." I quickly defend myself and say the lady told me not to eat anything eight hours prior so nothing after one. She sorta took attitude and was like, <i>it's eight to fourteen</i>, you just took it literal.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> At this point I'm just telling myself to relax, I'm just grumpy because I'm hungry (and I have three more hours until I can eat!) but I'm silently cursing her out and that if they preferred ten hours prior then they should have told me that! Sweet Nick was standing behind me and I'm sure he could see the anger radiating off my back, so he jumps in to try and defuse and asks her if they get many pregnant women who can't eat and if they're usually on edge. I think that is quite diplomatic of him. It lets her know to back the heck off and me know to calm the heck down, haha! She replies with, "<i>Oh yeah</i>. Tell a pregnant woman that hasn't eaten for eight hours that you're going to poke her and that she can't eat for three more...they're all grumpy. <b><i><u>But maybe they should have studied better for the first test!</u></i></b>" </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I don't remember having EVER wanting to punch someone in the face so bad. I'm sure my whole body twitched when she said that. This isn't something you just study for!!!! Zero patient skills. Anyway, we finish with triage and she takes me back and is the one to draw the blood. Great. I am beyond words at this point and doing my best to stay calm. I wasn't really nervous for the outcome, but more the test itself. I'd read horror stories about it! Nick explained to her what needles have been like this pregnancy and asked if we could get the kind that stays in there and just cover it in between each hour. Unfortunately they couldn't. At this point I imagine myself getting pricked <b>16</b> times over the next three hours (they needed an initial sample plus one every hour for the next three hours.) That's it for me and I just turn my head and start crying. <u>Silent cry but with many, MANY tears.</u> I apologize and try and smile and say it's just nerves and I'm a little overwhelmed. She had turned my chair and as a result I couldn't see Nick (my pillar!) and just tried to get my game face on. For as awful as she was with personal dealings, she was equally<b> wonderful </b>at her job. I didn't feel the needle enter all and she got it first try!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> She brought me the bottle of Glucola to drink (I remembered my straw again.) Friends who've read/seen Twilight, you know the part where they bring Bella the blood and she drinks it and feels better instantaneously? That's what this was like for me. Then I drank too fast and it hurt my tummy a bit, but <b>YES!</b> I had calories in me and it lifted my mood a little bit.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We went and waited in the waiting room, as sitting in the car was not an option. After about 20 mins passed I leaned on Nick's shoulder. I was about to fall asleep until I could tell that he was close to <i>snoring</i>. There was another pregnant lady (tiny asian) who was there doing her screening too. Knowing how I felt, I'm sure she didn't want to have to sit through someone else's husband shaking the room with his snores, so every 30 seconds or so I would fidget or bump him so it never quite got there. Well, Rachelle walks in and just said "<u>NO SLEEPING!</u>" to which I reply "Why?" She responds by saying I'm just like a little kid! The other girl that was working (Rachelle's opposite) leans over the counter and explains about metabolism changes when sleeping so that I can understand. Sheesh! It's not like I was going to 'disobey,' it's just that sleeping seemed like the best way to pass the time and I wanted to understand why I couldn't. We sat there for a few more minutes and I remembered we had a new board game sitting in the car. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> When I went back for my next blood draw he went and got it. We took over a corner in the office and played. Naturally we invited the other lady to come play but she was reading so she opted out. <u>Holy cow!</u> That sure made the time go faster. We cleaned up and it was time for blood draw three. When I came back out we played Kings Corner for the last hour. So much more enjoyable. By the end of our time there, I got in a good mood and Nick got really bored (an hour of that game is a long time!) </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We left the hospital and nothing sounded good to me to eat (surprise, surprise) but Nick wanted Five Guys. The fries and coke were delicious and so was the burger. I was told I'd get a call the next morning with the results. I was pretty exhausted as I'd only gotten 5 hours of sleep, so I went home and pretty much slept the rest of the day away. I felt overall run down, but it was ok, lazy day needed. I didn't feel ancy at all, I figured I couldn't do anything now, nor could I have ever, so I just waited.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The whole next morning when by and I hadn't heard from my OB's office. I figured that if it was important they would call me and if I hadn't heard from them by 2pm I'd give them a call. Well, they got in touch with me at 1:30pm and said my tests came back good! It's still important that I watch and keep my glycemic index down low, but that I was just fine. <i>Phew</i>! I figured as much but it was still a relief to know for sure. </span></span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-14378092682900262222012-06-28T12:39:00.002-07:002012-06-28T12:39:57.505-07:00Fits of Ikea<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nFSwZaUozIdoyvM4-rhhe8tMNj_x1PmxWRBrHSIrZb5flNHst-ihi_PYGt8ae7n3hho6mZ4U856R6B70lW5eJabLWOkcFywR8wCZsqkj7NM3ae17Sn7AmgwFkNxgiYAsa9IrMcLNgg9A/s1600/ikea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nFSwZaUozIdoyvM4-rhhe8tMNj_x1PmxWRBrHSIrZb5flNHst-ihi_PYGt8ae7n3hho6mZ4U856R6B70lW5eJabLWOkcFywR8wCZsqkj7NM3ae17Sn7AmgwFkNxgiYAsa9IrMcLNgg9A/s320/ikea.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>A</b></span>s mentioned before, Nick and I have decided to stay put where we are and not move. Therefore, we have a lot that needs to be done in our house to make it work. Where is quite possibly the best place for getting ideas to make a small place work? IKEA!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> This last week Nick had a Sunday-Monday off, so naturally we did what was best and went when everyone else would be going...on Sunday. Why I thought this was a great idea, I'll never know. I don't like crowds in general, sometimes they freak me out and I feel like I have to leave RIGHT NOW! and I feel like, as a whole, people just forget common sense and courtesy and any sense of traffic and direction when they get to Ikea. Multiply all of this by infinity when this pregnant chick gets hungry.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I can say I made an honest effort. We had a leisurely morning; slept in, made breakfast, watched an episode of '24,' you know, the usual. We had kinda talked about going so we showered, got dressed and left. As we were leaving I had a faint undertone of warning in my head that maybe I should eat something, just as a precaution. I quickly stomped out that little voice and took attitude with myself that I would be just fine...I'd just had breakfast.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I didn't feel hungry at all, but in reality, that breakfast had been about two hours prior. Now, if I don't eat every two to three hours, I think I've mentioned before how I turn in to psycho-pregnant-lady-who-will-kill-you-just-for-making-a-joke. We pulled into the parking lot and thought "Crap! Bad idea to come on a Sunday!" Oh well, we'll make the best of it and really my mind frame was that I would just relax, enjoy myself and do the pregnant stroll through everything (Nick had been warned this would be the case.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> My amazing husband found one of the best parking spots available, only four spaces from the door! We walk in and I grab a yellow bag (despite grabbing our blue one at home and washing it off, we still forgot it!) Nick questions me and says "We NEVER use one of those upstairs." Cue flash anger and defenses. "Are you kidding me?!? We ALWAYS do! For candles, or light bulbs are random little stuff we see upstairs!" <i>Note: That has really only happened approx. three times, but it seemed like it was a good idea to have.</i> Like most good husband, he drops it and lets me carry the bag around. We get maybe ten feet and he tries to hold my hand. Naturally it's the side of my body that the giant bag is slung around and I exasperatingly and loosely intertwine my fingers with his. This last MAYBE five seconds before I let go and, with all the outward frustration I can contain, switch the bag to the opposite shoulder. <span style="background-color: white;">He goes to grab my hand again and I semi-roll my eyes like "What are you doing?!?" He calmly (mostly) explains he's just trying to hold his wife's hand, isn't that alright? Ugg, fine. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> My favorite part about going through Ikea is to look at all the rooms and how they have put them together and to imagine my own house looking that wide-open and beautiful. Poor Nick happened to be on my left and it was difficult for me to look, especially since he more enjoys the gadgets and actual merchandise downstairs. I was trying to speed up, slow down, crane my neck around to see something just as we passed it. But it was not working. On top of it all, the hoards of other people around found it appropriate to come to a dead stop right in front of us, wait until we were right next to them to start walking with their giant full cart (which still confuses me, we're still in the first showcase, how is your cart so full???) or speed walk right behind us trying, quite unsuccessfully, to pass two groups of people. I got annoyed with the yellow bag that I so stubbornly was carrying and tried to shove it into the side of one of the couches. I'm sure I looked like a small child throwing a fit. So I angrily looked and found a bag holder I could toss it in to.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> At this point we're about halfway through the first showcase and Nick leans in to tell me that, whenever I'm ready, just let him and know and we can stop and get some food. Insert wave of emotions with an internal monologue of "What? You think I need a reminder that we need food? Are you saying I clearly need something because you can see waves or seething red radiating out of my body? Oh my gosh, I feel horrible for thinking this way towards my husband! He loves me so much and is just trying to help! Or wait, maybe <i>he</i> needs food and is getting grumpy? No,<b> it's definitely me</b>. Gosh, who am I? Why do I get like this so bad?!? It's like one minute I'm fine and perfectly happy and the next minute I'm as bad as those reality tv girls with horrible attitudes." Insert tears of guilt.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I'm sure Nick saw all of that play out on my face and his response is just a sweet "Honey, would you like to go get us a table and sit down while I grab the food for us?" I still tear up when I think of the everlasting patience he has had with me through this whole process. He brings me the most delicious plate of Swedish meatballs, incredible lingonberry sauce and gravy. (side note: we learned you can get steamed veggies instead of mashed potatoes, we will definitely substitute next time, because I don't really like their mashed taters.) I had sat there waiting for him with tears streaming down my face but had recovered by the time he sat down. I'm sure the other people sitting around were a combination of concerned, annoyed and oblivious. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I apologized for how I acted, said I felt like he was blocking my view of the rooms and that is my favorite part and I felt like he was just trying to hurry us a long when all I really wanted was some time to get inspired for our house. He laughed at me and reassured me that he wasn't trying to do any of that and that we could start over from the beginning, with me closest to the rooms so if I wanted to stop I could. I swear, his amazingness and love never stops! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We were able to continue on with our trip, have fun, laugh and smile and get some great ideas for the house with a renewed sense that we made the right decision that it will all work out just fine. People were still dumb, but our minds were working together and we navigated the crowds without incident and made it through. Karyanna is so lucky to have Nick as her Daddy! And I am so lucky to have him as an example of how we work in this family!</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-76525429971856698922012-06-18T16:55:00.000-07:002012-06-18T16:55:36.258-07:00Time is Ticking Away!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAl7EmdxbDGqHm4NOOfScU39oT6LbzhqYSHF2r4ZRaKeF47_MGsrPdyJz9NVbGnncCosxL72wyyOj6wgGMJmiTkwa5KSiDWGXe4dTo0eDrfEDuB0L2l09Y5uLvYxsVkLFGTD8L8AISfKU/s1600/baby-due-date.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAl7EmdxbDGqHm4NOOfScU39oT6LbzhqYSHF2r4ZRaKeF47_MGsrPdyJz9NVbGnncCosxL72wyyOj6wgGMJmiTkwa5KSiDWGXe4dTo0eDrfEDuB0L2l09Y5uLvYxsVkLFGTD8L8AISfKU/s320/baby-due-date.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>H</i></b></span>ere I am thinking I have all kinds of time until Karyanna was here. SHE'S DUE IN 100 DAYS!!! I know it will probably be give or take a few (or 14) but still. </span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I remember when it was the 100 day countdown until Nick and I got married and I made him a paper chain with 100 ways I love him and gave him one everyday. He asked me not to do that here...it got quite messy. :) But baby girl, Mommy (and Daddy!) are so excited to meet you!</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I may have mentioned before that our plan was to move out of our 688 sq ft one bedroom house. After looking at things, we've opted to stay where we are for a year in favor of buying a new house next year. SUCH A HARD DECISION! But one that was certainly needed and is for the best. We're converting out Dining Room into her nursery and going to be putting up a room divider (not a permanent or hard to move one in case of emergencies.) </span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> In the mean time, we're working on getting the house ready. We pick up her crib and dresser the first week of July, so we will be moving half of our stuff into storage before then. The first weekend in August we're flying out to see my family in AZ (yes, I am a little nuts to be flying at almost 8 months pregnang, but Dr gave me the A-OK) Our goal is to have the whole house ready by the time we go to Arizona, because really, she could decide show up at any time (please wait until AT LEAST September sweet girl!) and we don't want to be scrambling or lay the burden on our families to finish while in the hospital.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> All in all we have 6 weeks to have everything set and ready for her grand appearance. The whole change basically consists of packing everything up and moving some of it while rearranging the rest, ie-moving and house unpacked! That thought is slightly overwhelming when I think about all we have to do, but she is so worth and we're just taking it one day at a time. <3</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-11698211658800723412012-06-14T22:01:00.001-07:002012-06-14T22:01:22.740-07:00Stairway to Heaven<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ow0XapR_amVFkK64DK997aIKl90IzmrPP58B-wyhtxkVa7dI-eSuythAAZya79KO6BMpCgFq_Tu2ysb8Kuj9aOZRRbL8R4uwAwpI77ZjgFSxSdJbepqd0tAloJvEeh3i743Ch5VZBTl4/s1600/pregnancy+cardio+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Ow0XapR_amVFkK64DK997aIKl90IzmrPP58B-wyhtxkVa7dI-eSuythAAZya79KO6BMpCgFq_Tu2ysb8Kuj9aOZRRbL8R4uwAwpI77ZjgFSxSdJbepqd0tAloJvEeh3i743Ch5VZBTl4/s320/pregnancy+cardio+1.jpg" width="248" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If only I looked like this whenever I did cardio!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Y</b></span>ou know, it's a funny thing. I had all these hopes of while pregnant becoming this superstar that ate only healthy foods, worked out often (5-7 days/week) and in general became a healthier person. Try again!</span><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I've argued that I'm happy my 3rd trimester is during the summer. Sure the heat will suck, but it's the time that I always want fresh fruits and vegetables and I eat lighter. What I forgot, was that it's also the time I crave ice cream, pies and elephant ears. </span><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Before I got pregnant I had been running for about <strike>five</strike> four months (note, I got sick and had to stop for six weeks prior to baby.) I loved it! I'd <b>lost over twenty pounds</b> and it felt great! But that was pretty much it for me. I didn't lift weights, but I was getting my eating on track. I figured once I was no longer sick I'd pick things right back up. Haha!</span><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Since finding out we're expecting I've done cardio <i><u>maybe</u></i> ten times and weight lifting (leg day) only once. That is so not what I had in mind for myself. Just last week I got back to my pre-pregnancy weight and this week gained a pound, so net I am +1. For being twenty-five weeks I think that's pretty good!</span><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Anyway, I've been making a mental shift. Nick and I want to raise our daughter with a healthy body image and general knowledge of what being healthy actually is and how to put it into practice. There's no way we can do that when Mommy <strike>doesn't get her stuff done</strike> goes to McDonald's because it's easy, doesn't make fitness a priority, and doesn't set a good example.</span><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> So today I went to the gym. I sure didn't want to, but I got a little inkling to just go so I got up, got dressed and went. I'm <u>90% stoked</u> and feel awesome I went and 10% feeling like "What did you do to yourself!" I used to do forty minutes of stairs and hate/love it. </span><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Since getting pregnant, going up one flight feels like running a 5k. Ok, not really that bad, but it's bad. So I set my mind that I was going to go back to my frenemy the Stair-Monster. I told myself <i>15 minutes</i>. That's all I needed to do. I am tough enough to do 15 minutes! <b>Mission accomplished!</b> I had to take a one minute break every five minutes, but that was out of necessity to keep control of my heart-rate. My plan after stairs was half hour of treadmill.</span><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Well, Karyanna didn't very much enjoy the treadmill. We both did great on stairs, but treadmill was difficult. Right now she's still sitting breach, and I'm pretty sure she cannon-balled my lower abdomen and just sat there (<i>I hope this is not a precursor for future temper tantrums!</i>) Well, by ten minutes into it, my whole belly was hard and my 'underbelly' pain was about a 6-6.5 out of 10. I decided to call it quits. After all, I did my stairs!!! I sat in the women's locker room <u>'recovering'</u> for a half hour before I felt like I could get to my car (ok ok, over-dramatic, but that's just how I am.) No worries though, I've felt her moving since and everything seems to be OK</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. I'm sure it was just round-ligament pain that was protesting hard because I haven't been active.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Will I go to the gym again tomorrow? Probably not, if I do it will be light upper-body weight training and pool time. However, June 29th is my last day of work (<b>so bittersweet</b>!) and I plan on Nick and I going to the gym on the days that he works. We will be a healthy family!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>"To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift!"</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>-Pre</b></i></span></div>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-29858786794869445452012-05-23T14:48:00.001-07:002012-05-23T14:48:24.966-07:00Dairy Queen, We Treat You Right?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRCgdLicpPuV8oKshrAGoLy4kfFL_Nw8TSayPS71omirZJGxkQlFoPxTkllAqk7FPkQyNaxOo27ZsW-_aq_A5tbi-zGkelM9d6DbELWzcF69T9-EUyuzno-uOecsPL0R_h8AWLiVLu3rPz/s1600/chocolate+dip+cone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRCgdLicpPuV8oKshrAGoLy4kfFL_Nw8TSayPS71omirZJGxkQlFoPxTkllAqk7FPkQyNaxOo27ZsW-_aq_A5tbi-zGkelM9d6DbELWzcF69T9-EUyuzno-uOecsPL0R_h8AWLiVLu3rPz/s320/chocolate+dip+cone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Preface: On the rare occasion I go to Dairy Queen, I always (ALWAYS!) get a small Mud Pie blizzard. They are seriously like heaven on earth. However, since being with-child, I can't seem to stomach anything coffee flavored that isn't in fact coffee. Hence, my dip cone story.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>A</b></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">s mentioned, Dairy Queen is <u>NOT</u> in my usual repertoire of food or dessert. I'd say I have maybe half dozen blizzards a year, mostly concentrated in the summer and several of those seem to be because that's where everyone else is going. Oh how that has changed!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I pretty much go to the DQ every other week now, and it seems as if I end up in tears <i>(the bad kind)</i> every visit. Nick has suggested I just not go on my own. The reason for these breakdowns? They never have chocolate ice cream available when I come by. It's as if they're ALWAYS cleaning out that daggum machine. How is it, that when there's blazing (70degree) sun out at 1pm you <b>DO NOT</b> have available half your ice cream?!?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now keep in mind, these cravings usually hit right after lunch time. And I'm not exaggerating, I've had to drive to multiple locations the last 4 times I've gone on my own. (Once I've ordered <i>I HAVE TO GET IT</i>! No, I can not just get over it and come back later tonight. <b><i><u>I NEED IT NOW</u></i></b>!) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One employee was quite lucky that working with children I've learned to be patient and hold my tongue when he asked me if vanilla would be ok? (Que inner monologue: <i>Really?!? <b>Really?!?</b> Did I order vanilla? No, if I had wanted vanilla I would've ordered it!</i>) I just do my best at being polite, although I'm sure I don't sound polite at all, and say "No, thanks. I'll just try somewhere else," smirk and drive off.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The only place that has had what I needed every time, <i>bless them</i>, is the Troutdale location. Perhaps next time I shall just go there first and skip all the heartache...and by next time I mean in approximately 13 days :).</span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-58003954274336792962012-05-07T19:45:00.002-07:002012-05-07T19:53:51.685-07:00Little Bit of Laundry, Lots of Other Messes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEuNOFu0AUtHjawMzhx02r2t3Con0PUQzbrg-HNDV6wBJkNDEo6gt6-LJib9ReQKU6pGlut3SOOILHhhJ1aLHglywaRjd3l85B15Fn_iXo1_Dzo_n5eg2k-_saZugp75AYO8NgiOBfQDhs/s1600/vintage+housewife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEuNOFu0AUtHjawMzhx02r2t3Con0PUQzbrg-HNDV6wBJkNDEo6gt6-LJib9ReQKU6pGlut3SOOILHhhJ1aLHglywaRjd3l85B15Fn_iXo1_Dzo_n5eg2k-_saZugp75AYO8NgiOBfQDhs/s320/vintage+housewife.jpg" width="285" /></a><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">T</span></b>hings I needed to do today: </span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Laundry</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Dishes</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Shower (yes, I need to list it so I remember)</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Car care</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Eat and take vitamins</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Make dinner</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Things I accomplished so far today:</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Picnic at the park with my sister and her 3 glorious kids</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Shower</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Gas/Car Wash</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Banking</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Produce shopping</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Budgeting</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Eat and take vitamins</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I got lots done, but not lots on my list. Still to go, and will be happening, is make dinner, <i>some</i> dishes, more vitamins and a<i> little bit</i> of laundry.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I'm lucky enough, that starting in July sometime I'm going to be a full time<b> Stay-At-Home-Mommy</b> (to be.) It's all I've ever truly wanted. I was looking at budget stuff to see what it will be like to live off of just Nick's income. And I have to admit,<i> it's a little scary and a lot of exciting!</i> It definitely means I will be cooking..<b>.a lot</b>! And it means I will be driving much much less! </span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> One of the things that I'm most nervous about though is the housekeeping side of things. I am one of those weirdos who LOVES doing laundry, but in our tiny house we have right now, with no room for my clothes (despite getting rid of half of my wardrobe a year ago!) I just get overwhelmed. I seem to fall so far behind on it.<i> Literally my living room looks like a messy walk in closet with clean clothes strewn about everywhere. </i>The actual closet is not much better.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I know it drives Nick nuts too, and stresses him out about as much as it stresses me out. And I totally feel like <b>when the laundry is in disarray so is everything else in the house</b>. The dishes stack up faster (no dishwasher,) the garbage seems fuller, the clutter just looks more abundant. It is very difficult balancing my strong desires to be '<i>supermom</i>' (bad term, but I couldn't think of a better one) with my incredible lack of self discipline and general get-it-doneness. I'm praying everyday that I can get a better handle on things and that things don't fall apart and I can keep up once sweet baby Roth is here.</span><br />
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I know everything is a learning process with a steep, steep curve. And I in no way expect that I will have a perfect house,<b> ever.</b> But I do expect myself to have a comfortable house that others can come into that is warm, welcoming and happy. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="left" border="0" cellpadding="0" style="background-color: #e5e5dd;"><tbody>
<tr><td width="10"><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td colspan="2"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-left;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">When it comes to housework the one thing </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">no book of household management</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;"> can ever tell you is how to begin. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">Or maybe I mean why. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">~Katharine Whitehorn, </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">"Nought for Homework,"<i>Roundabout</i>, 1962</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">
</span></span>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-50291584960928701472012-04-23T09:15:00.001-07:002012-04-23T09:16:40.061-07:00Spokane Adventure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK9ebhYLhYUsEiY5VyA4Za79CBg10GT789dn0uPdmHNm_j-S2uXt1XJPYhigALwWJq4P1FfPotOWntqeZbwK6W4rUZBrqTXrhp6mD8knd6fzMl0axGyELy8DjZGhyphenhyphenYfsa3RMUsY1p4rRyh/s1600/survival.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK9ebhYLhYUsEiY5VyA4Za79CBg10GT789dn0uPdmHNm_j-S2uXt1XJPYhigALwWJq4P1FfPotOWntqeZbwK6W4rUZBrqTXrhp6mD8knd6fzMl0axGyELy8DjZGhyphenhyphenYfsa3RMUsY1p4rRyh/s320/survival.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">E</span>very April Nick and I got to a Leadership Conference in Spokane where John Maxwell is the key note speaker. It's something we look forward to and really, at least for me, is the start of my year (yes, I know we're 4 months in, but my year starts when the weather gets nice!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> About a month ago we talked about it and decided that it just didn't make sense to go. Logically, I knew it was good to say no, but as the weekend got closer I started getting a little bummed we weren't going to be there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Well, Thursday morning we got a message from one of our group leaders saying we could still get tickets if one or both of us wanted to go. The ball got moving and it was decided that I would go and I was staying in a room with 3 other women.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Sometimes it really is best to<i> jump in with two feet</i> isn't it? I didn't think some things through. I missed my friend's wedding, which she had known was a possibility. I missed my cousin's bride-to-be's shower. But I gained some huge personal growth! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I couldn't leave until Friday evening, (usually we leave early EARLY Friday morning.) I was driving to Spokane, a 5-6 hr drive,<b> all by myself</b>. At night. <i>While pregnant</i> (which really isn't that big of a deal, but really makes it more dramatic, don't you think?)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> My original plan was to leave between 4:30 and 5pm, but Nick and I didn't really get to see each other, so timing worked out that we went and had dinner when he was off work. He worked late, dinner took awhile, so I didn't leave Portland until 8pm. That put me in Spokane at approx. 2am. Wow! I think New Year's is the last time I was up that late.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It wasn't until I was driving that I realized how crazy it was. I'm 4 1/2 months pregnant which can equal a lot of bathroom stops. Umm, I don't know if you've done the drive to Spokane, but it is <b>NOT</b> stopper friendly. It's country highways with rest stops filled with 30 truckers sleeping.<u> I've seen way too many scary movies to feel safe doing that.</u> So I stopped in The Dalles (with a smart plan to tell people I was headed to<i> Portland</i> if anyone should ask!) and I stopped in Tri-Cities praying that my bladder would hold off until I'd make it to Spokane.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I met up with friends and instantly knew that it was <i>all worth it.</i> I didn't realize how much I'd missed these people and how much of a huge impact they've had on my life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It was strange meeting sleeping in a hotel room with 3 other women. The lights went out and we all laid there trying to get to sleep. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to lay there, knowing I'm probably breathing heavy and that everyone is listening to everyone else?!? I just went to my happy place trying to relax and hope to feel a little nudge from my sweet little baby.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The conference was great! It always is. But, it was so odd not having Nick there. I depend on him so much. He really is my partner in life, in everything we do. I did feel like a grown up though. Figuring things out all on my own. I got my first belly rubs (Thanks Dwight and Shaman!) and was really excited to share our awesome news with people who hadn't heard yet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I found out that my good friend Brooke lived only a half hour away so we decided to meet up Saturday night. It was so great seeing her! She was in my wedding and I don't think I've seen her since then. I'm happy that she's moving closer in a week and so glad that we got to reconnect like that!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Sunday is always my favorite day in the conference. It helps at looking forward and is just fun because the whole stadium is buzzing with excitement from the weekend. As I'm sitting there listening to a men's panel I suddenly felt a short quiver in my lower abdomen!<b><i> I felt my baby legitimately stir for the first time!</i></b> I gasped, looked up and instantly my eyes filled with tears (I knew I always liked Jimmy Head. Such a great speaker that even baby Roth reacted!) I have no idea what he said, I had completely checked out for about 5 minutes! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I had some awesome revelations about myself and my marriage and just my life in general. I realized that I am <u>so much more</u> than I've been allowing myself to be. I seem to get so caught up in my day-to-day life and stress of everything that I forget how great I was made to be. I forget how much I truly just<i> love people</i> and want to be a light for others.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I asked God this weekend to help me become a better servant. This absolutely TERRIFIES me, because I remember life after I asked Him to help me become more patient. But I truly want and desire to be a joyful servant; To my husband, our children, our family, our friends and even people we don't know!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Overall, I am so very glad I went. It was worth every moment of missing Nick (but it would've been MUCH BETTER with him there,) it was worth all the hours in the car, it was worth every tear I cried! I can't wait until next year, I know it will be just as great!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-20001742513992109672012-04-14T17:15:00.004-07:002012-04-14T17:36:28.429-07:00The Joy of Pregnancy?<span><span style="font-size: 100%; " >To say I've been emotional lately is quite the understatement. But, I had my first potentially humiliating experience today.</span></span><div style="font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >I had been out shopping for an hour or two and was at Old Navy looking to score a new cute scarf for the Bachelorette dinner I'm going to this evening. I stopped by the maternity section (as per usual) and was (as per usual) bored with their selection. I then roamed the rest of the store (twice!) and found a total of 4 scarves. Really Old Navy?!? Anyway, I stopped to peruse the jewelry (note: I am SO HAPPY that mint green is totally in!) and while I was spinning a pillar I sneezed. </span></div><div style="font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >Now, mind you my ordinary sneezes have been described as dainty and even by some as classy. And although this was no normal-for-me sneeze, it was by no means big. But sneeze away I went and all of the sudden, oops! I just peed myself. And not a little either. (Damn you kegels!) This wasn't some little drip, drip, drop. This was full on baseball sized wet spot on the front of my jeans! </span></div><div style="font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >Unfortunately, I've gotten used to peeing myself when I had morning sickness. But that was in the privacy of my own bathroom and only conveyed through story telling to my friends. It's never actually happened in public. </span></div><div><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">Thank GOD I had a small bag from Ulta so as I rushed out the door, past the caped employee (no </span>exaggeration <span style="font-size: 100%;">there!) across the 'street' and to my car I was able to try (<--operative word!) to cover myself. I'm sure I was a million shades of red, walking too fast to be nonchalant and shaking my head the whole time. Not much can humble you like peeing your pants in public! I was praying the whole 5 block drive home that it wouldn't get on my seats (luckily it did not.) </span></span></div><div style="font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >And the crazy thing was when I came inside and sat down on the toilet to 'finish,' I hardly went at all. I didn't even feel like I had to go BEFORE I sneezed. Dear Sweet Baby Roth, mommy loves you! But please don't make me pee in public anymore. I don't want to do that much laundry!</span></div>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-39706810608035522462012-04-04T20:36:00.005-07:002012-04-04T21:02:33.658-07:00Unexpected<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5nrRovkNxKAAvQ0x7k4rINfIfHBAi3-sjheEteMSFdZVRvL8biL-O0M1WA0g9ytpSK7YFvMGx35ZUb2iavZCZHDL9pvI5INsrAfC2sOlcUg1jQPcR2JAZixzo8EJItmaWDonpI4tSPl0/s1600/embarrassing.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT5nrRovkNxKAAvQ0x7k4rINfIfHBAi3-sjheEteMSFdZVRvL8biL-O0M1WA0g9ytpSK7YFvMGx35ZUb2iavZCZHDL9pvI5INsrAfC2sOlcUg1jQPcR2JAZixzo8EJItmaWDonpI4tSPl0/s320/embarrassing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727759560806918642" /></a><br />I expected a lot of things about pregnancy. I expected to love it. I expected to be sick. I expected to want maternity clothes ASAP (full panel pants?!? YES PLEASE!) I expected that there would be hard days. I expected there would be incredible days. I expected there would be negative things, and I was not naive to the whole process (I do have 5 nieces and nephews ages 5 and under, 11 under 10 if you consider extended family!) I'm not a stranger to what all the books and websites say. I felt like I was prepared.<div style="font-style: normal; ">What I wasn't expecting, and really feel like I never heard (or maybe I did and just couldn't understand,) was all of the <b>sorta bad</b> stuff. Like the fact that my skin, although 10 times clearer and smoother, would stop obeying me when applying make up. I have changed my foundation twice now trying to find the right one for my new glorious, pre-pubescent skin. I think I may have settled on mineral make up (a MAJOR no for me before.) </div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">Although I was expecting pain, I was more thinking along the lines of low back pain, or round ligament pain, and probably boob pain too. I was not expecting for all my major joints to feel like I've gained 50 lbs, not lost 15! I was not expecting old injuries to flare up out of nowhere and cause pain (I'm talking to <i>you,</i> hurt knee from 7th grade!) </div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; ">I was certainly not expecting body changes. Ok well, clearly I was (duh! there's a human growing inside of me.) But I really more imagined it (read: fantasized it to be) an all of the sudden thing. I knew my body would change (hips widen, boobs pornify, belly protrude,) but I honestly thought it would all happen over night (silly Jessica!) I didn't expect this slow gradual change from the former me to the full on pregnant me. I didn't expect to ever look frumpy in maternity clothes (they fit my boobs but not my belly, a true shocker to me!) </div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; ">I did expect the emo part though. Mostly because my PMS emotions are as up and down as a ride on Tower of Terror. However, they still shock me when they hit hard (why am I crying right now? Why am I going postal on that driver?!?)</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; ">I'm truly not complaining and I'm real sorry if it sounds like that (thanks Michelle and Linds for listening to me talk about some of this earlier!) I mainly just wanted to document what was going on so I have a heads up for next time (looking out for future-pregnant-Jessica :-D) </div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; ">And I definitely feel so blessed with this pregnancy. I have several friends that are or have been preggers too and have it much worse than me! This has, so far, been an easy pregnancy. Praying it stays that way!</div>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1030330055410975593.post-69821033457533346222012-04-01T12:07:00.003-07:002012-04-01T12:19:05.576-07:00Second Trimester<span ><span><b>Boy am I feeling pregnant!</b></span><span style="font-size: 100%; "> All in a very good way, of course! I can no longer lay on my tummy, I must have at least one leg hitched so I'm more on my side. Morning sickness is gone, PRAISE THE LORD! Just as I was getting used to it again it leaves. I don't miss it.</span></span><div style="font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >My mom took me shopping for maternity clothes. Due to my previous 'food baby' I didn't think I really needed to put the fake bump on, but did anyway, and holy cow! I can't wait until that thing is real! I've always known I would love being pregnant, that I would relish in every moment, good or bad, that I had. I am so happy that has been true, and I can not wait to look to everyone else like I am pregnant, because it's just going to be so much fun.</span></div><div><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;">I've also FINALLY started exercising again and it feels wonderful! My OB cleared me for all activities and I am </span>thoroughly <span style="font-size: 100%;">enjoying my runs, I was really scared to go out, but I am so glad I did. I am feeling more like myself again and know that I will be able to keep a handle on weight gain (is it too early to start thinking about how I'm going to loose it all?!?)</span></span></div><div><span ><b><span>On the Daddy side of things:</span></b><span style="font-size: 100%; "> he's adjusting well to working full time and is learning so much as a lab manager! It's really neat to see him being challenged and grow in a field he had no previous experience. I really am blessed with such an amazing husband and future baby-daddy!</span></span></div>Jessica Rothhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07001346163951209832noreply@blogger.com0