Yes, my sisters will read this blog.  The twit will know who she is.  I told them I had doctor appointments today.  I TOLD them!  Pre-op at the hospital, and a pre-op with my doctor.  But twit-head decides to try to call me at home.  No answer.  Hmm, something's afoot, she thinks to herself.  She calls my cell phone.  No answer (because it's dead).  This is apparently when her ADD imagination took over (she doesn't have ADD, until she starts thinking 'what if' scenarios) and she called my husband's cell, all panicked.  As if we would have the baby and forget to call her.  Hey, don't look at me like that.  This is HER 'what if', not mine!  ;)

So we navigated the massive amounts of paperwork at the hospital, all the while having to listen to a woman scream as she delivered down the hall, and the newborn's cries.  That part was kind of neat, actually.  Except for the paperwork.  Enough to remind me of when we bought our house!  Then the checkup at the doctor (everything's fine and ready to go)  Blood drawn, pee cups filled, countdown commencing.

I'd like to thank you all for putting up with me as I've ranted and raved my way through this pregnancy.  Not very writing related, but I have been able to use this blog to vent and get some of it out of my system.  And as long as I writing, in one venue or another...I doubt I'll be on much the next few weeks, just because being around a computer on sleep deprivation in my case is akin to drinking and driving.  Just say NO!

So I go to the hospital tomorrow, get out Sunday (or hopefully Monday, if I'm lucky; the food there ain't that bad), and then life shall begin again, in all its crazy and chaotic glory.  I call it that now, because I slept last night!  Have a great week and weekend, everyone!  See you on the other side!

I'm trying so hard to stay positive.  But when I gain weight faster than I'm supposed to on a weekly basis, and I actually outgrow maternity clothes (how the hell does that happen?!), it's a bit difficult.  It's all water retention, but still.  I'm waiting for GreenPeace to come and tow me back out to sea.  That's how big I am now.  And nobody thought there were beached whales in Idaho-a landlocked state!  It can happen!  Really!

It's only temporary,  I know.  And soon I'll have a beautiful baby to show for it.  Whatever.  If I'm going to gain more than a pound a week (and it's been a LOT more than that) I should proudly be able to say it was from the brownies, or cake, or the all-you-can-eat buffet.  But noooo, I'm drinking water.  And where is that water going?  Not the bathroom, despite my every-ten-minutes regimen.  Let's just say I used to have ankles.  And feet.

Anyone ever see Big Trouble in Little China?  Mid 80's, Kurt Russell, John Carpenter flick?  The scene where the evil henchman uses magic to try to inflate himself, and loses control?  Bad special effects, where they show his swollen feet and hands, before he blows up in an explosion of clothing and Moo Goo Gai Pan.  Yeah, that would be me.  Except it would be Cashew Chicken in my case.  Not a bad last meal, if you ask me!  :)

Sorry about the rant, gang.  I've been waddling by too many reflective surfaces lately.  I was downtown yesterday, and let's just say window shopping isn't what it used to be!  I take up the whole damn window!  The whole block of windows!

One week to go!

Today, brothahs and sistahs, we are going to talk about Adam and Eve, among other things.  Can I get an AMEN!!!  For it says in the book of Genesis that when Eve listened to the serpent, took of the forbidden apple, and gave it unto Adam, they disobeyed God.  For this, God gave them their walking papers.  He told Adam that he would have to toil in the ground for his food, and his children would hate brussel sprouts and refuse to eat the fruits and vegetables of his labor, and only want french fries instead.  And he said unto Eve, he said, "Girl, you gonna get pregnant, get bitchy, and it's gonna HURT when you give birth!"

Can I get another A-MAYEN!!!!

Ever since,  generations of women have been taught this, and have often asked:  Okay, so Eve did that to God.  Okay, gotcha.  What did I do to Eve?  Now tell me, have there been any men out there who haven't wondered the same thing?  What did they do to Adam to deserve such a fate?  Or what did they do to Eve?  Because we all know that Adam did not have the ability to roll his eyes, until Eve became pregnant and lit into him in a hormonal rush.  And ever since, men have been rolling their own eyes when women begin to succumb to the influence of their pregnancy induced madness.  But when the morning sickness begins, and the crying ensues, no one is immune.

Can I get a Hallelujah!

But fear not, my brothahs and sistahs!  Fear not, I say!  For though we walk in the valley of unshaved legs and untied shoelaces, and a woman's belly looks like a road map of Montana from all the stretch marks, there is HOPE!  AMEN!!!  Because soon, my fellow humans, all over the world, doctors and nurses and taxi cab drivers will be catching those little bundles of glory as they come forth amidst the screams and the cursing and the occasional thrown punch.  YAY-ESSS!!!  And there will be joy, and tears, and laughter.

Until the colic begins.

Let us pray.

As a member of the female gender of the human species, I have noticed over the years (since puberty) how weak men's eyes are.  There are just some men who can't keep their eyes above 45 degrees north when they meet a member of the female gender.  Ladies know what I'm talking about.  Eye contact for about two seconds, and then a quick glance down.  Or more than one.

I'm, frankly, okay with this.  While not meaning to upset men or women over my take on the situation, I just accept it as male character and move on.  If they can't pay attention to the conversation, it's tremendously easy to say "hasta la vista".  I'm secure enough in my body and my relationships that it just doesn't faze me.

Being pregnant has added a new dimension to the male behavior.  Which I have found to be extremely funny!  One day at work, I was walking down the hall, and one of my male co-workers (whom I don't see very often) and I passed.  Since he hadn't seen me in a while, it didn't surprise me at all when he looked at my face, looked down, and continued looking down, all the way to my burgeoning belly.  His eyes got wider and wider, and he exclaimed "When are you having that kid?!"  The whole time, he was talking to my stomach.  Not my breasts, but my stomach!  I told him I wasn't due for another three months, and his eyes finally, in total amazement, came back to my face.  "Seriously?!"  Dude, I thought to myself, you should be in here looking OUT.

And last night, I brought the last of the Halloween candy to work for my coworkers to peruse, steal, and get out of my hair and away from my family.  Another male coworker came over and grabbed a Three Musketeers, looked at me, and furiously began shoving the candy in his mouth.  He kept looking at me, glancing away, looking back.  I just patiently looked at him and waited.  He finally admitted he was stuffing his face to keep from saying something inappropriate.  I told him that it wasn't going to bother me, and just get it out of his system (because I knew what was coming).  He heaved a sigh of relief and said, "Don't take this the wrong way, 'cause I love my wife, but you are really stacked!" 

Now I know my coworkers, and I can tell the difference between a compliment and a mere observation.  This was an observation.  And don't go thinking that I work with a bunch of primates, because they aren't.  But they are also men, and victims of their nature.  I take my chuckles where I can get them, and move on.  They are a pretty professional bunch of people.  Most of them are married with children of their own, and feel okay making some of these comments, because the exact same thing happened to their wives.  I'm okay with it, because they can relate to my husband and have been down that road.  They know when I'm cranky and to leave me alone, and they know when it's a good time to talk with me, when I'm in a good mood.  And because of my outlook on the whole thing, I find any observations made, whether verbally or though body language, to be extremely funny!  It's just not something I get my knickers in a twist about!

I guess my point is that when certain  men make a spectacle of themselves over my pregnancy, I find it amusing!

I got the smackdown today by my son.  I know, I brag a lot about how smart and deep he is for his age, and yet still struggles with the foibles of first grade reading and math.  But when a six year old kid tells you off, and happens to be right, well, it makes for some serious pondering.  I have questions at the end of the blog, so keep going.

Anyone paying attention to this blog the past six months has probably been rolling their eyes at my constant pregnancy rants.  In my defense (rally the call for any mothers out there who know what I'm talking about), pregnancy is a dominating force.  It not only takes over your body for the duration, but afterwards as well.  The mind is filled with what ifs, watching the latest toy and product recalls, and having to pause whatever is going on to deal with the symptom of the day.  And people still ask me if I've been writing.

I've been blocked.  Or I've been chicken.  I don't know.  I don't know why I'm not writing.  Except for my blog, and the occasional writing group meeting, I have found a myriad of reasons to stay away from the computer/desk/notebook.  There was a blog I read early in my pregnancy by a very prolific writer (you know who you are, don't apologize) who gave his opinion about how "real writers" keep trying, make the time, take the effort, and don't quit.  I didn't reply back to him at the time, because even though he had a point, I was WAY too hormonal to even simply say, "Dude, get married, have kids, and get back to me."

But that blog has always nagged the back of my brain.  I've had friends and family who have asked why I've stopped writing.  Those questions, which I've blown off with "I'm pregnant and blocked" answers, have also nagged me.  The past week, something snapped in me.  I have finally asked the same question others ask of me:  Why?  (Don't worry, I'm getting to the six year old smack down point)

For the past two years I think, I have had an idea.  Huge idea.  Novel sized idea.  This also has naturally blocked me.  Huge idea, how do I make it work, make everything connect, etc.  So I've only sparingly touched on the story since I began it two years and three thousand words ago.  Last night, at writing group, the prompt was "cleaning products".  Since this particular story is about a telepathic hotel maid, I figured it was time to see what I could make happen with this prompt.  In that ten minute exercise, I opened another avenue, another antagonist, another possible challenge my heroine will need to face, another plot thread.  Holy crap!

I came home from the meeting feeling renewed.  I told my husband about this, and my son overheard me.  He asked me (like everyone else) why I had stopped writing.  Since the kid has a knack for forcing the truth out of me, I told him.  I don't really know, I said.  Maybe because I worry about being a good mother with a baby and a good writer at the same time.  I also get tired a lot, which makes writing hard.

In seconds, that kid lit into me faster than anything.  "You always tell me that I have to do some things even when I'm scared!  You have to do that, too!  You have to write, even when you are afraid!"

Holy shit, folks.  My muse has been in the unemployment line for the past six months.  I still can't give a definite answer as to the why of it all.  Scared, priorities shifting, whatever.  I also have not been able to find many role models that are parents and writers, who have a life situation similar to mine.  I work, my husband is in school.  Most writers I research seem to have someone in the background who picks up the slack so they can write full time, or have the kind of life where they can write while the spouse or significant other takes on the parental and household duties when they get home from work.  Not to mention my time management skills suck.

When this baby comes, everything is going to stop for a while.  There's no denying that.  Everything is going to revolve around that new kid, who couldn't care less that mommy needs mommy writing time.  We got pregnant at a time when I was enjoying the release of my first published story, and was looking forward to working on more stories, and getting out there, getting accepted some, rejected some.  This pregnancy brought home the fact that it is NOT about me, and won't be again for quite some time.  When there is time, it most likely will be for sleep, not writing.  Or possibly cooking something for my family that doesn't come out of a box or from a drive-thru.

So here's my question, directed to anyone reading this who is a parent and writer:  How do you do it?  What adaptations did you create, what sacrifices were made, to be able to do both, to find the balance?  Was there a balance?  Was there guilt?  Arguments?

Next piece of advice I need:  Does anyone out there think it's possible to write 77,000 words in three months?  I've missed the beginning of Nanowrimo, and I'm far too realistic about that goal and my life situation right now anyway.  Not in one month.  But three?  Hmmm.....

Well, and 'I'.  Pickles, popcorn, and ice cream.  This baby is so weird.  But I think I'm starting to be able to tell the difference between the baby's movement, and the hunger pangs, and gas.  Before, it all felt the same.

Munchkin started soccer today.  He loved it!  I hesitate to say he loved it more than baseball, but that may apparently be the case.  Sigh.  At least he's having fun.  And speaking of my precious, innocent, darling child:  Yesterday we were talking about which of his friends he wanted to practice his soccer with.  I suggested one friend, and my son replied, "I can't, he'll kick me in the balls!"

Did I mention he's six?  I don't think he was referring to soccer balls, either.  He saw the look on my face and quickly amended his statement:  "I mean nuts." 

He's six, people.

And I've had to give up my jewelry.  Now I know that sounds like a very vain statement.  You need to understand something.  Any jewelry I wear is not for vanity's sake.  I had to give up the necklaces my husband and son gave me, because I was so busy with morning sickness that anything around my neck made me very sensitive.  And now, I've had to give up my wedding  ring, and a graduation present ring my sister gave me.  Swelling fingers.

There is silver lining, though.  This Saturday, Ken McConnell and I will be attending a book signing  for Barren Worlds at the local independent bookstore in my home town!   Yeah!!  Friends have been putting out the word for me, and I have some posters to distribute. 

I could go on all night with all the anecdotes and funny things that have happened this week, but tomorrow is a rather busy day.  My thoughts and prayers to everyone affected by Hurricane Ike, as well as the current financial crisis.  How long has it been since we've had major natural disasters and financial collapses all in the same week that were independent of each other?  I forget.

Hello to my family in their various locations.  To family in Florida and the midwest, I hope Ike didn't kick your ass too much!