Blue or pink...what will it be?

It's a.................................

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.....nother GIRL!!

I'm very excited about it. I do realize the majority of the world was thinking that I must have really been hoping for a boy this time around. But nope...I love my little girls and was actually hoping for another one. As silly as my reasoning may seem, I kind of felt like with all the change that we are facing in the next little while, having another girl would seem a little simpler.

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Marty didn't seem surprised. I think he's resigned to the fact that boys may not be in the future for his posterity.

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Brielle was SO glad when I told her. She jumped up and down clapping and yelling, "Another girl, another girl, yeah! This will be so much fun!"

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She had told me all along, "We are a girl family, so this is a baby girl. We won't ever have boys, just like Erik (Marty's brother who has 4 boys) will never have any girls." The truth can be painful.

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The only downside to having another girl is it will be much harder to convince Marty that I need new baby stuff....I will work on my convincing skills in the next few weeks.

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Three girls....I may be kicking myself in the teenage years. But for now I'll just pretend that they'll always be little and sweet.

Deposit sample here

I am not known for having a lack of embarrassing things happen to me...especially when it comes to doctor's visits and urine samples at OB appointments.

When I was about 19 weeks pregnant with Claire I went in to do my urine sample as I did at every appointment. I sat down on the throne, got my little cup that I had written my name on and collected my sample. I was proud that I had gotten it in the cup with minimal spillage/getting any on my hand....oh come on, all you women know that it's almost inevitable that some pee gets on your hand, we don't have the luck of aiming!

Anyway, I went to set my cup on on the counter (on a paper towel I had waiting, wouldn't want the pee to get on the counter) and fumbled it a little. Still sitting on the toilet with my pants down I then dropped the entire urine sample in to my open pants, spilling it all over the floor and my pants, leaving not even the smallest of drops in the cup for the nurses to do their magic with. Having to tell the nurses that and explain my wet pants to my doctor were not on my list of favorite things I have done in my life. But luckily I have learned that it is better to laugh at myself rather than cry out of humiliation.

The first appointment I had for this newest little bundle I went to a new doctor (insurance reasons) where they had cups with lids you screwed on! I knew they had me in mind with this! I quickly got the sample and before you can say "don't drop your pee!" had that lid screwed on nice and tight as to avoid any spillage.

My insurance changed again when Marty left for boot camp, which put me back to the clinic I had gone to with the previous two children. I LOVED the doctor's there...but knew that with the clinic came the dreaded little plastic Dixie cup that was not known for getting along with me.

So today at the doctor's office I got myself all prepared in the bathroom to deposit my sample. I wrote my name on the cup, put a little paper towel on the shelf ready to set the cup on when finished (immediately upon finishing, no trying to switch hands EVER again). I sat down, started thinking about if the doctor would be willing to do an ultrasound, when I would get to tell Marty the gender if he did do an ultrasound, if it was going to be as hot today as it was yesterday.

Then I was done.

I had peed while my mind was wandering without even thinking about it.

I had left my cup sitting there without getting a sample.

Who does that?! Did I not go in the for the simple purpose of peeing in a cup?

I looked over at my cup and nearly panicked. I stayed in the bathroom for another couple minutes hoping there was some way I could possibly squeeze out a tiny little drop. I also considered "fishing" out a sample from the toilet, but decided the toilet water may mess up the results of whatever they are testing for.

I thought about how I was going to explain what I had done to the nurse...I had terrible flash backs of the pee spilling incident.

Then it hit me.

The nurse doesn't need to know that I already peed. I will tell her I wasn't able to get a sample and I would try again. Because I could probably pee every 10 minutes if I needed to.

I walked out and said, "I wasn't able to get a sample." She told me that was fine and that I could try again before I left. Then my nervousness over what really happened and my fibbing about it must have gotten to me because I suddenly started talking a million miles an hour "yeah, I was sitting there and sitting there going come on, come on, you can do this!" She just kept looking at me like I was a crazy person...which may not be that wrong...finally I shut up and she nicely told me again to just try before I left.

What next? Will I accidentally mistake my pee sample for a glass of water and drink it? Okay, maybe that was a little too far. But really, how can one person have such terrible luck with something as simple as peeing in a cup?

(P.S. The doctor did do an ultrasound, I do know the gender...but I think it would be a little harsh to go and publicly announce it on my blog when I haven't even let the father of the baby know...know what I mean?)

Ramblings

I'm having a very "poor me" day today....actually it started last night after a fun girls night.

Maybe it was because after watching a chick flick I wished for nothing more than my amazing prince charming to come and sweep me off my feet.

Maybe it was going to a wedding shower and answering all the questions about where Marty is, how long he's been gone, how long he has left, how pregnant I am, how I am managing to not go insane...normally the questions don't bother me, but for some reason last night it really emphasized how hard what I am doing really is.

Maybe it was coming home to a pigsty of a house with no one to lean on or support me.

Maybe it's that I had to curl up in my big bed all alone and try not to think about the empty space next to me.

Maybe it was being woken up multiple times during the night by a child who decided sleep was overrated.

Maybe it's the touch of insomnia I've had this pregnancy making it so I never feel rested.

Maybe it is because Michael Jackson died.

Whatever the reason (however, I doubt it's because of Michael Jackson) I can't seem to snap out of it.

I am CRAVING a vacation, more so than I have been craving nacho cheese Doritos every night for the last two weeks. I just feel the need to get away from the every day same old routine, be away from everything that reminds me of what I am doing without.

The problem is I don't think being alone away from home is going to help.

I feel like my thoughts are very scattered, but today, this is how I feel after my 7 weeks of doing this day in and day out. I'm exhausted, drained, emotional.

The majority of the days I have been able to put on the happy face and go along with life. But I just don't feel like I can muster that up today.

I'm sure tomorrow I will feel fine, and if not, at least I (hopefully) get to talk to Marty on Sunday for a little bit. That's what keeps me going.

Three more weeks of this.

Three more weeks until I get to see my husband again.

Three more weeks of fake it until I make it.

Mommy, wow! I'm a big girl now!

I decided it was time to start looking for flights, a rental car and a hotel for when I head to Oklahoma to see Marty for his boot camp graduation, because you can never plan too far in advance...right?

The thing is I'm in the army now whether I like it or not. And so far I've been told that the motto of the army is "hurry up and wait" so that's what I am doing. Which is apparently what everyone is doing, because I was SHOCKED to find that a couple of the hotels were already booked for those dates! Crazy people planning so far in advance, don't they have anything better to do with their time?

And so I put on my big girl panties, and called my dad for help. I guess that really contradicts itself.

You see, the two times I've been on an airplane 1. I was like 12 or something and obviously did nothing but show up after my dad had made the arrangements. And 2. I went to New York with choir in High School and just handed my money to my teacher and once again just showed up at the airport when I was told to.

So I called my dad and was like, "Hey, dad, you want to help me get a flight to Oklahoma?" I don't think he understood that what I REALLY was saying was, "Hey, dad, can I give you some money and have you make my travel arrangements and tell me where to be and what time?"

I think he's trying to finally cut the apron strings because do you know what he said? "Go to the airline's website and see what they have to offer. Then you could call them to see if their military discount is cheaper or not and book it."

WHAT?!

The nerve of my father trying to push me out the door when I've only been married for 5 years and have two 1/2 kids.

That's probably where I went wrong, I should have called him crying saying I had no idea what I was doing and then wait for HIM to offer to take care of it for me. I'll have to keep that in mind for next time.

I may have had a minor panic attack and was barely able to get out "uh, you mean I just call and tell them the dates I need to fly and ask them what the best rate is?"

Hey, I never said I was an independent person, so stop your judging.

I think at this point my dad was probably a little annoyed that I was just repeating what he had told me and that I sounded so shocked by it. He simply said, "Uh, yes."

So do you know what I did after I was finally able to pull myself together? I got online and found the flight, and then called them and yapped the lady's ear off sounding like an idiot going "So, what does THAT particular fare mean?" And "You mean that THIS fare is cheaper than the military discount? That's crazy!" She was nice, but I felt dumb.

And now I have officially booked my first flight all by myself...well, almost all by myself. Baby steps though.

The rental car and hotel went a little smoother. Although what is with all the foreign people out there working as telephone operators? I mean no offense...but come on, how am I supposed to understand if what you said was "with limited miles" or "unlimited miles"?!?

Now that I can call and make my own travel arrangements, the world is my oyster! Even if I still have to ask my dad step by step how to check in, check my bag, go through security, where I find my plane, what I do with my bags when I have a layover etc. those are just minor details.

I know how to put my credit card information in to the computer to buy a ticket, so that's really the bulk of the plans! Next month a small trip to Oklahoma, next year riding an elephant across the African plains!