Saturday, February 28, 2009


Rhia's Mum and I spent part of this afternoon putting the first new coat of paint on the room that was an office/sewing room for the first several months we've lived here and will soon be Petey's room. Through the past week we (mostly Rhia) have sorted through drawers and boxes, dismantled shelves and moved desks. Once the painting is done (it will be a lovely sea green-blue), we'll set up the crib, move in a dresser and a beautiful rocking chair.

More than the colour of the walls has been changing this week. When I wrote not that long ago about how Petey would be born into a world where a black guy had always been president of the United States, I assumed he'd also be born into a world where his Dad was a newspaper man--a mild-mannered reporter.
That's not true anymore.
On Monday, I signed and handed in the papers to accept a buyout from The Herald.
I didn't want to work there anymore. It kind of shocks me to say that, because up until about a month ago, I loved my job.
I really loved my job. I think it's important work. I know I was good at it. It thrilled me and made my heart race. I loved the people I worked with, both in the office and outside.
I'm an old-fashioned guy, and I happily and naively imagined I'd do this job in this place for many years. I know by walking away, I'm basically walking away from the profession. That's really torn me up.
But really, the job that I loved is already gone.
None of that at all is the fault of the people I work with directly, but it's become a miserable place to be and I imagine it will stay that way for some time.
Some people are getting laid off. I wasn't on that list at the beginning. There's a chance I might not have ended up on it, but by going voluntarily, I'll spare the job of someone else who still wants to be there.
A big part of my decision was the way this has all cast a black cloud over what have otherwise been the happiest days I've ever known.
Talking to a friend the other night, I was saying I have a very low tolerance for being miserable or for seeing others in misery, being treated badly. He joked that that was from lack of experience. It's true: all my life, wonderful things have fallen into my lap and I've seen very few hard times. That's not been the case for him.
There were a couple moments this week when I thought, maybe I'm just too sensitive--I should be able to live with some despair and it shouldn't bother me so deeply to see others made so unhappy. That will all pass.
But I quickly shake my head and think--why would I want to be a person like that?
What kind of role model would I be for Petey if I trudged in every day to a job I no longer cared about, to an office I dreaded being in and a place where I just got used to seeing my friends weep?
I can't let "them" do that to me.
I owe it more to my unborn son to be happy than to be employed.

Having made my decision, I feel a weight off my shoulders. You can see, in the second photo where I've cracked the President's Choice dealcoholized sparkling rose, I'm happy.
I'll land in another job soon in enough. And in the meantime, I'll be more than happy to spend some time with Rhia and Petey.
And I'll have six years' worth of great stories to tell him about his dad, the newspaper man.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Still within!

We had a bit of alarm with some Braxton-Hicks gone wild on Tuesday, which resulted in spending 7 hours at the IWK over a 24-hour period. But everything looks just dandy in the end, so it was probably just my body's message that it would appreciate a bit of a slowdown in the daily activities.

And hey, we got this picture out of the deal!

Plus the doctor let the news slip about the boy parts between the legs. Nice!

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Visible belly wiggles

Saturday, February 14, 2009

So! My co-workers like me!

This past Thursday, they decided to throw me a surprise baby shower at work. They'd circulated the word and a card all through the department - all four floors! Then they scurried around all morning setting up under my nose. Until my supervisor called me into a fake meeting that she'd rescheduled... then someone else on our team came into the meeting and asked if we'd mind changing boardrooms because he was really tired of being in the little one ... anyway... subterfuge, subterfuge, then a room full of twenty people shouting "Surprise!"

They'd decorated it all up with balloons and streamers, and there were all kinds of crustless sandwiches and veggie trays and all that good stuff and then the cards and gifts.

The lovely, lovely people had collected an obscene amount on a gift card for baby stuff, and then there were presents beside that! The truly curious can check out the flickr set. Oh! There was a baby gate too! Forgot to snap that one.

We're feeling plenty spoiled - let's leave it at that!

Friday, February 6, 2009

More rational 30 week update

Things are actually going really well!

I mean... we are well into the uncomfortable stage. This belly is just hanging way out in front, and the ligaments in my low belly are letting me know about it. It's hard to sit gracefully anymore, and changing positions... well, there's grunting going on. It is a multi-step process to roll over in bed, and sometimes I need a little push to get off the couch.

But you know, comes with the territory!

Petey is a little monster in there. His movements are now visible if you catch him at the right time. I'll try to get video, because it's pretty darned funny. The strength he has now means that he can give me some right good jabs though. Sometimes mid-conversation I'll just get a punch that requires an 'ow!' Pretty funny. He's also fond of turning sideways (I think) and stretching, which can be confusable with Braxton Hicks.

I am getting more little practice contractions these days, some of them pretty intense. They seem to all be loners so I'm not worried about them.

I got weighed yesterday just because I was in there, and I'm essentially at the same weight as last week. Which is good. Because if I were gaining a lot... it would be bad news, given the rest of the news. But it is not, so la!

I am really starting to get into imagining life with a babe. I can't wait to feel this little dude's soft, soft skin and look at his(her) pretty little eyes. I am even looking forward to poopy little diapers! Speaking of which, I hope they come and friggin' fix the washing machine soon because it's time to get all this stuff sparkly clean and ready. Not to mention I need to move furniture and paint(I have recruited volunteers!) and set up the crib! I should take photos of the fancy baby tent/bed we bought. Don't know if we will or won't use it as a bassinet - it's bigger than we imagined.

We have these boxes of stuff that we don't need I unearthed while on various nesting missions and I can't decide whether to go through it and sort it for sell, offer to friends, donate, or just throw the whole shebang in a Salvation Army bin... Advice?

Also still undecided about how to use up my two pedicure gift cards... One now and one in April? Or one in April and one in summer as a baby-break treat?

I can't believe this is really happening so so so soon!

I can't believe I have to carry this thing around for another two months!

Such is the third trimester!

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Do not be alarmed!

Sorry for being dramatic with the last post. It's really not a big deal at all at this point, just a little frustrating and inconvenient. I'm not even on any formal eating plan, just a list of dos and don'ts.

I am more than certain I can live without junk food for a couple of months! Both me and Wee Pete are going to be just fine.

Unhappy week.

By now, many of you have probably heard about the layoffs at the Chronicle Herald. John hasn't been laid off, but nothing is for certain yet. Regardless, many of our good friends have been laid off. So it's a little sad around here these days.

Then there's the pregnancy news...

Last Thursday, I did the routine blood sugar screening they do on pregnant ladies around here.
I did not 'pass'. On Monday, I went back to do a two-hour test, one that required fasting beforehand.

To be considered diabetic, I'd need to be over two of three of the tests on the fasting glucose test. For the fasting state you need to be under 5.3, and I was 4.3. For the draw after one hour, you need to be under 10-someting and I was 11-something. For the two-hour you have to be under 8.9 and I was back at 8.2.

I flunked the non-fasting by a fair few points too.

To me, it seems to indicate mostly that my body doesn't deal that well with serious sugar consumption. Which I could have told them. Which is why I usually don't eat many sweets because my body doesn't like it. Anyway, I'd rather have salty snacks most of the time anyway.

What this means...

I do not have to do any insulin stuff. Thank goodness. But I do have to eat a diabetic diet which means no:

candy, sugar, honey, syrup, ice cream, sweet fruits, etc. etc. etc.

Until after the baby, at least.

It also means I have to do the fasting test again in March.

It also means they're going to be monitoring me for type 2 diabetes later.

Which is patently unfair. Not that these things operate on a fairness scale, but I really tend towards a balanced diet and eat well and don't scarf candy and...

Anyway. I'm not showing any other symptoms like weight gain or thirst or anything so it's probably just a factor of their stupid test.

But too much sugar to the baby causes a whole raft of things. Not diabetes, just like... fatness, and premature deterioration of the placenta.

So joy.

This week is pretty much fired.


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