What have I been doing? Oh, you know....
Supporting my husband and the musical he is performing in (Assassins) by going to every performance for the last two weeks (except last Sunday's matinee - I wasn't feeling well).
Watching three days of rehearsal so that I would know the show and lighting for when I photographed 2 days of dress rehearsals. The photos turned out awesome, all 200 of them.
Talking to my parents nearly every other day.
Getting over morning sickness and embracing my need for very small meals 10 times a day. OK, ten might be an exaggeration.
Picking out a ton of maternity wear from catalogs. The preggo belly has started to surface and I'm getting super tired of wearing the same pregger jeans every single day.
Trying not to stress too much when some ass fraudulently used our bank card number and cleared our account completely. Yeah. Luckily it was just a few days from payday and there wasn't much to steal, but still. The good news is we've already been refunded part of it. I guess Wells Fargo isn't as bad as I said they were.
Having our last appointment with our specialist in Thousand Oaks. He gave us the all clear to start going to our doc on Bako now that he'd seen the heartbeat a total of three times and we all got to watch the baby move around and put it's hands to it's face. We got a video of it and I've only watched it five times. Really.
Going to our first prenatal appointment with the doc friends said I would think was hot (Not hot. Not to me anyway. But I only have eyes for Daniel...so whatever.) and who I was supposed to just love. I didn't love him. I don't think I really even liked him. Now, we might have caught him on a bad day. He may have been rushed. I'm sure he is a fabulous doctor, but I think I want to see if we can find a better fit for us.
- I got hormonal and started crying in the exam room (just out of nerves). When he came in the room he acted like everything was normal.
- He was condescending. "Am I sure August 18th was the first day of my last period?" "Am I sure the conception date was September 4th?" Yes. Yes, I am sure. I've sort of been keeping track of the minor details for the past year.
- During the exam, he failed to warn me before he proceeded to do things. It might just be a personal thing (and the doc in Thousand Oaks probably spoiled me forever as far as this is concerned) but I like to know when the doc is going to start doing things like say, pushing at my breast. There were other things he failed to warn me about, but I'm sparing you all details.
- He rushed the ultrasound. He acted put out by the fact that I wanted to be told how big Zocon had gotten. Oh, and during the ultrasound the door was ajar. Ajar! Now some might say that I should give up my modesty...not too far in the future I will be giving birth, but please. I want the door shut. Is that too much to ask?
- He just wasn't Dr. B. Doctor B. was so great, and understanding, and comforting.
Craving things so bad that when I finally get them, I practically devour them like a wild animal.
Having the most vivid dreams I have ever had in my life. Good ones, bad ones, scary ones. In my dreams I am always hugely pregnant. Most dreams are some sort of disaster that I have to save Daniel, the dog children, me and Zocon, or the entire world from. Last night I saved the world from terrorists. It seems in my dreams I am some sort of superhero - Pregnant Keely to the rescue! Apparently, being pregnant has given my subconscious delusions of grandeur...and it's exhausting. I much prefer the dreams where I am shopping for baby clothes or hearing first words.
Planning a birthday party for a theatre pal.
Relaxing. Cuddling with the husband and watching movies. Taking naps. Looking at my house and trying to figure out where to begin first as far as organization and cleaning go. Etc. Etc. Etc.
And that's my activities in a nutshell. I'll work on posting more frequently. Girl Scouts honor.*
* Tangent - I should probably take that back since I was asked to leave my troop....troop 298? When I was nine I got into an argument with my friend who was the leaders daughter and asked to leave my troop. However, while I was a Scout I was a model one. I had all sorts of patches on my sash and vest...and one year (with the help of my mom) I was the top cookie seller and won a trip to Disneyland. OK. Tangent over. Carry on.