This week I took a Japanese Language Class and I am now fluent! Just kidding. Far from it! In fact, I think I need to re-take this class because it is HARD! It was every day for 1.5 hours around lunchtime. It was very interesting because we got to learn a little about the culture too, since they are so intricately tied together. A lot of the things my mama san does make more sense to me now.... like why, when I gave her a Christmas present (tipping is considered insulting in Japan. And you all know how I feel about tipping anyway!LOL), she brought me a bag of chips and a box of cakes the next week. Apparently giving cake means "thank you" to them, like instead of writing a Thank You card they give you cake. Good information to know. Weird, but good.
She also brought me two bags of chips the other day for no apparent reason, although the instructor explained that when you do a favor for someone it is appropriate for them to give you a small gift of food that they might think you like. Since I took her to the base pass office I guess she brought me chips for this favor. She must think we eat a lot of chips!!
The people in my "class" were really starting to annoy me though. One person asked how to say "Shut Up" in Japanese so she could say it to her husband without him knowing. Umm.... okay, lady. No one thinks you are funny. The instructor was Japanese so of course she didn't "get" it. The Japanese are very, very polite people so they would never say "Shut Up" and there is no translation for this phrase. Which she would have known had she paid attention at all on Day ONE of being on this island! Another guy asked how you would say "Excuse YOU" if someone bumped into them and they didn't apologize... again, this is cultural, they are used to living on top of each other in very little space and so do not pay attention to slight bumps in a store or what not.
The Japanese are also superstitious about the number Four, or Shi, because in their writing it means Death. So in hospitals, they do not have Room #4, you do not give someone 4 flowers, instead you would give them 3 or 5, etc. So one guy thinks he's being cute and asks, "Well how would you translate it if you were going to a funeral with four dead people?" Of course the instructor is totally confused and tries to explain it again... this guy just thinks it is funny. I just do not understand some people!
Anyway, the class was overall very good, but I will need to carry around my little book with me for awhile when we are out and about to practice. I should probably repeat the class again before going on to the Level II class. The Japanese must think we are all so ignorant - they grow up learning English in grammar school and beyond so most of them have some knowledge of our language and yet we are so ignorant of theirs. And we are guests on this island yet show such a lack of respect for their customs, traditions, etc. Living here makes you very much aware of your own culture and while I am so proud to be an American and all that we stand for, sometimes I am embarassed by our rudeness!
Just my random thoughts for the day... more to follow later. Oh, and I just got HAPPY NEWS from hubby, can't share specifics but at least there are more firm details in place now. Yippee!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
My "Dirty" Little Secret
So I'll let you all in on my "dirty" little secret... I have a Mama San. That's a Japanese housekeeper, FYI. Before Christmas, my neighbor Lisa stopped by to tell me that her Mama San had an opening, and was I interested in hiring her? Of course I said no... I would feel silly "staying home" and having a housekeeper. But my husband, who admittedly spoils me, heard all this and decided we should hire her since he will be gone so much on training exercises and not here to help me with things, and of course with the upcoming addition to the family he thought it would be helpful. Not to mention, Mama Sans are dirt cheap here compared to cleaning services in the States.
And that's how we ended up with a Mama San. I admit it is taking some getting used to. Particularly given the language barrier; although she does speak some English, there is just so much that is either lost in translation or difficult to communicate. How do you tell someone to stop hanging up your pajamas on hangers in the closet??
Anyway. In order for Japanese nationals to get on base, they have to have a "sponsor" to vouch for them. Long story short, I am the lucky winner who got to become Mama San's sponsor since we are newest to the island and therefore have the furthest rotation date.
So today we go to the "pass office" which she told me was at Futenma. There are 11 bases here on Okinawa, and each base has different offices. Camp Futenma just happens to be where Tommy works. I drop Wyatt off at Preschool and come back to pick Mama San up. We get in the car and I ask her, "Futenma, right?" She says yes. I start driving there. Now mind you, I am a little gun shy about driving around here since my accident. If a Japanese national hits you, it is still your fault and you will have to pay for it. I guess the rationale is that if we weren't here occupying their island, we wouldn't have been there for them to hit. Bizarre, but true, and it totally freaks me out.
Okay. So I am ever-so-carefully driving and Mama San is jabbering a mile a minute about something I can't understand, and then she suddenly yells "Ayee!" and motions to the left. I hit the brakes because she scared the crap out of me and look at her like she's lost her mind. She tells me, "Futenma, Futenma" and I try to tell her that Futenma is straight, not to the left. She obviously disagrees but I keep driving straight. My heart rate eventually returns to only slightly elevated.
We pass Camp Foster and she yells "Ayee!" again and motions to the left. This time it scares me so bad I actually do veer to the left and I am now very, very frustrated and not at all sure she knows what she is talking about. I know for a fact that Camp Futenma is straight ahead. I try to explain that this is Camp Foster and try to ask AGAIN her which base she needs to go to, because I have absolutely no friggin' idea!
So there is now broken English, broken Japanese, lots of hand signaling, and very poor driving happening in this car. To make matters worse, Mama San tells me she "knows" where the office is but has never actually driven there because she has no driver's license. Sweet. I'm also getting stressed out because I only have another hour before I need to leave for my Japanese Language Class. FINALLY it dawns on me that she is talking about the Village of Futenma, not CAMP Futenma. These are two very different places, and the Eastern part of Camp Foster is actually in the town/village of Futenma. How confusing is that!
She directs me to Foster Gate 5, and we drive up to the gate guard. The gate guards on the Marine bases here are all Japanese (they are going away from MP's), so I greet him with an over-enthusiastic "Ohayo Guzaiymos!" and let Mama San do the talking. All I get out of their conversation is that we are clearly in the wrong place. At this point I am getting downright mad. I consider Wyatt's time at preschool "my" time and I am getting annoyed that I am driving this woman, who I think at this point may be certifiably nutso, all over the stupid island.
I ask her if she knows where she is going and she says across to the other gate. I turn around and start driving but she says she does not know how to get there. Since I have no idea what gate she is talking about and there are like 6 of them, this is a problem. So I just drive to the next closest gate and THANK THE GOOD MAN ABOVE that this is the correct gate! Lo and behold, a clearly marked "Guest Pass" office is right there in front of us. Small miracles, friends, small miracles.
At this point I would pay a lot of money for someone to do one of 3 things:
1. Walk up and hand me a Starbucks grande iced 1/2 decaf latte with caramel
2. Walk up and hand me a glass of red wine.
3. Walk up and steal my Mama San. I don't want her anymore.
We "take a number" at the pass office and when we finally get called up, I hand the lady my dependent ID card and the lady asks me if I have a Power of Attorney since my husband is not present.
Mama San has no idea what this is, but I had specifically asked her if HUSBAND needed to attend and she had said no.
I wanted to choke her.
However, it was her lucky day. Apparently I have learned enough about this place to know that I should never leave home without a POA, so I went out to the car and retrieved the one I had stuck in there earlier that morning. All was well.
Except one thing.
Kind lady behind the desk tells me that we need to go to the hospital at Camp Lester for Mama San to be deemed physically fit and then come back to that office to get everything signed. What???? I do not have time for this!
Seriously, people. How do I get myself into these situations?!??!
So what do I do? I take Mama San to the hospital. Yes, friends, I got my Gold Star for the day. And then I told her that I couldn't take her back to the Pass Office until next week, because I had to go to my Japanese Class,and I might hurt her if she didn't get out of my car.
Maybe I'll get lucky, and I'll be in labor next Monday. Wouldn't that be just peachy.
And that's how we ended up with a Mama San. I admit it is taking some getting used to. Particularly given the language barrier; although she does speak some English, there is just so much that is either lost in translation or difficult to communicate. How do you tell someone to stop hanging up your pajamas on hangers in the closet??
Anyway. In order for Japanese nationals to get on base, they have to have a "sponsor" to vouch for them. Long story short, I am the lucky winner who got to become Mama San's sponsor since we are newest to the island and therefore have the furthest rotation date.
So today we go to the "pass office" which she told me was at Futenma. There are 11 bases here on Okinawa, and each base has different offices. Camp Futenma just happens to be where Tommy works. I drop Wyatt off at Preschool and come back to pick Mama San up. We get in the car and I ask her, "Futenma, right?" She says yes. I start driving there. Now mind you, I am a little gun shy about driving around here since my accident. If a Japanese national hits you, it is still your fault and you will have to pay for it. I guess the rationale is that if we weren't here occupying their island, we wouldn't have been there for them to hit. Bizarre, but true, and it totally freaks me out.
Okay. So I am ever-so-carefully driving and Mama San is jabbering a mile a minute about something I can't understand, and then she suddenly yells "Ayee!" and motions to the left. I hit the brakes because she scared the crap out of me and look at her like she's lost her mind. She tells me, "Futenma, Futenma" and I try to tell her that Futenma is straight, not to the left. She obviously disagrees but I keep driving straight. My heart rate eventually returns to only slightly elevated.
We pass Camp Foster and she yells "Ayee!" again and motions to the left. This time it scares me so bad I actually do veer to the left and I am now very, very frustrated and not at all sure she knows what she is talking about. I know for a fact that Camp Futenma is straight ahead. I try to explain that this is Camp Foster and try to ask AGAIN her which base she needs to go to, because I have absolutely no friggin' idea!
So there is now broken English, broken Japanese, lots of hand signaling, and very poor driving happening in this car. To make matters worse, Mama San tells me she "knows" where the office is but has never actually driven there because she has no driver's license. Sweet. I'm also getting stressed out because I only have another hour before I need to leave for my Japanese Language Class. FINALLY it dawns on me that she is talking about the Village of Futenma, not CAMP Futenma. These are two very different places, and the Eastern part of Camp Foster is actually in the town/village of Futenma. How confusing is that!
She directs me to Foster Gate 5, and we drive up to the gate guard. The gate guards on the Marine bases here are all Japanese (they are going away from MP's), so I greet him with an over-enthusiastic "Ohayo Guzaiymos!" and let Mama San do the talking. All I get out of their conversation is that we are clearly in the wrong place. At this point I am getting downright mad. I consider Wyatt's time at preschool "my" time and I am getting annoyed that I am driving this woman, who I think at this point may be certifiably nutso, all over the stupid island.
I ask her if she knows where she is going and she says across to the other gate. I turn around and start driving but she says she does not know how to get there. Since I have no idea what gate she is talking about and there are like 6 of them, this is a problem. So I just drive to the next closest gate and THANK THE GOOD MAN ABOVE that this is the correct gate! Lo and behold, a clearly marked "Guest Pass" office is right there in front of us. Small miracles, friends, small miracles.
At this point I would pay a lot of money for someone to do one of 3 things:
1. Walk up and hand me a Starbucks grande iced 1/2 decaf latte with caramel
2. Walk up and hand me a glass of red wine.
3. Walk up and steal my Mama San. I don't want her anymore.
We "take a number" at the pass office and when we finally get called up, I hand the lady my dependent ID card and the lady asks me if I have a Power of Attorney since my husband is not present.
Mama San has no idea what this is, but I had specifically asked her if HUSBAND needed to attend and she had said no.
I wanted to choke her.
However, it was her lucky day. Apparently I have learned enough about this place to know that I should never leave home without a POA, so I went out to the car and retrieved the one I had stuck in there earlier that morning. All was well.
Except one thing.
Kind lady behind the desk tells me that we need to go to the hospital at Camp Lester for Mama San to be deemed physically fit and then come back to that office to get everything signed. What???? I do not have time for this!
Seriously, people. How do I get myself into these situations?!??!
So what do I do? I take Mama San to the hospital. Yes, friends, I got my Gold Star for the day. And then I told her that I couldn't take her back to the Pass Office until next week, because I had to go to my Japanese Class,
Maybe I'll get lucky, and I'll be in labor next Monday. Wouldn't that be just peachy.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Toooogether.
Well, as you know, our family is not actually together, but I will tie in the title a little later. These last couple of weeks have made me so amazingly proud of my little man that I really had to write a post on it. Tommy has been gone and you would think that might throw a little wrench into Wyatt's life, but not only does he just seem to be taking it all in stride, it is as if he knows that I am 8 months pregnant and need him to be on his best behavior.
He has been so good, that it has me thinking that I have the best "job" in the world to be staying home with him. It is so much fun to see him grow and develop, and at this age I feel like I can start to see a lot of the rewards for the hard work we put in as parents the first couple of years. Some days I can literally see the wheels turning in his little brain as he contemplates choices and decisions and, nine times out of ten, does the "right" thing. It is amazing to me!
I am just so proud of him and feel like he is becoming so grown up. We try to teach him manners and responsibility, even at the ripe old age of two; this has resulted in him asking to be excused from the table after finishing eating, taking his plate and silverware into the kitchen to the sink, washing his own hands, and coming back to push his chair in. Sometimes he will even try to wash his dish in the sink!
When people give him something, he'll say thank you; when I thank him for doing something he'll say, "You're welcome, mom." Last night I said, "Wyatt, guess what? You're going to make homemade Ice Cream at school tomorrow!" and he said, "I'm going to listen to my teachers." This is not something I've told him ever... maybe he was told that by the teacher(s) though ;)
The other day he was in his room napping and I was in my room putting things away. I heard him wake up and begin to play with some of his toys. He played for about 5 minutes, then came out wearing his sunglasses and carrying his blankey and told me, "I'm going to the park now, mom. You can stay here, 'kay? I'll be okay." I burst out laughing, he looked so funny, and he said, "Why you laughing at me mom?" with a big old cheesey grin on his face!
This morning he woke up and I heard him call "Mama..." So I went into his room, and he gave me a big hug and a kiss and said, "Love you, mama!" Then he lifted up my shirt, kissed my belly, and said, "Hi, baby! Love you baby!" It was so sweet.
My favorite time of day is our bedtime ritual. After his bath (or lately, shower), we'll brush teeth, get our jammies on, and read a few books. One of his favorite books is a Cars book that ends with the line by McQueen..."And now we both love it here...together!" I always let Wyatt say the "together" part at the end. Then after we would tuck him in, Tommy and I would both lay by him to sing some songs and give him a kiss goodnight. Then he started putting one arm around each of us and saying, "Tooooogether!" It is the cutest thing ever. I can't wait until Tommy gets home to hear that again!
Yesterday we were inside the house and we heard the trumpet sound to signal colors. On a military installation, they do this once in the morning and once in late afternoon, and if you are outside this means that you are to stop what you are doing, face the direction of the flag, and take 3 minutes out of your life to pay honor to those who have died while the music plays. If you are driving, you stop your car. If you are walking, biking, whatever, you stop and salute. But even on base, there are many adults whose lives are "too important" to stop for colors. Yet my 2 year-old stopped what he was doing and told me, "Just a minute mom. Wait for the music." Definitely made me tear up!
I have the lucky advantage of living here in Okinawa where there are all kinds of great places to take him to, culture to teach him about, and things to do, and I am trying to enjoy all that now before baby comes and we don't have as much time to spend together. Part of me is really sad that he won't be the sole focus of my world anymore and that he'll have to share the spotlight, but I know he'll take it all in stride and be a wonderful big brother to this little baby!
He has been so good, that it has me thinking that I have the best "job" in the world to be staying home with him. It is so much fun to see him grow and develop, and at this age I feel like I can start to see a lot of the rewards for the hard work we put in as parents the first couple of years. Some days I can literally see the wheels turning in his little brain as he contemplates choices and decisions and, nine times out of ten, does the "right" thing. It is amazing to me!
I am just so proud of him and feel like he is becoming so grown up. We try to teach him manners and responsibility, even at the ripe old age of two; this has resulted in him asking to be excused from the table after finishing eating, taking his plate and silverware into the kitchen to the sink, washing his own hands, and coming back to push his chair in. Sometimes he will even try to wash his dish in the sink!
When people give him something, he'll say thank you; when I thank him for doing something he'll say, "You're welcome, mom." Last night I said, "Wyatt, guess what? You're going to make homemade Ice Cream at school tomorrow!" and he said, "I'm going to listen to my teachers." This is not something I've told him ever... maybe he was told that by the teacher(s) though ;)
The other day he was in his room napping and I was in my room putting things away. I heard him wake up and begin to play with some of his toys. He played for about 5 minutes, then came out wearing his sunglasses and carrying his blankey and told me, "I'm going to the park now, mom. You can stay here, 'kay? I'll be okay." I burst out laughing, he looked so funny, and he said, "Why you laughing at me mom?" with a big old cheesey grin on his face!
This morning he woke up and I heard him call "Mama..." So I went into his room, and he gave me a big hug and a kiss and said, "Love you, mama!" Then he lifted up my shirt, kissed my belly, and said, "Hi, baby! Love you baby!" It was so sweet.
My favorite time of day is our bedtime ritual. After his bath (or lately, shower), we'll brush teeth, get our jammies on, and read a few books. One of his favorite books is a Cars book that ends with the line by McQueen..."And now we both love it here...together!" I always let Wyatt say the "together" part at the end. Then after we would tuck him in, Tommy and I would both lay by him to sing some songs and give him a kiss goodnight. Then he started putting one arm around each of us and saying, "Tooooogether!" It is the cutest thing ever. I can't wait until Tommy gets home to hear that again!
Yesterday we were inside the house and we heard the trumpet sound to signal colors. On a military installation, they do this once in the morning and once in late afternoon, and if you are outside this means that you are to stop what you are doing, face the direction of the flag, and take 3 minutes out of your life to pay honor to those who have died while the music plays. If you are driving, you stop your car. If you are walking, biking, whatever, you stop and salute. But even on base, there are many adults whose lives are "too important" to stop for colors. Yet my 2 year-old stopped what he was doing and told me, "Just a minute mom. Wait for the music." Definitely made me tear up!
I have the lucky advantage of living here in Okinawa where there are all kinds of great places to take him to, culture to teach him about, and things to do, and I am trying to enjoy all that now before baby comes and we don't have as much time to spend together. Part of me is really sad that he won't be the sole focus of my world anymore and that he'll have to share the spotlight, but I know he'll take it all in stride and be a wonderful big brother to this little baby!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Weirdest. Day. Ever.
So yesterday was just one of those days. I don't know how or why or who chose it to be so, but it just was.
Started out fine. Did the morning routine and dropped Wyatt off at pre-school. Drove to my 36-week Dr. appointment.(!) Checked in. "Hi, I'm here for my 9:50 with Dr. Q."
"Oh.... .hmmm..." she says and goes to the computer. They are not the brightest lightbulbs so I didn't bat an eye but this should have tipped me off.
"He actually depoloyed last week. Your appointment was changed to 1:10 today."
I'm sorry. Did you just say deployed?
So now I have no husband and no doctor and I am on an island. SWEET.
"Does that time work for you? We're pretty booked. It might be awhile."
Well, I'm pretty pregnant. So I guess it's going to have to work.
I call Jen and she says she can pick Wyatt up from school for me. Great. Fine. Wonderful. I leave and run some errands. Well, sort of errands. One could call them shopping errands. One of which had me thinking I was on candid camera. I had been trying on a shirt in the dressing room of this store so I would have something to wear to my baby shower on Saturday, and when I came out, there was this uber-skinny American lady fashionizing in the mirror. She stops me and says, "Can you give me your honest opinion? I mean, really honest opinion. Does this look okay?"
I felt like a man cornered by his wife when she asks, "Does this make me look fat?"
Never in a MILLION YEARS would I try on, purchase, or even consider an outfit such as this. She's got on a spandex strappy, navy blue tank and a pair of those "stretchy" jeans that do not look like jeans, but more like a piece of rubber stretched over your skin so tight it may actually burst if you eat so much as a lollipop. The jeans are light blue with navy piping or trim. She has no shoes on. She is skinny, but not tone. This is not a good combination.
"Umm.... well, where are you wearing this outfit to?" I dumbly ask, not wanting to tell her the truth. I am hoping, praying that the mirror is a 2-way mirror and that some famous guy will jump out of it and tell me I'm on candid camera.
"Well, you know, just around," she says.
"Hmm... are you going to wear shoes?"
"Yeah, I figure I'll just wear boots over the stretchy jeans. You know, like tall boots with really high heels on them."
Of course. That would make all the fashion sense in the world.
"Yes," I say, "I think you would have to wear boots with those pants."
"So you think it looks ok?" she asks, clearly admiring herself in the non-2-way mirror.
Hard swallow. "Yeah, I think so...sure," I lie.
For the love of Pete! What am I supposed to say?!? I literally ran out of the dressing room to safety.
I head home and my cell phone rings; it is the Preschool telling me Wyatt has had an allergic reaction to something he ate. He's fine, but no further details. I go pick him up. The allergic reaction around his mouth has gone way but of course he wants to leave with me since I am there. Fine, whatevs....
I go to my NEW Dr. appt. and I happen to know him, sort of. Like Dr. Q, he lives in my neighborhood too, and his kids play with mine on the playground. Sweet. Why doesn't every doctor in my neighborhood just come line up and see my vagina?! How awkward!
We chit chat and do the usual routine stuff, then he measures me. Hmm. Seems I haven't grown any since my last appointment... which was, coincidentally, the day before my car accident. Double sweet. The concern is that I and the baby are measuring "too small." This earns me a trip to L&D to do some fetal monitoring, which turns out to be fine, but they also set me up with an appt. for a growth scan the next day (today) at 11 a.m. and a return visit to see my new Dr. to follow up. Swell.
I return home to a lack of internet and phone line AGAIN. Jen and I plow around the house resetting every electrical box, router, modem, and tech gadget we have. Eventually we bring everything back to life, but then I start getting crank phone calls. Four of them. From untraceable numbers. At the age of nearly 32.
I cannot make this stuff up, people. I only tell you what is my life.
This goes on until Jen calls me from home, telling me there is a prenatal massage appointmnet opening in 20 minutes and did I want to go?
Hell, yes. Sayonara.
Have I mentioned that Jen is my favorite person on this island? She is. She is amazing. Thank you Jen!!
After the massage, Wyatt and I had a yummy dinner at she & Kyle's house. I came home, answered more crank calls, and called it a day. A day that began and ended well, but not one I want to repeat. It was just WEIRD! How does this stuff happen to me?!?
P.S. If you are wondering - the growth scan went fine today. Baby is weighing in at approximately 5 lb, 10 oz right now so hopefully everything else is on track too. Will keep you posted. No worries, though. Everything so far is turning out fine!
Started out fine. Did the morning routine and dropped Wyatt off at pre-school. Drove to my 36-week Dr. appointment.(!) Checked in. "Hi, I'm here for my 9:50 with Dr. Q."
"Oh.... .hmmm..." she says and goes to the computer. They are not the brightest lightbulbs so I didn't bat an eye but this should have tipped me off.
"He actually depoloyed last week. Your appointment was changed to 1:10 today."
I'm sorry. Did you just say deployed?
So now I have no husband and no doctor and I am on an island. SWEET.
"Does that time work for you? We're pretty booked. It might be awhile."
Well, I'm pretty pregnant. So I guess it's going to have to work.
I call Jen and she says she can pick Wyatt up from school for me. Great. Fine. Wonderful. I leave and run some errands. Well, sort of errands. One could call them shopping errands. One of which had me thinking I was on candid camera. I had been trying on a shirt in the dressing room of this store so I would have something to wear to my baby shower on Saturday, and when I came out, there was this uber-skinny American lady fashionizing in the mirror. She stops me and says, "Can you give me your honest opinion? I mean, really honest opinion. Does this look okay?"
I felt like a man cornered by his wife when she asks, "Does this make me look fat?"
Never in a MILLION YEARS would I try on, purchase, or even consider an outfit such as this. She's got on a spandex strappy, navy blue tank and a pair of those "stretchy" jeans that do not look like jeans, but more like a piece of rubber stretched over your skin so tight it may actually burst if you eat so much as a lollipop. The jeans are light blue with navy piping or trim. She has no shoes on. She is skinny, but not tone. This is not a good combination.
"Umm.... well, where are you wearing this outfit to?" I dumbly ask, not wanting to tell her the truth. I am hoping, praying that the mirror is a 2-way mirror and that some famous guy will jump out of it and tell me I'm on candid camera.
"Well, you know, just around," she says.
"Hmm... are you going to wear shoes?"
"Yeah, I figure I'll just wear boots over the stretchy jeans. You know, like tall boots with really high heels on them."
Of course. That would make all the fashion sense in the world.
"Yes," I say, "I think you would have to wear boots with those pants."
"So you think it looks ok?" she asks, clearly admiring herself in the non-2-way mirror.
Hard swallow. "Yeah, I think so...sure," I lie.
For the love of Pete! What am I supposed to say?!? I literally ran out of the dressing room to safety.
I head home and my cell phone rings; it is the Preschool telling me Wyatt has had an allergic reaction to something he ate. He's fine, but no further details. I go pick him up. The allergic reaction around his mouth has gone way but of course he wants to leave with me since I am there. Fine, whatevs....
I go to my NEW Dr. appt. and I happen to know him, sort of. Like Dr. Q, he lives in my neighborhood too, and his kids play with mine on the playground. Sweet. Why doesn't every doctor in my neighborhood just come line up and see my vagina?! How awkward!
We chit chat and do the usual routine stuff, then he measures me. Hmm. Seems I haven't grown any since my last appointment... which was, coincidentally, the day before my car accident. Double sweet. The concern is that I and the baby are measuring "too small." This earns me a trip to L&D to do some fetal monitoring, which turns out to be fine, but they also set me up with an appt. for a growth scan the next day (today) at 11 a.m. and a return visit to see my new Dr. to follow up. Swell.
I return home to a lack of internet and phone line AGAIN. Jen and I plow around the house resetting every electrical box, router, modem, and tech gadget we have. Eventually we bring everything back to life, but then I start getting crank phone calls. Four of them. From untraceable numbers. At the age of nearly 32.
I cannot make this stuff up, people. I only tell you what is my life.
This goes on until Jen calls me from home, telling me there is a prenatal massage appointmnet opening in 20 minutes and did I want to go?
Hell, yes. Sayonara.
Have I mentioned that Jen is my favorite person on this island? She is. She is amazing. Thank you Jen!!
After the massage, Wyatt and I had a yummy dinner at she & Kyle's house. I came home, answered more crank calls, and called it a day. A day that began and ended well, but not one I want to repeat. It was just WEIRD! How does this stuff happen to me?!?
P.S. If you are wondering - the growth scan went fine today. Baby is weighing in at approximately 5 lb, 10 oz right now so hopefully everything else is on track too. Will keep you posted. No worries, though. Everything so far is turning out fine!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I Heart Technology
Except when I have to fix it. Which has been a lot lately. Which always seems to happen when husband is TDY. I am using a friend's laptop right now because, in this order, over the last 4 days:
1. My laptop died. Black screen of DEATH.
2. The Skype (U.S.) line died.
3. Backup laptop is password protected and I couldn't talk to husband to find it out because...(see #2)
4. Cable box died.
5. Repaired cable box.
6. The grill died - ignitor switch no longer works (yes I am counting this as technology)
7. The DSN (base land line) phone line died.
8. Reset some things and magically #2 and #5 work again.
9. Retrieved 5 voicemails from freaked out HUSBAND who had not talked to his 8-month preggo wife in 4 days
10. Called HUSBAND who gave me password for backup laptop, which is "our" password, which does not work so still no laptop.
11. Friend to the rescue with their backup laptop. Online again.
Seriously! How much fun is THAT!
On a different note, I took Wyatt to see the new Chipmunks movie yesterday with some friends. Watching him dance in a dark, crowded movie theater to "All the Single Ladies" with the Chipettes singing it was comedic relief for the entire weekend! Hilarious.
1. My laptop died. Black screen of DEATH.
2. The Skype (U.S.) line died.
3. Backup laptop is password protected and I couldn't talk to husband to find it out because...(see #2)
4. Cable box died.
5. Repaired cable box.
6. The grill died - ignitor switch no longer works (yes I am counting this as technology)
7. The DSN (base land line) phone line died.
8. Reset some things and magically #2 and #5 work again.
9. Retrieved 5 voicemails from freaked out HUSBAND who had not talked to his 8-month preggo wife in 4 days
10. Called HUSBAND who gave me password for backup laptop, which is "our" password, which does not work so still no laptop.
11. Friend to the rescue with their backup laptop. Online again.
Seriously! How much fun is THAT!
On a different note, I took Wyatt to see the new Chipmunks movie yesterday with some friends. Watching him dance in a dark, crowded movie theater to "All the Single Ladies" with the Chipettes singing it was comedic relief for the entire weekend! Hilarious.
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