Cranky

So I'm pretty cranky today, I'll be honest about it. I haven't really been cranky at all during this pregnancy; I've had a few times, but most of them were related to lack of sleep. I'm always aware of being cranky- it's this peevish, irritable/irritating, itch-to-bitch kinda feeling. I tend to alternate between ignoring the feeling, bitching to myself, or making peevish little comments and (sometimes, admittedly not always) either apologizing outright or explaining that I'm just cranky and bitchy. On the bright side, if I manage to be distracted by something the cranky feeling tends to go away.
I think I have a good reason to be cranky. Aside from the overall fact that I'm STILL PREGNANT and every day feels like another week all of a sudden. I'm only three days overdue, which is really nothing, and I feel like it's a horrible tragedy and I'm the tragic victim of circumstance. I do recognize that it's not that bad, and it's a 'this will probably be funny later... like, a week after baby is born, perhaps..." kind of thing.
The real reason I'm cranky is because I had a 'trial run' to the hospital yesterday, thought I might be in labour... wasn't, obviously... thought my water might have broken, but it hadn't, apparently it might have been just some sort of pool of fluids or whatever. The fact that no, i didn't pee myself, is only a slight consolation. They took some sort of swab to see if my water had broken, and I was told it would be a lot like a pap test. Well, the only similarity so far as I could see was the tools used. I've never had such a painful test! My pap test didn't hurt, it was pretty uncomfortable. This made me nearly want to cry! I was still sore for ages afterwards, and I'm still cranky now. And this makes me even crankier because of course I'm thinking, if I can barely handle a stupid test, how on earth am I gonna deal with labour? Now all my happy thoughts I had because I could wax my own legs, both of them, with barely a wince, are gone. (Last year at about this time, Crystal waxed ONE of my legs for me, and I fought and whined and it hurt a lot... and i know that the change was only in pain tolerance, because I bruised and such both then and now.)

And maybe the fact that Rachel, who is two weeks early and thought she'd be overdue, has a beautiful baby boy (visited them while we were in the hospital, what a head of hair!) and I, who figured she'd be early, am OVERDUE... maybe, just maybe, that makes me a little bit crankier than I could be right now.

I'm a big cranky wuss.

Lululemon

Yes, still no baby. Not even so much as a backache. Sorry, guys. The Husband is very dissapointed in me. However, I was not allowed to go into labour last night or today until after he gets home, because this weekend is and forever shall be known as The Weekend Our House Actually Starts to Look Sortof House-ish. (I should write titles for a living, I'm that good.) I know a whole bunch of lingo about building basements and houses, and can share with you that in the past few days The Husband and The Husband's Boss laid out the stakes, got the hole dug (which i went and saw. It's definitely a hole, I can vouch for that. It's also about twice as big as the house we're living in now.), and now today they're drilling piles, setting up the basement, and pouring. I have a vague idea of what that all means, and I'm guessing there will be a concrete basement sitting there by the end of the day. But that it won't look like one until Monday or Tuesday, when The Husband and The Husband's Boss strip the basement, which I happen to know for a fact means to take the forms down/out and tadaaa, basement. Like a more complicated version of flipping a cake out of a pan when it's done.
So, on to the topic of my title, Lululemon. I know a little bit more about lululemon than I do basements, but admittedly not too much. I know more about the actual clothes than all the wierdo yoga stuff that's behind it, enough to know that it sounds to be very comfortable workout gear, especially since the fabric is wicking, which means I wind up less covered in sweat than I otherwise might. Not being a huge fan of sweat, this is good. There are many other good points I could point out, but if you're curious you can just google.
So I've never actually set foot in a lululemon store. Admittedly, I don't even know whether it's pronounced Lulu-LEMON or Lulu-leMON. (feel free to fill me in.) I do know it's priced pretty high, so like all my recent namebrand fascinations, I decided to buy some secondhand, on Ebay.
Do me a favour, will you? Pull up Ebay in another window and type lululemon in the search.
YEAH. I KNOW. nwt? (new with tags) Forget it, still out of my price range for something I'm buying without trying on. nwot (new without tags) and even used/slightly worn? Holy crap! I've been watching a bunch of stuff for a few days now, and I won't bid more than $30 total because once my shipping gets added on it's often pretty fierce. Most things I haven't even come CLOSE to winning, and a few things I was beat by $1 in the last few minutes of the auction. Which annoys me because under normal circumstances I could totally be all over that and beat that person back out, I just forget about it. Maybe next time I really want something I should set an alarm in a cellphone or something, then run like a mad rabid elephant for the nearest computer to guard my potential item.
And the more people keep beating me out, the more badly I want to have at least one lululemon shirt or pant. Must be pretty good stuff for people to pay soooo much for it even used.

On the bright side, I went to some Mennonite secondhand store in Steinbach yesterday and scored a brand new pair of Old Navy trackpants for $4, and a brand new pair of black Mexx jeans for only $3. I know I fit the trackpants, and if I don't fit the jeans I'll hold onto them until I do. Goodness knows if I was a size12/M before I got pregnant, and I still fit all the maternity jeans and all the non-maternity skirts I have since I stopped being able to wear normal jeans, I will fit a size 34 after this thing is born. My mom told me my hips might be wider afterwards, and I told her hallelujah because I've always needed to wear a belt to keep everything up. The Husband is hippier than I am.

Today, hm? Right.

So yesterday I had my membranes swept at my doctor's appointment. I'll spare the details and explanations, suffice it to say it seems like something somebody would buy you flowers after or something. Basically it involves the doc using thier finger(s) to sweep the membranes away from your uterus or whatever, thusly releasing hormones which hopefully trigger labour in the next 48 hours. And I'll leave it at that. No labour thus far, though.
The Husband got off work pretty early and so we went to Superstore and stocked up on groceries. I don't think we've spent that much on groceries at one time since our initial stockup. But we picked up a lot of stuff that he can make (ie Mac&Cheese, Pizza Pops, Mr. Noodles, and other types of freeze-dried or prepared and frozen things) because I've heard that cooking is going to be something I really don't want to be doing in the few weeks after baby. Good to know health is still a concern. No, I'm half kidding, we always pick up tons of fruit, we're big on the good stuff, yummers.
While we were getting ready to go a woman asked when I was due, and it was funny how shocked she was when I laughed and said, "Tomorrow." She explained that it just amazes her how some pregnant ladies are out and about running errands and stuff until they day they pop. I explained that just sitting at home waiting to go into labour drives you NUTS. But still, I can only imagine how she would have reacted had I told her that I go for 20-30 minute powerwalks at least every other day, more like every day but I miss one now and then.

Due Tomorrow

So my due date is tomorrow. I've gone from being super positive I'd have my baby early, to being somewhat cynical about this whole Due Date thing overall. I'm also starting to wonder if I just have some wierd form of cancer or something, because I'm sure a baby would have come out by now. Goodness only knows it's crowded beyond belief in there. At any given time you can feel a back and a knee sticking out my front and my side. There is literally no room left for this baby to grow.
The Husband is clearly affected by this whole thing as well. He switches from trying to squeeze me like a tube of toothpaste (don't worry, the baby is fine, it's my internal organs that suffered from that one) to trying to talk the baby out, to whining about how long it's taking. This from the man whose greatest suffering in this whole thing so far would probably be the fact that I cannot eat anything that tastes like it has animal fat, and thusly do not cook anything that falls under this category, with the exception of anything BBQ-ed. Poor man, with his unclogged arteries. He suffers so greatly. Especially with the whole 'eat more fruits and vegetables' thing.
My heart aches for him.
Oh, wait, I'm pretty sure that's actually just the baby kicking me in the left lung. My bad. No pity for that man. Especially since he finds the whole baby concept so exciting he figures I should be pregnant again by this time next year.
(When the baby drops and then just keeps on growing, it allows the baby to smack you one in the hipbone and the ribs at the same time. Pretty awesome.)

On the Laundry Line

A few things for this first entry... first, I'll acknowledge that I have tried to blog before, and blogging always tends to fall by the wayside. However, as a SAHM (Stay At Home Mom) or rather, a SAHM to be (my due date is tomorrow) little bits of order and ritual have become important to me. I haven't quite gotten to the point where, for example, I have a specific Laundry Day, but that's fairly impossible as The Husband keeps ruining his work pants and is down to two pair which need to be washed on alternate days. However I do have my little morning ritual of getting up, fixing myself a bowl of cereal, and sitting down at the computer to read emails, check Facebook, and, yes, read perezhilton.com's blog, my guilty little pleasure. So perhaps blogging will fit in my morning block of 'me-time' and become a regular thing.
Secondly, the name of the blog. The laundry line is a ridiculous little thing that to me, in a way, symbolizes how my life has changed in the last year, as I got married and then, surprise! got pregnant! (The Husband had been told years and years ago he would never have kids, and felt that he had proved that fairly thoroughly to himself. I have a SuperUterus.)
Previously, I never hung any laundry to dry. My theory was, if it wasn't tough enough to handle the dryer, I didn't want to wear it anyways. On occasion I would hang sheets to dry, but that was more for That Smell - you know what I'm talking about, the Fresh Off the Line Sheets smell you relish for the first time every spring. Due to my Theory of Laundry, I (and The Husband) lost a few good clothes along the way. No big deal, though, as neither of us ever really spent much on clothes anyways. I believe in dressing well, but I have always been a discount sort of person.
Now, if you've ever been pregnant, you'll know what happens to your clothes. Aside from the fact that your supply of clothing doesn't fit anymore, the clothes you buy to replace them suddenly cost an arm and a leg. Perhaps the prices are so high because the retailers have the best intentions, teaching you how to budget like mad as your finances suddenly take a nosedive with a new baby. Regardless, your clothes are expensive, and most of them are at least somewhat stretchy. None of them are supposed to go in the dryer.
The two most ridiculously expensive Plain Old Regular Tshirts in Basic Colours hit the dryer. They both came out pretty much fine, except thier necklines were warped beyond belief. From here, my life slowly changed. To cut this long entry shorter, I gradually came to realize how great it was to put clothes on the laundry line. Although I didn't have the instant satisfaction of dry clothes up to an hour after putting them in the dryer, suddenly I found that new clothes were no longer hitting the dryer once and coming out warped, or shorter, or longer, or tighter, or baggier. No, they came out the Exact Same Size that they came in. And decals and logos and whatnot on tshirts no longer crinkle and warp. The longevity of our clothes has been increased tenfold, and the need to buy new ones to replace faded or poorly-fitting ones has vanished. (Now I just need to buy The Husband new work pants every other week to replace the ones he's shredded)
I don't know if that story really makes any sense in relevance to symbolizing how my life has changed to anyone but me. Perhaps other first-time moms will get it while nobody else does. It sort of has to do with a sudden sense of pride for chores well-done that I used to do only because I really, really, really had no other choice (ie down to Laundry Day Underwear, or out of counterspace because of the pile of dirty dishes.) I have always hated doing housework, and while I don't necessarily relish it now, I do it regularly and I take pride in doing it well. My chest puffs up over an empty laundry bin or a sparkly-clean kitchen or bathroom. And I know full well if you had told me I would say this a year ago, I would have laughed in your face. (Not to mention I would have informed you I Do Not Do Dishes, and The Husband and I have an agreement that as long as he does dishes I will singlehandedly do every other chore in the house despite the fact that we both work fulltime, because I Do Not Do Dishes.)

I hope my entries won't always be this long-winded. I also hope I don't always go on about how great my laundry is. Because I do still think that's really lame. My iPod shuffle is still way cooler than my washer and dryer (and laundry line)