Like a crenshaw melon

by Marilyn on March 11, 2008

Crenshaw melonCan I just ask WHAT is a crenshaw melon?  I’ve never even heard of one before.  But apparently (according to the ever-helpful BabyCenter development newsletter), that’s about how much my baby weighs right now.  They’re really committed to these fruit comparisons, aren’t they?  I mean, at first, I saw the merit.  The size of the baby was a mystery to us and having a well-known visual to apply it to gave us a good idea.  A raisin, a kiwi, etc and so forth.  But by now, most of us have got to figure this baby is pretty much the size of… a baby.  Maybe a smaller baby, but STILL.  We get the idea.  So when I get these weekly emails, I’m often left more uncertain of what exactly the fruit describing my child this week is and less about the actual dimensions of my child.  Anyhow.  If you ever wanted to know what a crenshaw melon was, well, there you go.

It has not escaped my notice that a) yesterday was officially TEN DAYS until this child is born and b) today I am 36 weeks along.  Next week, ya’ll.  NEXT. WEEK.  I think I just felt my heart skip a beat as I was writing that.  I feel like I’m riding on some sort of razor thin high-wire right now.

On the one hand, I cannot wait for this baby to be born.  I’ve officially reached the point in pregnancy where I’m sick and tired of being pregnant.  Sleeping at night is getting more… interesting.  It takes me at least a good hour to fall asleep, and it doesn’t matter how tired I am when I lay down either.  Then, when I *do* fall asleep, I have crazy dreams all night long.  Last night, I had the distinct impression that they were heavily influenced by “The Legend of Billie Jean” which we watched on On Demand before we turned in. (NOTE: I do not recommend this movie unless you are fully prepared to indulge in the ultimate in 80’s cheesiness.)  I’m fully surprised they didn’t turn into nightmares based on that fact alone.  Plus, I think I’m getting a cold.  My throat has been sore all day and my congestion has officially gotten out of control.  I’d like to think that the sore throat is merely because I snored so heavily all night long. (Really, I would.) But I have my doubts.  Walking, as you’ve noticed on this blog no doubt, has gotten downright difficult.  I get heartburn after I eat just about everything.  I’m spending a lot of time feeling like a giant, unattractive whale.  So yes, I am ready to be done here.

I also cannot wait to meet this baby.  All of her hiccups and kicks and wriggles are like little teasers about what she’s like.  I want to see her little face, see who she looks like, touch her soft fingers and smell her sweet head.  I cannot wait to dress her in some of the absolutely adorable outfits I’ve been going through the last several days.  I want to introduce her to the boys and take a picture of Harry holding his baby sister.  I’m so anxious to get on with this next part of our lives.

On the other hand…

I want to slow time down, enjoy every last little moment while I still have the chance.  Things are going to be different around here, I know that much.  I want to enjoy Liam while my attention is undivided and have plenty of special moments with him in the next week.  I want to have more time to get all the little things done that I’d like to have done.  I feel SO MUCH BETTER now that the major things are all finished, like moving Liam into Harry’s room and cleaning out the inside of the van.  But it would be nice to have the nursery painted and the wallpaper border put up.  Same goes for the window valance.  We should probably clean the house as much as we can, steam the carpets, give the kitchen a thorough cleaning, etc and so forth.

This is also my last pregnancy.  This is it.  No more.  I want to cherish every little kick and, yes, even every Braxon Hicks. This is almost over, I’m closing the book on a chapter of my life here.  It’d be hard not to get a little reflective and wistful.  I don’t want to rush it.  I want everything to happen in the time it’s meant to happen.  I’m excited and apprehensive and happy and sad.

It’s gotta be those hormones.

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The Littlest Big City

by Marilyn on March 11, 2008

According to Kile’s standards, I’m a “city girl”.  I was born in a fairly large metropolitan area, around the hustle and bustle of busy freeways and crowded malls and urban landscaping.  I think I great up in a rather suburban area (the extreme southern end of San Jose in California), an area replete with golf courses, strip malls and snooty public schools.  I think it’s not entirely “city” but I can concede that perhaps I was more accustomed to urban environments than he was growing up.  I knew about homeless people, crime rates, gangs and graffiti and San Francisco’s mass transit system.  On the other hand, I see him as a “country boy”.  He grew up smack in the middle of Wyoming.  Which, if you’ve ever been to Wyoming (and the little corner that houses Yellowstone and Jackson Hole hardly count), should tell you what you could expect to find there.  NOTHING.  Now, I don’t want to bag on the place because I found it perfectly pleasant when we visited there several years ago.  But it wasn’t like anything I was used to growing up either.  For one thing, the town was located on an Indian Reservation and literally had a main street where all the primary businesses were located.  The whole thing is surrounded by ranch-land and well… nothing.  Nature.  This and that.

The whole point of this is that there are these commercials on television here done by the Fallon Auto Mall.  Fallon is a teeny little thing located east of here and (I’m sorry to anyone who might read this blog and is from Fallon, but…) that town gives me the heebie jeebies.  Not the sort of place I look to be spending a lot of time.  I’m constantly teasing about their high school mascot (the Fallon Green Wave… the “Green Wave” refers to the fields of alfalfa that are grown nearby and I’m sorry but how is that the LEAST BIT INTIMIDATING??).  There isn’t much there, outside of their “auto mall” where they purport to sell cars without the pressure and high prices of the dealers here in Reno.  Now, I don’t know if that’s true or not, but the commercial says it’s so.  And the commercial keeps referring to the Reno dealers as “Big City Motors”.  Uh… WHAT??

Reno at night

Now, I guess, next to FALLON,  Reno would be a bigger city.  I guess I can agree to that.  But, categorically, a BIG CITY?  I don’t think so.  Not by a long shot.  In fact, I would hesitate to suggest that any city here in the great state of Nevada would qualify as being a “Big City”.  And yes, that includes Vegas.  But then, there’s a Reno/Vegas feud going on and I can’t resist digging at Vegas a little bit. Anyhow.  My point is: Reno is NOT a big city.  I’ll give you that it’s a city.  And I feel that is being rather generous.  But big?  Bigger, but not big.  Kile is far more likely to agree with Reno being a big city, but I hardly think his vote counts since he is a “country boy” as I mentioned before.  Even having lived here for almost fourteen years, I still can’t think of this place as being a big city.  I mean, for one thing, we still lack an IKEA store.  SERIOUSLY?  We have a Cabela’s and will soon have a Scheel’s, plus we already have a Sportsman’s Warehouse and an REI and about a bazillion other sporting goods stores but we have NO IKEA?  How is that fair?

Somehow, we also only have two Target stores.   And one of those stores is a Target Which Will Not Be Named.  It’s located in a not-so-good neighborhood, is small and dirty and unorganized.  I don’t think I know anyone who ever goes to that Target.  It’s just not spoken of.  So that leaves ONE Target store.  It’s a larger store, thank goodness.  Much better location (though still too freakin’ far from where we live for my liking) and generally a joy to shop at.  I’m thinking we could use another Target or two, don’t you?  And how is it we only have ONE Sephora store?  And that it moved from MY mall to the snooty, high-falluty mall way south of town?  Can we have two??  We have two In n’ Out Burgers, I think we can support it.

You know, not that I’m bitter or anything.

So yeah.  Reno is so not a big city.   Not even close.  Sure, we’re getting more crowded all the time, the roads are getting more jammed and more shopping centers are popping up all over the place… but it’s still not a big city.  And I’ll argue to the death anyone who tries to tell me it is.

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