November showers bring...

Lots of stuff.
Specifically, lots of baby stuff. So I went home this weekend for a shower with my mom's friends. We had a really nice time. Good to see everyone and they went a little overboard. I now have another huge pile of stuff in the living room that we need to go through and wash, and of course write thank-you notes for.
Side note: I do have the thank yous from the last shower done, I just don't have stamps. And how often do you go to the post office these days? Exactly. I just need to get my butt to the post office at a time when it is open and they will be in your actual mailboxes. Novel idea when you think about it.
So, shower was good. Managed to catch up with a high school friend as well.
And then I brought home some Christmas stuff. I say some. My mother was a bit of a collector. Collector of many thing, including Christmas decorations. We have enough to decorate each room in the house like it was the ONLY room in the house that we wanted to decorate. Now the challenge was/is digging it all up. Many boxes all over the house. Some labeled, some not. But dug we did and managed to find stuff that I would want in the house for the holidays.
So between the shower gifts and the Christmas decorations the Mom-mobile was totally stuffed.
And like I said, it now all sits in my living room awaiting some sort of organization.
And here I sit, watching TV, sorta doing laundry and not doing a thing about the large pile of stuff that is cluttering my living room. Hey -- I have Wednesday right?

Ok - dryer went off and I am sure there is another load of laundry floating around this place somewhere.
Now Watching: MNF or Law & Order

Oi Oi Oi Oi

So last night was the Dropkick Murphys show.
It was as one of my friends commented, like "a really INTENSE St. Patrick's Day celebration"
And that it was.
Loud. Punk. HOT. Mosh-pit filled. Body-surfing. Stage Diving. Copious amounts of booze. More than 10 guys in kilts.
All with bagpipes in the background.
Your run-of-the-mill-Wednesday night at our house.
Or not.
But we had a good time. It was one of those rare shows where the male-to-female ratio was easily 2:1, maybe even 3:1. Such that there was a constant line out the mens bathroom door and I was able to walk right into the womens room without any wait. And several times, that wasn't just a one time occurrence.
And for a Irish punk band, that is what you would expect.
Two observations on the night.
I could offer up a whole slew of them, but will keep it to the highlights:
1. We ran into a number of Joe's high school acquaintances there. People he knows casually and of course, didn't know he was having a baby. Try as you might, 7 month pregnant chicks tend to stick out in a crowd like that. And one of his buddies -- who clearly was having a good time -- at one point called me "Mrs. McConville"
Hit the brakes on that one. It was just so unexpected and well, that is his mom, not me.
It was weird.
2. As I mentioned, the crowd had the potential to get a little rough. Now, the venue is set up such that there is a whole section of tables etc, that runs parallel to the open floor. And its the open floor where all the mosh-pit/slam dancing action was taking place. So I was well removed from the action, but could still see the stage. And thus, out of harms way of flailing arms, legs, elbows or drunk people. But every time Joe would walk away from me for something -- he would tap one of his buddies with the "keep an eye on her" message.
Now, while actually somewhat endearing that he cares and is looking out for me, give me a break. Nothing is going to happen to me sitting at a table 100 ft from the crowd.

All in all, great show. Glad we went. Trying to get as much as that sort of stuff on the calendar before January. Figure my days of live music are somewhat short at this point. Which saddens me just a bit, but thems the breaks.

And as a reminder to my loyal readers, I love my job. Love it. LUUUUUV it.
Lets just say, an angry, punk crowd was right up my alley last night.

Now Listening: Pablo Honey by Radiohead

And the answer is ....

Three.
Not 42.
- that was a Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy reference for those of you not in the know.

The question then ....
How many actual birth videos did they plan on showing us in our birthing classes to freak us out?
And last night was the big night. After 4 weeks of breathing and assorted position practicing -- they hit us with the big dog.
Birth videos on a large screen.
Whee.

I mean yes - we have all seen something approximating a birth on TV - anyone who is a cable geek like me has stumbled across one or two on Discovery, National Geographic and the like.
But here it was. Large and in charge.
So we made it through and then at the end of class, the instructor, who is actually quite nice and fairly entertaining -- decided to bring us back from all the physical aspects of the class and focus on the emotional/spiritual aspects of birth.
Great.
Like I need to get in touch and share that sort of thing with 10 perfect strangers. Strangers that the only thing we have in common is that somewhere around the same time last spring all of our eggs decided to firmly plant themselves somewhere in our insides.
So they queue the birth video (this time with 3 new characters -- 3 must be a lucky birth number) and then she turns on the CD.
There is no dialogue. There is no sound -- just a sound track.
So we got to watch all the laboring portions of the video timed out to Because You Love Me by Celine Dion, complete with footage of horribly tuned-in, uber-attentive husbands massaging, rubbing and holding their beloved. And the actual birthing portion of the tape to You Are So Beautiful by Joe Cocker. Do I need to say more?
And yes, my ears were bleeding AND I threw up in my mouth.
I couldn't speak for a good 2-3 minutes after that. Joe just kept looking at me and shaking his head.
The best part -- we have two classes left. I have no IDEA what is in store for us at this point.

Small milestone today. We are officially 8 weeks out from our due date today.
I am going to celebrate by going home and digging up my copy of The Greatest Love of All by Whitney Houston and putting it on repeat.
Oh wait. I threw that out after 8th grade.
Dammit.

Well - at least its a post

Hm. I feel like I should have lots to share today -- but not so much.
Work is loco. My boss gave his notice yesterday, so this opens Pandora's Box for the work place.
Without going into a slew of meaningless detail for most of you it comes down to this --- do I apply for his job or not? It would be a shift in responsibilities (obviously). But 1) do I want those changing responsibilities and 2) do I want to do it now when I would get the job and then basically disappear for 3 months?
Much to think through.

Had what is getting to be the routine dr's appt today.
I have gained another 2.5 lbs. Those numbers on the scale are starting to eek into not only uncharted territory but SCARY territory. At least for me.
My ever-expanding belly is measuring out at 33 CM -- which is a little large for 31 weeks, but not overly so.
And the little leprechaun was kicking away at a healthy 144 BPM for a heart rate.
They also went ahead and scheduled us out for the remainder of our appointments. After mid-December, we go EVERY week.
I mean, we knew this was coming -- but man alive. So we are all booked up with the last scheduled one on our due date.....
Ok - much work to do.

Now Listening: For once, nothing. My ear buds frazzled out and haven't gotten new ones.