Bad Patient, Bad Wife

I am a bad wife.

Optometry students have three components to their program: coursework, lab work, and clinic. The bulk of my hubby's time right now is being spent in coursework and lab work, but he will start in the clinic this summer. One week after my due date. We like to cram all of our major life transitions into small periods of time. Much more exciting that way!

In the mean time, the students spend hours on end in the lab, practicing all of the techniques that they will eventually use in the clinic and in their own practices. This requires actual people on which to practice. In the lab, they practice everything on each other. From testing to contact lenses to injections, they do almost everything on other students before doing it on an actual patient.

BUT, they can also bring their friends and family members up to the lab for practice sessions after-hours. And this, my friends, is why I am a big fat failure.

From day one of optometry school, I have proved to be the worst patient ever. Even when Jonathan had the most simple of tasks to test out on me at home, I would sit there squirming, blinking, dodging, and whining until he finally gave up on me. He learned pretty quickly that I was a waste of his time, unless of course his assignment was to practice performing optometry on small children with hyperactivity disorders, the mentally ill, or frantic injured animals.

This morning, he mentioned his upcoming lab practical that was going to require some practice...

"Actually, it would have been something you could have helped me with, but it is probably better that you pass..."

"Why?" I said, "Maybe I could handle it this time!"

"Well...first, I would numb your eye. Then, I would insert a lense that suctions on to your eye. And then...."

And it was all over for me. No siree. Not gonna happen.

That was just about as bad as last week's assigment: inserting tiny plugs into that little bitty dot on the inner corner of your lower eye lid.

Sick.

Is it terrible that my husband's occupation of choice totally gives me the willies? Makes me want to scratch out my own eyeballs?

I know. It is terrible. I'm a bad optometrist's wife.

But I'll tell you one thing I'm good at: every good-looking young optometrist needs to be equipped to handle the uncomfortable situation in which a female patient attacks him with a passionate kiss in the middle of an eye exam.

I'll have you know that my Doc is well prepared for that scenerio, and they don't teach that one in lab! ;)

It's Official...

Baby Boy Poe

Poe Boy

Home D. Poe

Edgar Allen Poe

Bo Poe

Oh, the fun folks have had with the future name of this little guy!

But we no longer have a need for the silly pseudonyms...our son has a name!

I just can't wait to introduce you all to our little boy,

Riggins Thomas Poe

Riggins is the maiden name of Jonathan's grandmother, Dorothy Riggins Landes, our "Mama Dot." I've written about her a few times, and have not begun to scratch the surface of what an outstanding woman she was. Jonathan and Mama Dot were extremely close--I don't know many grown men who still talk to their grandmothers for an hour at a time at least once a week--and I had the privilege of getting to know her well in our dating and newlywed years. One of our first thoughts after finding out that Riggins was on his way was the bittersweet realization of how thrilled MamaDot would have been to know that she was going to be a great-grandmother, and how sad we were to know that he would never meet her. I can't wait to tell Riggs all about his namesake, and her equally incredible husband, PapaTodd.

Thomas is the name of Jonathan's dad. This little guy is so blessed to have four amazing grandparents in his life and we were so excited that one of their names fit so beautifully with Riggins! Both of our dads share similar qualities of tremendous humility, godly discipline, and quiet strength. We pray that Riggins will grow to have these same characteristics as he follows their example.

And I can now tell you the full story of the morning that I discovered I was pregnant...

I looked at that positive pregnancy test, looked at myself in the mirror, and after a brief moment of shock said out loud,

"It's a boy...It's Riggins."

I just knew that it was him. I can't explain it. But it sure feels great to finally make it official.

(And for the record, we are aware that our nickname for him, "Riggs," is the name of Mel Gibson's character in Lethal Weapon. Apparently Riggins is also the name of a player on Friday Night Lights. And I'm totally cool with my kid sharing a name with an awesome action hero and a hot football player...)

30

Ummm....see that little ticker thingie in the column on the right?

It says that I am 30 weeks pregnant.

Holy. Freaking. Cow.

How did this happen?

Wait...don't answer that.

I know exactly how it happened.

Not blog appropriate.

*blush*

That means that there are 10 weeks left... if this guy decides to be on time or late.

It could be sooner. (Not too soon, buddy!)

Good gracious.

If 30 years of age is a milestone, then I've decided 30 weeks of pregnancy is too.

And that, my friends, calls for a cupcake.

Baby Bedding Preview!

The uber-talented Lynda Strahorn has finished our baby bedding and just sent pictures! Of course, I had to share them with you....



Lynda has been a friend of our family since before Jonathan was born, so it was particularly special to us that she was willing to make bedding for our little guy. I was going for a very classic, serene look and she was able to take all my ideas and fabric swatches and work her magic! I am so happy with the results...

She will also be making a little pillow to go on his rocker, but she is waiting to get the go-ahead so that she can embroider his name on it. And she'll also be doing a little bumper for the cradle that my parents bought him for Christmas. The girl does it all!!! I can hardly wait to pick it up at our shower in a couple of weeks and to get it all put together in his crib.

(Insert giddy squeal here).

If you live in the Oklahoma City area and are interested in beautiful custom baby bedding or home decor, I would be happy to pass along her information. She truly has a gift!

Two-Thirds

Well hello there, Third Trimester! For so long, you seemed like a distant, impossible point on the horizon. Thirty weeks might as well have been thirty years away. All the landmark dates on the calendar were but future plans.

But now, here we are. Two-thirds of the way through this adventure called pregnancy, and less than three months from bringing our little boy into the world. For my memory's sake, here are a few thoughts on this phase of pregnancy...

(Snow storm #2 in Memphis, taken at about 26ish weeks)

• Little Guy is moving All. The. Time. and is particularly responsive to loud music. When we saw Jersey Boys last weekend, I thought he just might jump out of my belly button during the climax of "Dawn" that ends the first act. And at the Step Show competition last Saturday night, his movements were noticeably stronger and more frequent when the loud, pumping hip hop music played between acts. I might have to put on BET to get this kid to sleep!
  
• I get multiple nosebleeds each day. This was one of those things that I read about in books and thought, "Well that's weird," but the books don't lie!

• My sciatic nerve has definitely been making itself known. After sitting for too long, I will stand to be greeted with a sharp pain shooting from my lower back through my upper thigh. The throbbing increases with each step but still lingers even when I'm not moving. I'm realizing that I can no longer sit in the same positions that my typically limber body has always been able to handle!

• After a month of the second-trimester honeymoon phase, I'm starting to feel the return of the fatigue and frequent bathroom trips that were common in my first trimester.

• My belly is now large enough to obstruct movement. In the middle of a conference session last weekend, I dropped my pen underneath my chair. When I bent over to grab it, I realized that I couldn't bend over far enough to reach it. I had to get up and squat down in front of my chair just to retrieve it! I'm realizing this is only the beginning of the "large, uncomfortable" phase of pregnancy...only getting bigger from here, folks!

• I'll keep this short and sweet, but let's just say that I really had no idea "The Girls" could get this large. And then I read that they too will get larger. Good gracious. How far into the alphabet do bra sizes go!?!
  
• We are making progress on the nursery: walls painted, crib assembled, armoire refinished, and furniture arranged. Now to add bedding and decor, remove hubby's desk (which I have agreed to delay until the last minute so as to not disrupt his study space!), and fill the room with all his little things! Here's a sneak peek...

(Crib and fabric swatches of bedding)

(Baby Daddy assembling the crib--don't worry, it didn't stay in the living room! Notice the Quality Control Department observing in the background.)

• Speaking of little things, shower festivities begin in two weeks and I can hardly contain the excitment. Now to work on containing the tears that tend to surface every time I get my hands on some little bitty baby thing.
  
• Which brings me to another pregnancy phenomenon: hormones. I really have not experienced the telltale prenatal mood swings until the past few weeks. Now I feel as though I am always one straw away from tears! Straw, as in the one that broke the camel's back. For example, after an off morning before a doctor's appointment, I arrived late and frazzled. The nurse took me to a new and unfamiliar part of the doctor's office, handed me my urine sample cup, and pointed me to the bathroom "down there" before disappearing. For the life of me I could not find that bathroom! So there I stood in the middle of the hallway, urine test cup in hand (empty, thank goodness!) fighting back the tears with all my might! And the surreal thing is that I am fully cognizant of how ridiculous and not tear-worthy these situations are. ("You will NOT cry because you can't find the potty...you WILL NOT cry while holding a urine sample cup...you WILL look like a crazy lady if you are found alone and crying because you can't find the bathroom!")
  
• I'm pretty sure that this guy has a name. We've been calling him one name for the past two weeks and it just feels right. If it were up to me, we would be shouting it from the rooftops, but my very deliberate and contemplative husband is still reluctant to seal the deal and commit to this name for all of eternity. Gosh, you'd think this was an important choice or something.... ;) (Just teasing, honey...take your time!)

I'm hoping to share some more pictures soon, but unfortunately now that we have a nice new camera our computer refuses to take any less than 45 minutes to upload pictures to Facebook or Blogger. I just can't win! Hope these few can satisfy you in the mean time!

I Survived.

I am pleased to announced that our delegation to the AFLV conference is safe and sound back in Memphis with not one scandal to report. Or at least nothing significant enough to merit being brought to the advisor's attention. You know what they say...what happens in St. Louis stays in St. Louis.

Or something like that.

It was a great trip overall, but I must say that one should think twice before attempting to single-handedly accompany 13 college students to a conference at 29 weeks pregnant. Between the schedule coordinating, constant head-counting, the 10-minute walk from hotel to conference center in 25 degree weather, 1 a.m. bedtimes, days packed with lectures and workshops, and nights worrying about my students enjoying the Mardi Gras festivities (hello, motherhood practice!), I am pretty pooped. The fact that I actually joined my students on the dance-floor at the closing dance might not have helped. You haven't seen college kids laugh til they're watching their pregnant advisor bust a move to "I've Got a Feeling."

That's right. No shame in my game.

But have no fear. After our mid-day return, I capped off the weekend with a 3 hour nap, a picnic on the couch with my man (good bread, cheese, and fruit trump an overpriced and overcrowded dinner out on VDay for me any day!), Ciao Bella pistachio gelato, and Olympic pairs figure skating. I'm fairly confident that I am well on my way to making a full recovery. And the gift card for an hour-long prenatal massage will cap off that process quite nicely (Thanks, Valentine!).

Happy Valentine's Day!

Laissez les bons temps rouler.

Guess which city has the second largest Mardi Gras celebration in the country?

No ideas?

Ok, I'll tell you...

St. Lois.

Guess which blogger is single-handedly taking 14 college undergraduate Greeks to the largest fraternal leadership conference in the nation next weekend?

That's right...yours truly.

Guess where this conference is?

Gee, you're smart! That's right! St. Louis.

Guess when Mardi Gras is?

Ding! Ding! Ding! Give 'em a prize... It's next weekend!

That's right folks. Please sit back, relax, and allow your mind to wander to the image of a 7 month pregnant woman accompanying over a dozen college students--who are allowed to drink if 21 or older--to the site of the second-largest bash in the nation.

Go ahead.

Laugh.

It really is funny. And laughing is probably the only thing that is going to get me through it.

That and a killer "If you make this prego get out of bed at 2 a.m. because you are in jail, you better prepare to be at my beck and call for my every craving or hormonal whim for the rest of the semester. And that's after you pay us back for every dime we spent to get you here. But you won't be making me get out of bed, because you'll be calling your mother and finding your own way home. Got it? I thought so" look.

Prayers are appreciated.

Assets for your Assets

Yet another manifesto on the wide world of maternity wear, but this time it is to give rave reviews!

You know our girl Sara Blakely, the genius inventor of Spanx? Well, out of the goodness of her little heart she has created a line called "Assets," a lower cost option that sells for around $16 at Target.

When I arrived in Colorado for my grandfather's funeral a few weeks ago, all I had was a suitcase of ski resort wear. Motherhood Maternity supplied a decent black dress, but I needed some tights for that cold mountain air. I ventured to Target's assessories section, since I can still manage to stretch my pre-pregnancy tights over my belly quite successfully. And that's when I saw these beauties...



AKA: Cheap Spanx for Preggos! They have tights, hose, footless tights, and the traditional mid-thigh Spanx-like product.



Girls, these suckers are a dream! They have just enough elasticity in the thighs and butt to give you a bit of help where you need it, and then the waistband...OH, the waistband! No squeezing, no pulling, no stretching. Just gentle support that cradles your belly with a slightly firmer band of elastic underneath.

These. Are. Awesome.

So if you're expecting and enjoy the occasional maternity dress or skirt, run out to Target and getcha some! And if you're not pregnant, then enjoy the regular old Assets at Target as well! Your butt (and anyone who walks behind you) will thank you.