Man the time is flying by.

I'm not ready to officially launch my website yet but I feel guilty not posting in so long, so here I am. I think I've got another xanga post in me! I'm hoping that my posts on my website will have a slightly different feel, and that's a lot of pressure. But xanga never judges me.

December 13th marked six years since I started this blog. Dang. Six years is a long time. When I started this blog, I was finishing up my SATs and ACTs and halfway through my senior year of high school. I hadn't truly MET Jeremy yet, and I didn't even know about the play. And look at my life now! At that moment, I NEVER would have imagined it. My life completely changed course just three months after I started this blog. I love having all of it somewhat chronicled here.

Anyways, a quick pregnancy update. I still can't believe I'm pregnant. It surprises me and still feels like something only people older than me should be doing. But I'm almost 24 and been married more than 3 1/2 years so it's a perfectly acceptable state to be in. I just feel like I'm sneaking into an exclusive club, underage and inexperienced, instead of being a real member.

Pregnancy really is not fun most of the time, but every time I feel all those increasingly stronger kicks and wiggles it is all worth it. And she is constantly moving. Even when I was sleeping the other night, snuggled up behind Jeremy, he said he could feel her kicking him in the back.

Doesn't that just MELT YOUR SOUL?!

It's the most precious, adorable thing I can even attempt to fathom. It's like she was saying, "Hey Dad! Mom is sleeping and I'm bored. Talk to me!" She is just lovely.

So I love that part. Pretty much everything else about pregnancy sucks, but feeling that little being move around inside you is just so spectacular that I already feel bad for my future non-pregnant self and can't wait to be pregnant again. And this is coming from someone with almost constant heartburn, enormous abdominal and back discomfort and pain, a general loss of independence, and terrible bladder control.

I do get to enjoy that positive aspect a lot these days though. I think she must move around in her sleep some too. It just seems like she's always wriggling and rolling. I'm not sure if she's head down though. I hope she is, or will be eventually, but if I had to guess, I'd say she's still transverse. (Laying side to side.) It's fine for now, but I'm getting nervous about her staying that way and forcing a C-section. Oh well. Nothing I can do about it.

My mindset is changing these days. The first trimester I was solely focused on not puking, relaxing, and not miscarrying--which basically equalled stressing, worrying, and freaking out about miscarrying even more. When I finally got to a point where I felt "safe," I focused on choosing all the big important baby items. I wanted to get out and try/buy them all while I was still able to get out. Now I'm finally starting to seriously think about labor and delivery. It's scaring me a little now. It's hard not to worry about all the complications that can arise, not to mention that some women and babies still DIE during childbirth. Bleh. Plus I'm still debating with myself over epidurals and other pain medications. Right now I'm still leaning towards not having them, and I don't want an IV either. I don't want to feel tied down at all. But it's hard to make any of these judgment calls without ever having experienced labor before. I'm wondering what will best help me have a normal, vaginal delivery. In my rare case, being a woman with a spinal cord injury giving birth, there are really NO resources to help me make my decision. The doctors have determined that I will feel pretty much everything too. So much for the last 11 years of living life in a wheelchair. I don't even get the benefit of not feeling labor pain! Haha, geez.

I'm trying to plan for having a newborn in the house as well. I'm starting to try and organize things, throw out stuff, and generally deep clean everything. It's a lot of work. Especially when it's getting more and more impossible to bend over and pick things up off the floor or out of cabinets or from the dryer or anywhere not right in front of me. I've been reading up on sleeping schedule techniques, feeding patterns, breastfeeding tips, etc. (I sure hope I'm able to breastfeed despite my reduction from last summer, but if I can't, I'm not gonna feel like a failure. I hope.) I did a lot of research today on SIDS as well as the best ways to lower your baby's risk for it. That SIDS is scary stuff, so mysterious.

I've poured over various lists of newborn necessities, and I'm trying to compile a list of my own of all the things we need. Thanks to my amazing baby shower, we mostly only need small things. A nursing pillow, some more full body outfits, something to swaddle with, a Bumbo, an infant carrier/Baby Bjorn so Jeremy can be that awesome dad that carries his little girl around on his chest, one of those warm blanket car seat cover things, etc.

We still haven't decided on a name. We are still liking Ariel and Olivia, but a few months back I had a dream about the baby. We were visiting with my family and everybody was calling her "Baby Abby/Abi/Abbie." I told Jeremy the next day, just for fun. And he's like, "I really like that name!" And he seems to like it more and more. I wasn't onboard at all at first, but the more he talks about it, the more I like it too. I think he makes me like it because I love that he's been so involved in this whole thing. Many fathers aren't, and so it makes me happy for him to love a name. I can't help but like it. Finally, just last week, I looked up the meaning of Abigail, and it pretty much means, "My father's joy." So you know Jeremy just LOVED that. I still think Ariel is my favorite though. Just because it's so much more unique. But we'll see. We still aren't making any final decisions until she's born, and we still love Olivia as well, but it's just so popular these days. I really have NO idea what her name will be. Not a clue. It could be any of those three or something totally different and random that we think of later. It will be a surprise for us as much as everyone else. But I like it that way. Since the gender is rarely a surprise these days, I like to save the name for last.

Last week or so we were having the name discussion and not coming up with any real leads when Jeremy yelled into my belly, "Hey baby! What do you want to be called?!" She did not answer. I suppose we should only ask her yes or no questions so that she can kick for yes and stay still for no. I'll mention that next time Jeremy is interrogating her.

We start our childbirth classes at the hospital next week I think. Hoping to learn some helpful stuff! And hoping it will help me make my decision about all the various labor and delivery options. What choices did you mommies reading this make? What would you do differently?

Click here for a sneak peek at my new website!

Can't wait to really get it going. I love it so far! There's not much on there, but I hope to add to it everyday.

I'm not sure what's going to happen to this xanga. I have no idea. I've had it for SIX YEARS. So I'm not deleting it or abandoning it completely. I just don't know what to do with it.

So this baby isn't even born yet but I'm already having the Santa Claus debate in my head. I have no real issue with Santa Claus. I quite like him actually. I don't think people are trying to use him to replace Christ or anything like that. I know there are some religious people who try to cut Santa out of their Christmas completely but I don't feel that way. Besides, the kids are exposed to Santa at school anyway. I grew up knowing what Christmas was REALLY about, and never got Christ confused with Santa. I think he's fun and helps make Christmas morning a magical event for those first few years of a child's life. However, I DO want Christmas in our home to be more focused on the Savior, Jesus Christ, than on Santa or gifts. I also don't want my kids thinking I lied to them. I didn't feel that way as a child when I found out Santa wasn't real, but I know some do and feel utterly betrayed.

I don't know if I was ever a true believer. If I was, I was to young to remember. I only remember having doubts about Santa Claus. One year a few weeks before Christmas I found a huge Barbie Dream House in my parents closet that later came from "Santa." I told my parents privately after I opened it that I'd already seen it and knew it was from them. I think my mom called me a "little snot" for peeking, haha. I know that sounds mean but she meant it with love. I wonder what she called Lauren when Lauren used a screwdriver to take off the locked doorknob to the extra bedroom in the basement where all the gifts were hidden...haha. Lauren was older then though, like 5th or 6th grade. I didn't tell mom what Lauren had done until after Christmas...but I had to make sure Lauren didn't tell me what I was getting. I wanted to be surprised! I've always loved surprises.

I noticed in kindergarten that Santa and my mom had the same handwriting and wrapping paper. (My mom covered that one well though, she said Santa didn't wrap gifts so she had to wrap them for him.) I also had major issues with why poor kids didn't get nice presents like I did. Why wouldn't Santa give them extra special gifts since they didn't get special birthdays or even basic needs met? When I finally asked my Dad if Santa was real, he said yes, and I trusted my Dad more than anyone. I asked him how he knew and he said it was because he had seen Santa as a child. I was skeptical, but he convinced me that he'd seen the real Santa. And of course, he had. He'd once snuck out of bed and caught his parents setting out the gifts as being "Santa." I didn't feel like he lied to me. Even at the time I figured he was talking about his parents. I kinda wanted to believe in Santa, but it wasn't a big deal for me. I knew my parents were just making it special for me. I didn't feel betrayed or anything. And I never had a big moment when I realized he wasn't real. I just gradually grew out of it. Pretty early, mostly because of the poor kids thing. I could swallow the idea of him riding around the world in one night, but I couldn't believe that a man as nice and kind as Santa wouldn't give poor kids a lot of really neat stuff. I think I believed in him far longer than the tooth fairy or Easter Bunny, but that's only because I never really believed in them at all. Also my mom said anyone who didn't believe in Santa didn't get presents so I played along for a while. She just didn't want me to spoil it for my younger sisters. And I also didn't want to spoil it for my parents that I was growing up. Even at five years old, I knew it would make them sad to think I didn't wholeheartedly believe in Santa and reindeer.

So for our kids, I don't think we'll make a huge deal about Santa. Maybe he will just bring one gift. Like something that an elf could have made. So no Easy Bake Oven or Barbie dolls, but maybe something handmade from Etsy. That was another issue of mine. I knew Barbie was made by Mattel. Not elves.

And when they ask me if Santa is real, I will just ask what THEY think, and make sure that they understand that it's not nice to try to influence how their friends think. We'll have to play it by ear after that.

What was your experience with Santa Claus? What kind of experience do you want your kids to have?

These days I count my life three ways:

1. In Pregnancy Weeks: 26. (Maybe 27? I'm getting confused again.)
Every week that passes is a lovely treat. It's one week closer to meeting my baby, finding out whether she looks like me or Jeremy or some other random family member, one week closer to feeling like a normal, female human being, one week closer to my body not hating me so much...I could go on. My back is getting ridiculous. Today I was only out of bed for a few hours, but the pain sent me back to bed again, begging Jeremy for a back rub. (He did...though he played a game on his iPhone with the other hand, but you know. When I'm asking for multiple backrubs a day I assume he gets bored.)

Notice I said one week closer to feeling like a normal FEMALE human being. Yes, growing a baby is seriously feminine, but sometimes I feel downright masculine. The excess saliva forces me to randomly spit into the trash can, toilet, or sink, whatever's available. I'm sure it's not attractive and I would still never do it in public or when company is over but if I swallow it, I get the burps. Burps like I've never had in my life. It's not pleasant. I'll spare you the rest of my gassiness woes. I know Jeremy would like to be able to forget. Hehe.

Did anyone ever tell you about the excess saliva or hips popping? Morning Sickness gets all the glory and these other lovely symptoms just show up unannounced.

Sometimes I think my body really does hate me. The baby has already used her cuteness to turn it against me. My back hurts, my butt hurts, my hips hurt and they are constantly popping out of place. Today my hips popped five times. And I'm a big girl. I'm tall and big boned. When my hips pop the sound is like a bone being snapped in half. It scares the crap out of me every time. I don't remember it happening hardly at all before I got pregnant. I suppose things are loosening up down there in anticipation of a baby coming out, but geez. The popping is making anxious. I suppose the same hormones loosen everything up because my shoulders randomly pop all the time too.

I get headaches frequently throughout the day. Today I woke up with one. The heartburn has become a nightly bedtime ritual. Right now my throat burns a fire that neither milk, hot chocolate, ice cream, nor Tums can douse. The worst part is my bladder. It has forgotten how to work and has turned into quite a pansy. I suppose two pounds of baby sitting on top of it and how ever many baby-related fluids are starting to put a strain on it. I can't sneeze or really laugh much at all without dashing to the bathroom. And forget coughing! Coughing is no good. So I do every trick in the book to stop sneezes, I giggle politely, and I weakly clear my throat instead of actually coughing. It works. For now.

But the news isn't all bad, of course. The little girl in my belly should be around two pounds now, and about 14 inches long. She moves, rolls, and kicks all the time! She's kicking the laptop right now, and can make it move. It's impressive. She seems most active in the morning when I wake up and at night before I go to bed, but it may only seem that way because that's when I'm in bed being still and more likely to notice. Jeremy and I were an hour late for Date Night on Wednesday because we were having such a good time watching her acrobatics. My stomach looked like an earthquake zone. I love it and will gladly put up with all the aches, pains, and discomforts for however long it takes to get her here.

2. When I Can Eat Again: The Moment I Wake Up

Food is my very best friend right now. It tastes better than ever, and I can't get enough of it. I daydream about food, I plan my day around food, I want food right now actually. I procrastinate everything so I can have just ONE MORE SNACK.

I'm extremely possessive of my food these days, especially sweets and my favorite dishes. A few weeks ago I got so angry that I cried because someone ate my last Swiss Cake Roll. At the grocery store, we had all chosen a snack. I chose Swiss Cake Rolls for myself and the boys each chose something for themselves. When I found out someone had ate it, THE LAST ONE, without telling me, I was furious. I went to the pantry, so excited for a Swiss Cake Roll, and there was nothing but an empty box mocking me. (Why leave an empty box? That's another rant.) I can laugh about it now, but at the time I didn't speak to the offender for an entire day. Even now, I hide my stash of Little Debbie Christmas Trees and Wreaths so that I know exactly how many I have and how many I'm allowed to have per week, etc. And holy crap if somebody were to eat one without asking my permission, SOMETHING WOULD HIT THE FAN. I don't mind buying snacks for other people, and I keep extras in the closet, but don't touch my personal Little Debbies! I also get extremely irritated if food is left out to go bad or stale. Don't get me started on how to correctly fold down a cereal bag or squeeze all the air out of the flour tortillas bag.

I usually bring a snack to eat in bed, and something to nibble on while I get ready in the morning. I can't eat large meals because my stomach is getting squished, but I seem to graze all day. As soon as I'm done eating I'm thinking about what I could be eating next. I never really feel full. I always feel like I could eat more, but I try to limit myself so I don't weigh more than everyone in this house combined by the end of this pregnancy. I still eat a lot of fruits and vegetables, which I think is good. I figure if I'm going to be eating nearly constantly, they better be good things. Right now I really enjoy bean burritos. I make them with 96% fat free tortillas, fat free refried beans, and 2% milk cheese. So I don't think it's too bad. When I was doing Weight Watchers the whole thing was only like two points. (I kinda miss Weight Watchers.) I also eat a lot of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup with 25% less sodium, PB&Js, and banana sandwiches with Miracle Whip. (I know half of you just threw up a little but maybe it's a southern thing? My Dad always ate them and they are DELICIOUS. Especially when the bananas are at their perfect ripeness and you cut them really thin.)

So yeah. Food, I will see you in eight hours!

3. Time Until This Semester is Over: Three Weeks

This has been a horrible school semester for me. I love most of my classes (except math) and I enjoy the university experience. I really do. BYU is a top notch school in my opinion and I feel so blessed to be able to get a top-ranked education.

However, sometimes it makes me want to die. Do the classes really have to be so hard? So intense? So stressful? Apparently the answer is OF COURSE. And my professors don't forget it. BYU classes do not play around. There's always some super scary assignment looming over my head and I always feel confused because I am missing so many classes due to pregnancy complications. They expect 2-3 hours of reading and studying outside of class for every hour in class. So if you're taking 15 credits like I am, that's at least 30 hours of outside work. Add that to my pregnancy, my wife duties, my parenting duties, little odds and ends for my family (we're pretty much their IT team,) my Disney responsibilities, and my church calling, and I'm swamped. I know I did this all to myself. I could have waited until I graduated to get married. I could have waited to get pregnant. But there were just a lot of factors and honestly, if I had to do it all over again, I'd do it the same. The last five and a half years with Jeremy are worth taking the slow route to my degree. And the baby is only putting me behind a semester. Not even a semester really. I just have to survive.

The stress is really getting to me though. Jeremy made a less than loving remark to me in the mall the other day and I just lost it. Sure, he wasn't being particularly nice, but it wasn't something that I should have gotten all upset about. But I did. Bad. I stomped (figuratively) out of the mall with tears in my eyes and we went home and had the biggest fight we've had in a long time. The whole thing lasted maybe an hour or two and we got it worked out and were totally fine and gooey-lovey-dovey by that evening, but still. I'm stressed to the max. When this semester is over, pass or fail, I will feel like the happiest little free bird. I can't wait. I just want it to be OVER. I want to be able to enjoy the holidays. Right now I can't. I can't even put up my Christmas tree because I know I should be studying and I feel guilty doing anything else. I shouldn't even be writing on this blog right now but I needed a vent.

Next semester though...I originally wasn't going to take any classes, but I really need to take one. If I don't take it, then I won't be able to graduate until April 2011. It's only offered in Winter, so if I can manage it, I think it will be more than worth it. I know the professor really well and I think he will work with me. And I will still have tons of free time. Time for nesting, time to be a better blogger, time to think about my parenting strategies and goals, time to work on my photography skills before my little muse gets here, time to start outlining and writing my novel(s). It's a lot to accomplish before the baby gets here, but I want to have that "me" time before it's totally gone.

Well I feel better, and my back has calmed to a dull ache. I think I can sleep now! Although I'm more than a little hungry by this point, I'm making myself wait for morning. Gotta take my sister to the airport. She gets to have a little trip home! Wish me luck that I don't dislocate a hip trying to get in my car...haha! Goodnight!