Snippets from a disjointed train of thought...
Waldo is totally the third kid. C went to his very first doctor's appointment (except for the ultrasound of course) last week. Syd came too, and she got to help the doctor find Waldo with the doppler. She thought she was very, very cool. It was so adorable I almost didn't freak out at the radio silence I'm getting so used to (Not to worry. Waldo just continues to be evasive. This is going to be the baby that gets stuck under furniture.) In other exciting news, the doctor said that my sugars were "Especially high" and so we get to bump the glucose test up a whole month! I had raging gestational diabetes with Eli, and somehow escaped it with Syd. Though in hindsight I probably was undiagnosed, given that she was enormous. I'm really motivated to avoid having a twelve pound baby, and gestational diabetes does come with risks, so I'm happy to get tested as soon or as often as I need to. But the diet is such an epic pain in the ass and it eliminates everything delicious like french fries, cereal, and almost all baked goods. So I'm totally bingeing this week, before I get the results back and have to act like a reasonable, responsible adult. Bring on the orange juice!
I was IEXed (indecent exposured) today at work for the very first time, which given where I work is pretty impressive. Or more likely, the first time I ever caught someone. Such a creeper. We're literally having a conversation, like normal people, and I look down to see him going at it (I really tried to think of a more creative way to say that, but go look up "Euphemisms for masturbation" People are sick.) So I say the first thing that comes to mind, which is the uber-professional and clinical "DUDE?!" and this butt-head goes, "Oh. Sorry about that." like he bumped into me at the grocery store. So then the write-up is a whole freaking package, and I have to be counseled by several custody staff. The whole thing took over an hour. And the whole time people kept asking if I was okay. Which started to make me wonder if I should be more traumatized or feel more violated. But really, it wasn't traumatizing. Just gross and sort of pathetic. It's not like he spit on me. Or worse. Aaaannnnd, the award for most awkward and disturbing mental picture goes to...
C took the kids to the Children's Museum today and Eli came home with a sign for over my bed that says "I'm thankfull for you." Which literally made me cry. That kid is so freaking sweet sometimes. Also, kind of a sociopath. During his parent-teacher conference we learned that he'd not only snuck his DS to school, but he got it confiscated during recess. The teacher assumed we knew all this, since a parent has to retrieve the confiscated item. Except in Eli's case. Somehow this kid was able to con the office staff into letting him have it back against policy. And kept it a secret for over a month. The teacher's exact quote was, "I'm pretty sure he'll run the world someday, but first grade probably isn't the time for it yet." But on a more positive note, he's doing great academically. She said he's at the top of the class in reading and finishes his assignments so quickly that she lets him keep a library book in his desk so he won't disturb (read: distract) his classmates. He thinks this is about the most awesome thing ever.
The goal this month is to finish the month in the black. It's not going so well. And not really for any good reason. There's been a couple of awesome groupons and there's a good chance I can get our Christmas card picture taken by the photographer we like for super cheap. I obviously need a contingency fund. And to reevaluate my priorities. But yay! Christmas card pictures! So, so, so hoping it works out.
At the last minute we decided to head to my dad's for Thanksgiving. It's a drive, but I had the strongest urge to spend the holiday with family. Luckily I was able to not only get it off, but figure out that they owe me about two days vacation. So I get to go out of town AND it doesn't screw up my maternity leave plans.
Speaking of, I was writing to a friend yesterday and realized that I'm six months pregnant. WTF? When did that happen? And when did three months get so short? And why has it taken me 24 months of pregnancy to discover the awesomeness of leggings?