The Top 3 Things I Thought Would be Cool About Pregnancy

Ok, so when I was imagining being pregnant, before I was pregnant of course, I always imagined it as this awesome experience, and I was super excited about a few things. I suppose everything is much different in imagination land (or at least things are ALWAYS different in my imagination…) so not everything was exactly as I dreamed it would be. Here is what I was pumped about:

1.       The Clothes: I thought maternity clothes would be awesome. They always make the mannequins in the Thyme store look so cozy, fashionable and gosh-darned cute! When I saw them, I always said “I can’t wait until I am pregnant so I can shop there!”.  Also, it helps that the mannequins are perfectly proportioned with large, ample bosoms and a small, cute baby bump. No cellulite, of course. Just perky bums all around. I am still a little happy about mat clothes, but it’s not exactly for the reasons I envisioned before I got knocked up. First off, the cute little outfits in Thyme? Yeah, they cost a heck of a lot of money. And those are mid-range mat clothes. Also, the quality is not that stupendous for many mat clothes unless you are willing to pay a lot for them. Which I am not, as I will only be wearing them for a few months anyway. Also, all of the maternity pants for work seem to be made out of a stretchy, shiny fabric which means you can see EVERYTHING. Even if I wore a g-string with these pants, it would be clear as day. What the heck?! Why on earth would someone think a pregnant woman would want pants that accentuate the thigh/bum area? Even if you are a skinny super model, this material would make you seem nasty. However, there are some good things about maternity clothes. First is that there are tons of sales, and nothing makes me feel superior to the world than getting a steal of a deal on some overpriced clothing. Second is that they have these stretchy panels on the pants, and no flys or buttons or anything. So it is basically like wearing sweat pants all. the. time. It’s awesome. Also, it is kind of awesome when you start showing to have little outfits that show off your belly. As long as the shirts are long enough to hide the tight and shiny going on in the bum area…

2.       Excuse to do Anything: So, with all the stories that come with pregnancy, I thought I was going to get a free ticket to misbehave and be a demanding diva for 9 months. Not so. I haven’t really had any cravings or aversions at all, so I can’t send Hubby out to get Jamaican Me Crazy Ice cream, Cheese Doodles and Doughnuts.  And I can’t yell “PLEASE, take that chicken away or I will THROW UP!” all dramatic-like. I can throw up a lot though, just not because of certain food. It’s for no reason at all. Also, I have not had very many crazy mood swings, so I can’t be all diva like there either. Pretty much I am just a fatter, pukier version of myself. No drama or antics at all.

3.   Having people notice that you are preggers: I thought that this would be the best part. People would see you and smile and be so happy for you. They would go out of their way to make things easy for you and little birds would follow you around singing and helping you with chores. This is soooo not the truth. First off, in the 1st trimester I felt the worst. So incredibly exhausted and pukey and bloated and pretty much the worst ever. However, no one can tell you are pregnant, so you just look nasty and act nasty and you get no sympathy unless you have told people you are expecting. No one gives you their seat on the crowded train, no one smiles and there are definitely no birds. It’s more like people try and avoid you, but that’s because it looks like you just had a 3 day weekend with Jack Daniels and you are trying not to throw up all over them. Now that people know I am preggers, and I am starting to show, I find that attention from people is not really all that wanted. Most of the time people are happy, but they all ask the same questions, so you have to be happy and excited all the time, even if you still feel like puking any minute while answering for the 20th time that day if it is a boy or a girl and when you are due. These people are generally sweet and nice, and it is what I envisioned before I was pregnant, I just didn’t anticipate the fact that I don’t want to talk about being pregnant 24/7. Also, there are these people that exist out there who are waiting to give you unsolicited advice. They think you can’t actually function without their input. How you got this far without them, I don’t know. But they are your saviors. They do things like tell you about what’s good for the baby, and how you shouldn’t be drinking that, or eating that, or that you are doing everything wrong. If you breath, the baby will be disturbed and he will come out with 8 heads. It’s true. I heard about it on Dr. Oz. If you reply like you want to reply, then you are a bitchy preggo who needs to control her hormones. If you smile and take it, you want to explode and eat off her head, and I know THAT can’t be good for the baby. I have yet to have had to bring out the snide remarks, but I will. I have been looking for some good ones, so that I have standard responses to stupid comments. I know people are well meaning, but still. People need boundaries.

Those were the 3 major expectations I had for pregnancy. Obviously, the reality has been a little bit different. It has been a wonderful and exciting time, but it’s not exactly how I pictured it. Of course, I do have a problem with matching reality to my expectations in most areas of my life, so why would pregnancy be any different?

This week means we are about halfway through this whole journey, and that is so exciting, and a little bit scary at the same time. To think back on when I saw that plus sign seems like it was a million years ago. At the same time, thinking ahead to actually having the baby seems incredibly intimidating, and I wouldn’t mind if the next 20 weeks feel like forever as well…although I might be singing a different tune when I am as huge as a whale and my ankles are the size of tree trunks…guess we will have to wait and see!

General Happenings on the Long Weekend...

Life after finding out the gender has been interesting. It was a fun experience, and I am glad we did it. But it is a little strange. Before there were 2 possibilities, and we planned for both. We thought of what would happen with a little girl, and what would happen with a little boy. Now we only have the one option. Not that that's a bad thing, it's just an adjustment. I actually think this would have been much worse if we went through the whole pregnancy, especially if we started really leaning towards a girl, and then found out it was a boy. So I am glad we have the time to prepare now.

Also, it makes things like names much easier. We had already narrowed boy's names down to a few choices, whereas the girl's names we hadn't even began to narrow anything down. So that's sort of a relief. Also, we can start to plan the nursery, which will be fun.

In other news, Kitty's claw covers are starting to come off now. So she has like 2 razor sharp claws on each paw, and she is trying desperately to destroy the couch with them every chance she gets. It is driving me CRAZY! She totally does it on purpose too. She looks us right in the eye and then starts to scratch. Like she is daring us to do something about it. Just yelling at her isn't enough of a deterrent now. It's like she knows we won't actually do anything but make loud noises. So, today I had had enough, and after she tried for the 4th time in 2 minutes to scratch the chair, I tried to a) throw something at her and b) get up and chase her.

Hubby was sitting on the couch playing Nazi Zombies on Xbox live with certain friends and he felt it necessary to have a running commentary which sounded like this: "The wife is getting mad at the cat. The wife if throwing things at the cat. She missed and hit the Xbox. The wife is now trying to chase the cat, but the cat is much much faster than the wife. *insert comment from Hubby's friend here* Yeah...she's not as quick as she used to be". Nice. Yes, I am getting rather chubby and awkward, but I am growing a tiny human!! AND, I am trying to discipline our unruly cat. What is HE doing? Sitting around and trying to kill Nazi Zombies with his buddies...if there were actually Nazi Zombies running around, and his actions helped to reduce the population of said zombies, then I would understand. But this is obviously not the case...

The things we pregnant fatsos put up with...sigh.

Drumroll please!

Well, the results are in! We had a great ultrasound, and we know the gender now!

First off, the ultrasound went great. We had a great tech, and she agreed right away to write the gender down instead of telling us right there. Peanut was squirming around like crazy in there, especially when that "What is Love?" song came on the radio. I guess Peanut loves 90s dance tunes. It truly is our baby...

We also found out that the placenta is in the front of my tummy, which explains why I haven't really been feeling any kicks or movements from the baby yet. I had suspected, but it's nice to have the peace of mind to know that there is a reason. Also, with the amount of dance moves going on in there, maybe I am lucky I don't feel anything yet and I can catch up on some sleep while I can...

So, we held back and put the paper in an envelope and headed out to the Greek restaurant where we had our rehearsal dinner for our wedding with my Mom and Dad. Dinner was DELICIOUS...as usual! We opened up the envelope and...

SURPRISE!!! Peanut is a BOY!

So looks like I will officially be outnumbered in our house now. 2 Oilers fan to 1 Flames fan. Although we haven't figured out Kitty's hockey allegiance yet. Maybe we need some sort of loyalty test for her, and then maybe the odds will be even.

Boy or Girl?!

So, we are about 5 days away from our anatomy ultrasound on Friday. At this ultrasound, we will hopefully have the chance to find out the gender of our little Peanut! It's really exciting, but at the same time a little strange...it will really make this whole pregnancy thing seem super real. It's not just a little Peanut anymore, it's a little boy, or a little girl.


Firstly, I suppose I should say, yes, we are going to find out. I know people are really divided on this issue. A lot of people would rather keep it a surprise. Our take on it is this: It is still going to be a big freakin surprise on Friday. We have no idea what it is, so when we find out, how exciting! Plus, we would like to be able to prepare for the baby's arrival and it seems a bit more personal when you already know if it's a boy or girl, or at least it does to us. Also, our whole house is painted lemon yellow and mint green, and I hate it, so gender neutral colours are not high on my list of things I like. And lastly, Hubby and I are having a heck of a time trying to find names. At least this can narrow the field by 50% and increase our odds of finding something that will work.


We are unsure as to what we think Peanut is. At first we both strongly felt baby was a girl. But in the last couple of weeks, I think I have swung my thinking and starting assuming boy. Maybe this is some subconscious way of trying to even out the expectations so we are just overjoyed at the news, and not disappointed. Not that we would be disappointed, far from it. We are just hoping for a healthy baby, whether it's a boy or girl is sort of the icing on the cake, you know? But still, I can see if we assume the baby is a girl, and it turns out to be a boy, that we will have that first instinct of "we were wrong" instead of "oh awesome!". Anyway, stream of consciousness rant there...sorry.


We were at Sobey's yesterday and we saw this little girl dressed up as a princess shopping with her parents. Hubby and I both thought it was really cute. I said to him "if our little girl wants to dress up as a princess to go shopping, then we are totally going to let her". He agreed. At the same time we both said "or if our son wants to dress as a princess". It's so nice to know we are on the same page, and really, when it comes down to it, either way it's going to be a hell of a fun ride!


So, Hubby and I would like to know: do you think we are having a boy or a girl?

Is Peanut a Boy or a Girl?

Hubby's Creativity

Ok. So I was mentioning to Hubby that I was thinking of changing up the blog template to be a bit less generic, and a bit more reflective of what this blog is about. It’s obviously not about grass. Or dandelions. It could arguably be about figurative blue skies, but still. By changing it up, I meant using a different template offered by Blogger that is a bit more fitting. Hubby thought this meant that we needed to make something up from scratch. He also thought (for some reason) that the grass was an integral part of the new template. He set to work to create a new template from scratch that would be perfect for the blog.

I don’t really know THAT much about technology. I get by, and would probably describe myself as “eventually tech savvy”; at first I have no clue, but give me some time to play around, and I figure it out. Maybe it won’t be the most efficient way of doing it, but it will usually work. Hubby is similar. He learns by doing. However, he works in the industry of technical support, and so most people assume that he is a tech whiz. And he generally is. He learns the same way I do, but just a lot faster, and he probably comes up with the most efficient way. So, when he told me he would come up with something, you can understand that my expectations were pretty high.

Hubby has really been the model Daddy-to-be so far. He is super excited about the pregnancy, and is really involved. He throws out baby names and reads along in his Daddy book about the development of Peanut each week. He helps out a ton around the house, and takes pictures of my belly each week. He is super sweet, and has all the makings of the perfect Dad.

So far these paragraphs all seem to be unrelated, but they are necessary in their own way for what I am about to show you. The ingredients for a new blog template from Hubby were: tech savvy man + super sweet Daddy-to-be. What resulted was perhaps the opposite of my high expectations.

What resulted was this:

Yes. That is our baby (which looks sort of cow-like) in a diaper with a rocket launcher strapped to its back fighting a demonic T-Rex. On grass. With blue skies. Obviously the rocket launcher needed some sort of apparatus to convert it to a backpack, as Baby only has stick legs to crawl with.

This was Hubby’s idea for my blog template. And while I do admit it is a pretty awesome picture, I am not sure if it accurately reflects the theme of this blog. So I am still looking.

Money Makes the World Go Round...

So, like most people our age, Hubby and I can stand to be more financially responsible. Last night we sat down and hammered out a plan to reach our goal of being out of debt (not counting the mortgage) before the baby comes. It was always our goal, but I guess since we succeeded in getting pregnant sooner, rather than later, that we let the goal fall by the wayside. With the help of some outside assistance, we have set out a pretty aggressive plan to make this goal a reality in the 5 or so months we have left before the anticipated arrival of Peanut.

I felt really good about it when we made the plan last night, and this morning I got a little bit nervous about it, which is a pretty typical pattern of behavior for me. So I sat down and really did a budget for our current situation, and (as always) was shocked with the amount of money we SHOULD have left over at the end of each month. It’s insane really. And to think that all of that is spent on small little things that are soooo not needed, and we really have nothing to show for all that spending at the end of the month anyway. So, I guess I am back on board with the aggressive plan.

The problem is changing a behavior that you are so entrenched in, and that you so enjoy. I mean, we are going to have to stick to a pretty tight budget if we are going to make this work, and that means taking away all those things that we love to spend on. Getting rid of those habits is going to be the hardest part.

Also, I am going to start meal planning so that we aren’t spending unreasonable amounts on groceries all the time, most of which end up going bad because there are only 2 of us, and we can’t eat everything we buy.

But, the payoff of being out of debt is going to be awesome, I know it. And it does feel kind of nice to be acting like a responsible adult for once. I know it’s going to be hard, but I am hoping that putting in the effort to change our lifestyle and  get our future a bit more secure will be more than worth it.

The sad thing is that most people in our society complain about money all the time. How they never have enough of it. But in reality, we usually have more than enough. We just aren’t managing it correctly. We end up funneling all our hard-earned cash back out to the retailers and the cycle of consumption keeps going. Hopefully we will be able to stem that flow of cash a little bit.

I know this sounds a bit preachy, but I guess I’m trying to convince myself, you know? It’s hard when companies are so good at convincing us that we don’t WANT, we NEED their products. Could you even imagine your life without a cell phone or an iPod or a computer? I know I sure couldn’t. And it’s a bit scary. I wonder what things are going to be like for our children. Already it seems so out of control, and I don’t think I see it slowing down anytime soon. Hopefully getting back to financially secure ground will also help me appreciate the simpler side of life that I’ve forgotten about.

Our "Special" Kitty

So, as previously mentioned, our family currently consists of Hubby, me, and our Kitty (also, Peanut is on the way, but Peanut is only about the size of an avocado right now).

Let me tell you about Kitty. First off, her name is Kitty. Yes, we are that original. Trust me, thinking of names for the baby has been a nightmare so far. Although we are quite sure we won't name it "Baby".

She is a gorgeous, beautiful, adorable little cat. The only problem is she is dumb. Like REALLY dumb. She's sort of like the hot blond bimbo from high school. You know, the one that looks amazing, but as soon as she opens her mouth people moan and roll their eyes and say "Is it possible that someone can be THAT dumb?!" Yeah, that's Kitty. She makes Kelly Bundy look like Einstein.

(Yes, she is lying on a water bottle...see what I mean?!?)

We are quite sure she suffers from ADD. She changes focus every 2 seconds. And she is instantly calmed when you put a blanket over her. It's like she needs a safe place with no distractions. The second you shove her under a blanket she starts purring and gets all comfy-like. And she loves boxes. My parents were looking after her when Hubby and I went on our mini-honeymoon to Seattle. I got email updates from my mom. At the beginning they were similar to this:

Mom: Your cat hasn't moved from under the couch since you brought her over. I think she is eating, but it is hard to tell, since she just hides under there the whole day. We also don't see her at night, so it's possible she is under there all night as well. Poor Kitty :(

Then one day things turned around. Do you know how? My mom "brought her a box". Which means she went downstairs to the crawl space, pulled out some crappy old box that was sitting there for months, if not years, and put it down in the middle of the living room floor in front of the television, then went about her business. Sure enough, within seconds Kitty was in the box, purring. Dumb cat.

She is also fascinated with water. Not her drinking water, but any water that she should not have. Like the water in my cup that I am drinking from. She should not have that. But she wants it desperately. Or the water that comes out of the bathroom tap.

She sits in the bathtub staring up at the faucet like it is some type of deity which will spew forth manna and honey from it's mouth if you are devoted enough. It's like Linus waiting for the Great Pumpkin. It's just sad. When I do turn on the tap for a bath, she quickly becomes fascinated with the bath water and her life goal is to drink it. Never mind that it is usually full of soapy bubbles and gross human dirt. She goes to great lengths to drink it, no matter what obstacle is thrown in her way. Me splashing gallons of water in her face until she is dripping wet? No problem! Occasionally slipping into the water because she is bent over the edge at impossible angles? Shake it off and resume the mission! When she does actually manage to get a mouthful, despite my  best efforts, she usually hates it, jumps off the tub, shakes her paws and gives a look that says "How DARE you think I would drink such crappy water!". Does this stop her from doing it all over again the next time I run a bath. No. No it doesn't.

So that is my Kitty. I felt I should give you fair warning and background on her, just in case when I mention her it sounds like she is normal or something. Because she definitely isn't.

It would be interesting to start a support group for owners of dumb pets. Anyone else have ridiculous animal stories?

We Dexter-ed our Christmas...

Ok. So I have a very shameful secret. Hubby and I still have our Christmas tree in our basement. And it's February. And this isn't the first time this has happened.


It's not like it's decorated or anything. It's just that the odds are stacked against it's removal. It's all exciting to go and pick out the tree, and get it home and set it up and admire it and it's nice pine-y smell. But after Christmas is all done, and the house has been returned to normal, our tree still stands glaring at us and reminding us what horrible people we are. The city doesn't collect curbside garbage in our community, so we can't just drag it out to the road and wait for the garbage fairies to take it away. And our car is a teeny tiny 1990 Honda Accord, so it's impossible to fit a dead tree in there without a giant mess. And the dump is soooooo far. And we are lazy. So, so lazy.


Hubby decided that enough was enough today, since we are having friends over tonight, and he didn't want to share our embarrassment with them. So I came up with this awesome plan that we would wrap it in garbage bags, secured with twine and then it wouldn't be so messy, and then we would take it to the dump. This plan did not work. At all. Hubby touched the tree in preparation for the first garbage bag and every single needle fell off the tree onto the carpet. Every. Single. One. Then we were left with the sharpest, evilest tree of death-branches that poke through heavy duty garbage bags like they were soap bubbles. And to get to it you have to walk across an agonizing carpet of teeny-tiny spikes that lodge themselves into your feet and between your toes. Also, we didn't have any twine.


Staring at our obvious defeat, I came up with another brilliant plan. We would simply systematically hack off each of the death-branches until the Christmas tree was reduced to a manageable pile of death, and then put the pile into garbage bags and put them in the dumpster. In other words, we would Dexter the Christmas tree. Hubby loved the idea, as it saved us the cost and hassle of going to the dump, while allowing him to play out some serial killer scene and be all manly by taking care of a problem that needed fixing.


So, Hubby runs to Canadian Tire and asks the assistant for heavy-duty garbage bags and a hack saw strong enough to easily saw off limbs...dons his gloves and begins to hack Christmas into manageable pieces so we can hide it in garbage bags and throw it in the dumpster. Then, I vacuumed up the blood needles, had a shower, and we are ready to pretend that nothing ever happened...

I feel sort of shameful though. I know while we are enjoying our company tonight, I will be scared that our friends will find some small piece of evidence of the massacre that occurred in that very spot, and our secret will be brought to light.


Hubby and I are going out to rent the next season of Dexter tomorrow.

The Day of Reckoning

Today is a depressing day. Up until now I have 1 pair of maternity pants that I wear for work (they are getting a lot of use…). I am ok with this, because generally work pants have a much higher waist, and so naturally they don’t fit as well anymore. However, I have a favourite pair of jeans that I wear all. the. time. Normal, non-preggo jeans that are flattering and perfectly worn in. I did see that recent experiment where that dude didn’t wash his jeans for like 2 months, but I think that is a bit extreme. So, naturally, I threw my jeans in the wash. Well, I went to put them on for work today, and lo and behold Fatty Fatterson can’t fit in them anymore!!! The perfect fit jeans no longer perfectly fit!! NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I refused to wear my mat pants once again today, so I grabbed my trusty Bella Band and am walking around work with my button and fly undone and my Bella Band camouflaging that fact. In some ways it is kind of funny though. It’s like I have a secret and no one knows. I kind of just want to whisper “my pants are undone you know” to my colleagues, but that would be so incredibly creepy. I would probably be sued. But it  still would be a little bit funny.

The other thing, albeit this one is a bit easier to take, is that it can no longer be considered appropriate for me to continue wearing my normal sized bras. The over-spillage is getting a bit extreme. I would prefer to NOT look like some creepy lady with over-flowing cleavage and undone pants and a big belly. Like a strange cross between a cougar at the local country bar and a swimmer with an inner tube around their belly. *shudder*

So, I guess it’s officially time that I march my big, fat, jiggly, pregnant behind to a maternity store and get properly outfitted for this little journey.

The day has come. I am big.

The Not-So-Fun Side of Pregnancy

The symptoms of pregnancy are an oft-discussed topic. It’s probably the thing you know most about. And it’s also why it’s impossible to hide the pregnancy, no matter how hard you try. I am not going to lie, I was pretty concerned about having a miscarriage, and so didn’t want to shout it from the roof-tops right away. It’s not talked about too often, but when it is, you realize that it is incredibly common. And the doctor tells you some scary sounding rates right off the bat, and tells you what to do in case you do miscarry (or at least mine did. On my first visit.). I know it is a very common thing, and many people have experienced it, which is why I was trying to prepare myself just in case. So we didn’t want to tell everyone right away. Plus, it’s kind of nice having such a big, exciting secret just between the 2 of you. People make little comments and you can smile knowingly to each other, it’s sort of sickeningly cute. But it’s impossible to keep.

At first, I was symptom free. While it is kind of nice, it’s also a bit unnerving, and it’s almost like that positive test never came. It’s hard to believe you actually are pregnant at all. But not too long after, the morning sickness hit. And this is where it starts getting impossible. If you are a young woman of childbearing age, and you throw up, people always say “She’s pregnant”. It’s a given. Even if it is obvious you are suffering from some avian pig flu, you still are assumed to be pregnant, unless proven otherwise. Add to that the fact that I was sooo bloated it looked like I was 5 months instead of 5 weeks, and it was a pretty obvious thing. Once you start breaking out the baggy shirts and running to the bathroom, you are hooped. So, while we wanted to keep the cute little secret phase going much longer, it never happened. We did manage to keep it for a while from our nearest and dearest, but my work knew much earlier than I wished, which seems sort of  backwards. Most of our friends figured it out right away. I am not the type of girl to be seen without a drink or 2 on a night out, so as soon as I started drinking soda or orange juice, I started getting questions. The fake cocktail trick only works for so long…

The morning sickness is still with me, albeit in a lesser form, at 15 weeks and 5 days. All the pregnancy books tell you that once you hit the magic 2^nd trimester, then pregnancy is awesome and all the exhaustion and nausea magically disappears. They lie. Although, living in Canada has its perks, as we have this magic little pill called Diclectin for morning sickness. The manufacturers of this drug must be incredibly, sickeningly rich. The pills cost quite a bit, and it’s almost impossible to function in the real world without them. So I count myself lucky that they are available, and that I don’t have to get up close and personal with the toilets at my work. Soooooo icky. *shudder*

Freaking-Out Land

So, this pregnancy has definitely been a new experience for me. I don’t think you can ever be prepared for it, no matter how many books you read, people you talk to, or movies you watch. After the initial excitement wore off of finding out we were going to have a baby, the reality of the situation set in. We were going to have a baby. We were going to be responsible for a human life, entirely dependent on us. For 18 years. The “holy crap” mode set in pretty quickly, and both Hubby and I started to get scared. Like really scared. What were we doing?! We would never be able to travel again! We wouldn’t be able to leave our house EVER! We couldn’t even come close to affording it. Do you SEE how much baby stuff costs? We will end up being those horrible horrible parents who everyone says they will never be! WE CAN’T DO THIS!

Of course, this mode wears off and it ends up becoming more like an ugly pimple. You mostly forget about it, but every now and then, it’s all you can think about. We have settled into acceptance mode, with some trips to Freaking-Out Land every now and then. I don’t think there is a good way of dealing with it. It’s not like your rational mind doesn’t provide answers for some of these crazy thoughts. Of course we can still travel, it will just be different than before, and of course we can leave the house. After all, there will be lots of people wanting to babysit (at least at first…). And somehow we will be able to afford this new little  one. We aren’t THAT badly off. Lifestyle adjustments will be made, and things will work out. But it doesn’t stop you from falling over the edge every once in a while. The thing that we hope for is that one of us is still thinking rationally when the other one starts freaking. Otherwise, if we are both in Freaking-Out Land, then it’s a very bad situation…

How it all began...

Growing up, I always knew I wanted to be a mommy. Having children was always a given for me. I never even considered a life without them. I even had the perfect plan: I would get married at 25, have my first child at 27, second at 29, and then bam! Done by 30 and have a white picket fence and a doggie and a kitty.

Well, as you can imagine, the plan I made at 16 was probably not the course my life took.  What happened instead was this:

I graduated from university and started working in a job related to my field. I dated someone for a very long time, realized it wasn’t working, and that I needed a change. Ended up booking a 40 day trip to Thailand and that was the catalyst for a huge life change for me. Sounds cheesy, but it really did change me for the better. I met a man on the trip, and although we were interested in each other, we were better off as friends. It just didn’t seem like it would work, him being around the world in paradise surrounded by hot young women in bikinis, and me here in cold Calgary working in a menial job. Anyway, once I was back in the cold, white north, I wondered why I ever left Thailand in the first place, and ended up finding a job in a beach town there. I quit both of my jobs and then flew to Thailand to work for a wonderful family. I ended up reconnecting with Mr. Right (of course!) a few months after I arrived back in paradise. One thing led to another, and we realized we were  meant to be. If we wanted to have a “real” relationship and a chance at a good life together, we realized we had to do more than live the hippy lifestyle on some beach in paradise, and made the decision to move back to Canada. (whhhhhyyy???)

So, long story short, we did end up getting married, it was just not exactly according to my awesome plan. I didn’t even meet my husband until I was 26, and we just got married this year, when I was 28 (well, 1 month shy of 29 actually…). My plan of having children before I was 30 was rapidly becoming something that would never be realized. UNTIL, one fateful November morning, when I felt a little bit crampy and thought to myself “maybe I should take a pregnancy test…just in case”. 

We had been married for 3 months, and while we weren’t actually trying to get pregnant, we weren’t exactly trying NOT to either. It was kind of like the last 5 minutes of a hockey game when you are down by 4 goals: you pull the goalie, but you aren’t REALLY expecting to tie the game.

I peed on the little blue stick, and then started the shower. I wasn’t even really that anxious, as I thought it would be negative for sure. This wasn’t the first time I had done this. So imagine my utter surprise when I saw a faint second line on the stick. It was definitely there. I had nothing to say really. I was home alone with Kitty (oh yes, that was one part of the plan that did come together…our gorgeous, but “special” Kitty). So the logical thing to do was yell “Kitty!! I’m pregnant!!”, after about 30 seconds of “Oh…my…God…” first. I had to wait to tell the hubby the life-altering news, so I had this massively huge secret to keep in all day at work. It was torture. I am HORRIBLE at keeping secrets. Really truly awful. But I did manage! And telling Hubby was an awesome experience, even if he may have already guessed from the suspicious way I suggested we stop in the park by my work before heading home. As if I could keep that in the whole commute home!

Anyway, I suppose my plan is sort of on track, even if it’s running a bit behind (Baby will be born 2 months before I turn 30...!). But this whole being pregnant and becoming parents is incredibly new for us. I imagine we aren’t the only ones going through a bit of shock and fumbling our way through pretending like we know exactly what we are doing. If we are, then we truly are doomed. If not, then I hope you find some comfort in knowing you aren’t the only ones!