Oh where, oh where, has my camera cable gone?

Oh where, oh where could it be?????

This could be a problem VERY soon. Not only is our computer still perched atop a box in a remote corner of our bedroom, UPSTAIRS, because that's the only room with a dedicated internet cable connection (we simply MUST get that fixed, the purdy new computer desk looks rather lonely downstairs in the "hobby" room), meaning that any access to a scanner is not quite possible, BUT......the digital camera is FULL. The memory card is full, its internal hard drive is full. And it's the only way we have of sharing pictures of our new life here in Alabama! EEK!

My blog is now officially boring. No pictures anywhere to be found except that silly little (teeny) self-portrait in my profile. Ick. PETE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Whaddaya doin???????

Why oh WHY is my hubby playing around on a full-sized locomotive engine today? Why? Does he not realize the sheer gravity of the situation here? Does he not understand that if this baby is born with no way to take or share pictures, the earth will simply fall off of its axis????? HOW ON EARTH SHALL I SCRAPBOOK?????

My heart cannot take it. I'm becoming faint.

And I've apparently been around my drama-queen daughter far too much lately, she's rubbing off!

One more week?

WELL now....let's scratch that whole "so far there aren't any of the typical pre-eclampsia symptoms like swelling, headaches, spotted vision.....", they're here! The only one left is the doozy--protein in the urine. That one indicates that the elevated blood pressure is messing with kidney function. So far, no protein. But considering how HIGH those BP readings are, even the doctor is convinced it won't be long before it's there. Hmm.....seems this little one may be "interfering" with Daddy's plans to pick up his toy Porsche (relax, folks, it's an oldie he picked up in an even trade for his motorcycle in Germany) next Friday since my next OB appointment is Thursday! If that nice little protein problem arises, it'll be straight to Labor and Delivery for us! Thankfully, they don't mess around with "let's try this" here. They have a NICU and they're not afraid to use it, unlike the hospital in Heidelberg where Danica was born.

I'm swelling as I'm sitting, so this isn't going to be a long, drawn-out blog entry. Just the facts, ma'am. House is *almost* in order. Just about a dozen boxes left IN ALL, thank goodness, and we'll be DONE!

What day is it?

It's been a while since I've had a calendar on my wall. Shoot, it's been a while since I've had ANYTHING on my wall! But anyway....I cannot believe I actually had to pick up my DayRunner today and purposely count out what day it was just to know what on earth I'm supposed to be doing this week! Moving makes your brain turn to mush, and late pregnancy tends to exacerbate the problem, that's for sure. But for heaven's sake, don't try to PLAN anything during weeks like this!

Jon is more than halfway through basic training, and from the sound of his letters, he's got this military thing down to a "t" already...upset that the doofuses are put in charge when the hard-chargers and uber-motivated soldiers have to stand back and just take orders like good little boys. Welcome to real life, my boy! I must hear things like that at least once a month from his dad, and I've heard it for YEARS from all the enlisted guys we've ever known. At any rate, though, Jon is doing well, he's just homesick and in need of a shower, air conditioning (he wasn't quite prepared for an Oklahoma summer in full "battle rattle"!), and some home cooking. All the typical stuff. We got the graduation announcement newsletter from his Commander today, and while it would be wonderful to be able to plan a trip out West to see him graduate, the whole works hinges on someone who isn't but a hair over five pounds right now. Amazing how someone so SMALL who hasn't even taken a single breath can control so much of the immediate universe!

Stefani is due on the 31st of August, but we will meet her MUCH sooner than that. I finally got in to see an OB on Monday after being hem-hawed around with at the base clinic (they didn't quite grasp the, um, pressing NEED I had to see a doctor as soon as we got here, so I got "the first appointment we have"), and as I suspected, my blood pressure is elevated. A week ahead of what is normal for me. Usually, I start seeing elevated BP's around 34 weeks, but this time it reared its ugly head at 33 weeks; no doubt thanks to some of the added stress and strain of moving. After almost two hours of trying to decipher my German OB records (THAT was a laugh...thankfully the doctor and nurses found humor in it too) and redoing most of the paperwork and "intake" stuff that is done in the first trimester, my new OB decided a very thorough ultrasound was in order.

All's well with the wee one. Not so with me, but I already saw that coming. Thankfully, now there aren't any of the classic pre-eclampsia symptoms like swelling, frequent headaches, spotted vision, and protein in the urine, but I know it's all on its way in short order. Especially considering that I can't truly "slow down" and do full bedrest like I would normally be able to do at this stage of the game. But the doctor knows that, he is understanding, and is taking into account all that is going on in life right now. Thank GOD for good doctors, they don't realize how much they can de-fuse a stressful situation!

Interestingly, the baby is measuring a full week ahead of what she *should* be in development, so the doctor is reassured that an early delivery won't be as problematic a few weeks (if we make it that far) early as it would if she were right on track gestationally or even a bit behind. She's actually measured a full week ahead for almost four full months now, but *my* measurements are still on track with my due date, so none of the dates are going to change. HOWEVER....I know pre-eclampsia doesn't reverse itself, and there is no "cure" other than delivery, so already at my first doctor's appointment, we were discussing delivery. This time around, thankfully, I have a doctor who doesn't want to toy with the idea of "trying" to have a normal delivery. He is taking my past experiences into account, paying attention to my concerns, and he's agreeing with me that this time around, a planned c-section is the safer choice. No dates yet, we're going to try to wait as long as possible, but he mentioned being surprised if we get another four weeks out of this pregnancy. Me too.

So yes, Jon, you will be beaten "home" by your newborn baby sister. By how much? We shall see. Maybe a week, maybe two, maybe just a couple of days!

I concede.

I'm tired. I'm worn out.

All of the beds are now up (including the crib, so hey, IF this little one were to, perchance, make a seriously early arrival, we're ready), the kitchen is done with the exception of a few odds and ends that I have yet to find a home for, and the phone, internet, and cable are up and running.

I believe Pete wins this time. It's about time to slow down.

Obsess much?

I know I don't have full-blown OCD....at least not that's officially diagnosed, anyway, LOL. However, moving (especially the moving IN part) really does bring out my obsessive tendencies, and while I'm trying hard not to drive my family nuts, this is one week when I'm not going to apologize for wanting things "just so" and not settling for half-done. Normally, (even my mom would attest to this, much to her horror) I will bend to lesser standards with my housekeeping and organizing to placate the rest of the family and keep things sane, but this week (as with last week and the week before that), I'm going to insist that things be done RIGHT--and by right, I mean, of course, MY WAY!

You know how the saying goes that a man's home is his castle? I personally think that's a bit off. There's another lesser-known saying among military families that even though the hubby may be the commander, it's his wife who's the first sergeant, and it's the mom who hands out the orders! Pete's name may be first on the change of address card, the "head of household" for tax purposes, and even spiritually...but he doesn't have a CLUE how to organize (or clean) a house. Just yesterday, we spent several hours doing something Pete didn't even think needed to be done. We cleaned a perfectly "clean" house. WHY?? Well, the wax buildup on the linoleum was about to drive me batty, and the last thing I could imagine doing was putting all my "stuff" in a house that wasn't clean when we started. So out came the ammonia and up came probably five years of wax and cigarette smoke from the prior occupants. YUCK! Kelsey and Pete just shook their heads at me, but you know what? That kitchen floor sparkles now, and there is not a spot on it that grabs my attention--a very good thing, in my book!

We were sitting at lunch today with three couples from church talking about moving around, having unpacked boxes (HORRORS!!!) living in the house for years, and the whole moving-in hassle. It appears I have become a bit of a joke to Pete--at least, my unpacking/obsessing over the moving-in aspect of our military transfers have. I'll admit it, I HAVE TO get things unpacked as soon as the moving truck has pulled away from the house. It's not in me to let boxes sit all over the house unpacked for weeks on end. Pete doesn't see them after a while. He forgets they're there, even if he's got to climb over them to get to something. Me? NO WAY. Cardboard boxes offend my sensibilities, quite frankly. They are ugly and they represent something that is not yet finished. We have so little time at the places we're normally stationed, if I let things sit in the house, we'd barely get moved in before we had to get things packed up again! So step aside and just stay out of the way, there's WORK to do!

I'm 32 weeks pregnant today. I'll probably get a LOT less done this time around than I usually do the day our household goods are delivered. But at the end of the day, I know I will be able to sleep on my OWN bed, on my own clean sheets, in my own bedroom, with all the children sleeping in their own beds on their own clean sheets surrounded by put-away clothing and toys that are put away, and I can plop my fatigued fanny down on my own couches to rest in between boxes! It's my "thing". I'll gladly own it!