tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45258629382381607232024-03-13T05:03:48.848+01:00My life as a grown-upMrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-11841778317986439202013-10-03T03:26:00.000+02:002013-10-03T03:26:08.539+02:00I HATE BREASTFEEDING!!!!So, this blog is not for everyone. The La Leche League and pushy breastfeeding mothers will probably have an aneurysm if they read on. This is for those women who tried their best at breastfeeding and failed, and it is for the women who chose bottle feeding from the get go.<br />
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I tried breastfeeding my first. After a traumatic emergency c-section and a milk supply that decided not to show up until 10 days later, I failed miserably. Sylvia would only drink from a bottle, so I pumped like a mad woman for 8 weeks before throwing in the towel. I beat myself up over it, and swore the next time I would do more to succeed.<br />
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Well, here is next time. I took the breastfeeding class before I had the baby. I read the books. I prepared myself mentally for the struggle that might ensue. I was ready. I went into labor at 32 and 35 weeks (both were able to be stopped). I ended up having my sweet son right at 37 weeks. The c-section was definitely not traumatic, but it was still major surgery. When I finally got ready to start this breastfeeding adventure, little Elisha (m. Biblical name E-lie-sha not aleesha) did not have a strong suck reflex. Not to mention he is super lazy. I was still determined, but once again I failed. So here is why I hate breastfeeding...<br />
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1. <b>You're damned if you do and damned if you don't.</b> If you do it in public, it is offensive and disgusting to others around you. I'm pretty sure I have shirts that show more boob than I show with a proper nursing tank and little man covering up the rest of my boob anyway, but whatever, I'm used to offending people. If you give your baby a bottle, you have also committed a cardinal sin. Any older woman or judgmental breastfeeder will tell you how terrible the poison is that you are feeding your child. (Note: The hospital pediatrician assured me that when I was supplementing that there is really nothing wrong with formula.)<br />
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2. <b>I still can't eat or drink whatever I want.</b> One night during my breastfeeding adventure I had lasagna with hot sauce on it and garlic bread. Holy mistake. That was poisoning my baby. He screamed and cried all night, and he doesn't scream. It was a bad call on my part, but it sounded so good after months of heartburn after eating everything for months. Then add in, still no booze. Well, no more than a glass of wine a night. I rarely drink anymore, but if I want to have a second glass of wine I think I deserve it after all the crap I went through during pregnancy. I would never, and if I did I would pump and dump. Guilt is a hell of a drug.<br />
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3. <b>Pain, blocked ducts and mastitis.</b> I suffered through these when I was pumping for Sylvia. They were actually the reason I stopped pumping. It hurt, and I was miserable and sick. Well, it turns out a weak and lazy feeder is just as bad for your boobies as pumping incorrectly. I was nursing Eli with the lights off in the middle of the night. When I woke up there was blood all over his onsie, the sheets, my shirt, and the burp rag. It turns out I fed him a belly full of bloody milk. Then, I pumped out blood the whole next morning. (Pretty much my last straw. I know the bloody milk wouldn't hurt him, but I still thought it sounded more like poison than formula.)<br />
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4. <b>SOME lactation consultants.</b> The lactation consultant I had as my night nurse in the hospital was a terror!!! I almost punched her in the face on several occasions. She was the main reason I pushed to come home after just one night. I wasn't sure if we would make it through the night again (definitely over dramatized although I may have hit her). She kept grabbing and pulling on me, and she refused to get us the donor milk until Eli was hysterical. I did have a good experience with the lactation consultant at the pediatrician. She gave me a nipple shield which helped little man latch and feed much better. She also wasn't pushy about breastfeeding, and she made me very comfortable. <br />
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5. <b>Finally, the guilt.</b> I hate that I gave up after the mastitis. I hate that I actually want to breastfeed, and I hate that I am beating myself up over it once again even though it is what is best for us. I hate that I see "the breast is best" on everything. No shit, Sherlock. For the record, Sylvia was formula fed after 8 weeks. I highly doubt she is going to have a low IQ because of what I fed her. I'm pretty sure that is genetic. She also has been sick a lot less than her friends. She only got sick once before she started preschool. All preschoolers get sick, breast or formula fed.<br />
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So, there it is. Those are the main reasons I hate breastfeeding. I'm sticking by formula being what is right for us. I won't judge, and I will support you when you pull out your boob to feed in public. I am hoping that you do the same for me when I pull out my bottle. Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-81619822313225560352013-09-05T22:35:00.000+02:002013-09-05T22:35:12.791+02:00Crazy, Pregnant Mommy WishlistThere are those women who love being pregnant. They feel their most feminine and most beautiful creating life. I am not one of those people. Not even close. I feel fat, hideous, everything hurts, and I'm dying. Needless to say, these days I have a wishlist a mile long.<br />
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1. I wish I was one of those women that really only put on 25 pounds during pregnancy. Yeah, 40 pounds later... I'm going to have my work cut out for me (again) when this baby comes out. (Thankful note: I'm so glad I have good genes that make it a bit easier to lose weight.)<br />
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2. I wish I didn't feel judged by everyone. I don't know if it is real, or I'm just losing it. I feel judged by people if I sneak a latte, eat a Whopper, or don't buy everything organic. I feel judged by my husband when I "accidentally" eat all my food at the Japanese steakhouse. I fell judged by anybody that walks in my messy house. Bed rest and housework do not mix, and I'm really not a great housekeeper when I feel good. I won't even get into judgement by other moms based on my feeding and diapering choices. Sorry, but I will NEVER cloth diaper. I throw away clothes if they have poop on them. There is no way I could carry a shitty diaper around all day. (Thankful note: I have some really great family and friends that try to convince me the judgement is mostly in my head)<br />
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3. I wish I could explain to my sweet angel why I can't carry her like I did a few weeks ago, play outside at the park for 2 hours, and why my patience are running abnormally thin. (Thankful note: She is a laid back kiddo, and we love our naps together.)<br />
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4. I wish I could get through a whole day without crying, especially over stupid stuff. I cry over country songs, commercials, Sylvia doing something by herself, or the wind blowing a way that tickles my nose. (There is no thankful note for this. I come by my crazy emotions honestly.)<br />
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5. I wish I could ditch the guilt. ALL OF THE GUILT. I know I'm doing the best I can do, but my heart is full of guilt. I feel guilty for taking away Sylvia's attention, being less of a mom than usual, not keeping the house clean, the 2 glasses of wine I've had to ease my anxiety attacks (doctor recommended),and basically for being less than the person I usually am. (Thankful note: I have people who accept my crazy ass just the way I am.)<br />
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6. I wish this baby would stay put until he is healthy enough to come out. Preterm labor was very scary. I want my baby coming home with me, not staying in the hospital. (Thankful note: I'm 35 weeks. He is almost ready!)<br />
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7. I wish this baby would come out. I hate being pregnant, but I absolutely LOVE being a mommy. I'm not like some of my friends that were made to be mommies. I'm not even sure I'm even good at it, but I still love it more than anything. (Thankful note: I'm so very thankful to be pregnant after the hard time we had getting a baby to stick).<br />
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8. Finally, I wish that no other woman feels as bad or worse than I do (mentally more than physically). Give yourself a break, ladies. Lord knows I'm trying.Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-63092986227618511132013-07-26T18:02:00.000+02:002013-07-26T18:02:48.941+02:00New Style of WeekendsSo, I read an article on what highly effective people do on the weekends. It basically says that they unplug and unwind. Anybody that knows me is well aware that I am the complete polar opposite of highly effective. My head is as messy as my house, and I live with a toddler that is the same way. Needless to say, things don't always get done. My husband, on the other hand, is highly effective so I think this "new weekend" will benefit his psyche.
So here is what I'm thinking our new weekends should be like...
1.I'm actually going to have the house cleaned on Friday and ready for the weekend. We will not spend our weekends working, cleaning, or working on "honey do" lists,
2. Phones, Ipads, tv's, video games, and technology are off. Well, not our phones because that is the only way to make plans for fun, but we won't be sitting around staring at them. The TV will be turned on if we want to watch a movie after Sylvia goes to bed.
3. We will nap. We all love naps, so a napping we will be together as a family. Sylvia isn't allowed in our bed at night, but we will make an exception for the day.
4. We will plan *F*U*N* family outings every other weekend. Noah likes to do the whole sandbar thing with his brother, so I will give that to him on his off family fun weekends. This will give us the ability to truly enjoy our babies and create memories that we will never forget.
This type of weekends isn't really new for us. This is how we lived in Germany, and it brought us a whole different type of intimacy that was so easily lost when we moved back to the states. I'm hoping this change will not only recharge us but also reconnect us in this world of distractions. I hope it builds a strong bond with Sylvia and shows her that she is more important than the rest of the world. I guess we'll see how it goes.Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-21954519233442445032013-07-03T08:11:00.000+02:002013-07-03T08:11:32.189+02:00When the heck did all this happen?!Wow, I haven't blogged since May 2011. Since then, I've turned 27, 28, and 29. The wriggling 9 month old I used to blog about has turned into a full blown little girl. She will be 3 in a little less than 2 months. She is the light of our lives and 100% girl. She is all about makeup, changing clothes, pretty dresses, and drama. We also have a new addition on the way. After a rough year or so of trying with a few losses, we finally got a baby to stick. He (no name yet, Noah has rights so I'm patiently awaiting his ruling) is due October 7, but he will be here a little earlier. The first 20 weeks were stressful due to my history of pregnancy loss, painful due to the scar tissue stretching and my lovely fibroid, and exhausting seeing that my lovely daughter has an abundance of energy. Since we got positive results on our big ultrasound and all testing has been normal, we have hit somewhat of a stride.
Ok, enough catch up, now on to the main event...
Around my birthday I always find myself a bit reminiscent. This year, I just couldn't help but wonder where the last 4 years went. Here I am about this time 4 years ago...
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And here I am now...
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I refer to myself as a reformed party girl, but the truth is, a true party girl never fully reforms. The last 4 years of my life have included more change and excitement than most get in 10 years including but not limited to: pregnancy(surprise!), marriage, a move to Germany, having a baby in a foreign country, traveling all over Europe, moving back to US, having to adjust to a new type of life in old surroundings. I have really struggled with the adjusting. It is so hard letting go of who I was especially since I really liked her. She was awesome and hilarious. It is even harder finding where I belong now. I haven't been able to switch to mommy groups and car pools. While there are a few moms that I really enjoy hanging out with, I find that most just like to have pissing contests about how "advanced" their kids are. It is also hard to hang out with my pre-baby friends. They are all wonderful to Sylvia and very accepting of where I'm at, but there is still that separation that comes from just not being able to be around.
When I started my blog "My life as a grown-up..." I was a little scared, but mostly excited about this new chapter in my life. Now, looking back, I realized that I had no idea the challenges I would face. Being a grown-up hasn't been like playing house. It has been hard decisions, broken hearts, let downs, and a whole lot of learning sewn together by lots of laughter, kisses, hugs, and love. As I start to stare down my 30's I'm glad I learned all these lessons, so I know better than to think life is a cake walk. It is hard, and it doesn't give you many breaks. It takes courage to get through it. There are so many things to be scared of, and you should be. Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway though, right John Wayne? Time to saddle up, kids... we're just getting started AGAIN.Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-1223699653031245372011-05-20T16:37:00.003+02:002011-05-20T17:04:46.387+02:00Bumps and bruises<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakYchI3yNU8VxsfrWpSXkpqRXJrJXS1yZXAwdDKRcaK9FVXUj8YkdUKObQmlH-x-JhCaVutRD-Rd7HvZ-bE9eKoS0-OFNn9JTswGEpRyvhcUquZWmjV0gV4OWHWb-tekUOJk67j2BWPL2/s1600/bruise.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakYchI3yNU8VxsfrWpSXkpqRXJrJXS1yZXAwdDKRcaK9FVXUj8YkdUKObQmlH-x-JhCaVutRD-Rd7HvZ-bE9eKoS0-OFNn9JTswGEpRyvhcUquZWmjV0gV4OWHWb-tekUOJk67j2BWPL2/s320/bruise.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608814324014689810" /></a><br />What a crazy couple of weeks... <br /><br />Sylvia has entered a whole new wonderful dimension. For the first few months, I catered to an eating, pooping machine that would smile and occasionally throw me a giggle. Since she turned 6 months (she is almost 9 months now), we have been on a serious incline of awesome. The smiles and giggles that melted my heart have now been topped by hugs and nuzzles. Weird noises she used to make are starting to resemble a language that lets me know what she wants, likes, and doesn't (She has totally reinforced my idea that I'm the funniest person in the whole world). The little lump that had to be carried everywhere is now moving around on her own (crawling is her bitch) and can follow me around the house as I clean. She can pull herself up to standing, and she thinks she can stand on her own.<br /><br />WAIT!! HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM!!<br /><br />The keyword is "thinks" she can stand up on her own. I had no idea the terror that would strike every time she falls down. I'm seriously considering getting her a helmet. She will pull herself up on anything from the coffee table to the wall. Then, she just lets go and SMACK. She either falls into whatever she's standing on or straight to the floor. I know I sound like a horrible mom because I just let her do this, but I really do my best to keep it from happening. Unfortunately, I don't have the time to stand by her every second of every day, and I don't think I should. She needs to learn on her own a bit too, right? As long as all real dangers are removed from her play areas, she should be allowed to fall down and learn to get back up. This is what I keeping telling myself every time she falls hard(it has happened twice now), but the truth is it makes me nauseous. I'm afraid she is going to have brain damage even though I know that she doesn't even have a goose egg bump. I feel like every other mom looks at the bruise on my baby's forehead and thinks I'm a derelict<br /><br /><br />I guess I should just be glad she can actually move around. She is quite rotund, and gravity is not a big girl's best friend. I hope and pray we make it through this trial and error period without any major Central Nervous System injuries. I have a feeling we will be walking sooner than later. Great....Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-54000755693584881762011-04-07T16:05:00.002+02:002011-04-07T16:39:22.543+02:004 QuartersI wrote this as a note on Facebook June 4, 2009. It was right before my 25th birthday, and I was having a really hard time with where I was in my life. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">So, in less than a month I will be turning 25. If you would have asked me 5 years ago, I would have told you there is no way I would live to see the day. I'm having quite the little quarter-life crisis. I'm pissed at myself for all the stupid things I've done and the things I didn't get done due to my love affair with the party scene. My boss noticed I haven't been as focused at work nor as much of a sarcastic asshole (which he loves, mind you) lately, and he asked me what was wrong. I went on like a five minute rant about my quarter-life crisis, and after I was done he put everything in perspective for me. It was something along these lines: <br /><br />Jenna, I know you love football, so think of life like a giant football game. There are 4 quarters. In the first quarter you grow, make a lot of your big mistakes, learn, party, and play. In the second quarter, you build. This is when you build your career, your family, and yourself based on the lessons you learned in the first quarter. In the third quarter, if you played the first 2 right, you enjoy what you've built and learned. If you fucked those up, you have to keep building. In the fourth quarter, well, I doubt either of us will make it there! The way I see it, you did everything right in the first quarter, you've made more mistakes and partied more than anybody I know and actually learned along the way. Now, it's time to get your ass building! You don't want to have to make up for anything in the second half. Think of how stressed you are when Jake has to make up for 4 interceptions he threw the first half of a game. That's no way to live life or play football! </span><br /><br />Now, here I sit almost 2 years later. I'm married, living in Germany, getting ready to move back to U.S., and I'm next to the most beautiful baby girl I've ever seen. I never would have guessed when I wrote that note that I would be sitting where I am now. I still think it is the best life advice. I'm in the second quarter. I'm building my life. I find it hard to believe that I went from being a lost child to a pretty responsible adult in 2 years. I love this reliable, responsible person I've become. I like knowing that my family can always count on me. It makes me proud. I also like that I was that other person that I've almost completely lost touch with. The only remnants left of that person are, "shitter was full", laughing when the baby toots, and my love for cheap beer. Even my air guitar has gotten rusty. I know I will never have any regrets about taking long shots down the field. I ran most of my crazy plays in the first quarter. Now, I'm hammering with the run game and making steady progress. It may seem boring, but I've always got a few trick plays up my sleeve to keep it interesting. Right now, I would have to say I'm WINNING.Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-48168880611540397672011-03-04T17:19:00.002+01:002011-03-04T17:54:54.205+01:00The FunkSo lately I have been in a serious funk. It is almost enough to say I'm semi depressed. I really have no reason to be seeing that I have everything a person needs to be happy. I have just been so unmotivated to do ANYTHING. I weigh more than I've ever weighed (minus being 9 months pregnant) in my entire life, and I can't seem to get motivated to really diet or exercise that much. If I leave the house twice in a week, it is a good week for me. When we moved to Germany they warned us about the winters. They are long and cold. There are no 60 or 70 degree days September-April. I don't even think I saw the sun the whole month of December. I'm not cut out for this. I was born in South Florida. I NEED THE SUN. I have no idea how people do this year after year. I understand why Germans are so miserable though. Needless to say, I am in desperate need of my trip home. In 6 days Bear and I will be in LKN, and we will be in Florida on 19 days. The things I wish to accomplish while I'm home:<br />1. Spend as much time as possible with family and friends. Being alone sucks. I love Noah and Bear, but I need some time with other people. I isolate myself here. It isn't healthy.<br />2. Get a tan. I think sunshine is a must for happy people. I truly believe the lack of sunshine and warmth in my surrounding has directly attributed to the lack of sunshine and warmth in my soul.<br />3. Exercise every day... outside. This goes along with my needing a tan, but fresh air while exercising helps too. Even if my exercise is pushing Bear in her stroller down to Birkdale Village to window shop (I'm not buying myself anything until I lose at least 10 pounds, but it should probably be 20).<br />4.Go on a couple of real dates with my husband. It will be our anniversary while we are there. We need some time away from our sweet angel to actually feel like a couple again instead of just parents.<br />5. <Guilty pleasure> Show off my baby. I know that is so tacky to say, but she is my most awesome creation. She is such a ham, and I love to dress her up and show her off.<br />6. Spend one night acting like my old self. I want to take one night and act like the carefree person I used to be. I may drink a few too many Coors Light drafts, sing some karaoke, and do some serious fist pumping. I've spent the last 14 months being completely responsible, and I need a night away with my super crazy fun friends.<br />7. Do some serious work on myself. Being a stay at home mom is hard. It is emotionally trying being a slave to an infant 24/7, and I am starting to lose touch with who I am. I've lost sight of goals, and I have no priorities past Bear and Noah. I need to find a balance between who I was and who I am, and I need to devise a plan to get to who I want to be.<br /><br />That was some serious rambling, and I haven't even had a drop of wine...Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-30501813925132851442011-01-31T12:26:00.002+01:002011-01-31T17:44:47.191+01:00Guy on the subwayYesterday Noah and I were on the train, when I told him, "I've been thinking about him a lot lately." Noah knew exactly who I was talking about. It was a man I crossed paths with a few weeks ago. <br /><br />Bear and I were on the train, again, heading to meet Noah and his coworkers to go bowling. A man got on the train and sat a few seats down from me. He smelled horrible like he lived in a trash can. After I looked at him, I could see that he most likely did live in a trash can. He could barely walk with his cane. People would get on the subway and make rude remarks about the smell. Obnoxious teenagers would yell things in that horrible language. I watched as all this went down, and the man began to cry. I didn't do anything. I just watched in horror.<br /><br />I was absolutely horrified. I couldn't believe that people are so cruel. They just totally disregarded him as a human. They treated him like a trash can that needed lysol. The thing that disgusted me the most was that I just sat by and watched. I didn't do anything. I didn't try to protect this man from the worst side of humanity, disregard and cruelty. I also didn't give him anything. I should have given him money, taken him to a hostel, done something to help. I didn't though. I just sat by and watched the abuse and watched the man cry. Now, it haunts me. My heart breaks for this man daily. It breaks for him and all the other people that the world forgot. He is somebody's son. He is possibly somebody's brother, father, or uncle. He has dreams, and he probably had a time in his life when things went right for him.<br /><br />I know some people are homeless and have problems because of bad choices they have made, but they are still people. We've all made bad choices. Please, the next time you see one of these people don't be rude. Follow what you learned in elementary school. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. Please try to be considerate and remember that people still have feelings no matter what situation they are in.Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-20821479197800989542010-09-07T12:59:00.002+02:002010-09-07T13:02:14.172+02:00Sylvia's StorySylvia’s Story<br />It actually started August 30, 2010. I was in an abnormal amount of pain even though I was carrying around a giant baby. Noah and I decided that we needed to go to the hospital to have everything checked out. We went and spent the afternoon hooked up to the CTG machine only to be sent home with a couple of pain killers and orders to go get some rest. We went home and tried to relax, but at 5:30 a.m. on the morning of the 31st my water broke. After I adequately explained to my husband (a.k.a. Noah being an ass) that this was the real thing, we were off to the hospital. I was so excited to know that in a few short hours I would be holding the baby girl I’ve been waiting the last 39 weeks to meet. We had no idea what we were in for…<br />As soon as we got to the hospital, they hooked me back up to the same CTG machine I’d spent hours on the day before. My contractions were strong but irregular. They had us go for a walk and set us up in a hospital room. After being at the hospital for about 4 hours I was still only 4 centimeters dilated. Around 2 they decided to start me on Oxytocin to strengthen my contractions. I finally needed an epidural at that point. The anesthesiologist came in and set me up with a back catheter and some medicine that made things much easier for the time being. Unfortunately, that wonderful medicine wears off quite quickly. By the time my first one wore off I was still only 7 cm. They increased my Oxytocin to try to speed things along, but that just put stress on me and the baby. The doctor on duty came in to do an internal exam on the baby just about the time my most recent epidural wore off. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t even see straight. The baby was stressed, I was in immense pain, and Noah was just about at his wits end watching this train wreck. Even my midwife, Julia, that held a striking resemblance to my best friend was about to lose it.<br />At around 10:30pm the doctor came in and decided that we had given the “natural way” the best shot we could, but after being on 70ml of Oxytocin for 3 hours (I’m not sure how that is considered natural, but whatever) and still only being 9cm an emergency c-section was going to be necessary. I told my horribly exhausted husband to go lay down for a little while because things were about to get really hard. The hospital called in “Das A Team” which included the head OB, head anesthesiologist, and a number of nurses and midwives. They started me on Partusisten drip to counteract the Oxytocin and stop my contractions. Now, this may have stopped my uterus from contracting, but it caused severe convulsions in every other muscle in my body. I basically had a 3 hour seizure once this started. Noah came back to put on his scrubs unaware of what he was about to see. I’m not sure exactly what it looked like him when he walked in the operating room, but I know what it felt like. I was laying on an operating table, I was strapped down, and uncontrollably convulsing. He sat down next to me and didn’t leave my side. He watched as they gutted me like a fish, and he held the bucket as I puked all over myself unable to turn my head due to being strapped down. Then, I heard the doctor yell, “It’s a big one!” A sense of relief fell over me as I heard the cry of the little person that had been living in my belly the last 9 months. Sylvia Grey Davis 3930 grams, 53cm, born at 11:19pm on August 31, 2010. She was healthy. That was all that mattered. The 17 hours of labor and worst surgery of my life was worth every second, every pain, and the battle scar across my abdomen I’ll wear with pride.<br />The aftermath was harder than I imagined. I stay in pain, and I probably will for the next few weeks. I have a hard time lifting Sylvia. Hell, I have a hard time getting out of the bed or going to the bathroom. I lose feeling in my legs from my back catheter being left in so long. All the drugs made me feel pretty sick. I have a severe case of anemia and can’t get my blood pressure up to a normal level. I basically feel and look like a walking corpse. I can’t breastfeed. I pump every 2 hours trying to stimulate milk production, but they say when you have a complicated delivery like I did that it can inhibit my ability. The incision is bigger than I thought it would be, and I am sporting black bruises from hip to hip. That is giving me a hard knock lesson in vanity. I’ll be retiring my string bikinis now, and I have to come to grips with the fact that my belly will never be something to be envied again. I’m having a hard time dealing with it all. We told them ahead of time that I was going to need a c-section, but they refused our request because it wasn’t the “natural way” to do it. All I can do at this point is be thankful for my beautiful, healthy girl. There was a reason I was challenged this way. I may be paying for my sins, or I may just be a little unlucky. It doesn’t matter either way, we’re making the best of it. My mommy will be here on Friday!!!!Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-86717183542399595292010-08-13T12:39:00.002+02:002010-08-13T13:10:15.494+02:00Almost time for baby..As of today, I am officially 37 weeks pregnant. When I first found out I was pregnant (post complete freak out of course), I pictured myself giving birth to a bouncing baby in my mommy's hospital. I figured the hardest thing I would have to deal with would be my friends drinking beers in the visiting area. After hospital registration and my doctor's appointment this week, I realized this is not going to be the case at all.<br /><br />I will be giving birth at Martin Luther Krakenhaus. It is supposed to be the top hospital in Berlin. Silly me, I expected it to be all high tech. WRONG!!!! We got to the hospital to meet the lady to register. We sat in a room with no computers. She wrote down all of my information. As we walked back to make the other appointments with the doctors there to review some of my medical history, I still didn't see any computers. Ahh, the appointment desk, I was sure they would enter that into the computer. Wrong again!! They have an appointment book. The lack of computers and use of technological advances terrifies me that they might lose my baby. I actually had quite the nervous breakdown about the thought of them losing my little princess. Luckily, Noah came to my rescue again. He promised to write D's on her before she leaves the delivery room so we know it is her when they bring her back.<br /><br />Along with the lack of computers, another thing worried me. I'm supposed to hire a midwife?!?! WTF?!?! I have a doctor and a hospital, but apparently you need a midwife too. Do you know how hard it is to find a midwife when you have maybe 3 weeks left of your pregnancy? Most women book them the day they find out they're pregnant. I still haven't found one. Hopefully the world won't end if I can't get one.<br /><br />Yesterday, I went back to see the doctor. My little monster was tipping the charts of the EEG machine with all of her movement, so the doctor decided she needed to do another ultrasound to make sure everything was ok in there. Everything was ok alright. Sylvia hit quite a growth spurt in the last 2 weeks! The first time she was measured, she ended up being 7lbs 6oz. The doctor thought that was a little big, so she measured her again. Her second was 7lbs 8oz. Mind you, the measurements aren't an exact science at this point, and they can end up being over or under by up to a pound. Even if she is at the smallest weight she can be, she is still about 8oz more than the average baby at her gestational age. They don't want to make any decisions about what to do with her now (Germans like things to follow their natural flow and not intervene unless it is completely necessary), but I go back in 2 weeks (if I last that long) to be measured again and make a decision on what to do. I'm really not looking forward to pushing a 10lb baby out of my vag. That just doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun.<br /><br />Needless to say, this is about to be the biggest adventure of our lives. Noah and I aren't going to get the cushion of having friends and family around for support. We're on our own over here. To quote one of my very favorite people, "Things are about to get weird..."Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-44869201292423406612010-08-03T17:38:00.004+02:002010-08-03T18:32:45.927+02:00Rainy day in Berlin..Today was just one of those days... again...<br /><br />My Tuesday started out with me waking up at about 6:15 a.m. My wonderful husband had already made me a cappuccino knowing that I wasn't thrilled about going to school on this rainy morning, and I am by no means a morning person. After drinking coffee with Noah while he read me the news, I spent the rest of the morning with the worst case of morning sickness I've had since my first trimester. Every time poor Noah walked by or was anywhere near or in the bathroom he heard me either dry heaving hoping I would puke and feel better or ripping farts capable of knocking shelves off of walls. Now, mind you, I try not to fart in front of him, so when he hears these mammoth roars of gas protruding from my body, it is not a good thing. I was horribly embarrassed. Thankful that he doesn't hold these times against me, I began to start my day.<br /><br />I waddled my fat, fluffy butt to the train station in the rain. I made it to my German courses on time, and by about 10:30 my nausea started to subside. My early language session went well, but my afternoon one was a different story. The Germans think the best way to teach you a language is to only speak that language to you until you pick it up. That is all fine and dandy. I'm pretty smart, and I pick things up rather quickly. My morning instructor understands that for this concept to work, she must speak loudly, clearly, and slowly enough for people to process what she is saying. My afternoon teacher is still struggling with this. She blabbers on at about 90 words per minute in a voice so soft that I can barely hear every other word. Then, she gets annoyed that nobody has any clue what the F*#$ she is talking about. It's hard enough for me to understand her teaching, but I am the only American and the only person whose native tongue is English. Everybody else has to learn German through English instead of through a teacher who speaks Spanish, Norwegian, Italian, French, etc. THAT SUCKS!<br /><br /><br />After school, I waddled back home in the rain. All I could think about, besides hoping that I make it all the way home, was taking a glorious nap. That, my friends, did not happen. When I got home, I started some laundry and began looking at the numbers to see what kind of car Noah and I can currently afford with baby Sylvia on the way. Mind you, the door to the balcony is always open because there is no AC, and it lets the breeze through. I looked out over the river which I just love when it is raining, and I saw a couple bugs on the door. I decided to play bug killer, break out the vacuum and suck down 2 flying bugs and a couple of spiders. Then, I looked behind our green curtain where it is against the door and saw the swarm. I guess where it has been raining, all of them came in. I completely blew a gasket. I started crying hysterically. I almost started packing to go back home. As much as I would love to call the Orkin Man, they don't have exterminators here for some RIDICULOUS reason. I guess they believe in "live and let live unless you're an American or from the Middle East." After my hissy fit, I realized I needed to take matters into my own hands. I broke out the can of Raid and now am guilty of genocide. I murdered and sucked about 1,000 creepy, crawly, icky insects into my vacuum cleaner, and I don't feel the least bit guilty.<br /><br /><br /><br />Feeling quite accomplished, I am now sitting on the couch enjoying one of the most delicious cucumbers I've ever eaten and wondering if my husband is ever coming home to rescue me from.. I guess myself..Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-59299419039608984552010-07-14T15:48:00.002+02:002010-07-14T16:35:54.777+02:00What goes around... comes back around..While my title may seem a little too Justin Timberlake, what goes around does come back around. I've been in some less than desirable relationships. More than I would like to admit have ended with me getting cheated on. Every time it happened I thought it was the end of the world, my heart was completely broken, and I would never love or trust again. I would always get the same advice from friends, "You'll find someone better," or, "he didn't deserve you," and my favorite, "karma is a bitch." Oddly enough, while this advice may sound like bullshit at the time, it really does ring true. Let me correct myself, it will ring true IF instead of getting even you let it go, instead of getting cold you continue to have an open heart, and instead of not trusting you just become a little more picky about who you do trust.<div><br /></div><div>How do I know this is true? I live it every day. Once I let go of my anger and hurt, I met the man I now call my husband. I did find someone better that does deserve me and all that I have to give. I don't question where he is when he leaves my side, and I have never even felt the urge to check his voicemail. We have the type of relationship that really does last forever. Waking up next to him every morning makes all those times I thought I was "so in love" seem so very insignificant.</div><div><br /></div><div>Where karma comes into play. One of my previous relationship endeavors (names will be left out) that ended with him cheating on me with his ex girlfriend and moving across to country to be with her was recently brought to my attention. She ended up cheating on him after he followed her. When I saw his post with that information, I actually didn't think any of the things I thought I would. I should have been thinking, "I told you so," or "karma got ya, bitch!" I didn't. No, I felt sorry for him. It's odd how you wait and wait for karma to show her face, but she does it after your pain and anger are gone. What you thought would be "sweet revenge" actually turns into pity. This person that hurt you so bad now just isn't important anymore. It turns into more of a reminder to live right and treat others fairly with love and respect whether they deserve it or not because something bigger than you will take care of them.</div><div><br /></div><div>My life advice: Live your life the best you can, be altruistic, and remember that other people are usually doing the best they can. You will never be punished for doing good, and karma will take care of those that take advantage of the good ones. Trust me, I've seen it..</div>Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-32875504753219083822010-07-09T11:27:00.002+02:002010-07-09T12:13:48.669+02:00Ahhh GermanySo, I'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ve</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">been</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Germany</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">over</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">month</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">now</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">The</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">longer</span> I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">here</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">more</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">annoyed</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">get</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">seems</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Please</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">keep</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">mind</span> I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">going</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">on</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">my</span> 8<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">th</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">month</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">pregnancy</span>, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">don</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">sleep</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">well</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">is</span> 90 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">degrees</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">outside</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">with</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">no</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">ac</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">inside</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">except</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">for</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">our</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">bedroom</span>.<div><br /></div><div>~<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">No</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">AC</span>?!?! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">WTF</span>?!?!</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">When</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">say</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">no</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">air</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">conditioning</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">anywhere</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">but</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">our</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">bedroom</span>, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">mean</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">it</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">For</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">example</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">on</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">Sunday</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59">Noah</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60">and</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61">went</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64">movies</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_65">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_66">see</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_67">Shrek</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_68">By</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_69">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_70">time</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_71">we</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_72">got</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_73">out</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_74">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_75">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_76">movie</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_77">which</span> was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_78">fabulous</span>), <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_79">our</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_80">clothes</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_81">were</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_82">soaked</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_83">sweat</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_84">Yep</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_85">no</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_86">ac</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_87">even</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_88">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_89">movie</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_90">theater</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>~<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_91">Chivalry</span>? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_92">How</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_93">about</span> just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_94">common</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_95">courtesy</span>?</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_96">know</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_97">that</span> I'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_98">ve</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_99">turned</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_100">into</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_101">horrible</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_102">grouchy</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_103">pregnant</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_104">lady</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_105">but</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_106">common</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_107">courtesy</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_108">here</span> is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_109">non</span> existent. I'm all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_110">too</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_111">often</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_112">left</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_113">standing</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_114">on</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_115">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_116">train</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_117">while</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_118">young</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_119">men</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_120">take</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_121">up</span> all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_122">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_123">seats</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_124">without</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_125">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_126">even</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_127">crossing</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_128">their</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_129">little</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_130">minds</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_131">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_132">offer</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_133">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_134">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_135">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_136">lady</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_137">about</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_138">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_139">pop</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_140">that</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_141">is</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_142">sweating</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_143">profusely</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_144">Even</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_145">worse</span>, a man(40-50) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_146">cut</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_147">front</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_148">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_149">me</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_150">at</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_151">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_152">ice</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_153">cream</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_154">place</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_155">on</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_156">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_157">birthday</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_158">That</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_159">is</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_160">actually</span> just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_161">dangerous</span>. He's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_162">lucky</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_163">didn</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_164">bite</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_165">him</span>!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>~<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_166">German</span> "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_167">fashion</span>" <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_168">LMAO</span>-- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_169">here</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_170">is</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_171">some</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_172">advice</span>...</div><div>1. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_173">If</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_174">you</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_175">are</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_176">wearing</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_177">tube</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_178">top</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_179">wear</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_180">strapless</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_181">bra</span>. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_182">don</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_183">think</span> I'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_184">ve</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_185">seen</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_186">one</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_187">girl</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_188">here</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_189">with</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_190">tube</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_191">top</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_192">or</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_193">tank</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_194">top</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_195">without</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_196">bra</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_197">straps</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_198">showing</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_199">It</span>'s <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_200">tacky</span>/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_201">trashy</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_202">If</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_203">you</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_204">are</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_205">wearing</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_206">white</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_207">shirt</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_208">or</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_209">white</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_210">shorts</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_211">you</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_212">should</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_213">wear</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_214">white</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_215">bra</span>/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_216">panties</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_217">Again</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_218">looking</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_219">at</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_220">your</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_221">zebra</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_222">panties</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_223">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_224">green</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_225">bra</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_226">through</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_227">your</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_228">clothes</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_229">is</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_230">extremely</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_231">trashy</span>. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_232">know</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_233">they</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_234">sell</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_235">white</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_236">bras</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_237">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_238">panties</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_239">even</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_240">strapless</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_241">ones</span>. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_242">bought</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_243">one</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_244">here</span>!</div><div><br /></div><div>3. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_245">Socks</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_246">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_247">sandals</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_248">should</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_249">ALWAYS</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_250">be</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_251">worn</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_252">separately</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_253">If</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_254">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_255">is</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_256">too</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_257">chilly</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_258">for</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_259">sandals</span>, DON'T <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_260">WEAR</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_261">THEM</span>!! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_262">Please</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_263">put</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_264">on</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_265">closed</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_266">toe</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_267">shoes</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>4. I understand <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_268">that</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_269">being</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_270">ginger</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_271">must</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_272">be</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_273">cool</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_274">here</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_275">but</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_276">red</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_277">hair</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_278">does</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_279">not</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_280">work</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_281">for</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_282">everybody</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_283">Actually</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_284">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_285">only</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_286">people</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_287">know</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_288">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_289">shade</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_290">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_291">red</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_292">that</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_293">is</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_294">worn</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_295">here</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_296">works</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_297">for</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_298">is</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_299">Bozo</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_300">the</span> Clown <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_301">and</span> Ronald <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_302">McDonald</span>. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_303">know</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_304">there</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_305">is</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_306">lot</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_307">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_308">pain</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_309">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_310">suffering</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_311">associated</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_312">with</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_313">this</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_314">city</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_315">but</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_316">every</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_317">other</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_318">woman</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_319">tapping</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_320">into</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_321">their</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_322">inner</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_323">clown</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_324">probably</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_325">isn</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_326">going</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_327">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_328">help</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_329">Try</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_330">smiling</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_331">at</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_332">each</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_333">other</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_334">instead</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_335">Smiling</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_336">is</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_337">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_338">favorite</span>!!! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_339">And</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_340">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_341">looks</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_342">good</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_343">on</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_344">most</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_345">people</span>... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_346">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_347">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_348">next</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_349">point</span>..</div><div><br /></div><div>5. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_350">Swish</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_351">with</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_352">flouride daily, floss daily, and brush your teeth at least twice a day. Deodorant is not optional. It is the hottest summer ever. Please wear it. I carry mine with me and reapply as needed. Just an idea..</span></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_352"><br /></span></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_352">6. Along with the history of the city comes a desire for the youth to be individuals. While I'm all for individuality, I don't really consider it being an individual when your whole group of friends have the same black hair, nose rings, lip rings, facial piercings, and black clothing you have on.</span></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_352"><br /></span></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_352">That's just my $.02 for the day. We finally have internet again, so hopefully I can get back to blogging regularly.</span></div>Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-24789142079879312052010-06-09T15:26:00.002+02:002010-06-09T16:00:52.763+02:00New Country.. new troublesSo, as we start settling in and moving into the new place I'm learning TONS about the cultural differences. The hardest for me to get past is the lack of common courtesy and drive to help other people. Let me start by saying, I'm from the south. Southern hospitality is something I'm accustomed to, and I believe that you should help other people when you can. Noah has introduced me to some very nice and helpful people. One girl has helped tremendously with everything from finding a good OB/GYN to finding somebody to do my waxing. She has really been a lifesaver. People like that are the minority though. Yesterday, I was at the new place all day building our Ikea furniture (side note- I will never again do the cheap furniture thing. What you save in money you put back in two-fold with time and effort.). The washer/dryer was to be delivered between 12 and 4. There was a buzz between 1 & 2. Awesome! It was right on time. I buzz the delivery guy in, he comes in and informs me (from what I gathered as my German is shaky at best) that he is only supposed to bring it to the first floor, so I politely ask him to please help me out by bringing it up seeing that I'm 7 months pregnant and can't move the damn thing a centimeter. He laughs and says no. So, a little frustrated, I offer him 20 euro. It was worth that to me, he still declines. I'm thinking this better be really heavy. So I follow him downstairs. He hops on his truck and rolls our washer/dryer off on a mechanical dolly that lifts the thing up and down. HE DOESN'T HAVE TO PUT FORTH ANY EFFORT. WTF?!?!!?! It was really just too much for him to wheel his electronic dolly on the elevator and to the 3rd floor. I've never wanted to punch somebody so bad in my entire life.<div><br /></div><div>To top off all the horrible "customer service" here, our property manager had a complaint today about all the boxes being in the way when our kitchen was being delivered. Our move in date was supposed to be June 1. The reason it wasn't is because he didn't do the kitchen on time. If he would have had our kitchen delivered and installed on time, our boxes would not have been in his way. For him to have the nerve to complain about our stuff being in his way in our apartment when he is the one who is inconveniencing us is absurd!!! Even though the reason our boxes were in the way was because the moving people did not unpack them like they were supposed to. Getting people to do their job is hard, to go a little above and beyond- practically impossible. </div><div><br /></div><div>Moral of the story to my American friends, be thankful for America. Be wary of this socialist model economy Obama is trying to put into effect. That is the type of "customer service" that will come out of it. People won't care about their jobs and will refuse to work hard because they can always fall back on the welfare system. Seriously, what I would give to hop on a crowded subway and have somebody say, "Ma'am, here take my seat," just out of common courtesy because I'm female and pregnant.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wow.. what a bitch session. Things I'm thankful for: 1. My husband- it is so nice to be able to talk to him about anything going on, especially during this trying transition period. 2. My mom- she listens to my rants at all hours, and I know they can get bad. 3. My healthy little gobble monster growing at a rapid pace in my belly. 4. Jenn- she helps remind me, "I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy." 5. This experience- while frustrating at times, it is helping me grow as a person more than I ever would have at home. Germany really is a good place. It is just different, and I'm a spoiled brat. I'm guessing 6 more months here and a baby will undo the 25 1/2 years of being a spoiled little princess. BOB SAGET!!!</div>Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-82480921925843889932010-06-06T10:40:00.003+02:002010-06-06T11:33:11.058+02:00Finally Sunday...<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>What a freaking week this has been! I was just woken up by maybe one of the stinkiest farts ever, and since it didn't wake my husband up I thought I'd recap a little of what has been going on since Thursday.<div><br /></div><div>Needless to say shopping has NOT been fun, and it is a huge</div><div> hassle in Germany. On Thursday I got up determined to find exactly what we needed. I started my day of shopping (by myself, mind you) at Mobel Kraft. It is like an upscale Ikea where they actually put the furniture together for you. The Germans call it FURNITURE FORCE. Kinda creepy.. I found some stuff for Sylvia's room, a really nice rocker, an entertainment center a little out of our price range, and Noah a cute little to-go cup for his coffee. I was actually feeling on top of the world at this point seeing that, "I did good." After paying for Noah's little coffee cup I go to leave the store and WHAM!!! I walked out the emergency exit setting off all the alarms in the place. Completely embarrassed by what had happened, I waddled my giant, pregnant self out as quickly as possible only to hear the piercing sounds of sirens. Good to know Germany's fire department has a pretty good response time... FML</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Friday, I had my first appointment with the doctor. I was quite unnerved about going by myself, but I put on my big girl panties and did it anyway. It was actually painless. The receptionist/nurse spoke sufficing English, and she was very sweet. She and the doctor were also very accommodating to my American ways. The doctor isn't big on the idea of a c-section, and will be monitoring little Sylvia's growth every 2 weeks until she can have a better idea of how big she is really going to be. I got to see my little gobble monster though.. weighing in at a whopping 2 pounds and 6 ounces...</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsOgsvO0ommj58u8i17MZ9l3sMrIqpnvn5iQZBQEgybqBtgzBeS2HgpUMkPdP-3lfXTJXIhZvI41qpAsOc9GLPXmZ_iM-Qr89Wy9L8R_WfNakH9Y9g5EkY0Ev5mz06hyphenhyphencJVyxAJl0ONkeb/s320/blogsylvia.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479587121926861186" /><div>When Noah made it home that night, we decided to go to Ikea to figure out the rest of this shopping. We spend at least 4 hours designing closets (German rooms don't have built in closets) and an entertainment center that ended up not even being able to hold his massive tv. We were so annoyed by the lack of customer service near closing time that Noah finally just got on a phone and started dialing numbers hoping somebody would pick up. After making the decision to come back first thing Saturday morning (figuring it was 10, I was exhausted, and supppeeerrrrr cranky) we headed out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Saturday, we got up, cranked out the Ikea crap early, and decided since it was 75 out that we should head to THE ZOO!!!!!!!!!! I had been waiting for this day since I found out we were moving to Berlin. We had a lovely day just walking around and looking at all the animals. One, in particular, stood out from the crowd. Please google a male tapir penis. IT IS AS LONG AS HIS LEGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! </div><div><br /></div><div>Ok, time to start our Sunday taking a boat cruise, hanging out in the park, and doing basically nothing :) I love Sundays!!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4525862938238160723.post-57791430589388215302010-06-02T11:00:00.004+02:002010-06-02T11:52:00.481+02:00No better time than the present...I've been wanting to start blogging about my adventures as a wife, giant pregnant lady, and I guess grown up for a while now. I guess there is no better time to start talking about my adult life than when I'm sick in bed, missing my mommy. I've been in Germany for about 11 days now, and I've been sick about 9 of them. So far it's been pretty hectic. We did the final walk through of our apartment, and the kitchen wasn't installed in time. Our move-in date was pushed back to June 12. We've been running around like mad looking for furniture in a city that is NOT centered on customer service. I feel like I'm at Dicks in Myrtle Beach every time we go out to eat somewhere other than an Asian place. My husband is really being wonderful though. He's been busting his butt all week making sure my insurance is set so I can get to the doctor and hopefully get better. I'm just afraid I'm allergic to this city. Right now, it's 54 and rainy out, and this is the warmest day yet this week. When I left Orlando, it was 95 and sunny. I'm pretty sure it's close to the same in LKN. Even if I can't get better, it will be nice to get settled with the doctor that will hopefully see me through the last 13 weeks of my pregnancy. Aside from being sick, Noah has shown me some pretty amazing things in this city. They have the most amazing markets on the weekends. You can buy anything from fresh fish to fresh fruit to mustards to honey to handmade jewelry to real fur coats (yes, I'll need one for winter) to gorgeous antiques. *Side note- I saw a fox coat that looked just like Prissy. I really wanted it. I miss that mean little mutt.* The lifestyle is so slow paced over here. On Sundays, really all you do is spend time with your loved ones. There are no malls or anything open. You're not even allowed to mow your grass or do laundry if you're in an apartment building. A big change I've noticed in myself- I used to look forward to Sundayfunday to go get trashed on the lake. Now, I look forward to walking through the park with Noah just enjoying each other. We don't have to worry about anything to do with the apartment or his job because there is absolutely nothing that can be done until Monday. Ok, time to get back in bed. Hubby's orders :)Mrs. Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02604620418531183504noreply@blogger.com0