Jenni's blog

We just saw Avatar

Some time ago I was told how rockets get into space. They are launched straight up, but because of the Earth's gravitational pull they can't continue straight up or they'd never get there. So they tilt and shoot out of reach in an arch, and it supposedly works because the Earth is curved. They slip out before they hit the ground. I'm not an engineer so I don't know if it's complete and utter bullshit or not, but I think it is, hands down, the best thing I've heard in a long time. Means Douglas Adams was right in the Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy: all it takes to fly is fall down and miss the earth.

The 36th week starts today, so we're 5 weeks away (yup, the system they use to count this is confusing. 35 weeks 0 days - 35 weeks 6 days is the 36th week.) from my due date. I'm scared shitless.

Yesterday we went to see the picasso-exhibition at Ateneum (The Finnish National Gallery).

I'm 2 days away from maternity leave and oh sweet lord the amount of things I will finally have time to do! First on the list is going to the salon to have something done about this thing on my head. My hair looks like it has been attacked by a vicious rodent.

All the stuff I'm going to do is really going to take a big-ass chunk of all that time I'm soon going to have on my hands (precious, sweet, delicious time), seeing as I'm about as mobile as a snail in glue. And have I mentioned even once about the exhaustion? 3 colleagues of mine have been to work sick, and now they're all extremely amazed because I seem to have caught the flu from some mystical source. Which is nice because breathing was so easy when there was just this 2,5 kg kid kicking and pushing at my lungs. I've always loved a bit of a challenge.

This sort of means that things like standing upright have become a bit of a battle, and I've handled it like a man: I complained loudly about the absence of proper chairs in the shower for all the pregnant people in this household. Hellooo! Awkward and huge women over here! So my ever so thoughtfu husband pushed in a gymball for me to sit on. In the shower. Yes, this is the point we have arrived at. Hi Mom.

But gymballs in the shower are awesome! Very comfortable to sit on, not to mention they're like these huge toys! So it was all working out very smoothly for me for a while. Until I sort of discovered that soapy gymballs in a soapy room (what? I like bubbles.) are sort of hazardous. I'll cut a long story short and just say that I was very lucky that my husband was at home to lift me up off the floor.

And I'm no longer allowed to shower without adult supervision.

Hey, Honey? How would you feel about babysitting a puppy of a colleague of mine? For that trip we're taking in a few weeks?

A puppy?! Sure! As long as it doesn't pee in the house.

I think it won't. It should be trained.

How old is the pup? And what kind of puppy are we talking?

Kofi is about 2, I think.

2?! That's hardly a puppy, babe. How big is Kofi?

Oh... you know. About 45 kg. I think he is a Bullmastiff.

I think we have to have a discussion about terms like "small" and "puppy" sometime soon.

This sucks.

It's been almost a year since I got my life back and I still can't believe it. You can read about it here and here.

The plastic face is still an option, but it probably won't happen in the near future. Still going for a check-up after popping the kid out because Superdoc thought pregnancy might tell my brain the face is ok when it might not be.

You guys can't even believe how many different kinds of awesome the past painfree year has been. I've slept like a baby for at least the part of the year I wasn't expecting one. I've eaten pretty much anything I want to, and I've been more alert and a much nicer person than I have been in years. (Which in reality isn't that much of an improvement on my part because I'm still sort of a shit to begin with.)

And abso-fucking-lutely no painkillers for a whole goddamn year!

Yesterday the kid started kicking me in my right lung and/or solar plexus. All. Day. Long. Coincidentally also all night long. So this morning my lung and/or solar plexus had had it and I drove to work only to puke in the trashcan by my parking space. Since logic has not been sighted in at least 6 months, my first thought was Oh God I'm in still in the first trimester!

Outside my head, in real life, I'm less than 2 weeks away from maternity leave. Which also means that in less than 2 weeks I will stop wearing pants. I don't care what anyone thinks because at this point it just doesn't pay off to dress myself. Christmas with the family might be a bit awkward, though.

Christmas is around the corner, and I've conveniently forgotten all about it. Normally I love christmas to bits. I love the lights, the feelings, getting people gifts and all that. I would totally date christmas if I could.

This year when the topic of christmas first came up I was still thinking it was september. And that I was probably still in the first trimester. It feels like it's just another hurdle to get through before we can finally have this baby. Just another thing to wait out.

But now I'm actually starting to look forward to it. Apart from the puking, the total exhaustion and the realization that breathing is in fact optional and not at all compulsory for survival as I had thought before, I'm starting to feel pretty good. The house is almost (and I use the term loosely) finished, I'm almost (still, loosely) on maternity leave, pantsless, it's almost christmas (yay!) and we're almost (You can't even believe how loosely) on our way to having a baby.

Even if I'm still in the first trimester.