The Quiet Life of Violet

Airports, Cones, Bad & Good Bangs

Wednesday, we drove out to the San Francisco Airport and picked up Mr. Keith.

(Heart melting!!)

We drove to the Wharf and had In-N-Out for lunch (Keith loved it!).


(Swoon!)

After that, we went to The Kintetsu Mall in Japantown. LaLa had at the paper store (I KNEW she'd love it!), we explored the bookstore and then had pretty little crepes and cones!




(That's what we do to bad little crepes. Get in muh BELLY!)

By that time, it was 3:30-ish and everyone was tired (especially Keith, who had gotten up at 2:30am, CA time to make his flight). After dropping Keith and Leigh-Ann off at their hotel, Bubby and I came home, had Chinese food and then relaxed for the rest of the evening.

I took a shower to wind down, got out and decided that I wanted to cut my bangs. WARNING: If you ever find yourself with your hair in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other and the words "I want BOLD bags" crosses your mind, for the love of sweet God, put the scissors down.

 

Because you might end up with Ringo bangs.
Bad, bad man hair.

Dustin pity laughed at me and I kept bouncing between crying and laughing at myself. I sent a text to my friend Jewels and she told me to come over in the morning and she'd make me feel pretty.


(Taken yesterday before Jewel's fixed me up. I am Mrs. Ringo.)

AND......

 

I'm cute again!! Squeee!

I was so impressed - she snip, snip, snip snipped and had my bangs looking so nice in about three minutes flat. She showed me how to blow dry them and gave me a little spray and... MAGIC!

Hope you all have an amazing Friday!

La, Keith, Bub and I are headed out to Santa Cruz for some beach fun.
Can't wait to share pictures!

 
Love,
Little Miss Violet

P.S. - Check back tomorrow for my weekly (that I forgot to do last week) belly post! Lots to share.

 

(Two clicks for Moms with hot bangs!) -->

Yesterday Was Friday

Oh. My. Gosh.

 

Thursday after the ultrasound and during the pedicures that Leigh-Ann and I were getting, I got a call. I let it go to voice mail since chatting on the phone while with a friend who flew over 1,000 miles to see me just isn't my style.  I listened to the voice mail later and was informed that I had been schedule for a Non-Stress test on Friday, the next day.

I had a whole fun Friday planned out for us and an appointment that was scheduled without my consent and without reason, just wasn't going to happen. I decided to call first thing on yesterday and get it straightened out.

Once I was able to get ahold of the nurse, she directed me to the Non-Stress Test (NST) technician and the conversation included such terms as:

• Ultrasound Doctor called last night
• Urgent
• Baby is too small
• Problems
• HAVE to come in for the test
• Possible heart problems
• Possible emergency c-section

Yeah, I flipped the freak out.  I had, in my head,  convinced myself that it was over. The end of Squid.

I call my Doula, Michelle, and tell her what's going on and she so soothing. She tells me not to worry and that the nurse was TOTALLY out of line to even mention anything that she did. That she actually had to have NSTs with her daughter and she failed a few. That if, for some reason, they wanted to do a c-section, to tell them that I was going to need a day (unless Squid was in peril danger, of course) to go home and pack and think about it. To not let anyone bully me into anything, because they do. I can tell you first hand that they do, from cancer doctors to baby doctors, most want to fit you into THEIR schedule, with little thought about what's best and most calming for you.

I texted Dustin and told him that he HAD to come with me. He was training the guy who is taking over his route (Dustin has been promoted to manager), so they were in the middle of their day. Bub was able to do some magic trick and ended up being able to meet me half way and he came with me to my appointment. We get lost (how, I don't even know) on the way, ended up being 15 minutes late. I cried most of the way and Dustin cursed, mostly for getting lost and the nurse who scared me and a bit for how messed up his day was, too.

 

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.


The leaves rustle outside the room where I lay on a hospital bed, monitor strapped to my little belly. Tears  fall. My heart, head, eyes hurt. My heart HURTS. Dustin has to sit outside in the waiting room, as there are other ladies (with huge bellies) also getting the same test done in the four-bed room.

I email my Mom on my phone. Listen to the "whoosh" of Squid's heart beat with bitter fear. Try and read an outdated InStyle magazine and just end up getting frusterated while I skim across pictures of pregnant movie stars. They don't have huge bellies either, though. I can't bear to touch my tummy because the thought of having Squid cut from me makes me want to vomit.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

After a good 45 minutes of laying there, it's determined that Squid's heart beat and response to what ever is going on inside my womb is fine. He's FINE. He's small, in the bottom 10 percentile, but he moves and his heart is strong and my placenta is fabulous, as well as my blood pressure.

Dr. M., My normal doctor's partner,  reassures me that the baby is strong and was only worried since I have protein in my urine, an indication of Pre-eclampsia, but I inform him that I've have protein in my pee even before I was pregnant due to my Whipple Procedure. He said that some babies are just small, and since he's pretty much ruled out fetal stress, placental abnormalities and Pre-eclampsia, that it might just be that he's going to be small. Perfect, but small.

I tell him about the woman who mentioned emergency c-section. His eyes widen. He is visibly angry that someone in his office would say that to any patient. DAMN RIGHT. He tells me that he's defiantly going to have a "talk" with his nurses and this really relieves me

I spent a whole day feeling like my heart was being ripped from my chest and beat with a wiffle ball bat.

And he's fine.

 

 

Dustin, Leigh-Ann and I are off to go celebrate this small boy with family, my second shower.

<3

 

Church Tongue

Sunday night, after four hours in the car:

[Leigh-Ann at the wheel. The flattest drive of my life!]

and two three hour flights (plus time waiting in the airport):

I arrived in San Francisco where the love of my whole life was waiting for me. 

 

That was the longest day of travel in my whole life.  Wheeling from one side of an airport to the other with a huge carry-on bag (on the back of my chair), a pair of crutches, a purse and a beluga whale sized laptop is not super easy,  but I'm stubborn and determined to do things by myself.

When I boarded my second (and last) plane, I had a total meltdown. I was hungry and tired and they put me in row 42 of 42. Way in the back. Crutching the length of the plane pissed me off and then my carry-on bag wouldn't fit under my seat and the male stewardess (steward?) told me I had to move it to an overhead bin and I had to, through tears, explain to him that I couldn't move the bag up to the front myself because I have one leg and can't just walk and hold things. I totally snapped at him and bawled for a good five minutes while my seat neighbors sat there awkwardly.

My seat neighbors actually turned out to be so, so  nice. I had (sadly) judged them before we boarded the plane and though to myself, " Wow, that man is SO nerdy. Like, Urkle status." When him and (whom I later found out was) his fiance  sat next to me, I sighed and wished it had been someone a bit less nerdy (hey I was tired! My mind had obviously turned to mush!). In the end, I was lucky to have been put in the back with those two nerds <3. They offered me tissue and almonds and the man cracked the funniest jokes. Half way through my flight, I was smiling and (with the help of a $7 "snack pack") was fed. I apologized to the steward(ess?) for my behaviour and he was SUPER nice to me the rest of the flight home.

After we landed, I loaded up my wheelchair once again and found my way down to the luggage claim where my hunky husband was waiting. I jumped into his arms like a baby koala and I french kissed that boy in public and didn't even care. It wasn't a sloppy french kiss, though.. it was more like... "church tongue."

We rode BART (the Bay Area's metro system) home and then went out to Berkeley and had food at our favorite Mexican place. I laughed at the prices of the food, since meals in Canada are WAY more expensive than they are here at home.

Dustin drove us home. I was beyond tired by that time, so he carried me from the car, threw me in the shower and soaped me up (yeah, baby!) . Nothing like having someone else wash your hair and dry you off.

Home for me is where ever that boy is, so I spent the night in the arms of my home. Couldn't have asked for anything more.

1,300 Things to Be Thankful For (week 18)

 

426. Skyping with the love of my whole life (and flashing a boob).  ;D

427. Finding blogs with pretty pictures that the blog owners took themselves.

428. Dance parties in the car.

429. New pack of bobbie pins.

430. Homemade, gluten-free chicken strips


431. Pretty pea-green velvet cushions on Leigh-Ann's couch.

432. The town of Morden, Manitoba.

433. Beautiful patina on vintage door hinges.

434. Plucking out the first few grey hairs.

435. "99 Bottle of Beer on the Wall."

436. Getting tripped up on the freeway when I see the signs --  "Maximum 100" ... that's 100 kilometers per hour, not miles per hour! Gets me every time!

437. Making sugar scrubs for my lips.

438. The cherry chocolate-y brown color of my eyes.

439. "Snap, Crackle & Pop."

440. Giant popcorn bags at the movies.

441. Pretty ponytails on twenty-somethings.

442. This picture I took of myself a few years ago. It makes me realize how much I love my tattoo and my wedding ring.

443. Miniature ponies.

444. Hand-sewn quilts.

445. Pretty boys who speak french.

446. Roadtrips = funny faces and multiple people with bandannas and sunglasses.

447. Holly's business, McKenna Salon & Spa.  The Aveda products were amazing! Ahhhh.

448. Laundry baskets with sweet smelling, freshly folded linens.

449. "This Little Piggy..."

450. Really deep talks with Leigh-Ann. Giggles, God, men, babies, tears & "We gotta go to sleep!"

 

Flashback Fridays -- Prom: Thank Heaven for Mugs

 

Senior Prom. 2002. 

Dustin and I had been together since the winter of Junior year and going to prom together was a no-brainer. We gathered up a group of his friends, shared a limo and took pictures together.You know, normal Prom stuff.

How was the Prom? The tickets were $80 a pop. It was at some odd bank (who has prom in a bank?!) in San Francisco, the food was pitiful and cold (COLD!) and the music was ALL bump and grind nasty.

It was so weird seeing all of the people that I had spent the last four years with, all dressed up like we were adults. Gloves, ties, tiaras, dresses that barely contained their cleavage.  Ha! If you look at the picture above, you'll notice that I didn't get the memo on purchasing a dress that properly fit a less robust bosom.

As the night wound down, we were ushered out of the bank/prom site and had the option to take home either a souvenir wine glass or a mug. We all wanted wine glasses, but they had just run out and we were only able to take mugs. A little disappointed, but not a huge deal to us. We shuffled down to our limousine, got in and in an attempt to fill our less-than-satisfied tummies and prolong the last moments of our Prom, we decided to stop at a diner for some late night grub. 

Three words: Chicken Pot Pie.

One of our party members decided that he was really hungry and bought and ate an entire (giant) personal sized pot pie. Gravy. Carrots. Crust.

Let me just say that by the time we got home, we were ALL glad that we hadn't gotten wine glasses.

I doubt they are still there, but along four spots on the side of the freeway, we pulled over and deposited mugs of our friend's pot pie. I'm sure you get the (gross) picture.

Oh gosh, I need a Tums just thinking about THAT adventure.

What a Prom, hey? Hehehe.

 

Have a wonderful, pot pie-free weekend!

Up a Mountain, On a Boat.

Last weekend, Bubby and I, along with Miss Natalie and Mr. Matt, drove north to Forbestown (a tiny little town by Oroville) to spend the weekend with Matt's parents.

The four of us:

• Matt is the funniest, kindest smart-ass anyone could ever meet.
• Natalie is my little Wisconsinite Pixie (she grew up in Green Bay), with a heart of gold and a snappy, sexy little sense of humor that I adore.
• Dustin.. well, you know. That boy is my everything. He's hot and sweet and had the best "skin"smell ever. I tell him that I hope our babies smell like him, because it's just the most fabulous experience to be in his presence and breathe him in.  
• Me. What can I say about me? I like soup. I have five toes. Carnations are one of my favorite flowers. My toots rival those of the fattest men (and I don't even deny it).

So, that's the four of us.. the Fantastic Four.

Here is our mini-vacation, in pictures: