FMLA

No, surprisingly I don't mean anything inappropriate with this acronym. (And how dare you accuse me of such! *wink*) I'm actually referring to the Family and Medical Leave Act, to which I will be taking advantage, in hopefully less then five weeks. According to the U.S. Department of Labor, FMLA entitles eligible employees to 12 work weeks of leave for the birth of a child.

Unpaid.

Uh-huh.

If only we lived in Europe, or anywhere else in the world for that matter. (Seriously!)

Anyway, as someone who has worked and earned a paycheck pretty much every two weeks since I was legally allowed to do so (detassling anyone?), going 12 weeks without such a paycheck is scarier to me then any impending childbirth. Luckily – knock on wood – I have an employed husband, a tax return to cover our deductible and some savings for things like, you know, food and stuff.

All bullshit aside, there's the potential for things to get a little hairy around our house and for that I am more than a tiny bit anxious. To that end, I've been researching and contacting nearly all of our bill collectors to see if we have any wiggle room in the way of paying the bills this summer. Surprisingly, most have been very helpful and willing to work something out with us. Aside from being able to defer all three of our student loans (please tell me we're not the only ones still paying off these bastards), we can also defer both car payments as well as lower our utility bill for the duration. And all of this we can do without any ill affect on our credit ratings, which frankly I wasn't so sure about since every time I called a company with such a question they automatically referred me to their collections department.

With both Shawn and I home, we'll also be saving a nice chunk of change in gas money. Shakopee is more then a stone's throw from our house so avoiding that round-trip alone will help keep food on the table and diapers on the baby. Also, while we still plan to send Maci to daycare at least halftime (for her sanity as well as ours), we have that option of having her home more which may come in handy should the well officially run dry.

(Let's just hope Mama's FREE liquid gold doesn't.)

In the meantime, pretty sure we'll use and abuse quite a few familiar faces to help occupy our attention: ol' Redbox, the local library, the big blue plastic pool and Como park and zoo.

And if all else fails, there's always 82 televised Twins games slotted for this summer…

**

How 'bout you? Ever gone through an unpaid leave? Got any tips, tricks or advice? Or free-will donations to send?

Random

I am 33 weeks, 3 days pregnant and I have a lot on my mind. A LOT. And not just baby stuff – although assembling cribs, washing onesies and packing my hospital bag are at the top – all kinds of stuff weave in and out of my consciousness all, day, long. So this is my method of recording my current mental state, you know, for future reminiscing. In no particular order, here are my completely random thoughts: the good, the bad and the overwhelmingly negative. Effing weather.

**

I despise getting mail addressed to Mrs. Shawn DeBoer. If I ever find her, I'm going to hurt her.

Great quote I heard on the radio: "To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries." -Aldous Huxley

I am in love with my new chair from Pier One. And with Wells Fargo's Mobile Deposit.

154 spent casings were recovered from the scene of the Newtown shooting. It is estimated at under five minutes from the time the shooter entered the school to when he took his own life. I do not understand the need for high-capacity ammunition magazines.

Great question to ask yourself when in a marital dispute: "Would you rather be right or happy?" -Michelle Washington

My daughter is pushing 21 months and still only has four teeth. She is going to be a painfully late bloomer. Whew!

How to Have the Best Pregnancy Ever is the single greatest pregnancy-related article I have ever read.

I am in search of the world's best purse. Help.

Another great quote I heard on the radio: "Homosexuality is not a choice, but homophobia is." -unknown

If you have not seen this yet, you MUST watch. It's Dove's Real Beauty Sketches. It is brilliant and painfully accurate.

Jersey Mikes is coming to Woodbury!

Shawn and I are going to Italy in just under two years for our 10-year anniversary. That's less then 730 days!

Did you know you can now take used clothing into an H&M and they'll give you a coupon for 15% off your next purchase?

I miss Steven Tyler, especially 2:35 minutes into this clip.

I found out I was pregnant on September 30th. The first snow fell in Minnesota on October 4th. Today is April 17th and there is still snow on the ground … and I'm due in six weeks.

Addition:
I'm fond of the fact that now all my cleaning rituals and neurosis can be labeled as "nesting."

Update:
The Mae Monster just popped her fifth tooth last weekend. I fear more in the future as she is a professional, drooling fool.

Packing

For some reason, still unbeknownst to me, I did not have a bag packed for the hospital when Maci came a callin'. I'm organized, I'm a planner, I'm type A. What went wrong? No idea but my best guess is, I just assumed I'd always have more time. I didn't. She came well before 40 weeks and Shawn and I ended up making the unexpected drive to the hospital on a Friday afternoon after he picked me up from work. At the time, I didn't care but now, I'm bound and determined to be packed and ready when Cletus comes a knockin'. And at almost 33 weeks, it's high time I dig out the luggage.

To that end, I'm soliciting the advice of all mothers. What did or would you pack in your hospital bag? What did you bring that maybe you could've done without? What didn't you bring that you wish you had? You get the idea.

Here's what BabyCenter suggests:

• Change of clothes
• Toothbrush
• A photograph or object to focus on during labor
• Snacks to keep your energy up and gum or mints for bad breath (Sidenote: Seriously? Who gives a shit about your breath when you're in labor?)
• Cozy socks and slippers
• Your favorite pillow
• Some light reading material
• A nursing nightie and nursing bra
• A going-home outfit for your baby
• A camera or camcorder, fresh batteries, and film (Sidenote: Film? Really? Hello 2013.), if necessary

Here's what I'm thinking:

• My own clothes (for all stages of delivery)
• Toothbrush and toothpaste
• My own pillow (and possibly blanket)
• Electronics (phones, iPods, laptop, camera, Flip – chargers for all)
• Digs for Cletus
• Toiletries (shampoo, conditioner, soap, mascara)
• Snacks (Sidenote: Can you even have any while you're in labor? I didn't think you could because I was about to faint from low blood sugar mid-labor with Maci and Shawn had to politely demand they give me something. They kept telling me it was just fatigue from labor and I just needed rest. He knew better and after I downed some apple juice, I was back in business. LOVED him for that.)
• Magazines (I won't have enough concentration for a book)

What say you? 

Easter

Team DeBoer's Easter weekend went a little something … lika dees.

Friday: Nada. Probably went to bed early.

Saturday: While I finished painting her new room, Shawn took Mae Mo on a field trip to Cabela's in Rogers. Having never been there, he thought she'd get a kick out of the animals and fish.

Mmhmm.

Turns out, not only were they having a visit from the Easter Bunny himself (albeit a very freaky, wide-eyed, scary-looking Easter bunny), they were having an Easter egg hunt as well, with camo eggs and everything! I was pretty bummed to hear the report upon their return. Not because they stumbled onto unexpected fun without me, but because they stumbled onto unexpected fun while I was at home, painting trim, with my pregnant belly and achy appendages. At least I got the room done and got to enjoy some of the chocolate bounty Maci brought home. She's such a good sharer.

Sunday: The Mae Monster awoke and after some redirection, discovered the basket the Easter Bunny left her.

Immediately, she made a beeline straight for the Play-Doh! And that Easter Bunny was worried she wouldn't know what it was … ha!

With some coaxing, we got her to put the Play-Doh down and dig a little deeper … where she found some fake, fifty-cent grass. Score.

Upon further inspection, turns out she thought everything else (a purple sock monkey, a couple animal books and her very own fruity flavored chapsticks – because she's always swiping ours) was pretty cool too… 

…just not as cool as that Play-Doh.

After exploring her Easter basket, we sat down for a little Easter breakfast. We didn't prepare anything particularly special. In fact, Maci had the usual: a nana, a waffo (with hunee), yohgert and meelk. While the menu wasn't anything entertaining, Mae Mo sure was. As with what tends to happen at most meal times, (ahem) Shawn DeBoer's daughter turns into quite the little clown. Her and her father may or may not have been making silly faces at each other.

After the basket, after breakfast, after church and brunch and a nap, the Mae Mobile went on a little ol' egg pursuit. Turns out, I didn't get one single, solitary photo from the actual hunting process (because we were videotaping the whole extravaganza), but we did get some evidence of her enjoying the contents of her eggs: Mini Reese's Easter Peanut Butter Eggs. She knew how to get the foil wrapper off and ate the whole cake in one take! Apple of my eye that one.

Basket: discovered! Church: attended! Eggs: hunted! Chalk this Easter 2013 up as a sugary success!

Dad

Three years, two pregnancies and one new job later, so much has changed since Dad passed. Still, my memories of him remain staunch: strict yet goofy, opinionated yet shy, neurotic yet artistic. (Wait … am I describing him or me?) He and his wardrobe were one of a kind and I miss them both dearly.

I was gliding through Easter weekend unscathed (with the exception of a few thoughtful texts from friends) when "Piano Man" came on Pandora while I was painting, and as soon as that damn harmonica started in, so did the tears. Try as I might to only think of the good, it's still painful to remember … that I have to remember. I don't want memories I want him here, telling me stories, making fun of Shawn and entertaining my kids. But if there's anything I've learned since he's been gone, what I want doesn't matter because I'm fastened in reality and such is life and loss. I hate it, I can't change it and it continues to suck. And the word suck doesn't even do it justice.

On the bright side (if there is one), one of the greatest gifts I received after he died was a slew of old photos from family and friends. Photos of him from high school, from my childhood and more, Polaroids even. Evidence of Dad…

…sleeping on the floor. Funny to see this was apparently a habit of his way prior to any of my memories of it. And of course, there's the infamous Kawaski shirt.  

…wearing hats. (Or would the kids these days call them skull caps?) I've seen him in many a stocking hat, sitting on the top of his head, never down far enough to cover his ears. He always told us the majority of your body heat escapes through the top of your head anyway. Apparently this was also a practice of his since well before my time. 

…looking like Ty. Or should I say Ty looking like Dad? I think the photo below is an eerily similar appearance of the two. They must be related. 

…hanging out with little ol' me. Rumor has it, I was a pretty happy and mellow baby, and I'm sure, always very well behaved.

…sneaking Mandi cake batter. And now we all know where that habit started!

…just as I remember him. Very frequently with long hair (sometimes tamed with a red bandanna), usually bearded, rarely smiling in photos, always sporting some individual flair.

"When tragedy befalls you, don't let them bring you down… Love can cure your problem, you're so lucky I'm (still) around"  

Museum

So it turns out, there is a ton of stuff to do around here … for FREE. My favorite price! Last fall, we visited Minnehaha Falls, Como Zoo and the crowd-favorite carousel. Last December, we attended our first Holidazzle parade and viewed Macy's annual holiday display. Last month, we discovered the Minnesota Children's Museum and their Target Free 3rd Sundays.

"Thanks to the generosity of Target Corporation, visitors can roam the Museum free of charge, every third Sunday of each month, from 9 a.m. - 5 p.m." So that's exactly what we did. And it was amazing! The museum's web site warns of large crowds, long lines and lengthy winter waits, however, we showed up right before 9am and walked right in (amongst few other visitors). Ah the blessings of Maci waking up at the crack of dawn.

We crawled through ant hills…

…and discovered the Queen ant.

We played in the water with plumbing, ping pong balls…

…and bubbles.

We very patiently waited our turn to drive the city bus…

…which we took to the local market to get some cheese.

Finally, we ended our morning with a story, a snack…

…and some silliness.

I predict many, many more visits to this wonderful destination, especially in the dead of winter, two tired parents with two stir-crazy kiddos in tow. Team DeBoer hearts Target. 

Pregnancy

This post is chopped full of TMI. Don't say I didn't warn you.

In my Discourse post, I loosely described my pregnancy as difficult. In hindsight, that wasn't exactly … accurate. I'm not having complications, I'm not on bed rest, I do not have preeclampsia, gestational diabetes or placenta previa, and for all intents and purposes, Cletus is healthy, growing and kung-fo-fighting. And it's just Celtus; no twins, no triplets, no multiples. It goes without saying that for all of the above, I am very thankful. The sheer miracle of conceiving and growing a human being is not lost on me albeit it does remain hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's an indescribable adventure unlike any other and one I am forever grateful I was able to experience.

All that being said, pregnancy is not pretty. At least not for me.

I am the poster child of pain and fatigue, of stretchy pants and stretchy marks. Aside from completely different food cravings (and aversions), I would describe Pregnancy Part II as identical to, but much more intense, than Pregnancy Part I. I'm having all the same side effects and issues, just much sooner, much worse and much, much more painful. I am a walking, talking science experiment and I long for the day I have my body back.

Aside from the intense fatigue (which is partially due to my recently-discovered iron-deficiency), there's of course the fierce heart burn, strong hip and lower back pain and many, many a sleeping problem. For most of this, at least for the pain anyway, I blame Maci. Being pregnant with a very active toddler at home makes pregnancy a horse of a completely different color. Everything that ails you is magnified and there's often no rest for the weary. Luckily, I have a very helpful husband who takes a brunt of the grunt work but if I at all want to be involved in the Mae Monster's life right now, resting is not an option.

When it comes down to it though, nothing, NOTHING compares to the biggest problem of them all. The mother of all my pregnancy complaints. The real reason for this post. Brace yourself while I try to put this … delicately. Veins. I suffer from varicose veins (…she declares, right arm raised, head held in shame). The words alone make me gag so I apologize for the crudeness but someone has got to educate others about this subject because I had no idea the extent to which one person can suffer. I'm going to let BabyCenter.com define them for you:

"Varicose veins are swollen veins that may bulge near the surface of the skin. These blue or purple, sometimes squiggly veins are most likely to show up in your legs, though you may also get them in your vulva or elsewhere. (In fact, hemorrhoids are really just varicose veins of the rectal area.)"

Mm-hm. "… bulge … blue or purple … squiggly … vulva … hemorrhoids." Check, check, check, check, check. They are the most irritating, unattractive and painful part of my pregnancy. And they basically occupy the entire left side of my trunk. The ENTIRE left side. So-much-so that I have resorted to purchasing and dawning what can only be described as the female version of a jock, just for the support and pain relief it brings. Mrs. Hotty-tot I am not.

(Moment of silence for my poor, poor husband.)

It turns out varicose veins are hereditary, they do not affect labor and delivery and chances are they will improve after pregnancy. Still, they're a bitch. And I hate them. Oh and you will never ever see me in a pair of shorts or a skirt again. Oh yeah, I never wore them anyway. HA! And you thought I never looked on the bright side of things!

Anyway, now that we got that out of the way … I'd like to end with a little story. I was in the bathroom the other day, peeing for probably the sixth time and once I was finished, I wiped, redressed and stood up. Immediately I undressed, sat back down and peed again.

The end. Unless … maybe you'd also like to share your pregnancy experiences, wisdom and woes? What if I offer you chocolate? I'm easily persuaded by chocolate. Or cadbury eggs. Or Pepsi. I digress. I'm off to the bathroom …

Leo

As I originally revealed here, we relinquished Mister Leo back to Basset Buddies Rescue in the hopes he would find that perfect home he needs to wain his stress and anxiety and obsessive need for attention. Sounds like he's one step closer.

Update : I just heard from BBR again and … "Leo is doing great. He was adopted by a family with older children and a lab. They love him. The mom is home much of the time and he gets lots of attention. He is doing very well."

Discourse

So I've been hemming and hawing over whether or not to continue this blog. If hemming sits on the side of continuing, hawing has definitely been winning out. This is probably pretty apparent seeings as my posts have been few and far between. I can blame much for my absence: Team DeBoer being down with the sickness, a difficult pregnancy, a 9pm bedtime, my nagging need for posts to be perfect prior to posting … but basically, it's been my general lack of time, ambition or motivation. If I've mustered any "free" time lately, all I've wanted to do is sit down and watch TV. And by that I mean watch one of two television shows I pay attention to: The Amazing Race and The Daily Show. Every other minute of my day has been spent sleeping, working, looking after Maci, spending time with Shawn, ignoring Norman, baby-prepping, budgeting, reading, cooking, cleaning, bathing and carrying around way too much weight. Being overwhelmed with what is every day, blogging got put on the back burner. Something more important, pertinent or necessary always came up.

But then … something happened.

I discovered this little widget called, "Popular Posts." I applied it to my blog layout and up populated a post called Grandpa Miller. A couple others that followed closely were entitled Cletus (ironically one's about the first, the other's about the sequel). Still others read Challenge, Stories and Question. Even random posts titled Touchdown, Soda and Chicago appeared. Last but not least, there was a photo montage of the Mae Meister. As I reread these entries I quickly remembered why I ever bothered with this whole blogging thing in the first place: I want to remember. Things are worth recording and you know what, I'm a pretty damn good writer, and entertaining at that. I found myself chuckling out loud at my own work. I found myself tearing up, smiling, furrowing my brow and admiring my photos. I found myself hemming again.

Then, as if to compound my mere efforts to make memories a permanent part of written history, I had two people approach me in the same week asking about my issues with anxiety. It could have been a crazy coincidence or it could have been that others were grateful for my openness and honesty regarding somewhat personal or taboo topics. Others related to what I was saying and found enough comfort in my approach to ask me more about it. Sometimes I may say too much making people feel nothing but uncomfortable but other times, I unintentionally make myself an advocate. Again I remember. I remember back to what it feels like to be in the middle of your own crazy and nothing makes you feel better then learning you're not alone and that someone else knows what you're going through. Misery may love company but company is necessary to deal with misery. Thus, my hemming grew.

The last straw, we traded in my 24-inch iMac for a 15-inch MacBook Pro. Gone are the days of hibernating in the back guest room freezing my ass off to write a post. Nothing deters blogging like frigid fingers and an icicle ass. It turns out, a gas fireplace in the dead middle of a brutally long Minnesota winter can silence all hawing and once again, blogs can be written.

So here I sit, posting another blog. Vowing to renew my efforts to keep up with this hobby of mine. And I've got a doozy of a follow up post for ya … in TMI tradition, I will be elaborating on this pregnancy. If you are squeamish, shy or male, don't say I didn't warn you.

Finally

Nothing beats a healthy Mae Meister, shitty grinning, cheesy posing.