keeping up with the present

I had my 29 week appointment this morning.  (But I think I should just be honest and say I'm 29 1/2...that half counts)  My blood pressure was good, my weight was good (meaning I didn't cry about it) and I'm happy to report my blood sugar was good.   I protested conventional medicine with this pregnancy too and performed the dreaded glucose test at home with strips I've already paid for and two cans of juice.  Last month the PA I saw gave me a look of horror when I declined the glucose test.  She treated me if I was the dumbest person on the earth and that I might as well sign my baby over to child protective services right then.  She rudely said she could not "sign off" on my request to decline.  I laughed the entire way home after one of the Ob's in the office (who actually knows and listens to me) said, "Sure, no problem" when she asked what he thought.  HAAA HAAA HAAA HAAA! 

 (I was feeling a little vindictive that day, still am for that matter)

  I would have liked to have seen her today and flashed my blood sugar number of 78 one hour after drinking my juice.  

Don't mess with mothers of diabetics.  We know what we are talking about.

When I told Carter my number, he was worried and asked if I drank another juice because I was low. 

I love that kid...love him.

I'm to the stage now where I will see my doctor every two weeks for the next month and then every week after that.  I will also start with ultrasounds and non-stress tests soon too. 

 (I feel money pouring out of our bank account...shooting out...gushing out.)

Andrew had a camp out in the south hills last weekend.  He came home Saturday afternoon with a fever and extreme sore throat.  It hit him hours after he arrived at the campsite.  Poor kid powered through the entire camping trip feeling like garbage.  The fever and sore throat progressed into a runny nose and horrendous cough.  Andrew has the flu.  

Saylor has it now too.  She has run a low grade fever and been hacking for the last three days.  I'm guessing the flu shots I tortured the kids with a few months ago are helping in the fact that this sickness is more annoying than severe.  Too bad I didn't get my flu shot until today.  Oops.  I'm praying the mass quantities of sleep I am forcing myself to get will keep me from getting sick, that, and how many times I wash my hands in a day.  There isn't enough lotion on this planet to fix my raw bleeding hands. I'm pretty I tell ya.

I've nested in the last month.  Rooms have been cleaned out, closets reorganized and DI runs have been frequent.  It feels great.  This weekend my plan is to fill all the nicks, dings and holes in our walls and touch up the paint.  The trim will be included in this.  I can't believe how 4 1/2 years of children will massacre a good paint job.  We are in this house for the long haul and I really want to keep it nice, or at least presentable.  (Now...if someone would just donate new carpet to the cause.  That would be fabulous really.)

I also feel need to clean out the toy closet one more time this weekend.  It's driving my crazy along with my pantry.  But those two places need to be cleaned out almost weekly.  They are both a constant mess.

The best part of my nesting is that Grady's room is almost ready.  His bed is up, dresser is empty and ready for baby boy clothes, and the glider is in position.  It looks pretty cute, even with nothing hung on the walls.

Have I mentioned we've named this baby boy Grady?

Grady Paul Dixon is our name of choice.  

(It feels so fun to type it and see it in print!)

Unless he comes and absolutely does not look like a Grady in any shape or form, that will be his name.

We had a darling neighbor in Virginia with a little boy named Grady and I have loved the name ever since.  It was one of my secret choices for Colby...but I was overruled.

Other names Steve and I considered were:

Beck Walker Dixon

Wright Paul Dixon

Dash Walker Dixon

Wright is my paternal grandmother's maiden name, Paul is my father's middle name and my grandfather's first name and Walker...well that is just obvious.

I would say these names over and over in my head and none of them would stick.  Steve's first pick was Dash...but we were a little worried Dash Dixon sounded too much like a cartoon superhero or a car salesman.  (Plus...what if he ran really slow?  You have to think about these things!)

Steve and I were laying in bed one night stewing over names (Steve was half asleep and I was stewing) when I mentioned Grady.  Steve said he liked it...and that was that.

Grady Paul it is.

(It's stinking fun that my sister just named her little guy Grant Paul Walker Smith.  Let's hope my mother can keep them straight)

Last to mention today...the science fair is in six weeks.

I can feel it looming.

If it doesn't put me into labor early, nothing will.