A choice is backed by a belief that you can do it. A wish is backed by a doubt that you can.

The transformation that has been happening in our home lately is simply astonishing. Not only is our family growing, but our relationship is growing and our ability to open up to new experiences is growing. It is difficult to even fully explain the dramatic shift occurring within us. While everyone wishes that their children will have a better life than they did, I believe that my children will have a better life than I did. While people wish that they will be financially comfortable, we believe that we will have financial freedom, there is a distinct difference.

I have no idea why this is happening, but apparently a majority of people at or near 30 begin to re-evaluate their lives. We seem to be there. I spend a majority of my time seeking out books that speak to me about personal growth and parenting, resulting in jewels such as, "if spanking is such a successful tool then why do parents have to do it so often?" Keith has been focusing on topics that involve monetary growth, gaining pearls of wisdom such as this: "if you depend on wages for your income, then your income will always be extremely limited. If you learn to earn profits, then the sky is the limit!" We make a great team by sharing our new found eduction and I find myself inspired by his determination. While Keith is sharing new ways to increase our wealth, I have spent the past few months assessing how I want to interact with the people in my life. Friends, family, and strangers. I've decided I don't have room in my life for negativity. I've decided to stop complaining and start learning. I've been doing a lot of reading, most recently one of Keith's picks, "The Top 10 Distinctions between Millionaires and the Middle Class," by Keith Cameron Smith - A very good read. He has enlightened me far beyond the application of money. He reveals that "Whatever you complain about, you get more of. Complain about bills or debts and you get more of them. Complain about people treating you unfairly and you will continue to be treated unfairly. The power of your words creates the experiences of life." Profound. It applies to my life far beyond my bank account.

Aside from working towards financial freedom I am determined to create a place of emotional freedom for myself and for my husband and children. I am leaving anger, resentment, and negativity behind and replacing it with forgiveness, understanding, and positivity. Not only has this empowered me to move on in my life, but it has given me the ability to provide a loving, safe environment for my kids to blossom. I believe that my children will have a better life than I did. We have already made so many small changes in our lives to assure that our kids will have the best life possible. We've given up careless spending and replaced it with monthly payments for pre-paid college funds and life insurance, we've given up smoking, Keith quit drinking, I quit smoking pot (oops - nothing like incriminating yourself a little bit)... Why bother having children if you aren't going to live a lifestyle that is conducive to protecting the health and well-being of your kids? I want them to be confident students, enjoy loving, healthy relationships and go forward in life with the knowledge that they can succeed in anything that they do. I want them to grow into healthy, happy, productive adults who look back on their childhood and know without a doubt that they were loved, respected, and taught by example to be good moral people. These are just small steps and minuscule goals, the bigger picture is so much more complex. I'm just so full of excitement and hope for the future and I'm really looking forward to what lies ahead. Just when you think life couldn't possibly get any sweeter it inevitably does.

acid reflux, skin tags and banana splits...

I'm in the home stretch. This week I enter my last trimester. All in all I'd have to say that this is the happiest I have ever been in my entire life. Despite the fact that (right on schedule) my uterus is crushing my stomach, causing all day acid reflux, I am overdosing on "smoothie" Tums all day, which is a joke, they taste nothing like a smoothie - more like astronaut ice cream gone wrong, and despite the fact that I found a freakishly long hair growing out of my forehead-- which begs the question - why haven't any of my friends, family or husband pointed it out to me?? Its not like it sprouted overnight, it was practically an inch long - I mean come on people, throw me a bone. And despite the fact that I found a rather disturbing "skin tag" (most certainly another side effect of pregnancy) on my chest, and despite the fact that my left foot is so swollen it resembles a loaf of sour dough bread... Despite all of that - I am the happiest woman alive.

Today - 27 weeks and 5 days into my pregnancy I finally caved and stopped at Cold Stone Creamery this afternoon for lunch. That's right, I had a banana split for lunch. I blame banana splits for at least 14 of the pounds that I gained with Isabelle, the banana split was a bi-weekly staple in my diet. I felt like I deserved the 1,376 calories per serving as I'd successfully quit smoking and had to give up Sangria with the girls... This time around I pledged to behave and today - I just couldn't take it anymore. So, as I was driving back to work from the bank I saw the blinking neon sign (not really blinking, nor neon - but It called out for me - it sounded something like "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh" as it came into focus with blinding angelic white lights) I floored the Odyssey with my swollen bread loaf and quickly crossed over 3 lanes of traffic going 65 miles per hour on US 19 and swerved into the Cold Stone parking lot. It was wonderful. I enjoyed my 1/2 scoop chocolate and 1/2 scoop vanilla with 1/2 a banana, rainbow sprinkles, 4 saucy strawberries, and fudge drizzle. It was heavenly.

I REALLY am just a little pregnant...and a little bigger.

Today, on the way up three flights of stairs (on the exterior of my office building) at around noon I was followed by another woman who states, "when are you due?" "October" I replied. "Oh maaaaaan! How will you make it through these hooooot summer months?" -as she makes this ugly, wide-eyed hippo yawning type face. I simply told her that it really wasn't that big of a deal. Its Florida. I've been here all my life and it is what it is. I mean really, if it WAS a big deal would I be climbing three flights of stairs in 90 degree heat in the middle of the day when I could just as easily have taken the elevator? Why does every woman I see moan and groan about the long summer months I am destined to endure? I don't really see what the stink is all about. You don't see women seeking out fat chicks in the plus size department of Target asking them how they are going to survive the summer heat with a few spare tires do you??? Being fat and pregnant is ultimately the same. None of us can see our toes and we have no waistline. The difference is I get kicked in the bladder on an hourly basis, I have heartburn by 4pm and I have to pee 30 times a day. Honestly, I'm just living my life as usual with a baby growing inside me. I continue to play outside with Isabelle every evening, I color with chalk on the driveway on the weekends, we go to the park, the zoo and just live. All you whiners out there need to just recognize that we are lucky to be carrying our babies summer, winter, spring, or fall. There are women (and trans-gender men who opted to keep their reproductive organs) out there who would die to carry a baby. So quit your bitching and appreciate the miracle growing inside you.

And another thing: I'd like to know why every stranger (and even some uninformed friends- who apparently don't read my blog) seem to think I'm ready to deliver any day now. My rude, annoying female neighbor (who will remain nameless) recently rode by me as I did my evening walk - she has her husband slow down, she points at me and makes this huge belly motion with her hands clasped together and rolls her arms from shoulder level down to her pelvis - as to say - you are huuuuuuge. bitch. Whether its the checkout girl at Walgreens or the random lady behind me at the post office - and most recently Missy Bismarck who all seem to be under the impression that I'm READY TO BLOOOOOOOOW. Like my hospital bag is in the trunk, I have the first 6 numbers of my OB's number dialed into my phone and two weeks worth of meals ready to go in the freezer. NO PEOPLE, I AM NOT DUE IN AUGUST OR TOMORROW OR IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS. I am due in late October. Why is it that even though I've only gained 6 pounds people seem to think I've reached capacity. I'm really quite offended by most of what I've heard from people lately, my very own mother included, who decided to tell me that I was really beginning to look pregnant instead of just big. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? My mom called me fat. I've worked my ass off these past few months skipping banana splits, cheeseburgers, super sizing, and 2nd dinners to avoid looking like a beached whale. And all I get is comments like, "any day now eh?" or "An August baby I presume?" No assholes. I've only gained 6 pounds, I've got 12 weeks to go and I never looked "big" or "fat" to begin with. And while I'm on the topic of my belly - would all of you people out there stop stroking my stomach like I belong is a freaking petting zoo? I am not a friendly goat, I am a hormonal pregnant woman. Stop touching me.

Sorry Wilford, its not you, its me...

Well, I DON'T have gestational diabetes!! I love medicine, no really... these "doctors" go to school for years, live on Ramen noodles and the dollar menu, rarely sleep while completing internships and residency programs... I just don't understand why after ALL THAT - it ultimately comes down to THE PROCESS OF ELIMINATION. I have had chronic migraines for 8 years, I usually get nauseated, have vision problems, and pain - normal symptoms for a migraine sufferer... But THESE ASSHOLES convince me that I'm suffering from nausea and headaches because my blood sugar isn't being properly maintained and so I jump through hoops for 2 weeks only to find out that they are wrong and that I just need be admitted to labor & delivery to get a DEMEROL injection today to stop the migraine that has been causing all of these side effects... seriously, had I just listened to WEB MD (a wonderful website that allows you to self-diagnose a thing or two - even though just about every symptom "might" be cancer and they suggest you see your doctor asap) I would have been seeing straight, feeling healthy, drinking large coffee and eating yummy sugary foods and not wanting to stab myself in the eye sockets ooooooooooh, about 11 freaking days ago!!!! So, I'm paying a visit to the hospital today to get all good and doped up and do what they refer to as "re-setting" my brain and get some much needed relief from this constant, crippling pain. I must say after 6 months of total sobriety I welcome this 4 inch needle filled with warm fuzzy feelings, speaking of which, Keith is hoping this will mean warm fuzzy feelings for him too, if you know what I mean...

Wilford Brimley is my new BFF!!

Last Friday I FAILED the glucose test for gestational diabetes. Bummer. It might just be all in my head, but several days prior to the testing I found that I was becoming nauseated shortly after finishing off my daily large Dunkin Donuts French Vanilla coffee with extra cream and sugar... my one vice during this pregnancy is this so called coffee --- its more like sugar and cream with a dash of coffee... and if I decided to eat a blueberry muffin with it - FHAGEDABOUDIT!!! I was sicker than hell. So it made me think that maybe these doctors aren't as stupid as I originally thought. Seriously, this has been a pregnancy full of "you might have __________." Every time I turn around they have me going down to the lab to give more blood to test for some new godforsaken complication or repeat ultrasound. First it was gall stones, then placenta previa, then low/high levels of some word I dare not attempt to spell... Now its gestational diabetes. So while I am forced to freak out about diseases and complications that turn out to be NOTHING!!! I am walking around looking like a pregnant crack whore with track marks all over my arms... because its not enough that I am required to get this blood work done, but I always seem to get the idiot who is just barely surviving their first day on the job or Joe A$$hole who is pissed that he got stuck filling in for some slacker co-worker so he takes out his aggression on me and sticks the damn needle through the vein and laughs it off and then sticks me 7 more times. Did I mention that I actually passed out two months ago after that dude failed to fill the 8th vile fully and then had to go back AGAIN to finish off the leftover tubes? Oh, and lets not forget that I am treated on a first come first serve basis, and I ALWAYS manage to show up 3 minutes after the "On Top of The World" bus just dropped off 73 senior citizens who need blood draws from their 9 separate doctors, because lets be honest, by that time they have an internist, a podiatrist, an orthopedist, an allergist, a neurologist, and a second orthopedist because they don't fully trust the first one - and none of these doctors are willing to share the results - and we wonder why really really old people are so freakin skinny, its because their blood levels are so damn depleted that they are on the verge of death after being stuck 32 times... So I'm stuck there waiting for 4 hours surrounded by the wretched smell of moth balls and the only magazine they have is Good Housekeeping - March 2002!!! Which of course I've already read, because this is my 7th visit THIS MONTH!!!

Anyway, the point being, that I was instructed to return to the lab this morning for the 3 hour glucose test. So this time I show up 20 minutes before the lab even opens, my master plan is to beat the retirement village to the punch and get the heck out of there, and as luck would finally have it - I succeed. We begin the morning with good 'ol Sandy (that's right - we are on a first name basis now) swabbing my index finger with alcohol, and while doing so she complains that they are not "juicy" enough and then immediately stabs me, allowing the alcohol to immediately seep into the "wound" for lack of a better word, I wanted to haul off and smack her. EVERYONE KNOWS you wait for the alcohol to DRY before you prick. GEEZ LADY. I drink the glucose and wait for an hour, get poked, wait another hour, get coughed on by Typhoid Mary, Typhoid Mary leaves and is replaced with the emphysema joe, who I'm sure was warned over and over to quit smoking, but he didn't and now he can't breath and is forced to drag this Oxygen tank all over creation, which really makes no sense at all, its like pouring salt in the wound, I can just hear his doctor now, "Joe, you have emphysema, I know that you are basically suffocating in your own body and can barely make it from the bed to the bathroom, but now we also want you do drag/roll/carry this 30 pound tank everywhere you go." So anyway, THIS GUY is hacking up his left lung and all I'm thinking is get me the hell outta here before I catch something, which would be fitting, seeing as how I've already had two colds this pregnancy. Hour two rolls around, I get stabbed 4 times, cause Sandy can't seem to get a good vein - WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GOOD VEIN YOU STABBED AN HOUR AGO??? WHERE DID THAT ONE GO??? I manage to survive the ordeal and as I'm leaving she says, hopefully you won't have to do this again, to which I reply, "Why? Did you do something wrong?" - cause by this point I haven't eaten in 16 hours, I'm in pain, I've been suffering from some pretty painful Braxton Hicks contractions and I'm pretty pissy. She says, no, just some people have to do it more than once. As I'm leaving I just think to myself, jesus, I'd rather just pretend that I am diabetic, stick to the rigorous diet and avoid this HELL - I can survive on brown rice, whole grains and restricted amounts of fruits and veggies for 12 more weeks.

So, anyway, I will find out on Monday whether or not I failed the 3 hour test. I'm not going to panic, but I will be stuffing my face with chocolate fro-yo with colored sprinkles, pizza, donuts, cookies, spaghetti and meatballs, fried cheese and whatever else I can possibly get my hands on, just in case this is my fair well weekend to normal food. Stay tuned...

Hell hath no fury like a 2 yr old in the big city...

Settling back into life after New York City... What a fantastically overwhelming city. Never enough time in the day to accomplish everything that you set out to tackle, and never enough soap to wash off the nastification that is NYC... Uncle Nick and Aunt "Anana" have settled into their lovely apartment on the west side just a few steps away from Central Park, what a wonderful location. We had lots of fun picnicing, visiting the Central Park Zoo and eating chcolate and ice cream for breakfast at Max Brenners...mmmmmmmmm. Isabelle spent every single night forcing Alana into sequester in their bedroom, she refused to allow Nick or myself into the room, immediately telling us to "LEABE" (all V's sound like B's)and to "Close da doow" (apparently suffering from the same inability to pronounce her "R's" just like Aunt Ashley back in the day...how adorable is that??) As it would happen the window to their bedroom is too small for an a/c unit, so its hotter than hell in there with the lights on and the door shut... so they spent forever in there filing their nails, lounging around and as Isabelle puts it, "hanging out."

Poor Uncle Nick... Isabelle is now in a stage where she refuses to potty train, and can hold her bladder for HOURS and then LET LOOSE all at once, there is no diaper in the world built to withstand this type of flooding...so by the last day of our visit Isabelle managed to pee on NICK & ALANA's BED, their BRAND SPANKING NEW (beautiful) microfiber sectional, a living room throw blanket (TWICE) and the sheets that we were sleeping on... I remember what it was like before kids and dogs, everything needed to be perfect, I practically lost my mind at a spec of dirt OR EVEN WORSE URINE!!! AAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhh!!!! I could tell that he really wanted to fall apart at the seams, but he managed to somehow totally keep his cool, not even grimmace in our presence a single time, and kept saying, "its NO BIG DEAL!" I felt so terrible for them, lovey, dovey, perky newly weds, putting together a home with new furniture and things just the way they want them, and then know-it-all sister-in-law comes for 4 days with a loud, leaky, needy two year old, leaving them with little to no privacy, peeing all over everything, toys and shoes all over the place and Barney's greatest hits playing 24 hours a day in the t.v.... I don't think they had a clue what they were in for, it won't surprise me one bit if they claim to be very very busy next summer when I attempt to make plans for another visit with TWO KIDS!!!! (just kidding, we will find a nice hotel) Did I mention that by day 3 their downstairs neighbor sent Nick a text message asking if they'd been "working, dancing or hammering something for the past few days???" "No" Nick responds, "Its my 2 yr old neice stomping (really she stomped all over the place the whole time - its like she forgot how to walk like a normal little girl while we were there) so I spent the next half of the trip asking her to tip toe like Baby-Bop the ballerina on Barney - no such luck.

All in all it was a great trip. We walked for miles and miles, Isabelle stayed up super duper late every night, she really enjoyed her quality time with her aunt and uncle and we made memories to last a lifetime and left a few stains in the process...

I'm LEEFY not BEEFY!!!!

Thats right people, I visited the OB and stepped on the scale today and it didn't moooooo at me. I'm proud to say that 6 months into this whole process I have only gained 4 pounds!!! Woooo Hooooooooo!!!!!! Although, you'd never know by the looks of me. I can't see my toes anymore, I can't bend over to change diapers (actually I probably could, but why-when I can sucker Keith into doing it...) and it goes without saying that I am a danger to myself when it comes to taking a razor to my nether-regions... So spa waxing here I come...

In other news, we've finally decided on a name for our son, Andrew Parker. Pretty much just picked it out of the blue, no family history or real meaning, just a good solid name, because as Mama always says "A person lives up to their name."

Isabelle and I are flying to New York City for a long 4th of July weekend with Nick and Alana, leaving poor old dad behind with a "honey do list" a mile long. I've spent the past 4 days stocking up on entertainment items for Isabelle, hoping against all hope that a stockpile of Barney dvds, play-doh (its not my plane to clean), and magic markers will keep her happy for the 3 hour flight...And I've spent the past 12 hours dealing with the most incompetent customer service reps from India or Pakistan or wherever the hell they hire these slave labor, pea-brained, script reading morons... I ask if I can check a car seat and a stroller at the gate and these retards take 5 minutes to find the paragraph about carry-ons and read word for word from the manual talking nonsense about bag measurements, laptops, liquids... blah blah blah - THINK OUTSIDE OF THE F*$CKING BOX and while you're at it, pick up a copy of ROSETTA STONE and learn our damn language if you are going to even attempt to help us maneuver through this overwhelming baggage HELL that is Delta Airlines... I mean, there is serious cause for concern seeing as how everyone knows what Delta stands for - Don't Expect Luggage To Arrive. So after totally striking out with Habeeb, Deepa, Bhadramurti, Harikesh and Saptanshu, I opted to send an email with my question... Here it is:

I am traveling within the U.S. with my 2 yr old. I have purchased two
full fare tickets. I want to know if, in addition to the 1 checked bag
and one carry-on item per person, am I allowed to check a STROLLER AND
CHILD RESTRAINT SEAT at the gate at no additional charge?
Thanks for your time. Lesley Noel

To which Delta kindly responds:

Dear Lesley Noel,
>
> Thank you for your e-mail to Delta Air Lines.
>
> A child aged two or older is required to have their own individual seat
> onboard the aircraft. Your child's safety is very important to us, and
> you can find detailed information about accepted child restraint
> systems, seating restrictions, and related topics online on our website.
>
> From our home page at www.delta.com, follow these links:
>
> Planning & Reservations
> Special Travel Needs
> Services for Children
> Infant & Child Seating
>
> We appreciate your interest in Delta Air Lines.
>
> Sincerely,
>
> Vicky Rich
> Online Customer Support Desk
> http://www.delta.com

Which apparently is their idea of an appropriate answer, seeing as how I must not have read the baggage requirements on the website - idiots... Needless to say I did respond with another email telling them exactly where to stick their online customer support desk, which included language and a certain side of my temper I dare not print for the rest of the world on my blog. Needless to say, I won't be too shocked if I've been flagged and added to the no fly list, it wouldn't be the first time the government looked me up... considering my infamous phone call to the FBI headquarters in Miami last summer...

Anyway... I'm skinny, I love my husband and Delta sucks.