My little Ninja is definitely getting stronger every day.

Yesterday as I sat hunched over my desk, writing something down on a piece of paper, I felt a simultaneous (roundhouse kick? Maybe I have a future UFC fighter on my hands? LOL) kick to the upper belly and a punch to the lower belly that made me bolt upright in my chair and burst out with a surprised "Oh!!"

Then I couldn't help but laugh out loud. I think Hunter must not like when his Mommy is sitting all hunched over, cuz he always seems to smack me around till I straighten up! Silly boy.


And now I just have to brag a little bit about our Fidelco foster puppy, Timber! If you remember, he had a special walk in West Hartford a couple of weeks ago, where a trainer assessed him while Daryl and he walked. This was his first time being walked in such a busy area (for those of you who know West Hartford center, picture it on one of the most glorious spring days we've had so far! It was PACKED!).

I'm proud to say that Fidelco informed us that Timber did THE BEST out of his whole litter! He showed absolutely no fear whatsoever as joggers brushed by us, strollers wheeled bumpily along the sidewalk, little kids squealed and jumped, fire trucks raced by with sirens wailing as loud as can be and people walked all kinds of dogs, (very) large and small, some barking.

Timber was so focused on Daryl and his commands (and his treats, of course!) that he barely glanced around him at some of the people going by. I really think that when his red vest and his Gentle Leader go on, that Timber knows it's "time to work".

He's definitely still young and STILL an easily distracted puppy, but I can see his potential as a future guide dog and it makes me so happy!

I am impressed! As time goes by, I grow more and more attached to this dog (although I have to admit, Daryls' attachment waaaaaay surpasses mine...I think I have kept it in the back of my head since the very beginning that "he is not my dog. We will have to give him back after a year." and that has helped me not to bond with him as I normally would with my own puppy. But for Daryl? He was completely and 100% smitten from Day One). Now the thought of giving him back does bring tears to my eyes but at hte same time, I'm so excited about where he will be going in his life. The powerful change that this dog, who we will have raised for a year-ish by then, will have on the life of a blind person.

Timber will give someone his or her independence and possibly give them "their life back" and that gives me happy and pleased goosebumps. So despite all thefrustrated tears (just my own! LOL) and pee stains on the carpet and chewed up items in the house and smelly raw food diet that we have to feed him--I know it is all worth it in the end! :-)

I came to work to relax!

My weekend was crazy-busy. Friday night, Big D had an interview for a second job, a part time job, so I went with him and waited outside in the truck since we had to go pick up the crib afterwards. I must have been in the truck for about an hour, jamming out and singing to the tunes. Baby boy Hunter was moving and shaking for a while and then he must have been enjoying his private concert becuz he settled right down. An hour later, when Daryl hopped into the truck and began recanting his interview experience to me, I was totally delighted to realize that Hunter had started moving all about again in my belly.

"He recognizes your voice, Daddy!" I told him excitedly.

After that, we headed to pick up the crib and after paying the balance, the stock-dude comes out wheeling THE largest, craziest box I've ever seen. My first thought was "Holy Shit!" and my second thought was "How the hell is Daryl going to single-handedly get that into the house????".

So on the way home I frantically tried to scrounge up some fellow muscle to help out and since it was already quarter to nine on a Friday night, we were not having much luck. Daryl ended up backing the truck up almost to the front cement stairs of her house and I helped him guide the box up one step (as he strained all by himself to bear the weight of it!) and then we slid it on a sheet the rest of the way into the house. Now, my hubby is NO sissy and lifts tons of heavy objects during the course of day at his job, but this box was so heavy...it was a monstrosity! I'm just glad we got it inside. ;-)

Saturday we were doing an early Easter dinner with my mom, Daryl's Dad and his Grandma so we ran out to the store (nothing like waiting till last minute, huh?) to get all the food items we needed and then I cleaned and scrubbed the house for a couple of hours. Big D was not available to help cuz he had to bring Timber to his puppy class, so I was on my own! I threw the ham in the oven at noon, threw myself in the shower at twelve thirty and my mom arrived at one, followed by D's family at two. By the time dinner was over, and the dishes cleaned up, I was practically crying for the couch...my back and feet hurt SO bad! And then D's family didn't end up leaving till SEVEN so I was feeling like I was wasting time just sitting around on my ass while they watched UCONN basketball (I'm not into basketball at all) so I started doing laundry. Argh! I think I crashed into bed Saturday night.

Sunday, the puppy had us woken up and out of bed by six thirty. Little bratty. We had a Fidelco trainer coming over at eleven to work on some issues with us so in the meantime I did more laundry, and then we went to Starbucks where I got a deliciously yummy decaf Cinnamon Dolce latte and Big D got an Espresso Truffle Latte. Mmmmmm.... After our training session (where the Fidelco trainer proceeded to tell us that Timber behaved MUCH better than we made it sound like, at home. That little shit is always proving us wrong! LOL) we took the two big dogs out to the lake for a walk. The walk did NOT go well. Ha ha! Tucker is not very good with walking on a leash...he's a dragger. We had purchased him a Gentle Leader once before and he chewed it up so I'm sorry to say we'd been very lax about walking (he does get plenty of exercise in our backyard with us though. We run him ragged out there!). So Daryl took Tucker's leash and I took the "good walker", Timber's, leash. Uh, yeah, he drove me insane. I don't know if it's becuz he wasn't walking with Daryl like he usually does, or if Timber wanted to be near Tucker, but that puppy pulled and pulled and pulled on his leash--even while wearing his Gentle Leader. That's sixty three pounds of "puppy" pulling along this lady. And I'm embarrassed to say, I started to get VERY frustrated. Between both dogs pulling, Tucker whining (who knows why!), and Daryl and I snapping each other's heads off...it was bad. By the time I splashed through a mud puddle and it leaked into my sock, I almost lost it and wanted to call it quits right there. Then on the way back to the truck, I was practically panting with the exertion of it all (I often times "forget" I'm pregnant, when I try to do things like I normally do. Uh, yeah, your body reacts differently when you're pregnant, April. Remember that!) and the last time Timber tugged and Daryl tried to tell me how to correct him, I bit his head off and said I just didn't care anymore, and wanted to get back to the car. I held back tears at that point. So Big D took BOTH dogs and I panted, gasped and wheezed my way back to the truck.

And you'd think I would have rested once we got home, right? Wrong. We took the dogs outside and let them run themselves like crazy out there, while we talked with our neighbor/friend Brian for about 45 minutes. My low back was starting to throb by this time so did I go in and lay down? Nope! We went out for pizza! But after pizza, I slid right into my pj's and planted my tired, aching body onto the couch. Big D and I have recently discovered House and LOVE the show so we watched a marathon of like 3 or 4 shows in a row.

Can you understand now why I came to work to relax today????


22 weeks: Our baby Hunter

Your Baby This Coming Week

Your baby now weighs almost 1 lb (450g) and measures about 8 inches (20cm) from crown to rump. (Hello, big boy!!)

He is becoming plumper as his fat is being laid down at a high rate, but his skin is still wrinkled and reddish. The wrinkled and loose appearance of his skin is due to the faster production of his skin than the fat that fills it out. The reddish appearance of his skin is due to the deposition of pigment as his skin loses its translucent appearance.

Your baby can kick and punch vigorously by now, but he may also be gently feeling the umbilical cord and rubbing his hands and face against the inside membrane of the amniotic sac that holds him. (Awww! As weird as this sounds, it also seems so cute!)

He is still swallowing amniotic fluid (which provides an important nutritional supplement to the nutrition he gets from you via the placenta) and is passing some of it as urine. The swallowing of the amniotic fluid may cause your baby to get the hiccups and you may even be able to feel this as his body jumps inside yours. (I still haven't felt any hiccups yet, although I think I might have experienced Hunter 'stretching out' this morning. THAT was crazy!)

The lanugo hair on your baby's body may turn darker at this time.

I had kind of a morbid conversation the other day with Big D.

About death.

I don't know why, but I seem to think about it more and more often.

I know I'm getting older (and yes, yes, I know at 32 years old, I'm still considered "young" by some, but you must admit as you age, our own mortality just kind of jumps up and smacks you in the face, doesn't it?) and that is one part of it. But I think there may be more to it than that.

I was laying in bed one night, having trouble falling asleep, staring at the ceiling and feeling my thoughts whir crazily around in my brain.

I was thinking about dying.

I've had this thought before, it's nothing new, but this time was different.

I was thinking about dying, and I don't mean at a young age. I was visualizing my death at a nice, ripe old age--and it scared the ever-loving shit out of me. WHY? I started thinking "Oh my God, I'll be gone. Gone forever. But where will I go? Will I see my father? Will my family be heart-broken? And will I never feel/see/smell again?"

The more questions I asked myself, the more anxious I felt. Heart racing, sweat inducing, panic. Normally thinking about death doesn't have quite this reaction. Yes, it seems so large and scary and unknown but I've always been comforted by the fact that (for me and what I believe in) when people I love die, they are still "here" in a sense. But I couldn't hold onto that comforting thought like always, and instead imagined myself just ceasing to exist, like erasing a letter permanently off a page of paper. Would I be erased?

I told Daryl the next day or so about my crazy, new fears of death that night, and he nodded casually and said, "Oh I haven't stopped thinking about dying since the day you got the positive on your pregnancy test!"

"Really? You think my new-found fear is related to the fact that we're going to have a child? Is that how it is for you now?"

Big D explained that for him, it was. He said how it's such an exciting time in our lives, bringing a child into the world, and yet at the same time all he can think of is "Someday I'll die and leave this child, and he will have to deal with that painful loss. And that bothers me."

And immediately I'm taken back to the day my father and I had the best and worst conversation of our lives. The day that he told me how proud he was of me. The day he told me that his regret was that he would not get to hold his grandchild in his arms. And see me (and my brother) live out our lives. And enjoy his retirement with my mother. And finish living his life. And I was sitting there telling him how much I would miss him. How much of a wonderful father he was and had always been. That I would never let him "die" in my eyes and memory and most importantly, my heart. And wishing I had done "more" and been a better daughter (this I kept to myself).

As I remember back to that day and his words, and as I even write this post, I think I'm coming to a revelation of sorts. I am starting to think that I don't need to fear death, as much. As Daryl pointed out, yes it will be so sad to leave our children some day and leave that stain of grief upon their hearts, but at the same time, I hope and pray that it's after a very, long and fulfilling life with them. But if it's not, if it's only after 51 years on this earth, and only (I say only, but yet I know some of you never even had this much time with your parent/spouse/child/loved one, and for that I'm sorry!) after 25 years with my child, I will still remember that I've had a good life. And hopefully I will have given my child the best years ever.

This is my hope.




And now I have a question or two for all of you (if you've made it this far through my rambling): Are you afraid to die? And if, GOD FORBID, you died tomorrow--would you feel like you have lived (and loved) your life to the fullest?

How I spent my night between 6:45-11:00 p.m. last night:

1. Making dinner (as soon as I got home from work) for me, Big D and my mom who came over to watch a movie with us.

2. Cleaning up endless piles of watery, and sometimes foamy, dog puke/bile (how can one 20-lb dog have so much IN her?? I'm talking oceans of it, people!). I lost track of how many times I was down on my hands and knees with paper towels (went through a whole roll) and Nature's Miracle.

3. Cleaning up the dinner dishes. ( i.e. dumping all the dirty dishes into the already-full sink to deal with another day).

4. Chasing after a puppy who doesn't always listen, trying to get him in his crate, only to have him jump up on the couch where he is not allowed, and then proceed to excitedly pee on said couch.

5. Cleaning puppy pee stains off of the damn couch.

6. Swearing at Daryl, who got annoyed that I had an "attitude" (hmmm...go figure? LOL) and slammed himself into the bedroom to watch TV, alone.

6. Yelling to my mom (who had so graciously paused the movie during my many puke-cleaning-runs to the kitchen, where I had Daisy segregated) to "Just play the damn movie! I'm not going to be able to see it anyway, at this rate!". But what a good mom, she waited for me anyway.

7. Inhaling large quantities of salty, buttery popcorn after believing I was way too full from dinner to eat another bite. And getting the first damn kernel wedged uncomfortably deep within my tooth and gums.

8. Sobbing hysterically on the couch as we watched the end of Marley and Me, while black-mascara tear tracks zig-zagged down my face. (I cried just as much while reading the book, too!)

9. Crawling into bed, realizing I am not even tired and watching the stupidest shows ever known to man (i.e. Keeping up with the Kardashians...why??) while Hunter danced an insane tango in my belly at 11:00 p.m. at night. And wondering, "How the hell am I going to sleep through that?" but yet smiling to myself anyway.

10. Listening to the chain-saw sounds of Daryl snoring and trying to pry the blankets out from underneath his dead-sleepy weight. Finally saying, "F*ck it!" and waking his ass up to move off the blankets, so I wouldn't be cold during the night.

11. And despite all of that (or maybe becuz of!) actually getting a full night's sleep (minus only 2 pee breaks).

And it's only Wednesday....