Jason's Birth

I never posted details, and I promise for the sake of those who will read this, to be as ungraphic as possible.

We checked in at 5:30am. Went to our room, and I got hooked up to the monitors - which confirmed that yes, everything I had been feeling for 2 weeks was really labor. They checked under the hood, and called my doctor to report my progress, and she said that I could have my epidural whenever I wanted.

Louren: Now is good for me.

Nurse: Ha ha ha.

Louren: No really. I would like it now.

Nurse: um, well, you have to wait for the shift change at 7:00.

So right before the shift change at 7, the nurse that I (thankfully) only had for 90 minutes decided she needed to get more done before she passed me off. So she enlisted the help of another nurse, who was CLEARLY ready to get home. The two of them proceeded to hook me up to the IV. Or at least attempted to. I hate needles, and the 5 minutes they spent digging around in my left hand was excruciating. Finally I suggested that they could stop, and perhaps try the other hand, which of course worked much better. My left hand was then swollen the rest of the hospital stay.

So then the crazy nurse left, and the nicest nurse in the world came on duty. She truly rocked. She was sweet, brought me ice chips before delivery, was encouraging during delivery, and was very helpful with all of the yuckiness that ensues after delivery. It was almost as if I had hired a doula to be there, instead of just a labor nurse who was on duty.

The wonderful nurse of course immediately ordered the epidural, and the anesthesiologist arrived shortly and hooked up the drugs. (see, spared you the gory details) They were then able to crank up the pitocin (contraction causing synthetic hormone) so that the contractions could be more productive. Of course, this made me want to hit the "more drugs" button on the epidural, which my body didn't appreciate. After my blood pressure dipped to something around 100/50 (ask Will, I am sure he remembers specifically), and they shot me up with ephedrine, I was back to normal and all was well.

My doctor broke my water at 8:30, I was ready to push by 11:00, and at 11:22 - after only 4 contractions worth of pushing - Jason entered the world.

The baby nurse in the room declared that he looked like a 9 pounder, and when they weighed him, I only heard the last part "9...2" which I took to be 9 pounds 2 ounces - and I was about to be absolutely floored as to how Kerry had accurately predicted Jason's weight, even though she had never seen me this pregnancy. I was starting to have great thoughts about Kerry, MD (as Trav said) and her amazing psychic doctor skills (wow, Kerry's super power is amazing birth weight detection!), when they repeated the weight as 7 pounds 9.2 ounces. Oh well. So much for that theory.

So less than 6 hours after checking in, we had our beautiful baby boy. And the recovery was so wonderful - due largely to not having to change rooms ever during my stay, to the awesome personal attention from the very caring staff, to the super nice night nurse who seemed to anticipate my pain, bringing me more drugs in the middle of the night, right as I was about to hit the call button, and especially thanks to the jacuzzi-like tub in my bathroom.

Sorry to post so long, but I thought some people might want to know more about the birth. And I think I kept it G-rated.

And yes, again I am up in the middle of the night.

Jason Link

Jason's hospital photo will be found here in a day or so. Just click on web nursery, and look at January babies.

I know the ones Will took are way better, but there is something to be said for silly hospital photos.

His appearance is already changing a little, and as soon as we figure out what is wrong with our silly digital camera's light meter, there will be more photos.

(and yes, I am up at an ungodly hour)

You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile - Martin Charnin and Charles Strouse (Lyrics and Chords)

You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile - Martin Charnin and Charles Strouse (Lyrics and Chords)

Nice guy picked out a lot of fun songs.

Whew! Home at last!

Jason and I were escorted home from the hospital by William this morning, and he is adjusting nicely to his new surroundings, especially the big noisy kid that keeps hovering with the speed of a hummingbird.

And as for the hummingbird, she is adjusting as well as can be expected - considering she had no nap today.

Oh - and I am doing ok too. A bit spacey from the, um, changes - and the remnants of drugs in my system.

And if anybody needs to deliver in the Sugar Land area, I HIGHLY recommend Methodist Sugar Land.

Lyrics to Jason's Song: 

sms from the hospital

got this sms from will and louren earlier and they asked me to post since they aren't sure when they will get a chance :

Seven pounds, nine ounces 11:22 AM. Mother and baby are resting comfortably. I will email you a picture later. -wm

4:58am

Here we go...

Butterflies of Texas

In cataloging the Butterflies of Texas, they did not include the ones in my stomach keeping me awake. I was going to link that odious Grunge-band, but as I still believe them to be the worst popular song writers in history. Actually, I had a rant about that whole tasteless scene and about the lead singer in particular. Too tired to get into it. Anyway, what's the point of beating up Eddie Vedder? He's his own cornball worst enemy.

Anyhow: T-minus four hours. Must try to get some sleep.

Before I go, I have something important to say:

I have a little poem
'bout bring Jason hoem
he'll look just like a gnoem
or maybe Ethan Froem
that guy crashed his sled
his life was filled with dread
at bat cat dat eat fat gat hat iat jat kat lat mat nat oat pat quat rat sat uat vat wat xat yat zat!

g'NIGHT.

The Holler reckons

Kerry, MD - 9 lb, 2 oz
Travis - 8 lb, 13 oz

YES!

THANKYOUAMY!

I now feel much better about life and recent events, because I am able to blame Jason's tardiness on the NHL work stoppage!

***
My dad calls 8 lbs, 15 oz, just to be 1 ounce less than me. My friend Tara said 15 lbs - then changed it to 8 lbs, 7 oz.

Last call people, as we are at T minus 9.5 hours until we get this show on the road!

the price is right style

i am gonna go with 1 oz. I just hope that i am the last person betting.

Amy's Bet

I'd like to lay odds that Jason will be a fully-formed NHL goalie. He's probably just been waiting for the labor negotiations to complete (no pun intended--I swear!). Lou, you're a champ.

Sunday Noon(ish) Update

You guessed it.

Will says that hopefully someone told Jason that it would be a cold day in Sugar Land before he was born. It is now 42 (feeling like 37 with the humidity and wind), so this would be a good time for him to appear. Especially since we have all these cute January baby clothes for cold weather from Stephanie, via Eugene and Joann. Trust me, Jason will not be wearing pink.

In roughly 48 hours, he could be here, as I am calling a before noon baby, since my induction is starting at 5:30am. I could be wrong, but I labored "wow, fast!" as my doctor recalls via her notes from last time.

I am calling 9 lbs even for the weight. My mom has 9 lbs, 3 oz, and Will has 9 lbs 6 oz. Any other takers?

As for length, that is less important, but I am thinking 21 inches. We will see.

Saturday noon update

still no baby. But the hall bathroom is about halfway done!

Hey! That's the machine my grandfather made.

I have a picture of the Lin Yutang Chinese Typewriter in my study, signed by Dr. Lin himself

Neat-o!

Big Brother is Watching

As I type this, security cameras are being installed in the halls at my school. This is a good thing, for our safety and the safety of the students, if it is indeed just the halls. Apparently I left my school in 2005 to go on maternity leave, and when I return, it may still be 2005, or maybe 1984. We shall see. I especially think it is nice that they chose to tell the teachers after the crew had been working all week, and questions were asked.

I just hope it helps with safety and the overall climate of the school (which isn't that bad anyway), and doesn't just breed paranoia.

Friday Update

I am still pregnant. This boy does not want to come out. I did turn into psycho pregnant lady last night and scrub the shower, which my mom thinks is a "burst of energy" that sometimes signals imminent labor. But I think it just needed to be cleaned.

Poor William wakes up each morning and says "am I going to work or the hospital?" And I feel so bad telling him the truth.

Yikes, Trav!

Although, this baby is William Li's, so big is probably in the cards. I hope not 17 lbs!

My favorite is the nickname "giant baby". Very original.

Take heart, Louren

'Giant' 17-pound baby born in Brazil

no baby yet

yep, you guessed it.

And it turns out I don't have super human hearing (I knew it!), but just that my mom is going deaf. Slowly, but she can't hear high pitched noises on tv.

Poor Oma.

Why is assumpsit "not under Seal"?

assumpsit. The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language: Fourth Edition. 2000.

Because Seal says that we never gonna survive UNLESS we got a little crazy. But if you are a little crazy than you may not competent to be party to a contract so...

This is the sort of non-sequitor that just cripples productive scholarly thought.

Disturbing revelation of the day

I can hear dog whistles. I always thougth everybody could, just that dogs heard it louder. And they probably do. But apparently the whine that I hear, nobody else does. Or not many people.

Will also reminds me that not many people have 12/10 vision either (I found this out when I noticed one of my eyes was not as strong as the other anymore - turns out it is now only 20/20).

Although I would like to think this makes me a super hero, special mutant abilities and all that, Dakota today declared her father, not me, to be a super hero.

"mommy we need a hero"

"Dakota, I can fix the computer"

"no mommy. We need daddy. He is the super hero that can fix the computers."

William will be thrilled, I am sure, to know that his mutant power is...the ability to fix computers.

Daily Update

No baby yet. But Dakota blames my lack of memory for certain things on it. She was trying to describe waffle sticks that we had made, and I couldn't figure out what she was talking about. Her response: "that's okay mommy, you can't remember things because you don't have your baby yet."

ok then.

***
Oh, and on the Dakota "what I want to be when I grow up" front - although last week, she wanted to be a "sheep monitor" this week she wants to be a "fireman, policeman, or a fry cook."

Coincidentally, she is also singing McDonald's commercials more lately. Now I know that from time to time people from the fire and police stations come to talk to the kids about safety. And I do remember a field trip that I took as a child to McDonald's, but I don't think that anybody from our burger flipping community has come to talk to the kids about career choices. At least I hope not. I should probably be reading those school newsletters a little bit more closely.

At least she doesn't want to be a cocktail waitress. ;)

yet.

57 hours left for a Capricorn

'nuff said.

***
ok, maybe not. I am a Pisces. If he comes on the 21st and after, he will be an Aquarius. Not the best combination, and then I will be bookended by my children, as Dakota is an Aires. But you knew that - crazy fire girl and all.

T-minus 160 hours!

I have an induction scheduled for 5:30 am on Tuesday, January 25th. I have "made progress" and won't be graphic about it, but I am further along than I was, and the Doctor said she would be surprised if I actually end up needing the induction appointment.

So good for me and Jason!

Mom (Oma) and I are going to go walk around the lake before picking up Dakota from school. Then we will probably walk after the grocery store with Dakota, perhaps even to "the coolest park ever" as Dakota calls the local elementary school playground.

Further bulletins as events warrant. I promise, there will be no film at eleven.

Yep, you guessed it...

...I'm still here. I do have a Doctor's appointment at 10:15, and I am hoping against hope that when she "checks under the hood" so to speak (ew! graphic much!), that she will decide that I need to promptly walk down the hall and across the atrium that separates the office building from the hospital, check myself in, and have a baby.

Suzy Bates suggested I cry. I think William re-suggested that this morning. If I had the energy for faked histrionics, I would so go there. But right now it is all I can do to get Dakota out the door for pre-school (which at this point she is going to be a tiny bit late - no harm, it's not a chapel day). I am so thankful my mom is here. She is a taskmaster, making me clean house, but we have reached an understanding, in that although she would like me to clean and tidy every room in one day, it is not gonna happen. So we proceed slowly, and she is slowly happier, and I don't feel as grumpy.

So cross your fingers for my appointment!

Good Grief!

The problem with you, Chuck, is that you are a control freak. 

So I had an earlier version of this post that was unbelievably dour, which is off the mark by quite a bit. The truth is that I haven't posted about waiting for Jason because I have nothing to add. My wife is hurting and I want to bring my son home. So I rub Louren's feet, talk to my boy through her belly, and ponder that there's "Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be."

There have been various points in Louren's pregnancy that I've had some MONO epiphanies like:

* Jason is probably going to be different than Dakota.
* Jason is probably going to be different than me.
* I am different from my Dad.
* I am not Tom Quinn from MI5.
* Cars are machines operating on mechanical principals, no matter how much people anthropomorphize them.

That's it.

IT Manager tip of the year: Now is the time to reconsider 19" flat panel monitors instead of 21" CRT monitors. There is not much difference in the diagonal, the price is finally good, the realiablity is (supposedly) better, and the unit is much lighter; which your Hardware Techs will love.

Crazy Pregnant Lady --> Guilt Supreme Mom

Though I'm sure it is little comfort to her now, Louren is going to be able to take the I-was-in-labor-with-you-for-X-hours guilt trip to mythic proportions with Jason.

Prodromal Labor

I certainly had never heard of this. It never came up with Dakota, although supposedly it is more common in first pregnancies, as opposed to later ones.

"Uncertainty is the hallmark of prodromal labor. It's hard to know if it's the real thing or what to do about it. True labor is characterized by progressive dilation and effacement of the cervix. False labor eventually goes away. Unfortunately, prodromal labor does neither. Little cervical change occurs, but it seems to go on forever. It's as though the uterus is stuck in low gear. Thankfully, at some point - usually less than 24 hours but possibly as long as 2 or 3 days - a shift into high gear happens and labor progresses toward delivery."

http://www.maternitycenter.com/articles/labor5.html

I am officially 38 weeks today. That makes me in my 39th week. Babies are usually born between 38 and 42 weeks. Dakota was born at 38 weeks. True, she was induced due to my pregnancy induced hypertension, but still, she was 8 1/2 lbs! Jason is going to be bigger.

In short, I am DONE! He is DONE! Let this baby out!

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***
sorry about the crazy pregnant lady rant. It is just that because I have done this before, I know the difference between real contractions and Braxton Hicks (fake) contractions. And a week of this has been NO FUN.

I have another appointment tomorrow morning. I swear if I have not progressed any further, my mom will need to drive me straight to the Ben & Jerry's around the corner to stop my weeping.

Mega site of Bible studies and information

This is weird... wmli.blogsot.com is Mega site of Bible studies and information

Actually, someone already checked this out for me

Before I got too bent out of shape about this, I realized that anything with the typo for blogspot would come up with the same thing. So if you have a URL that is antithesis to the central message of the site like: http://allreligionsarereallythesame.blogpsot.com/ this site would still come up.

There was a time that I used to have something interesting to say about domain-name squatting. Now its down to this:

1. Attempts to regulate this have been a disaster.
2. Internet name registry is more or less a mess
3. People should be sure to register their domain name, and all spelling variants if it matters.

Certainty

This is far less significant than Jason and is late coming (like Jason), but when I read the end of To Fuss is Human, To Rant, Divine!! and thought of William's long go-round with Mike about politics, I remembered a great Doonesbury from a year or more ago. I don't want to mess with trying to post the image or make a link; besides, the dialogue is what matters. It's between Democratic talk show host Mark Slackmeyer and his conservative on-air (and life) partner, Chase.

Mark (thinking): What liberal media? Maybe I'm it!

TV: "Fox News: We report, you decide!"

Mark: That has to be the most cynical slogan in the history of journalism!

Chase: Drives you crazy, doesn't it? You know why? Because you liberals are hung up on fairness! You actually try to respect all points of view! But conservatives feel no need whatsoever to consider other people's views. We know we're right, so why bother? Because we have no tradition of tolerance, we're unencumbered by doubt! So we roll you guys every time!

[pause]

Mark: Actually, you make a good point...

Chase: See! Only a loser would admit that!

Dialogue copyright G. B. Trudeau, who rocks. I'm not trying to rip him off.

Still no baby

Although we did tempt fate in order to move him along, by driving to Humble (opposite corner of Houston metroplex) last night in order to have dinner with my mom's cousin and her husband, who had just flown in from Amsterdam (and boy were their arms tired. ba-dump-bump!). I had not seen them for about 10 years, and I think about the same for my mom. It was nice to see them, and to be reminded that yes, in Texas, everything is MUCH bigger (cars, steaks, portions of sides at dinner, etc.).

Oh, and be warned, in case you are ever driving on the north side of town, FM1960W Business is NOWHERE NEAR FM 1960W. It is actualy closer to FM1960E. Like the eastern end of FM 1960E.

Grrrrrrrrr. Silly Houston Northside.

Do you have something to share with the rest of the class?

I just heard from a third party that someone who reads this blog is pregnant. I am a little hurt that I didn't hear it from this person directly, but perhaps in all the excitement, they forgot to include us in the announcement.

Anybody wanna 'fess up and confirm this?

Still no baby

Yep. No baby. Lots of contractions, but unless they get super regular and super painful (all of them, some are super painful now), or my water breaks, I am not going to L&D again. Not worth the anguish to have them tell me no progress. Again.

Addresses

Dave, Packy and Noah, I need your current addresses so I can mail you...Christmas cards. Yes, we are late, yes, we suck.

To Fuss is Human, To Rant, Divine!!

To Fuss is Human, To Rant, Divine!! is another Blog by the illustrious William Li. I say, William Li, William Li, or rather, William Li. Possibly I mean, William Li.

There was some guy named Dave something or other who googled his first and last name and then spent a year meeting all of those people and finding that he either did or not not like/have something in common with those people.

This is something of a repeat topic for me, but whatever. What I see is more and more William Li's getting on to the internet and they are getting more interesting, accomplished and distinguished. They are also getting younger.

I wonder if John Smith feels this way.

William, your wife and daughter love you, you are about to have a son, you have a good job, you are enjoying law school, and sometimes you tell funny jokes. Isn't that enough?

Maybe. But sometimes it's hard to let things go. Like:
The time I read some stupid comment made by a guy from Brown saying that the Campanile was a piece of cake. So I fired off an email critizing him for being a loud-mouth nobody. I got the typical "William Li is a big a****** for criticisizing me, and come to think of it, he's just an a*******" tirade in response.

I'm being too stingy. This was not typical. This was the gold-standard. In fact, this is probably my favorite anti-William Li tirade of all time. Why? Because all the classic elements are so perfectly formed:

First, it's really long. Much longer than my stink-bomb of a letter. It's well-structured. The dude utterly demolishes my sad, baseless argument. The guy points out the flaws in my analogy, my empty rhetoric, and I think he is making fun of my grammar.

It is also deliciously self-serving. The guy touts his credentials as a serious journalist (he was op-ed editor at a high school for two whole years).

It's also a back-peddle. Rather than stick to his guns in insulting the Campanile staff for being slow, he walks back his original statement and tacitly admits that the Campanile staff is probably overworked and deserves sympathy (rather than ridicule.)

Most of all, it really got the guy's goat. Something like a year later, my ex-roommate ran into him at a party "You are living with that a****** William Li? That guy came insulted me in The Thresher, what an a*****!"

William, If you are so pleased with the response, why are you re-hashing it now?

There was one part of the whole exchange that got my goat.

"Editor's note: William Li is not a member of the Campanile editorial staff. "

There is almost never editorial comment on letters to The Thresher.So, any comment always means something. In this case it means, "We agree that William Li is just a big a*****."

Up yours, Thresher editors, for such a dirty trick. I guess its my own fault for insulting the easy target (the person quoted) rather than saying what I really thought, is is that the article's author wrote a terrible news story and deserves to be insulted, and maybe the editors of the Thresher should also be insulted for printing such garbage. I supposed that is what I get for being lazy.

Here's my backstory:
I wrote for the Thresher my Freshman year. I did some movie reviews (which I enjoyed writing) but then, they stopped asking me to review movies and kept assigning me sports articles. I didn't want to write them. So.... I didn't, and then I quit. End of story

* * * *

So what?

So I learned a lot about being a lazy journalist from being assigned articles about Rice Sailing and other stupid topics that I didn't want to write about. One of the things that I learned is: when you don't want to write a good article but have to (and worse, are asked by the editors to make it "balanced"), then you phone it in as follows: First you write all the facts. If that does produce a long enough article, then you try to write some pro and con side opinions. If you still aren't there yet, then you go and find people to whom you can attribute your opinions(... erm I mean "you get quotes as a form of so-called facts"). Most of the time this process is totally ham-handed but no one notices because it is buried in the middle part of the article and it makes for nice space filler.

For an example of this "Man in the street" quoting take a look at USA Today and check out how The Onion mocks it. There is also a really funny Mad magazine that mocks how The Onion mocks the USA Today. Mad magazine - yes, it is still funny. Did you hear that the original artist who drew Alfred E Newman ("What me worry") recently died? It's true. But I digress.

When Louren was working on both the Thresher and the Campanile, it became clear that the editors of the Thresher understood the real basis of my criticism even better than I did since they often criticized each other, in private, for exactly that sort of lazy writing.

Anyhow, it has bothered me for years that the real winner of the whole exchange was The Thresher. First, they deflected any notice of their rotten article. Also, they got more space filler. And also, the whole exchange made the Thresher's writers look like geniuses compared to the inane gobbledygook that was being sent in by us foolish letter-writers.

What really bothers me, even still, is the arrogance of the whole thing. Student media is a privilege, not a right. I had a similar problem with the editor of the student newspaper at City University.

I was going to segue from that last paragraph into this whole pronouncement that blogs bust up this whole hegemony, but it's not true, so I won't. At some point, there are too many soap boxes on Speaker's Corner and each new dissenting voice becomes less meaningful. Also, I read the Thresher the other day and I thought that it was fairly well written, so I guess I should quit beating up on the editor from ten years ago.

The truth is, What I am most bothered by is this William Li guy from Dartmouth. There he is... having more colorful rants than, me ... this William Li from Sugar Land. I won't admit that New Hampshire William Li has better rants, but clearly they are (in a 21-year old sort of way) more energetic, more brave (with respect to the topics that he will take on), and delivered with  more certainty. I deeply admire how certain he is about his positions.

My jealously of this energetic young man's blog brings up an ugly truth about me. I suppose I've always attacked people who were so certain because I myself have rarely been certain of anything. Maybe people (like my brother or mom) will disagree about that, but consider: I once wrote a paper in college defending philosophical skepticism over whether or not I had hands (ask Trav if you don't believe me). And for a few years thereafter, I would lie awake at night wondering if I actually did have hands.

For the most part, whenever I take a strong position on anything, there is an element of self-parody. I can always see the other side of the argument, and sometimes I see a third, fourth, and fifth side. I suppose that this will make me a good lawyer, but as a person, it gets tiresome. And as a parent, I wonder how I should answer questions. Dakota is nearly to the age when she starts to ask Why Why Why and What What What. She wants definite answers, and I just don't have them. She thinks that "elephant" and "dinosaur" rhyme... and I see her point, and don't correct her. For now, that sort of flexibility makes me her hero, but I bet she will eventually get frustrated with it.

Hopefully she will come full circle and realize that although I am merely a William Li and not even the one who is the famous fantasy illustrator., the famous engineer-entrepreneur, the pioneering cardiologist, the semiotics-internet guru or even the media executive - none of those William Li would admit that elephant and dinosaur might rhyme. And maybe she will see that as a metaphor for... something. And maybe that could be a good thing; maybe. Well, I hope so, anyway.

No birth yet

Thanks Joann for letting me know that the blog world was holding its breath about whether or not Jason was here yet. Ooops!

So we checked in around 10pm Sunday night. They monitored me for 2 hours. I contracted, but didn't dilate. So they admitted me since the contractions were strong and regular. 6 hours later, at 6am, they discharged me for failure to progress. So I have been contracting with lots of regularity since Sunday am, but as of my appt today, am still at...2cm. I will be drinking red raspberry leaf tea, eating fresh pineapple, and anything else I can think of to get this moving from the excrutiatingly painful contraction stage, to the actual labor stage.

***
My mom is here though, and is helping me to clean house before I become the mother of 2. Dakota is loving this (they are playing catch now "keep your eye on the ball, Oma!"). I am loving it too, as my house is slowly getting cleaner, and I have not so much guilt about it, because she is making me do most of the work anyway. And she is making me walk laps around the neighborhood, so perhaps that will help as well.

I promise to keep this better up to date. Info and pics will appear when we know something. Or try this link here. It is the web nursery for where we will be delivering. True, the photos probably won't be up until after we are at home (and hopefully will have blogged), but you can keep an eye out for baby boy Jason L. as it will be shown!

***
I do stink at this. Jeff just called to ask about the baby. Nope, sorry. No baby. I am doing everything I can!

Solid Waste & Recycling

Tuesday is Solid Waste & Recycling for our subdivision. We have the Christmas tree and empty boxes and out large an wild stuff.

So here's a question: How does one throw out a broken garbage can?

One of my trust garbage cans has a broken wheel and now a broken hinge. How do I get the to throw it out. It's not the size that matters. Indeed, they pick up couches and cinder blocks all the times, but the fact that its a trash can. If you mark it "Trash" that provided no additional signal to BFI to take the can away.

Now here's the really mysterious aspect.

I had a really great trash can, from back in the days of having an apartment with an outdoor aluminum trashcan inside a small apartment (ah... decor) the type that Oscar (oh this is too great a name. Here is another Oscar link[keep scrolling])would pop out of and sing about talking trash.

One Tuesday it disappeared. I don't know why.

Okay... Louren just looked over my shoulder and reminded me why. Mystery solved.

Clever title here

I was either going to put something like "The TMI graphs from the obsessive house of the obsessive Li family" or "She's fourty yards out, she's thirty yards out, ready set."

Except that I'm tired. I don't even know why I am blogging, other than its on my mind to do it. Louren is admitted to the hospital because she is uncomfortable and is having contractions every two minutes.

"What are you doing at home, bubba?"

Relax. Louren is getting some sleep (as much as you can get when they come prod you every two hours) and I will be back either as soon as its time to get an epidural or first thing in the morning. Either way, I wanted to come home and check on Dakota. She had a tummy ache from a combination of OJ, pizza, and I'd have to say a bit of anxiety waiting for her brother to come. Sweet girl. Don't worry. I've got the phone on OUTDOOR mode.

Despite everything, there is still chance that they will discharge Louren from the hospital until she is really really ready to have the baby. Strange but true.

Ok. Sleepy now. I'll let you know.

Andy- Dakota loves the shirt. I'll email some photos and probably I'll upload the best one.

Do you how hard it is to get Excel to do time scale? You have to do an XY scatter graph and convert time to a decimal number and then back to a time. 

Is 100 contractions enough for one day? Apparently not. 

Amy!

Wow, if there was EVER an excuse to miss a Calculus final, that would be it. I know I would have jumped at that chance. Except for the fact that I would have been dead and burried before I reached that stage in my pregnancy because my parents would have murdered me.

***
More meaningful contractions today, but not really regular yet. I am crawling into bed now to rest, as I am officially on maternity leave. Break out the bon bons!

Hang in there, Lou

I would like to extend my greatest thanks to you for storing Dakota and Jason so that the rest of us get to hear funny stories until we have kids of our own. Also, after hanging out with much-less-pregnant-but-less-cheerful pregnant ladies, you, madame, are a rockstar!

I agree with Will. It would be funny. I had a friend whose water broke during an AP Calculus final (fortunately for the janitors, she was in the ladies room). She went back, finsihed her test, drove home, and then was off to the hosipital. So, that's not so bad, eh? I think we'd like it better if you had some hilarity ensue, though.

Status Report

No News. Blah!

Some Old Wives' Tales are good

And some aren't. I ate the Eggplant Parmesean, had contractions every 15 minutes for 4 hours. Which was enough to seriously freak Will out, and encourage his nesting instinct. But not enough for us to need to go to the hospital.

And so far only one good one this morning. Oh well.

Will thinks it would be funny if my water broke at the faculty meeting today at 3:30. I somehow don't think so.

Kerry, get your bicycle ready or today's TMI!

Very productive OBGYN appt today. I am 2 cm dialated (out of 10), and my cervix is very soft.

My Doc also said that I will not be working after this week.

"This is your last week of work."

"Well, I was kinda hoping to work next..."

"That wasn't a question. This is your last week of work."

"Ok then. Check out this form for me please!"

At least I am glad that the appointments, although short, are quite to the point.

***
And for the "why not" factor, I decided to listen to an old wives' tale and eat Eggplant Parmesean for dinner, in order to move things along. William, himself, is more interested in other certain old wives' tales about how to get labor moving. Bully for him. All I know is that there will be no castor oil in my future, no matter how many women at my school (teachers, staff, administrators, custodians, cafeteria ladies) tell me that it works. No thanks!

***
Also, Dakota has been practicing making faces at where Jason's car seat will be, to cheer him up when he cries. However I am afraid that some of the faces might actually scare him more. We'll see.

Can't Sleep

11:30 is early to be sleepless. During the semester I am still studying at this time.

Normally this is the sort of post where the person babbles in a semi-conscious state and the reader to impart some sort of understanding from the grogginess. Since most of my posts are like that anyway, I don't see why I should bother posting anything like that.

Observation about printers: network printers are like roads in that the traffic will fill it. This should not follow. The amount of printing needed should be a function of how many people there are and what they need to print. That's not the case. People will print more if they can.

Dakota's Plan

Today Dakota told me that she was ready for our baby to be here, and for us to take him home. I told her that he is still inside mommy, and maybe not ready to come out yet. Here is roughly how the rest of the conversation went:

"Well, we need to get him out."

"OK. How do you think we should do this?"

Thinks. "We can use a rope."

"What?"

We can poke a rope in you, lassoe it around his belly, and pull him out!"

"Um, poke a rope where?"

"You know Mommy, through your belly button!"

Ok, so she knows more about the physics of what is going on than I thought, but is also, thankfully, still very naive about certain details. Which of course reinforces our decision that her being at the birth would be more of a scary moment for her, than a "beautiful experience" to share.

***
Oh, and if one more person suggests to me that Castor Oil is the way to go, or that I look (bigger/smaller) than they think I should at this time, I am going to run screaming through the streets.

Except I can't run anymore. So I will just look at them wierdly.