Bella, a.k.a. Lunchroom Bully

This past weekend was a doozy... a breakfast and three parties on Saturday, followed by a baby shower and a dinner on Sunday. Somehow I snuck in a house clean-up on Sunday morning, while Jason was at the library like a good little school-goer. I even managed to make a large casserole dish of one of my favorite veggie-head meals - Tofu, Quinoa & Chickpea Enchiladas - to feed us at lunchtime for the week.

So there it was, sitting innocently on top of the stove to cool. No animal products in there, no siree bob! Just some beans and grains and such. A little mexican-flavoured Ground Round. No meat, no blood. Not a moo or cluck in sight!

As Jason and I drove away from the house that afternoon, I remarked that we had left the casserole sitting on the stove. Maybe Bella-girl would be entranced by the smells? Jason figured that we wouldn't be gone long, and that Bella's position of sacked-out-on-the-couch would remain a constant until we returned. As there was nothing in the dish to attract Bella's roving nose, I agreed and we happily sped off.

Well, nothing but a fine smattering of cheese along the top...

As the hours passed, Jason and I both started to get a little nervous. Bella's nap would surely be over by now, and the casserole's position on the stovetop became more and more perilous.

We walked through the front door to the sight of Bella perched on her chair. Ears pinned back. Head waaaay down. No tail thumping against the cushion. The guilt was so apparent in her big brown eyes, it was almost laughable.

Laughable if I weren't counting on that casserole for my lunch this week! Never, ever steal food from a pregnant lady!

Upon immediate survey of the kitchen, it seemed that Bella had eaten the entire 9x13" casserole right off the stovetop. Well, save the chickpeas that she thoughtfully spat out on the floor for us to have... while she might like tofu and cheese, it seems that chickpeas are not part of our little glutton's food reperatoire!

Jason quickly dragged all 60lbs of her by the scruff of the neck into the kitchen, Bella pushing with her front paws against the floor to try stopping him. She hung limply at his side as he berated her amidst the rejected chickpeas. Bad Dog!

Both of us were suppressing giggles the entire time, as Bella cowered at our feet, feeling shame, looking up at us with her big brown eyes.

Her tummy was so distended, we knew we'd have to take her with us to our dinner date in fear of leaving her at home. All that fiber, what if she needed to go outside? Every once in a while, she'd let out a nasty mexican-flavoured burp. Yikes.

I sat on the couch not 10 minutes later, and she sidled up beside me and placed her head on my lap with her puppydog eyes. She was still feeling shame. How could I resist, she's so cute???? I petted her little head.

It's occurred to me that Jason will more likely be a successful disciplinarian than I with our children. I crack so easy.

He lasted at least 3 minutes longer than I.

The funny thing is, people talk about dogs not having any long-term memory. I think it's BS. I know that days later I could pull out the dirty casserole dish and Bella would drop to the ground with her ears pinned back, immediately reliving the shame. How many kids do you know that are so well-trained? Tee hee.

Plumber's Crack

I come from a line of plumbers... my grandpa, dad and brother are all plumbers, and although they all have skinny little bums, none of them were ever a victim of the ubiquitous plumber's crack.

I, however, am not so lucky. Now close to 16 weeks, my belly has made the leap over the low waist of my jeans. As the day wears on, my belly pushes down the front of my pants, which in turn brings the butt of my pants along for the ride. Tah-DAH! Plumber's crack!

How come none of the pregnancy books talk about this?

In other news, Halloween is just around the corner! So yesterday, I took a field trip to Dressew to get materials for Jason's and my costumes... we're going to be VAMPirates, because just being pirates is not enough! So I spent hours huddled over my sewing maching in between bouts of swearing and stomping my feet to get our costumes just right.

I am a bit of a stickler for details and like my costumes to be perfect. Jason humoured me, trying on his breezy lace-up pirate shirt on a bazillion times as I pinned, tucked and cut. I'm glad that he is as into dressing up as I am! Oh wait, that didn't come out right... I mean for HALLOWEEN of course! Pervert.

Seriously though, last year we ran the James Cunningham Seawall race in costume. I was the Little Bad Wolf and Jason was Big Red Riding Hood! Jason got the most cat-calls for running in drag, he even went to the trouble of shaving his legs and wearing a stuffed bra with little carrot nubs for nipples! It was a little chilly out, after all!


Big Red Riding Hood and the Little Bad Wolf post-race, 2004... 

2005 pictures to come.

Arrrr, matey! Bwah-ha-ha-haaaaaaaaaa!

Identity Crisis!

Who knew a name change could be so dramatic?



Last night my company changed my email address without notifying me... nor did they alias my old account to the new one. All morning I've been receiving phonecalls from people that had mails bounced back and are desperate to get in touch with me for various reasons - in need of a spin sub, problems with my code, etc. etc. So my morning has been a whirlwind of phonecalls and password prompts to get myself reinstated as myself!



Crazy.



So I sent out an email to my contacts list asking people to change my address. All of a sudden I get a flood of catch-up emails... People I haven't heard from in AGES want to get together for lunch, sending me pictures of their new kitten, feeding me gossip about who's together, who's apart and who's pregnant... so much to catch up on!



It's 2:00pm and I haven't got a lick of work done. Not that I'm so sad or anything, I'm a veritable fountain of information after this morning's email readings!



AND I've lined up someone to take over my yoga class at the YWCA starting in November. In the last few weeks, my balance has become atrocious and my right hand gets really sore after class. My spin class also wraps up on November 15th. For the first time in FIVE years, I will not be teaching anything outside of subbing classes. What will I do with myself? Go to classes for fun? Actually use my complimentary YWCA membership? The possibilities are endless...



In the meantime:



JC: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

LS: Good luck with your million errands before takeoff... come visit me for a latté!

JVDZ: Renos suck. I hope your life returns to normal soon in your beautiful Silver Sage bathroom!

AJ: Hope you are doing well, looking forward to Sunday!

CC: BLOG! You know you wanna...

One Way Conversation

Since the wedding, Jason and I have been super busy - honeymoon, Ironman, renovations, pregnancy... In the meantime, I've been struggling to keep in touch with all of my friends, people that I would usually have a once-a-week talk with, a coffee or dinner with, even if it was only an email back and forth.

But life is what happens when you're making plans, and things just seem to get in the way. Over the past few days, I've managed to reconnect with a few of my girlfriends and it feels like I'm doing all the asking... finding out what's new, what's happening, who's hot and who's not...

Why are they so silent? Because they all read my blog!!!! They already know what's going on from my end!

NO FAIR!

So I'm making a rule for AJ, LS, JC, JVDZ, CC and JF... if you read this, you must COMMENT and tell me what's going on with you! That way we can get the one-way third degree out of the way and get straight to the juicy stuff!

In other news, the downstairs is almost completely demolished and the upstairs is coated in a fine layer of dust. Shades of grey. But things are happening quickly now and Jason has assured my worried pregnant self that NO, we're not crazy for doing this and YES, we should be finished in time for the arrival of baby Camp.


Did I mention we found Stucco underneath the Gyproc? 


And the wiring downstairs is aluminum, which needs to be changed to copper... MORE WORK! 

We've also decided on a few possible names for our monkey but are refraining from telling anyone. It's driving my sister-in-law crazy! Good fun! (and no, one of them is NOT Wyatt Earp!)

My girlfriend Jen is getting married and has asked me to be one of her bridesmaids - she gave a killer speech at my wedding and I'm hoping to do just as well... better start now!

And lastly, the pain through my hand I was feeling last week has dissipated and I'm able to work comfortably. I have to be super careful with teaching yoga and spin though, and also with doing work downstairs.

Speaking of symptoms...

Guess how common Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is in pregnant women?



How about computer programmers?



So, as a pregnant computer programmer, you can imagine my horror to wake up yesterday morning with my right (dominant) hand cycling through various stages of numbness, tingling and burning! It felt much like I hit my funny bone, but in my wrist and the palm of my hand for hours on end.



At first I thought I overdid it teaching yoga the day prior, or maybe slept funny - I'm trying to switch from sleeping on my back. I made an appointment with my trusty RMT, to release tension in my shoulders that I thought was the culprit. After ridding my upper body of said tension with her deft hands, she told me to sleep on things and if I was still experiencing the numbness, to go to my physio.



I spent a restless night (sorry Jason!) of tossing, turning and propping my hand up to ease the aching, unsuccessfully. If flames could shoot from my wrist, they would - Spiderwoman with Flamethrowers!



So off to the physio. More prodding, twisting and turning. Nothing was working. He says CTS and the hackles on the back of my neck go up. CTS is to a programmer what an knee injury is to an athlete. Game over!



Fortunately this type of symptom usually goes away after delivery, when I will no longer be retaining fluid or having crazy levels of hormones running rampant through my body. But I still have months of work left. What to do?



I'll take sore boobs and nausea anyday, thankyouverymuch!

Just call me "Busty"

Each morning I wake up and it seems as though there is something new waiting for me. The first trimester brought



* Seemingly walnut-sized bladder

* Nausea

* Creaks, cramps and groans from my round ligaments and uterus expanding

* Lightheadedness if I get out of bed too quickly (increase in stroke volume requirements without the increased blood volume to match)

* Fatigue



The second trimester has brought



* GIANT boobs



Normally I would not be one to complain about such a thing. In fact, I've looked forward to this part of the pregnancy - finally I can show off some cleavage! All my life I've wondered what life was like on the "other-side". The women in my immediate family all belong to the "Small-Breasted Women have Big Hearts" fan club. We can cavort freely sans brassiere, not a care in the world.



Not so any longer. The last few days I've woken up with these mounds on my chest - it seems they are alive with the network of blue veins that runs like a map across my chest. They are puffy and sore and heavy, not at all what I was expecting or hoping for!



Immediate thoughts are along the lines of



"WHAT ARE THESE?"



"WHOSE ARE THESE???"



"DON'T TOUCH THEM!!!"



Okay, maybe GIANT is an overstatement. But it's all relative for me and my girls. As far as I'm concerned, they're GIANT.

Drunk on Hormones

Today I'm enjoying a morning working from home. A steaming pot of Earl Grey (with honey, which I'm not allowed!), an extra-long ball-hucking session with Bella Girl, cuddling with my hubby before he goes off to the bus stop. I could get used to this!

Can't wait for mat leave...

I have decided that if the first trimester was all about the Paunch, then the second trimester will be all about the hormones. Over the past few weeks, I have noticed myself getting clumsier and clumsier. I just smacked my forehead on Jason's easel while bending down to scratch my ankle. I tripped and fell on the dog leash down at the park, in front of 3 other dog owners. I break things.

Not only that, while at the numerous Thanksgiving dinners over this past weekend, some of the stuff that's come out of my mouth has been downright obnoxious! Sometimes funny, sometimes too blunt, I just keep sticking my foot in my mouth. Jason called it my "Pregnant Voice"... a.k.a. my "SHUT-UP!!! Voice".

I think I'm drunk. Drunk on hormones.

At the midwife's last week, I had to do a weigh-in. I've gained 8 pounds! I seriously thought the scale was broken!!! This is the most I've ever weighed in my entire life, so weird. I even had to buy a new bra the other day, which I was slightly proud about I have to admit! They've moved my due date back a week, to April 25th. A Taurus. Jason scoffs at my belief in astrology, but I have no doubt that this baby is gonna be stubborn! In any event, I can now feel my uterus bump, and I have no waistline left.


Monkey taking over my Waistline 

In other news, Dozer's owner has returned (and the crowds cheered!) and things around Chez Camp have returned to normal. No more wet toilet seat, no more kibbles in the bedroom, and Queen Bella has been reseated on the throne.


Bella's Rightful Spot on the Throne 

I have 2 yoga classes to teach today, so I'm off! How much longer before I can no longer do the Cobra?

Dogs of War

For the past two weeks, we have been dog-sitting for our next-door neighbour. Dozer has made himself at home. He is male, and therefore insists on usurping the resident Bella from her throne at Chez Camp. Not much we can do about it, unless we leave him next door - in which case he howls and howls.

So he eats all the food before Bella gets there. This includes holding kibble in his mouth, transporting it to other locations in the house, and then proceeding to drop the kibbles wherever he pleases. If you go to the bathroom and flush the toilet, he rushes in after to drink from the fresh, cold porcelain water decanter. If you shut the lid, he just sticks his head under it. Either way, the next visitor gets a wet seat. Lastly, he's been digging in our back yard and tracking the mud everywhere when he comes in. Gr.

BAD HOUSEGUEST!

Bella is getting a bit sick of him because he's cramping her style. Usually I can take her for off-leash ball-hucking before work. I can't let Dozer off-leash since he takes off and refuses to come back. So poor Bella just gets lame walks around the block. Poor little whiney doggy.


Dozer stealing Bella's favourite spot by the Window 


Bella hiding from Dozer (and keeping my feet warm) as I work from home