Notes From Home Plate

Diffusing the Anger

Published on by Lisa

Today was the deadline for our bathroom to be finished.

I was planning on a phat post about how awesome our lives are, complete with a brand new tub, tiles, and fan, rejuvenated and clear pipes, and a fresh toilet seat on top.

That is not the headline of today’s post.

If Nick gets to a level of annoyance, that means that I am approaching warning levels of volcanic eruption. I cannot believe how long and annoying this process is. At this very moment, I am listening to drills, sawing, and a very loud radio in the background to keep the workers entertained. At this very moment, as they start to clean up at 5:06pm, the bathroom is fit for someone along the lines of Jason Voorhees.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I have a tender heart. I’m a nice person. I understand that things come up, deadlines are pushed back, people work their fannies off and still things don’t always come together as planned. But, just follow how this whole situation has affected me this past week. Remember, Nick is still going to work with luggage for his showers. As if that isn’t exasperating enough to watch him truck off to work with a piece of carry-on baggage.

1) The dustbowl that is our house has flared up some allergens that make my eyes itch and throat constrict with coughing.

2) The accessible toilets in our house are on floors 1 and 3. Our bedroom is on floor 2. Which means for pregnant persons, like myself who get up in the middle of the night, one must be fairly alert to navigate the stairs. By the time I get myself back into bed, I am wide awake.

3) Interrupted sleep is making me very, very tired.

4) Isaiah doesn’t like this routine and so HE is very, very tired.

5) I am showering at work and must pack a bag everyday complete with shower sandals and extra towels. It looks like I’m moving into my work office.

And so my friends, it’s difficult for me to remain my positive self when all I want to do is scream, “GET THIS JOB DONE AND CLEAN UP THIS MESS! I’M 6 MONTHS PREGNANT!”

Sunday Blues

Published on by Lisa

Depression resulting from sports-related issues certainly cannot be resolved overnight.

I know this for a fact because it is Sunday afternoon and I am still moping over OSU’s loss last night to USC. I’m normally not an advocate of bottling away emotions without properly processing them first, but, in this case, I think it’s better for everyone in my life, especially Nick, if I just move on as best as I can and deal with the blemish on the Buckeye’s early football record.

When my sister was a highschool senior, their graduating class’ senior tshirts were custom designed for the class of 1993 and on the back it just read: Seniors rule. Deal with it.

I think I should make a similar tshirt for myself that reads: We had that game but we lost. Deal with it.

Beyond football frenzy 2009, Nick and I have had a lovely weekend of hanging out with friends, attending our neighborhood block party, and sleeping in. This morning we attended a pre-baptismal training class which Nick both led as the Pastoral Associate and participated as a soon to be parent.

It’s always fun getting the opportunity to watch your spouse in a different role, a role outside of the house. Not surprisingly he was great at making sure everyone’s little bundle of joys were on the right path to their first sacrament.

Our little saint, Isaiah, has been stretching his limbs and tumbling around like an Olympian. Sleep has been a bit finicky for me lately and some days I just feel like I just need a comfy chair to lie down in. Others days I am rip roaring with energy.

Today is a lay low kind of day. Nick is working. I can’t take any more football this weekend. And our house is a dustbowl of disaster because of the bathroom demolition.

I am hoping by the end of the day my Buckeye-induced sadness will have dissipated.

Here’s hoping…

The Weird Reasons

Published on by Lisa

I haven’t forgotten about this blog — really, I haven’t.

Maybe there are some things that are forgotten with a pregnant brain (a lot of pregnant women report scatter-mindedness and forgetfulness), but writing and this blog are not one of them.

This week, albeit a shortened week because of the holiday, has been really WEIRD.

Here’s one reason: our bathroom tub and walls are getting ripped out. The bathroom ceiling has been taken out. In the kitchen, if you look up through the ceiling hole, you can see to the top of the bathroom ceiling/3rd floor base. That’s right. From the first floor, you can see straight up to the second floor.

That means an ungodly amount of dust has settled in the nooks and crannies of our house and I am hacking away like it’s the middle of Spring. Poor Isaiah has been tumbling all around when I cough. I think he thinks I’m perpetually choking.

Also, work has turned up the heat on both Nick and I in our respective employment offices. We’re both getting up early to shower at work (we both have access to shower facilities) because we’re obviously without a tub and unless we want to hose each other down on our front lawns, getting up early and showering elsewhere is the only way to stay respectably clean. And our workload has generally increased. We’re busy bees these days.

In the meanwhile my stomach looks like a rising circus tent ready to enfold anyone who comes near it. I’ve noticed that the floor creaks when I walk on it now. Dude, I feel like a slowly expanding hot air balloon, except I don’t get to fly.

Other weird news is that OSU football season has started and WHAT WAS THAT NEAR LOSS TO NAVY AS THE SEASON OPENER? Not a convincing win. That did not put anyone at ease. And so, this Saturday against USC, has us in a quiet nervous state. We don’t want to talk about it because the intensity is just that heavy for us.

Weird reason #3, our kitchen stuff is in the dining room. Because of the ceiling hole, we had to clear out the kitchen and move everything into the dining hall. Correction: NICK had to clear out the kitchen and move everything into the dining hall. We have no place to eat and so we keep eating random foods like cereal and granola bars to stay alive and ordering out which we rarely do because we think it’s usually a waste of money.

Weird reason #4, my pregnant brain is getting uber introverted these days. That means less blogging, less writing. THIS is not a good thing, as I need to be writing everyday to stay in good practice.

Weird reason #5, REGISTERING FOR ISAIAH IS THE BIGGEST PAIN IN THE ASS AND WE KEEP TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH WE HATE IT.

Weird reason #6…Did I mention how we have to shower at work? That means NICK IS BRINGING A SUITCASE TO WORK TO CHANGE CLOTHES.

Overall, this week just needs to end.

Like, now-ish….

Two Questions during Pregnancy

Published on by Lisa

As pregnancy progresses, my writing is becoming foggy, my paintings more torrid, my age more prominent.

The two questions that remain unanswered and pumped with adrenaline are these:

What kind of mother will I be?

and

What kind of writer will I become?

Conversation

Published on by Lisa

Me: Nick?

Nick: Yeah?

Me: It’s September.

Nick: I know.

Me: Do you know what that means?

Nick: It could mean multiple things.

Me: It means our son is going to be here in less than four months, roughly.

Nick leans over and loudly talks to my belly button: ISAIAH! PLEASE STAY PUT FOR A WHILE. IT’S GOOD IN THERE. IT’S SAFE IN THERE. DON’T COME OUT JUST YET. WE’LL LET YOU KNOW.

The Uneventful Parts of Pregnancy

Published on by Lisa

Last Thursday, we had our routine check-up. I had to pick up Nick downtown where he volunteers on Thursdays and make our way from the west side to the east side of Cleveland, specifically, the Beachwood area. Our little section of the Cleveland Clinic is inconveniently sandwiched between two highway entryway/exits and the Beachwood Plaza.

That means while Isaiah is sandwiched between the walls of my body, Nick and I are sandwiched by the walls of the car, and the car is sandwhiched between mall-goers and highway drivers eager to get on the road or speed home.

We get to the office and have our freshly conjured-up questions written down on scrap paper. We are wondering about the Swine Flu (hello, Xavier University? 10 people diagnosed with the pig epidemic?), whether or not little dots in my vision are normal from time to time (they are), if my blood pressure is on track (it is), and who is going to deliver the baby (my doctor delivers 85% of her patients).

But other than hearing Isaiah’s heartbeat and Dr. McElroy pressing against certain parts of my expanding belly universe, nothing happened.

No reports on big feet. No excitement. No news.

It took about 5 mintues.

Mhm. I was expecting more.

My sister-in-law, Suzi, who has birthed four children, affirmed the uneventful period of doctor’s appointments. “Yeah, you’re finishing your second trimester so things are just kind of routine right now. Soon you’ll go every three weeks, then every two weeks, and then the last month you’ll go once a week. But for now, just enjoy it.”

So we are.

We are enjoying staying in. Nick has redeemed his NetFlicks membership and is a-d-d-i-c-t-e-d to the last season of the West Wing. I have been morosely burying my head in the women’s fitting rooms, trying on clothes to make me look like a somewhat normal version of myself. My pants are officially too tight at the non-waist region of my body and maternity clothes are either just too big or too ugly. Let’s face it. Most department store fashionistas design pregnant clothes like window treatments. Drapes, drapes everywhere. Everything just hangs over your belly.

Ugh.

Anyway, Isaiah is a growing soccer play, we are musing. Or a punter. Or someone who just has the gift of really strong legs. His kicks and punches and elbows and whatever else he is using to make his presence known is getting stronger and stronger while my ability to sustain long periods of activity are weakening. Lately, I pour myself a glass of milk and head for the couch, or outside for fresh air to get my energy back. Nick is still a cleaning machine, keeping one hand on the broom and the other on my belly to see if he can feel his boy kicking.

Nick and I are thrilled in Week 22.

A Year Ago

Published on by Lisa

I was just looking through some old things and organizing our office when I realized that one year, I had just returned from my 2 month trip to the Philippines.

So much has changed in one year as Nick and I have settled into jobs, our first house, our 4th year of marriage, and, now, our first pregnancy.

These were the roses that Nick bought and greeted me with when I returned home. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how wonderful those months were, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget how dreadful it was to be separated for that long, too.

Looking back, I am so grateful that I went on that trip that was so much more than a trip. It taught me so many things about interdependence, family, culture, and belonging. It was worth every sacrifice made to bring it to fruition. It also sweetened our marriage in ways that I never expected. Never again since I have returned home have I taken Nick for granted. Not once, not one day.

If I, or we, ever seem cheesy or overly happy, it’s because, frankly, we are and after being on the other side of the earth for 9 weeks without him, it taught me a thing or two about gratitude and love.

GEDs and LBJ Sighting

Published on by Lisa

Nick has decided to do some volunteer work.

You know, for people like Nick, for people who already work in faith-based ministry, people who spend at least 8 hours of everyday working for the betterment of someone’s spiritual enlightenment, doing volunteer work may fill a void to actually DO something for other people.
[in case you missed it, there is a heavy dose of sarcasm in opening paragraph]

So, Nick is volunteering for a catholic center helping folks earn their GED. He decides to do this on his day off.

The other day, I could have sworn there was a brief sighting of a golden halo rounding his head. I blinked and it disappeared. Oh, my generous life partner…when will you do something, I don’t know, selfish? Like, go buy yourself something. Oh wait, he hates to shop. Maybe go buy a steak dinner. Oh wait, he prefers to eat at home. Perhaps get yourself tickets to a huge sporting event. Mhm…now there’s a possibility.

Bottom line is, Isaiah is taking more and more energy out of me and there are days when I feel like lying on a couch and staying hydrated is enough work for me. Next to Nick, these days, I am feeling grossly unproductive.

And when I wail and cry that I am not participating in helping humanity achieve a greater sense of authenticity, Nick will put his arm around me and remind me, “Remember, you’re doing the most important part for us – making sure Isaiah is good and growing.”

Ah, yes, our son.

And I straighten my shoulders and quickly feel better. YES, I am pregnant and have Big Foot Borchers practicing karate kicks and swim flips inside me.

So, while Nick is off educating the world into better human thinkers, I am working full time and counting the weeks left of my second trimester. It’s gone so fast!

In other news, last night, Nick, myself, Books, and his girlfriend Janet scored major seats at the Akron premiere of “More Than a Game,” the documentary about the friendship and legacy of the basketball team at Akron’s St. Vincent/St. Mary that Lebron James was a part of. Nick and I had front row seats, which was a little close for the movie, but came up HUGE after the movie when we were about 9 feet from Lebron and his teammates featured in the documentary. It was awesome! I stared at big LBJ for 25 minutes, barely believing I was so close to the Cavs King.

The documentary comes out in October and right now is on a tour throughout the world. One of our friends is a big wig for all movie features that come through NE Ohio. When Will Smith comes to town, we get a phone call. A documentary where LBJ will be at? We get front row seats. Pretty sweet deal.

Yeah, we’re important.

Week 20

Published on by Lisa

I’m officially at the halfway point of my pregnancy.

After yesterday, and finding out the news that “it” is now a “him,” or (preferably) now Isaiah, I feel a certain solidness about life. Not that Nick and I haven’t been fully aware of the baby before, but, as I predicted it would for us, knowing the baby’s sex has personalized this whole mind-blowing experience for us.

It’s also lit something fierce under Nick.

Nick had yesterday off from work. I took the morning off but went in to work in the afternoon and when I came home, the house was gleaming from the inside out. Nick had been working his tail off reorganizing closets, making space in cluttered areas, cleaning, doing laundry, folding and stacking bedware and towels. Any miscellaneous items (usually things like my jewelry, my camera equipment, my chicken scratches on post it notes about appointments and meetings and random ideas) were all placed in a pile in my closet.

“I just feel better when the house is clean,” he says.

Not that we live in a pigsty, but our home is fairly tidy. Nick likes tidy. I like disinfectant. It’s a good combo.

But I wasn’t sure if he said “I just feel better when the house is clean” or “I just feel better when the house GLEAMS.”

Because everything is ridiculously tidy and everytime I look at my loving spouse, he’s sweating from moving something or bending over into a closet trying to clear out anything that can be thrown away.

Is that Nesting syndrome supposed to happen to the mother? Or is it the father?

I think he’s ready to be a Dad…whereas I am just feeling more and more pregnancy-tired with each passing week. My right leg is starting to cramp and my appetite is back on some form of mysterious fluctuation. Monday – Thursday afternoon, I could barely eat a whole meal without feeling like I needed to manually rolled into the living room. I ate three nuggets of cantelope and a glass of milk and feel like I ate a Thanksgiving dinner. Today, I’ve eaten more than the entire week combined and now I feel like I could do some serious damage at Old Country Buffet.

Week 20 is the halfway point, and not that we ever were thinking of “turning back,” it truly is the point of no return. Emotionally, we are just so flipping excited for this kid, we’re borderline obnoxious. I can’t believe we still have friends sometimes. How can they stand us when we’re talking and giddy all the time, thinking about our future like it’s a philosophical puzzle to figure out, talking about parenting techniques, thinking about our own childhood – what worked, what we think our parents did right…etc, etc. In sum, we are SATURATED IN THE GLOW OF IMPENDING PARENTHOOD AND WE LOVE IT AND DON’T CARE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK OF US AND OUR OBNOXIOUSLY HAPPY AND GLORIOUS STATE.

You KNOW things are seriously different when father of Big Foot himself says to me yesterday, “What do you think of this? It came in the mail.” Nick hands me a turquoise and delicately decorated piece of paper with suggestions of things to buy before the baby’s arrival.

Like an up-scale shopping list. In cute fonts.

Nick puts in on my dresser, “I think this might be a good guide of things we’ll need to buy, don’t you think?”

I just nodded wordlessly, my eyes big and unblinking as I watch him. In my brain, I hear the strains of the Twilight Zone.

Anytime the love of my life, the man who gets a headache from walking into a department store, suggests using a shopping list and actually looks excited about its futility is testament to the transformative power of Baby Isaiah.