The Middle Ages

Today my darling husband told me, "We are in the 'maintenance phase' of our lives". He was referring to the plethora of health related prescribed aids we have been so recently acquiring.

Snort!

I turned 36 three days ago.  That certainly doesn't sound like it should be time for 'maintenance', does it?  I mean, really, I'm still well this side of middle-aged, relatively grey-hair free, fertile... and married to a much older man.  He celebrated his 36th two weeks ago, thank you very much!

So, speak for yourself, buddy!  Maintenance phase my ass!  (My taut, slim, wrinkle-free ass...)

Alright, so today was a bit of a reality check, but that doesn't mean I'm over-the-hill, or even half-way up the slope.  I had a dentist appointment, that's all.  I was fitted for a new mouth guard.  No big deal, I've had one since I was 24, and you certainly can't call THAT maintenance.  So I'm a nocturnal teeth grinder.  Big deal.  You would be too if you were married to someone who had the audacity to infer that you were middle-aged!  Of course, last month at my regular check-up, it was a little daunting to hear, "Oh, you really have to stop grinding your teeth, four of your bottom ones are loose now."   Oops!

So yeah, I've got a brand new mouth guard.  Apparently more effective than the old one that I admit I have gotten out of the habit of wearing of late.  The old one provides a barrier between my top and bottom teeth, on which I can, and did, continuously grind away.  This new on prevents me from closing my mouth together whatsoever, hopefully retraining my jaw to behave itself as I sleep. And it's an ugly sucker!

So that's all he was referring to, really.  Well, that and maybe the tiny fact that (again this is according to my darling husband and no other eyewitnesses whatsoever so you can decide for yourself the validity of the claim) that I have started snoring.  And waking up gasping for air at night.  Like certain people who've had sleep apnea for years.  So I talked to my midwife about this today.  Told her that I have never been more tired in my life and I can sleep for hours and not feel rested. And my husband mistakenly believes that it is I who is snoring.  So, the other thing that I grudgingly picked up in the city today was "Breathe Right Nasal Strips".  Merely as a precaution, because I certainly have not developed a pregnancy induced apnea.  Nope.  Not me! Snoring?  Hah!

There, that's it.  Hardly anything worth worrying about.  Right?

Well, of course, there's also the teeniest little tiny detail that I may have, inadvertently, failed my 1-hour glucose tolerance test.  The blood test done in the second trimester that rules out gestational diabetes. I've never failed it before, so I was a bit surprised to learn that I hadn't aced it this time, either.  So, tomorrow I am off to the lab to have three blood tests spaced at 60-minute intervals after drinking something akin to McDonald's orange drink, to test my body's response to the sugar surge. But, hey, according to Google, two-thirds of women that fail the 1-hour test pass the 2-hour and do not have diabetes.  So the odds are most definitely in my favour.  Most definitely!  :P

But that's it, I swear! I am no where near middle aged (or 'the maintenance phase' which really doesn't sound all that more appealing).  My body is not falling apart on me.  It is healthy, shapely (round is a shape), feminine and nurturing, teeming with life (a very active one with very pointy limbs that keep getting jammed in my side) and, might I repeat, NOT FALLING APART ON ME!  :)

There, that's it, rant over.  On to more pleasing topics... PHOTOS!!!

 My husband and I on his birthday... Alex took the photo.  He was supposed to capture my enormous 26-week baby belly, but a different baby got in the way as he was snapping the photo! 

Alex giving his Dad the "Choose Your Own Adventure" book he'd spent most of July secretly writing and illustrating.  It's awesome!  I'm very proud of him.  

 

My sweet baby boy's eighth birthday!  How did he get to be eight already, when I've barely aged a day? 

We just helped my husband's grandmother celebrate her 90th birthday. She's the one in the middle, between her daughter and her grand-daughter.  Three generations of Coccia girls! His other grandma will be turning 94 this year.  Kind of puts this aging thing in perspective, huh?  

My baby girl... four... who lovingly wished her parents a Happy Birthday and guessed their ages to be 65.  Don't worry, we set her straight pretty quickly! :)

 And my birthday, with my oh-so-ugly and impulsive haircut. Why oh why do I do that to myself??? And hmmm... come to think of it, with four birthday celebrations in 12 days, maybe there's a reason my blood sugar levels are through the roof...

My FOUR children... three on the outside, one on the in! And that is the ONLY time you will ever see a photo of me in a bathing suit on the internet!



Now, to get in a bit of reading before I retire for the night in my new, sexy, mouth guard and nasal strips.

So where did I put those bifocals?