Update

We went to Fairfax Hospital this afternoon to have Meg's bilirubin level checked there to measure for jaundice. Apparently they have a much accurate and sophisticated way to check for the levels than the pediatrician's office. The good news is the level is now 17, down from 17.5 earlier today at the doctor's office so we don't have to admit her for the phototherapy treatment. We go back to the ped's office tomorrow for another check, but we're feeling optimistic.

Poor Meg though. She's been getting heel sticks twice a day practically since she was born. Good thing she's not having to walk anywhere.

The Birth Story, Part i

Thinking about Meg's birth, it makes most sense to break the story into three chapters. Plus, with my limited attention span, it increases the likelihood I'll finish this before she goes to middle school. Don't worry, really gory details have been omitted.

Just about every night last week, I convinced myself that I was going into labor. I would come home from work, shuffle around making dinner and doing laundry, and as I was getting ready for bed, I would notice contractions. They weren't particularly regular or painful, but they often would take my breath away briefly. I also noticed that the baby seemed to be sitting, er, down low which often would cause some shooting pain in my groin. I tried not to stress too much about it, I just went to bed figuring if it was real labor, the pain would be such that I'd know if it was real soon enough.

Friday, I went for my regular doctor's appointment. It was supposed to be the last regular appointment before operation inducement the following Wednesday. My regular OB had been out of the office and was pretty booked, but since I needed to see her before meeting her in the hospital on Wednesday, they put me on the schedule in an overflow spot of 8:30 a.m. -- way earlier than I would schedule an appointment for myself on a day I'm not working.

I went in for the exam fully expecting to hear that there was no progress. Certainly that had been the case in the weeks before. Instead this time, she announced that I was 3 centimeters dilated. When I asked what that meant, she said, "That you're going to have this baby soon." Of course, soon in OB talk doesn't mean in the next 15 minutes, it really meant sometime in the next couple of days, certainly before Wednesday. She then did a sonogram and was surprised to find that there wasn't much amniotic fluid. Apparently there were a few pockets left so no immediate cause for alarm, but based on that and the fact that I was already progressing a bit, she asked, "How would you feel about having this baby today?"

Of course, I jumped at that offer. "Great. Let's come to my office and I'll call the hospital and set you up for an induction." What we would do, she explained, was I would go in to the hospital and they would give me a little pitocin to speed the labor along. Since I was already progressing a bit, she didn't think I would need much pitocin or that it would be a particularly long labor ("Short, like eight or nine hours" which frankly seems like a long time to me). Dr. Lawson was on call that day, which was good for me since aside from my regular doctor, Dr. Bannon, I had seen Dr. Lawson almost as frequently. Dr. Lawson had just finished her residency and started at the practice about the time I found out I was pregnant so we had a good rapport. The only negative I could think of was that she's probably only 30, if you figure graduating from college at 22, medical school at 26, and four years of residency. Somehow I hadn't expected someone younger than me to be delivering my baby.

After Dr. Bannon talked to the hospital, she explained that that Friday was a busy day at Virginia Hospital Center. Apparently all the 7 a.m. inductions for that day had been pushed to noon so they couldn't take me immediately. "How would you feel about a 7 p.m. or even midnight induction?" That was even better for me, actually. It would give me a little time to talk to Bjorn, call my parents and get my affairs in order. I also had this idea that I would take a nap to rest up.

Bjorn had kept Andy with him at home while I went to my appointment with the idea that he'd meet me at her office about 9 a.m. to hand Andy off to me and he'd head in to work. Instead, I called Bjorn and we met at Chesapeake Bagel Bakery to discuss what she'd told me and what we needed to do to prepare.

After going over the particulars and calling our parents to make arrangements, we came back around to names. Bjorn had been lobbying hard to call the baby Katie. While I love the name, it would mean naming her Katherine and I wasn't sure about us having the same name. He liked Katherine Anne, I liked Elizabeth Margaret or Margaret Anne. Since Byron Andrew honors both Andy's grandfathers, I liked the idea of something to honor both grandmothers. After debating for a bit, I suggested rock, paper, scissors to make the call. He wisely suggested we table the discussion.

That day, I spent some time food shopping so that we'd have plenty to eat this week and ran to Target for last minute toiletries. I also compulsively tidied the house (not that anyone but me could tell), completed a bunch of little projects that had been bugging me, repacked my hospital bag two or three times, got stuff together for Andy since Mark and Bjorn's mother would be watching him overnight and putzed around in the baby's room. I tried to nap, but I couldn't shut my brain off so I ended up cleaning out a closet instead as I waited for it to be time.

Jaundice

Miss Meg has jaundice. The pediatrician seemed to think it should be "obvious" that she has a touch of yellow, but we certainly hadn't noticed. They did the heel stick and tested her blood yesterday and her count was 14, apparently 20 is the worry point so we weren't worried.

Bjorn took her back today for her follow up to spare me more heel sticking (plus I was home with Andy who naturally has a stomach bug with vomiting and diarrhea). Turns out her bilirubin level today was 17 - yes, the wrong direction. So we're off to the hospital in a bit for a more accurate test to better evaluate her levels. And if they are indeed worrisome, we have to admit her for two days while they administer light therapy. The therapy et al sounds fine, but I am not liking the idea of leaving her. In the meantime, I have her wrapped in her bassinet by the window in our bedroom hoping to get some light on her and hopefully reverse course on this.

I'll keep you posted.

Pictures

Margaret Anne, hot off the presses. To think they said she'd be 8 1/2 pounds on the high end if she delivered on schedule. As it was, she was 8 1/3 a week early.

The happy and exhausted parents.

My mother and Meg's namesake.

Meg's other grandmother and other namesake. (To be fair, Margaret Anne is neither of their names exactly, it's more an homage to Margareta and Nancy.)

Andy meeting his new sister. Me looking like I just had a baby.

My mother's bag. You'll notice the small bottle of Dewar's in the pocket. She is a very smart lady.

The O.B. who delievered Meg. She stopped by to check on me and was so glad I took her picture when she was cleaned up and hadn't been on call for two days. And yes, I do think she's younger than me.

You guys said I could wear sweats to leave the hospital. And I did. Great decision.

We're home

It's been such a busy few days I'm not exactly where to start, but the bottom line is we're now home with a lovely baby girl we're calling Meg. Ten fingers, 10 toes and everything else seems where it should be. I can't tell who she looks like although she does seem to resemble Andy a bit when he was a baby. Her eyes are slate blue at the moment and her hair is a brown with a hint of what looks like blond tips. Some day she'll likely pay money for that shade. Labor the second time around was no walk in the park, but it was a lot shorter and generally less traumatic. My doctor believed in medication early and often so I think that made for a better experience. I'll post the full account eventually, but for now, we are home. We are happy. Life is good. I apparently need to come up with a new name for this blog though. Thoughts?

Meanwhile, please keep this little baby born on the same day as Meg in your thoughts. I can only imagine how scary that must be.

BGB!

Hello, Internet from Guest Poster Betsy.

I just got the great news from Bjorn that BGB has arrived.

Margaret Anne Bennett was born at 3:09 AM, starting what will hopefull not be a long trend of making her mother lose sleep. She is 8 pounds, 5 ounces and 21" long. Baby, Mommy, and the rest of the family are doing great.

As you can see, she is beautiful and looks just like her daddy.

Either that, or Bjorn should have sent me a picture.

Congratulations, family!

Yes, they are staring at you

A while back, I bought a whole bunch of plastic eyes so Andy could put them on paper sacks and make puppets. It was a feeble attempt at a craft activity. Naturally, he didn't want anything to do with the project so the eyes have been safely tucked away with his crayons that he also doesn't use very often. Until now. Suddenly he is interested in coloring (especially doing connect the dots). So he got out his crayons, discovered the eyes in the bottom of the bin as he dumped out all his crayons and promptly put them all on the couch. I guess we won't be revisiting the puppet craft any time soon.

I had my doctor's appointment today and BGB is actually making a little progress. Here's hoping she comes soon, healthy and that the delivery is painless. I'll keep you posted.

New games

Andy's new game is counting fire hydrants. He calls them "fire hyders" and we spend time walking or driving trying to count the ones he sees. It's quite cute except he usually loses count and asks for my count which isn't always reliable.

The other new game we have is running around in a circle in our house. It's a colonial and all the rooms on the entry level connect so when we're in the dining room, he makes a loop through the kitchen, to the hallway, through the living room and back to the dining room. Then we count how many laps he's made. I remember playing a similar game at my grandparents' house in Pecos. My grandfather proudly counted while we ran and they drank Scotch and smoked cigarettes. Nice to see some games pass from generation to generation.

We're now exactly a week away from D-day. My last day at the office will be Monday, giving me one day to get last minute affairs in order/attempt to rest before the chaos begins. That seems quite close (and it is when you look back on the past 39 weeks), but right now everything aches, it's hard to sleep and my enormous belly gets in the way when I try to do just about anything. I'm also having some serious Braxton-Hicks contractions that are distracting. I actually think they should be called constrictions because when I have them, they sort of take my breath away as it seizes my belly. It doesn't hurt per se, but it definitely catches my attention and makes me pause. It also temporarily makes me warmer than usually so I have to sort of cool down afterwards. Quite glamorous to be having hot flashes.

I did have a wonderful moment this week where I looked in my closet with glee realizing I'm this close to never wearing these maternity clothes ever, ever again. Sure, I won't be back to my old size after the delivery, but at least my clothing options will significantly increase. Best of all, pants will stay on my waist without having to be pulled up to my bra.

Pregnancy brain

As if there aren't enough reasons (namely a big one pressing on my bladder) to want this pregnancy to go ahead and end, today I managed to leave my purse at Costco. Fortunately, Bjorn was calling me just as they had recovered it so he was able to swing by and pick it up not long after I left it. I was at home by then and hadn't even noticed it was missing. In my defense, it is frigid here so I was undoubtedly in a hurry to hurl my enormous self into my car where the wind chill was above 10. I do hope my memory improves after the baby comes or else in addition to my lack of muscle control making it so I can't hold the baby, I'll likely leave her somewhere, too. Good thing I will be supervised the first couple of weeks.

Nine days and 15 hours left.

Upper management

It snowed here yesterday. It was truly beautiful. We got a good 3-4 inches in Fairfax, enough that the roads were a little messy, but it never got below freezing so it wasn't so bad. We're expecting a big cold snap this weekend so it was imperative to get the driveway and sidewalks cleared before they froze solid. Bjorn and Mark spent some time clearing and Andy "helped" by holding a hoe and "digging." Apparently he did not stop talking the entire time they were working making Mark declare that he was ready for upper management since all he did was talk and not do any work.

The snow also delayed my doctor's appointment from yesterday until today. Apparently the doctor's office cancelled all their afternoon appointments with the theory that it was safer for everyone to reschedule than try to get to see them. Unfortunately, moving it to today meant I had to take Andy with me. Bad since I knew I'd actually have to take my clothes off for this one. I stressed about it, but it turns out all I needed was his Thomas catalog. When my sister sent Andy his birthday present (a cool Thomas tunnel), it came with a catalog of other Thomas items. That catalog is apparently the most interesting publication he's ever seen because he "reads" and rereads it over and over again. At my appointment, he quietly read his catalog and could barely even look up when my doctor talked to him. It ended up working out perfectly.

The other good news about the appointment is the baby seems fine and healthy as do I. The bad news is that she seems perfectly happy where she is. No movement, nada, despite my encouragement that she can go ahead and come out now. This also goes completely against my gut that was telling me the last few days that something was happening. Turns out it was just wishful thinking. Sigh.

You'll get the news, I promise

I know that waiting for this baby is like watching water boil, but rest assured I'll let you know when (if?) this baby makes her appearance. The plan is that Bjorn will send out an e-mail to my trusted blogging proxy Betsy when the time comes and she will post something here letting you know. I'm not expecting anything for a couple more weeks, but keeping my blog updated is one of the things keeping me up at night. Well, I think it has more to do with the heartburn, but this is what I think about when the heartburn refuses to let me sleep.

I do it!

We have officially reached a stage where Andy wants to do just about everything himself. "No, I do it!" is a common mantra. Unfortunately, for a lot of things, he can't quite do it himself so I have to be standing close enough for when he's ready. Sometimes he gets quite revved up about it that it sparks tears when I have the nerve to do something, like put a straw into his yogurt drink or put the jam on his toast for him. It's cute. And annoying.

And after a few successes at potty training, we're back to him not wanting to go near the potty or even talk about it. Even my bribes of chocolate, cookies, Thomas underwear and crack cocaine aren't getting any interest. The other night, I conned him into sitting on the potty before his bath. He complained his "penis is empty" so after a bit, he got in the bath where he promptly told me he was peeing. Lovely. I am trying not to push, figuring he'll let me know when he's ready, but the other side of me is thinking he's three now and it's time to get moving on this.

As for the baby, she seems quite content where she is for the time being and is wreaking havoc on my system again. I've had some nausea off and on the past week (hello old friend vomiting, I haven't missed you) and I've now got heartburn with such force that I am trying to avoid just about everything except bananas and plain toast, which doesn't seem to be making a difference. In researching possible remedies, I picked up What to Expect When You're Expecting and their answer was that heartburn can be avoided by eating healthy and not gaining much weight early in the pregnancy. What good does advice like that do me? Nothing like kicking a 9 months pregnant woman when she's down.

Oh no

Yikes. Dallas just lost to the New York Giants. The GIANTS that we beat twice in the regular season. It's going to be a very long off season.

Happy Birthday to Andy

Andy had his third birthday on Friday and he proudly spent the entire day telling everyone, "I'm th-free" while trying to hold up only three fingers. We celebrated with pancakes in the morning, a few presents a 2 1/2 hour doctor's appointment for BGB while they tried to estimate how big she is/will be and with a trip to the burrito store.

Today we had his party, and by party I mean we invited his best friend Mia, her dad, my MIL, Bjorn, Mark and me. We had a Thomas cake from Giant that turned out pretty good even though I think the food coloring in the icing may have permanently stained my dining room table and teeth. I probably could have invited one more kid and his/her parents once we found out my niece had a school event preventing the rest of her family from coming to the party, but I think it turned out well anyway. Andy and Mia had fun together and the rest of us got to visit without the chaos of lots more kids.

With BGB on the way, Andy's birthday really got me thinking back to the day he was born. It's hard to believe it's been three years already. He has grown so much, physically and mentally over the past few years. I like to think I've grown a lot as a parent, too (not Bjorn, of course, he knew all this already and didn't need the refresher, he says.)

Now that we have successfully made it past Andy's birthday, BGB can officially be born now. I really wanted to get past the holidays and past Mark and Andy's birthdays. Now that those hurdles have been cleared, I am just about ready. The doctor estimates the baby is about 7-7.5 pounds now. If she gains half a pound a week until delivery roughly, that makes her 8.5-9 pounds. That seems quite big to me, but it's probably not so big I can't at least attempt a normal delivery. Not that a normal delivery is on my list of favorite things to do, but I hear the second one is usually much faster and somewhat easier than the first and having endured the longer version, I'll sign up for the shorter one in the hopes that it makes my recovery easier, too.

The detailed sonogram was very cool although the baby is big enough now that she doesn't fit on one screen so it's hard to really see that it looks like a baby because they could only focus on a few body parts at a time. The good news is the brain and heart as well as kidneys and bladder all look good, flowing the right ways and in the right places. The only reason it took so long as she was being modest with her hands on her chest so they couldn't get a good look at the heart.

Oddly, the best part of the whole visit was on our way out, an older lady who had been riding on the elevator with us stopped to talk. She asked Andy how old he was and then told me she'd never seen a three year old with such an extensive vocabulary. Sure, I have no idea who this nice, red-haired older woman is. She could have been escaping the dementia ward at the hospital for all I know, but who cares! She thinks my kid is a genius and you just don't get enough of that.

Dress up

Naked drummer boy, complete with towel/cape.

Andy in his pajamas wearing his hat and his backpack, fully loaded with Mutt, Jeff and Steve.

I had a theory that girls are more interested than boys in playing dress up. This based on a few get togethers lately where the girls couldn't wait to take their clothes off and start dressing like Cindarella while the boys found something to break. Then Andy went and proved me wrong. Turns out he likes dress up, just not into a fairy princess. This kid cracks me up.

So it's officially less than three weeks until BGB makes her appearance. That makes me about 37 weeks, which makes me pretty much full term, meaning I can burst at any time now. I'm conflicted hour by hour on wanting this baby out now, now, NOW and figuring she's fine in there/who the hell said I was going to be capable of this? The hospital bag is now (mostly) packed. I struggled with clothes to pack for myself. They say to pack what you wore at 6 months, but I can't remember what I wore last week, much less two months ago. So I have over-packed and probably the wrong things. If only it were PC to wear sweats home from the hospital.

I think I have all the baby gear lined up, too. My office threw me a surprise shower and the folks in my department kindly gave me separate gifts of clothes so between that, Andy's old stuff and what my mom got me a few weeks ago, we're looking good (where it's all going to go is another story). Sure, it looks like a bottle of Pepto threw up all over the baby's room, but it's just so cute! Bjorn is horrified. I still haven't rented a breast pump. Soon. Promise.

What I have been surprised by is how much this kid can kick and move around when she wants to. I swear sometimes it feels like she's just going to kick hard and punch through the skin. She is also safely head down at this point. That means she's gearing up for her eventually exit. It also means when she kicks hard or stretches just right, she can really wallop some discomfort down below. It's to the point that if she's really getting me just right, I have to change my position.

We keep reading books to Andy about the new baby and he is generally happy about it. He does refer to her as "my baby" which is pretty adorable with that toddler speech impediment. We also talk about the things he can do that she can't, like she won't be able to watch the DVD in the new car (that seemed to make him feel big and proud). However, she will get to drink out of a bottle. It's going to be interesting to see how this goes.

Let him eat cake

Andy turns three this Friday. I had been going around and around about having a party, and ultimately we've (well, me) decided on a family party with the addition of Andy's good friend Mia and her dad. I really debated doing something more interesting with several of his friends, but since kids this age have to bring their parents (and possibly other siblings), inviting even five kids along with family ended up being a pretty big crowd. Frankly, a bigger crowd that I feel like entertaining at 37 weeks pregnant.

I have been looking around for cakes and it turns out they sell them at Giant. How cool does that cake look? Andy is going to love it.

In other news, I have officially put BGB on the wait list for a daycare affiliated with Andy's school. Andy's school doesn't start until age two, but this one starts at 6 weeks. It's right around the corner and since they're affiliated, we would jump to the top of the list and get a discount on registration. I have no idea if we'll go that way at all, but it does feel nice to have something else checked off the list, just in case.

Target practice

When my mom was here, we went shopping at Babies R Us and among the loot, Mom picked up some Piddlers, which are designed to be toilet training target practice. I moved them to the upstairs bathroom and put one in the potty for Andy. He still sits to pee (we'll worry about standing up later) so instead of it being a target, the game is to make it float. The exciting thing is that it has proved to be an incentive and he's actually peed on the potty 4-5 times this week. (His older brother, Mark, who turned 19 today, also likes to use these and I only know because flushing the toilet is not his strong suit. I know, ew. We tease him about it.)

Andy's usually is successful on the potty in the evening, either before or after his bath. Our attempts in the morning have been less successful. We're thinking we are going to just have to wake him up when we get up and get him to the toilet before he has a chance to go in his diaper. I think we're a ways off from being potty trained and I certainly don't intend to spend a ton of time on it since the new baby will likely cause some regression, but progress is still progress.

Andy has generally been darling this week. I try to remember to talk about him when he's being great and not just when he's making me insane. We had a host of parties the last week and he was a good sport at each and played nicely (mostly) with the other kids. Even tonight, Liz and I went to dinner and he managed to eat and entertain himself nicely with some blocks afterwards so Liz and I got a chance to really catch up. That is a pretty rare occurrence. It would figure that he's becoming better in social situations just in time for us to ruin it with a new baby.

Speaking of the new baby, I am now on to weekly doctor's visits. It's a good sign that I'm getting closer, but it also sparks the return of physical exams. I suppose it's just getting me ready for labor and delivery where I'll be flashing dozens of strangers. The good news is that everything with me and the baby look good, the bad news is that 25 days out, she looks perfectly comfortable where she is. I'm generally getting tired of this pregnancy business. My clumsiness has reached new heights. I probably spill a drink of water a day (I try to stick to water as it's easier to clean) and last night I moved too fast off the bed and smacked my knee, hard, as I fell on the floor. I do hope my balance and coordination return shortly after delivery or this kid may need to wear a helmet to survive.

The dark side

We have officially gone to the dark side. We bought a minivan yesterday. Sure, it's really roomy inside with seating for 7-8 and room for car seats in the middle row and the third row (the reason that the Hyundai Santa Fe and Toyota Highlander were taken off the list). It's also got sliding doors that are great for getting kids in and out and a huge back space behind the third row so I can have the seats up and my stroller et al in the back.

It also turns out the model we got comes with a DVD player, sunroof, leather seats and heated front seats, making it by far the nicest car either of us has ever thought about owning. Still, it IS a minivan. Scary to think that by the end of the month, I will own a house in a suburbs, two kids (a boy and a girl, naturally) and a minivan. Suddenly I'm starting to look like an adult. Yikes.

Gran-mun-ner

My mother came this weekend to visit and help get stuff ready for BGB, who is now officially due in less than a month. We toured Babies R Us (it's been a while since I've been there) and stocked up on newborn diapers, a new Diaper Champ, some newborn nipples for bottles and lots of other things that I haven't needed in a few years. I still have some stuff left to do, like rent a breast pump and some other exciting details, but I feel pretty confident now that the main stuff is on hand.

It was really good that she was here to help me really think about what we needed to get. While I'm very ready to not be pregnant any longer, the thought of a newborn in the house is actually quite scary. A friend gave me the name of a night nurse she used a few days a week with her daughter that I'm hoping can help me a few days a week when BGB comes. My theory is that if I can avoid the true, all-consuming bone-numbing fatigue that comes with a newborn, I might actually be able to survive getting up three or four times a night for months on end. I swear after having Andy, I began to understand why slept deprivation is a form of torture. It really does mess with your head.

Speaking of my head, I am recovering from an ear infection. If you're counting at home, you'll know that this pregnancy has brought me:
1) Four months of morning/afternoon/evening sickness.
2) Stomach flu.
3) Strep throat.
4) Never-ending cold.
5) Fluid in my left ear that refuses to drain due and makes it difficult to hear.
6) Bronchitis.
7) A middle ear infection.

I'm back on penicillin and I'm hopeful this will knock it out. I went to my internist as opposed to my OB and I'm glad I did. He listened to my lungs and said it's not pneumonia, which is a relief since I've been coughing for two months. The ear was definitely infected so he gave me the antibiotic as well as some steroid nose spray that is safe in pregnancy. He hopes the nose spray will help dry up my sinuses and hopefully dry up the fluid in my ear as well. Fingers crossed.

Andy loved having my mother here for the weekend. She spoiled him by reading him lots of books, helping him work puzzles and generally being his playmate. He was sad when we had to say good-bye to her at the airport although I imagine my mother was ready for a good nap.

Merry Christmas

I'm only posting this one of me and Andy because it doesn't look like I'm 35 weeks pregnant here. Sure, I don't look svelte or anything crazy, but I don't look, "Holy cow, you're big!" the way some people seem to think (and naturally say to me, with the exclamation point and everything). Of course, I am sitting and leaning forward, but I'll take it at this point.

The big kids looking tired as Andy is quite chipper blowing through presents and wanting to play with everything right now.

Andy opening blocks from his Grandmother. He spent a large part of the day making a car out of them blocks. Too bad his version of a car is eight inches tall and two inches wide.

The grandchildren with their Fafa after the jultompe came and left presents.

Andy, looking quite dapper in his blue blazer, oxford and gray slacks. Too bad he has decided to squint whenever the camera comes out in anticipation of the flash.

Merry Christmas to the enormous pregnant lady

As an early Christmas present, Andy has managed to use the potty successfully twice in two days. I still think we're a ways off full-blown potty trained and with a baby due in five weeks, I'm figuring whatever we do now will succumb to regression as he gets used to all the changes in the house. But I'm encouraged that his interest has picked up again. Certainly the fuss we make over it and the special cookies (a piece of Cookie Crisp cereal) help.

We're officially ready for Christmas around here. Andy has been loving the Christmas books we've been reading, especially the Polar Express. Bjorn has hidden lots of the presents for their big debut on the 25th and we have a separate special pile to take to his mother's tomorrow for the Swedish celebration. Jennifer and I even went out today to get our nails done -- pedicure for me and a manicure for her. If Santa looks at nails to determine if we've been good or bad, we're all set.

I'm definitely feeling more and more like a pregnant whale these days. When shopping the other day, I had to park pretty far away and found I had to pause half way there. It's wasn't that I out of breath per se, but seemed to develop some type of a walking cramp kind of thing in my side. I know I'm out of shape, but dang, that's harsh. I'm also finding it harder to sleep more than a few hours at a time (cruel irony since I know what's coming). My left ear is still stopped up and the cold is not showing signs of going away. I'm now resigned to the fact that neither will improve until after I have this baby. Now if I could just figure out how to have the baby, take a week to recover by getting lots of sleep and perhaps drink plenty of wine and THEN start caring for a newborn, I would really like that. That's possible, right?

The last piece of office furniture -- the filing cabinet -- is now out of the baby's room and into the basement until we figure out exactly where it should go permanently. Andy and I spent some time getting the baby's closet together and putting some baby clothes away. I haven't packed a bag yet, but it's definitely starting to seem more real. Yikes.

Meanwhile, as a little Christmas present from me to you, check out this really awful school picture over here. The crying kid combined with the bizarre phallic mushrooms and creepy lizard combine to make a portrait that this kid's parents will use for blackmail with friends and girlfriends the rest of his life. It's gorgeous.

Christmas is coming!

It's so much fun watching Andy gear up for Christmas. There are still parts of it he doesn't get, but generally he's excited to help wrap presents and he loves putting presents under the tree. We have talked about Santa and he's dutifully opening his advent calendar, but I'm not sure he's put the whole thing together yet. That said, I can't wait for Christmas morning when he comes down to see that Santa has come. I'm even thinking we should leave some cookies out for Santa Christmas night to help get ready. Well, if I get around to making cookies.

It's been funny talking with Bjorn about Christmas traditions now that we have to worry about Andy remembering and getting it (or questioning us). His tradition is opening presents on Christmas Eve (when the Swedes traditionally celebrate). That evening, the jul tompte (Christmas elf) comes and leaves gifts for the children. There is usually a fun event when everyone goes out to look at Christmas lights or the moon or something and the jul tompte usually comes and leaves presents when we're gone. It's quite fun and involves lots of glogg (Christmas wine) drinking.

For my tradition though, we have stockings over the fireplace and we rush down Christmas morning to see what Santa has left us (assuming we've been good). Usually there are a few unwrapped presents from Santa and gifts in our stockings. Then we settle in to open presents from the family. Bjorn and I disagree on this part though -- I say there are Santa presents and then presents from family, but he says they're pretty much all Santa gifts. So much so that he wants to hide all the presents until that morning to make a bigger impact. You'd think we would have this all worked out with Mark and Jennifer, but by the time Bjorn and I got together seriously, they already knew about Santa so it wasn't a big deal. I think I'm okay with doing it his way...so long as he's the one moving all the presents. I'm not quiet as helpful in my enlarged state.

My cold/stuffed ear continue to nag me, which is making me more pregnant and cranky than I think I would be otherwise. My doctor said to take Sudafed as needed during the day and Benadryl at night to try and dry everything out. It is definitely improving my symptoms and I love that the Benadryl is helping me sleep. All the drying is unfortunately making my throat pretty dry, but I'll take that over the coughing and snot making any day.

Mutt, Jeff and now Steve

When Andy was little, he fell in love with a stuffed dog. It was a cute, brown Gund, officially named a Treynor. Once I noticed the love, I made a point to order a few extras. What I didn't realize was they came in various sizes so I ended up with a few little Treynors (that bark if you squeeze them) and a bigger version. Andy saw the bigger one and had to have it, too. We (I) named them Mutt and Jeff.

That worked pretty well for a while. I had spares on hand to wash in case of emergency. It was also nice to know that if one was lost, the world wouldn't end because we had it covered.

When Andy started his new school in February, he had a whole new nap routine. To make it easier, I sent along a Mutt back-up dog for him to sleep with at nap time. That seemed to be going pretty well. Andy didn't really question why Mutt was here and there. Until recently.

Andy pressured me into naming the new dog since it was obvious it wasn't Mutt. So I came up with Steve. Random. And, of course, it stuck. Now he loves Mutt, Jeff AND Steve -- what a happy trio -- and insists that Steve go with him back and forth to school now. Around the house, he now talks to his dogs and takes all three of them with him everywhere. I am a little worried that at this rate, he's going to find the spare Jeffs hidden in the closet and he'll be carrying six matching stuffed dogs any time we leave the house.

Ginger bread house

Jennifer is back from college and babysat Andy for us Friday night so we could go to my office Christmas, er, holiday party downtown. She brought along a ginger bread house and Andy was beyond excited to help her decorate it. I was actually quite impressed with his attention span with it. Of course, it was a new activity and he was excited to see Jennifer, but still. They did quite a nice job. Andy is very proud of himself for having "made" it. I swear, this kid likes to claim credit for stuff he didn't do all the time, but that's another story.

I put the completed project in the center of the dining room table and he keeps talking about how he wants to go inside the house and stay there. Sure, it would be cramped, but come on Mommy, it has a door! What else do you do with a door besides open it to go inside?

Santa Lucia

We were cool urban people tonight and went to the Swedish Embassy in Georgetown (which is new and quite magnificent) for Christmas songs, including a Santa Lucia procession where young beautiful women sing songs with candles on their heads. The weather was supposed to be nasty, causing folks all over the area to stock up on ice and snow shovels only for the area to only get a light dusting...of rain.

Andy enjoyed the singing of the Swedish songs, as did I, especially the few songs I recognized. Afterwards, we sipped glogg and ate Swedish pastries (none as good as Bjorn's mother makes) before dancing around the Christmas tree to more songs. There were tons of little kids of all shapes and sizes. Andy wore his blue and yellow Swedish flag skull cap the entire time we were there. He looked quite cool actually. I only wish my ear would unstop and I could hear things normally

Naturally, I forgot to take my camera. I am clearly in the real forgetful stage of pregnancy, which combined with my intense pregnancy-induced clumsiness, makes me a danger to be around. One month, 17 days, and 17 hours to go.

Much better

Thanks for your well wishes. Andy seems much better. He took a long nap Monday afternoon (so long I even kept checking in to make sure he hadn't died from the anesthesia. What? What's so weird about that?) Since then, he's been chipper and quite darling. Well, he's still 2 11/12 so he has his moments, but he seems to feel pretty good.

The nurse instructed us (well, me, Bjorn doesn't do baths in our house at the moment although that might have to change in a couple of months) to put cotton in his ears just until he gets the all clear in a couple of weeks that the ears have healed properly. Unfortunately, I can't seem to master getting a little cotton ball into his ear without it promptly falling out once he hits the bath water. He is also supposed to be getting antibiotic ear drops for the next couple of weeks. The instructions say five drops in each ear twice a day, but Andy is dead-set against them so it's more like two drops in each ear, each day. Oh well.

As you can see from the picture, he seems to be feeling pretty good. Here he managed to take the furnace air filters, carry them upstairs and proceed to "make a train." I'm not sure what he was envisioning exactly, but it's clear he has an imagination. He loved playing with those filters so much that I finally had to remove them under the cover of night to get them out of view. I love how strange and active his mind is right now.

Surgery

Today was Andy's surgery for his ear tubes. I was nervous, but it all went quite smoothly. In fact, the folks at the Fairfax Surgical Center were exceptionally throughout and efficient. Quite an operation.

7:00 a.m. - Leave the house for Fairfax City.

7:15 a.m. - Walk in the doors for an 8:30 a.m. surgery, slightly off the 1.5 hours they recommend.

7:20 a.m. - Check in and go upstairs to another waiting room.

7:25 a.m. - Consult with the anesthesiologist who explains that it will be a general anesthesia and it shouldn't be a big deal. BUT he warns that about one in a thousand do have a reaction so they have breathing tubes and other gear on hand just in case.

7:30 a.m. - We go back into an area like an emergency room with curtained rooms to sign papers and change Andy into a gown while they check his temperature and blood pressure. Then they give him a little Tylenol in advance of the surgery to take any edge off. The procedure is technical painless, but apparently all the ear popping afterwards can be uncomfortable. Bjorn is also given a gown to wear over his clothes since he will be the one holding Andy while they give him the anesthesia.

7:45 a.m. - I'm sent to the waiting room, Bjorn and Andy head for semi-sterile toy room while they wait for anesthesia and talk to Dr. McBride about the surgery.

8:00 a.m. - Andy is given the anesthesia mask. After three deep breaths, he passes out. Bjorn is sent to Consultant Room 2 in the waiting room where we wait together.

8:15 a.m. - Dr. McBride comes to talk to us. Andy did great. The tubes are in place and the fluid that was in his ears have been drained. He's free to take baths and swim in the pool, but he needs to keep his ears plugged if he swims in less sterile water, like in a creek, lake or ocean. After this, he should hear much better. Bjorn and I look at each other wondering how much smarter he'll be now that he can hear. We are due to see the doctor again on December 26 to see how everything is going. In the meantime, he is to finish his Suprex antibiotics and also get prescription ear drops to use for the next couple of weeks to make sure the tubes stay open.

8:25 a.m. - We're taken to the recovery room where Andy is just starting to sit up. He's transferred to my lap in a lazy chair where he groggily cries for his dog and his binky. The nurse gives him a little apple juice and he and I cuddle while watching Clifford the Big Red Dog (a terrible show that Andy doesn't mind today.) The nurse explains again that he might be groggy for a bit, but that by the afternoon he should be himself again.

8:45 a.m. - Get him dressed again.

8:50 a.m. - We're given the all clear and walked to the elevator, which takes us to a door to the parking lot that is different than the one we came in. Andy is still groggy and a little whiny.

9:00 a.m. - Swing through the Dunkin' Donuts drive through to get Andy a chocolate donut with sprinkles and much needed coffee for the grown ups. As Andy eats his donut, he starts to perk up like his old self. Whenever he burps though (and apparently that is several times this morning), he complains that his ears hurt. This must be the popping they were talking about.

9:15 a.m. - Arrive back at home. We put Andy in our bed to cuddle up with his dogs and watch some Little Einsteins (or "Lil Eintines" as his calls them). He refuses to take his hat off, as you can see. I give him the antibiotics and some more apple juice.

10:30 a.m. - He's now wide awake and hyper although he alternates between hyper and saying he's not a little tired, but "big tired." Bjorn administers the ear drops, which Andy says tickle and are cold.

11:30 a.m. - We try to put him down for a nap and count our blessings that this all went so smoothly. Now if only I can arrange for labor and delivery to be this quick and mostly pain free.

'Tis the Season

Andy is old enough now to understand the advent calendar. Well, sort of. He's old enough to understand counting numbers and the idea of opening the little windows every day (and eat the chocolate). He's not quite old enough to get the concept of what he's counting down toward per se, but it's still fun each day to see him open his window. It's pretty darn cute.

Saturday we had Andy's sibling class at Virginia Hospital Center. It would have been better had we arrived on time and/or not spent 10 minutes trying to locate the room for the class considering it only lasted about an hour. But Andy did instructions on how to gently hold a new baby (using a doll) and sing it a lullaby. We also took him on a tour of the labor and delivery and post-partum floor. We'll need to know where that is soon enough.

We also saw the nursery. The lovely nurse teaching the class warned that we might not see any babies in the nursery since they "really encourage rooming in," but there must have been at least 10 tiny babies in there. Intellectually, I know how small they start out, but it was a good (and scary) reminder to actually see hours old babies. I think it's finally hitting me that we're going to have a tiny baby sometime next month. Wow.

Andy has been a darling most of the weekend, including getting his hair cut (quite short) this morning. In all this cuteness though, I know his ear surgery is tomorrow. I'm trying not to worry about it, but it sort of lingers in the back of my mind. We had the pre-op appointment on Friday with his pediatrician who is always exceptionally nice. She gave me some basic advice, like how it's hard for mothers to watch the anesthesia take effect since the kids often look like they're dying even though they're not (funny, the surgical nurse who called to give me last minute instructions said the same thing). The surgery is tomorrow morning. I'll post something when I get a chance letting everyone know how he's doing.

Bouncing

Last weekend, we went to another birthday party at the Pump It Up indoor moon bounce. Andy was more excited about it since he'd been the week before, but he still was timid about going on the slides. Fortunately, Bjorn came with me this time so he was able to coax Andy onto a couple of the slides and get him into it. Andy has since been asking about going back to the moon bounce place every day.

The first picture is of Bjorn on the ride. Dang, those slides are fast. I was bitter that I couldn't really jump on them myself since clearly they're sturdy enough for adults. The slides are really quite fast for anyone who weighs over 100 pounds though. All the adults that went down the slides found themselves not stopping at the bottom as is intended by the bumper at the end, but instead halfway across the room. It was really fun though. We decided they need to open it later in the day and serve drinks.

Meanwhile, this second picture cracks me up because it seems like Andy is purposely not listening to the instructor that was telling them what to do. Likewise, Mia looks downright pissed to have to endure the talk.

Art?

Andy brought this home from school this week. From what I gather, it's a little baking tin with some purple baking soda-esque paste in it -- it's still a little mushy, but not wet. Then there is a purple fuzz ball off to one side and on the bottom, is the Little Jack Horner rhyme:

Little Jack Horner sat in the corner
Eating his Christmas pie
He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum
And said, "What a good boy am I!"

Is that supposed to be a Christmas pie with a plum in it? Random. And pretty scary actually. Bjorn wanted to throw it away immediately, but I rescued it in order to take a picture. It will soon make it's way to the trash again. Before you get outraged, I do try to keep a lot of his art, certainly for a few days at least, but some of it is just so bad that it has to go very quickly.

What? Is a baby coming or something?

Just today, my friend Jenn returned a bunch of Andy's stuff and my cousin Frances sent me some stuff from her daughter. On top of the crib we already had, glider I bought from a friend, rug Bjorn bought, shoe moulding I installed and a dresser, suddenly the room is looking just about ready for a baby to go in it. How crazy is that?

What's weird is with all the baby stuff taking over the house in combination with all the Christmas decorations out, suddenly my house is feeling exceptionally full and disorganized. I'm not especially clean and organized to begin with so that's saying something. It just seems that in every room there is an extra chair or table -- hopefully temporarily.

And since I'm clearly nesting (and therefore somewhat hyper and manic), what stinks is that a lot of it is too heavy for me to realistically be lugging up and down the stairs. That means my frenzy is dependent on someone stronger than Andy being around and willing to move things for me at a moment's notice. Yeah, Mark and Bjorn don't think that is getting old at all.

One month, 28 days and 15 hours to go. Not that I'm counting. (Actually, I'm not technically counting either, but my Yahoo! widget is counting for me.)

In case you're curious, this is what the room looked like a couple of weeks ago.

More antibiotics

Andy goes in for his ear tube surgery a week from tomorrow. That didn't stop him from developing yet another sinus infection (as identified by the prodigious amounts of eye goo he had this morning) and reinforcing that this in indeed the right thing to do to keep him healthy and happy. Once we saw the goo, I put in a call to the pediatrician's office who called in a prescription for Suprex (at a cool $50). Hopefully that will clear him up until the surgery when the new found ear drainage should help prevent every cold from turning into something more severe. In this case, I think this is the same infections he's had for weeks that we just can't seem to get rid of.

As he's on his antibiotics, I am on amoxicillin for the cough I've had for weeks now. The doctor said it sounded like bronchitis, but she's an OB and not necessarily an expert at diagnosing regular stuff like this. I haven't noticed a difference since I started taking the medicine on Friday, unfortunately. It could be that like Andy, I can't seem to shake illnesses these days either. Apparently pregnancy weakens my immune system so that my body won't reject the fetus as a foreign substance. Yet another side effect I'm having these days. I'll admit it's been tough, being big and pregnant (read hormonal and cranky) is trying enough without adding on all the infections that make it harder to get through the day and sleep at night. The most irritating thing about this most recent illness is my left ear is totally stopped up so I have difficulty hearing as well as telling if I'm talking too loud. At least we're coming into the home stretch -- only eight more weeks to go to my due date. And that means just five weeks until I'm 37 weeks and considered full-term. Yay! (And shit! There is a lot to do between now and then, including Christmas.)

Meanwhile, I'm on Bjorn's computer tonight and found this old picture of Andy. I think it's from summer 2006. I love how round and babyish his features are. And I laugh to think I thought he was ready back then for finger painting. If I recall, he really only succeeded in getting his hands covered in paint and never really got the point of drawing on the paper and making a mess everywhere.

Starches, sugars and carbs, oh my

I failed my glucose test, that lovely test where you have to drink a bottle of super sweet, flat Fanta-esque orange drink and then get your blood drawn to look out for gestational diabetes. Apparently I was borderline, coming in at 134 when the cut-off is 130. My sister was right, apparently until a year ago it was 140, but they recently dropped it back to 130. Great. That meant I got to back for the three hour fasting glucose test where I have to not eat anything after midnight the day before, get my blood drawn, then drink the Kool-Aid and have my blood taken again at one hour, two hours and three hours. It was pretty grim.

My sister advise me to really hunker down and have a good diet this week in preparation. I think that's slightly cheating, but as she said, if I don't do it now they'll make me do it later. I was even holding back from the Tootsie-Rolls that my office mates have around the office, which is hard for me. While I don't much care for dessert, I do love candy. Drinking the glucose wasn't that bad, I got fruit punch flavor this time, not the orange that I've had before.

It was sort of interesting hanging around a doctor's office. I brought plenty of work to keep me busy, but I love to people watch and wow, is that fertile ground. Things were packed again, apparently Fridays are their busiest day with all the doctors in the office (normally someone is at the hospital). Plus, apparently Fridays are the chosen day for folks to schedule OB appointments since a lot of government workers have compressed schedules. There were several men there to support and a few kids with dads, probably to see the ultrasound. At the peak, there was a problem with enough seats, but this time men and other women were fighting to give them up to a pregnant lady. I must have just gotten there on a good day.

It was also interesting to see all the drug reps stopping by to hand out free samples of vitamins and other things. I counted two in an hour at one point. They all look the same - women in their mid-30s and 40s wearing tight fitting work suits, carrying a PDA and rolling a suitcase.

I got my OB visit in while I was there. BGB is now head down, but again she was refusing to look at us so I haven't gotten a good look at her face. It's pretty cool seeing the ultrasound now. In the beginning, it's just a speck on the screen and now she's so big her body won't fit on the screen. She's definitely looking more and more like a baby which is pretty amazing. I didn't get a lot of ultrasounds with Andy (my old OB was pretty old school and didn't have a machine in her office) so it's fun to see her develop as all I can see day to day is my belly growing and moving. The other bonus of the visit was I had gained less than a pound in the last three weeks. Score! Some earlier appointments were quite disheartening in the weight gain department making me fearful I'd end up with a 20 pound baby so it's nice to know the tide might be ebbing a bit. I wonder if that means I'll get to stay in the clothes I'm in for the duration.

Speaking of duration, I'm at exactly the two month mark until my due date. Not that I'm counting for anything.

Pictures galore

Now that I have a new camera, I've been taking a lot more pictures to try to get used to how it works. No sense practicing on BGB when she comes, I need to get my practice now so I can make sure to document every 15 minutes of her life, much like we did with Andy. I swear with the ease of digital photography we could almost put all the pictures of Andy in a row and watch him age before our eyes. That would be kind of cool actually.

Andy and I walked down to the park last week to check out the playground and feed the ducks (and play with my new camera). Those specks in the distance are the birds. Andy is waving the bag at them telling them we have food. As you can see, the response was not immediate.

We had two stale hot dog buns to feed the ducks. I gave Andy one and instructed him on tearing off bits to throw into the water. He them promptly threw the whole thing in. At least he hit the water.

The ducks, er, mostly geese once they finally came around. The buggers were pretty aggressive so after a bit, I had to shoo them off with my feet to keep them from chasing Andy. By the end, he was karate kicking at them to keep them away. Rather amusing.

This one is out of place with the others, but I liked it anyway. Here Andy is after a bath where he declared it was "too cold" and promptly curled up in the hallway. I'm not sure why exactly either, but he wasn't so cold that he didn't want to smile for the camera. This kid sure loves to mug for the camera.

Nursery 2.0

We (actually, Mark and Bjorn) spent a good part of the weekend clearing out the computer room to make room upstairs for a nursery again. We now have both computers in the basement and the room is empty except for my non-maternity clothes and a massive filing cabinet. Both will have to move before too long, but the bulk of the work is done.

They also got the crib out of the attic. It all looks so small seeing it again. I need to get out and find a rug for the room though. With Andy, the room still had wall-to-wall carpeting, but it was old to start with and pretty nasty by the end of it all. So when when we switched Andy's into a bigger room, we exposed the hardwood floors. They're in good shape, but I think something warmer on my feet would be good for all the late nights and early mornings in winter.

As you can see, we still have to put the crib et al together, but at least we have the space to do it. Plus, unlike last time, the crib is in six big pieces and not 30 little ones so it should be easier to put back together.

We went to a birthday party at a place today in Manassas called Pump It Up that is a huge indoor moon bounce with slides. The kids liked it, even Andy who is afraid of moonbounces got it and jumped around a little bit. The odd thing was that they made us sign a waiver saying we wouldn't sue if we got hurt. Then as you approach the room, there are signs saying by entering, I understand they are not liable if I or my dependents get hurt. They even have a training video to watch so you understand what you're getting yourself into. I know America is litigious, but wow, this was pretty over the top, it seems.

We've been on a birthday party circuit the last few weeks. So much so that Andy is now asking about his birthday party (he has asked both me and Bjorn if we can come). This is posing a bit of a dilemma for me. We haven't really done a party for him in the past, but he'll be three and this year he knows not only how old he is, but how birthday parties work. So I feel like I really have to throw him some kind of a party, but on January 11, I'm going to be 9 months pregnant and most likely uninterested in a huge party. I've been thinking about just inviting 4-5 friends with kids Andy knows over for a small party so he can do cake and celebrate, but where do I draw the line? In January, it will be winter so inviting five families means at least one adult and one kid, possibly more. Then adding in some family it will easily get to be 20 people. So much for a small party. Thoughts? Tips? Drug suggestions?

Christmas card

Here's the top (and so far, only) contender for the Christmas card this year. The sun is a little too bright in the background, but I think everyone looks pretty good. It's too bad Andy is looking the other direction, but he's smiling at least. What do you think?

Happy Thanksgiving

It's been a nice day and we have lots to be thankful for, like good health, family, friends, jobs and a seemingly healthy baby girl wiggling inside my belly. Then the extras, like the Cowboys going 10-1. Granted, it was the New York Jets, but I'll take it.

We went to the house of old family friends of Bjorn's for omelettes and Bloody Mary's before coming back to get ready for dinner here. We had a thin crowd, just the three kids, my brother-in-law and us, but it was nice, friendly and low key with some amazing food.

Andy picked today to be too hyped up to nap. He's so exhausted now he can't sleep. He wore his blue blazer today as did his father and they looked quite darling. I also got all three kids to pose for some Christmas card possibilities. I like the idea of getting the whole family in the picture, not just the kids, but with my ever-expanding waistline that causes bitchy women to ask if I'm having twins, I opted out of that this year. Next year...

I'm still getting used to the new camera. I only took 70 pictures today and blew through two more batteries (at least they're AA). It's so much more powerful it requires me to actually think. What's up with that?

Things NOT to say to a pregnant lady

I'm not a delicate flower. I like to joke and have a good time. But being an enormously pregnant with the knowledge I have many more weeks to go, I am a tad cranky (Bjorn would disagree over the "tad" part). It doesn't help that people can be total morons when it comes to talking to pregnant ladies. Here's a list of things people have said to me recently that I would safely put in the "avoid" column.

• Don't ask if I'm having twins. Hahaha. That's so NOT funny.
• Don't tell me how big I'm getting. I know that. While I'm excited about the reason, the actual getting big part actually doesn't feel that great and comes with a host of side effects.
• Don't tell me stillbirth stories. Bad things happen, I get it. Really. I'm also worried about it so, please, don't give me more things to worry about that I might not have thought about already.
• Don't tell me how terrible labor and delivery is. I have done it once already and wouldn't recommend it in a Zagat guide or anything, but it's sort of unavoidable. If you've got good advice, like how it was helpful to take a class or bring a book to the delivery room, great. But don't just tell me how terrible it is. At this point, the kid is eventually going to have to come out one way or the other so why give me more to worry about?
• Don't tell me how hard it's going to be to have two kids. I'm terrified enough of the prospect. Again, tips are useful; blanket statements that scare me are not.

There is a lot of fun stuff to talk about when having a baby. Like clothes and gear. Like stupid baby names (Apple or Pilot Inspektor anyone?) Like what crazy thing my celebrity pregnant BFF, Nicole Richie, has done recently.

New toy!

As an awesome anniversary gift, Bjorn got me a new digital camera. To be exact, it's a Canon PowerShot SX100 IS which is tons more powerful than my Kodak EasyShare DX7630. It's so much more powerful and fancy that I still haven't figured out how to use it properly. But when I do, stand back (even Andy looks scared here of what can happen) because it's going to rock the house. I'm pretty excited about it.

I've even been reading the manual for this one because it's so much fancier than just pointing and clicking (and I know once I figure it out, I'll be able to do all sorts of neat stuff). What's funny is it uses terms I used to (almost) have a handle on, like ISO, shutter speed and aperture, but with the last few cameras I've had, they have been so simple I didn't have to bother. Now I'm finding I need to look up what they mean so I can use it right (sure, the manual has 12 blank pages for "notes" but they couldn't include a basic glossary of terms?)