Had another doctor's appointment tonight. Well, I guess I should say midwife appointment, since I've never actually met any of the doctors in this practice. -sigh- I love the midwives. I wish that I could have had them for my previous 2 pregnancies. I'm lucky enough to have relatively problem-free pregnancies, and I'm also quite knowledgable about pregnancy and I'm a laid back person...perfect for having midwives. Tonight was no exception to confirming my love of these ladies.
Weight gain was 0 lbs. Total weight gain at 30 weeks: 10 lbs. My previous 2 doctors told me to get on it and start gaining weight. They were worried that I was dieting during pregnancy (as if!). Midwife's response: "You just aren't gaining much weight, now, are you? But you have good sized babies anyway, so you must have some secret."
Told/complained about nerve thingy. Doctor told me to put Bengay on it. Midwife's response: "Oh, I had that with my second child. I'm so sorry. It hurts really bad. Have you tried yoga? Don't worry, it should go away when the baby is born."
Asked when I need to start worrying about kick counts. Doctors told me 3rd trimester to just sit and count...blah blah blah, I can't remember the specifics. Midwife's response: "If they make you feel good, do the kick counts. I think they add too much stress. Just know your baby. Check in a couple times a day with the baby...have some baby time. If you notice that there is decreased movement...for your baby...then call us."
Love them, love them, love them. Maybe part of my problem is that my previous doctors were all men in their 50s. Perhaps having a female doctor would have made me love them also. But I am enjoying this experience tremendously. My midwife tonight was delighting in the baby moving in my belly. She must see this so many times a day...but she was squishing him and feeling him move, saying hello to him. So fun.
Now we start going every 2 weeks. Next appointment...Valentine's Day. The receptionist actually said, "Oh, dear, 2 weeks from now is Valentine's Day. Should we pick another day?" Um, no, thanks. I have 2 kids under 4 and I'm in my 3rd trimester of pregnancy. The kind of romance I have lined up for this holiday can be squeezed in after a 15 minute doctor's appointment, thank you very much. Unless you'd like to babysit?
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
b.o.r.e.d.
I don't think I could be more bored. Stir-crazy. Cabin fever.
It is a beautiful sunny day. A bit windy. Okay, pretty crazy windy...our door from the garage into the house blew open, despite the fact both garage doors are closed. That's pretty windy. But sunny and lovely.
My son refuses to leave the house. He loves nothing more than following me around the house all day dumping random toy bins just for the joy of hearing me scream in frustration. He rarely plays with anything for more than 5 minutes on days like today...just shadows me around, getting underfoot, and refusing to do ANYTHING that I suggest. Do you want to paint? No. Do you want to bake cookies? No. He wants to play "neighbor", which we've already played 600 times in the past week. Want to know how to play "Neighbor"? Andrew asks you what your name is. He is always named "Football" or something and Lily is always always his wife Buttercup. Once names are established, Andrew rubs in how his house is nicer than mine. And then he asks me lots of questions. "Do you like jaguars? How many children do you have? Do you have a job?" etc etc. Nothing ever comes of these questions. I suggest we go on a pretend safari to look for jaguars...nope. Just wants to ask pointless questions over and over. I swear he's going to be a sportscaster someday. Anyway, other than play neighbor or dump crap all over the house, Andrew is just underfoot. DRIVES ME CRAZY. I want to get out of the house. But I don't really have anywhere to go or anything to do, so it's not worth the fight to get him into the car. Why fight the epic battle when there's nowhere to go.
Oh, yes, there's nowhere to go because Lily is a big old sick-o. Just miserable, following me around the house whining, "Mommm-ee, Mommm-ee". But in true Lily style, although she desperately wants comforting, she can't stand to be cuddled. So it is up and down up and down up and down.
My back is KILLING me from sitting on the floor attempting to please both children. I cannot sit on the floor anymore. It flares up this nerve thingy. This is preventing me from doing anything productive...like dishes or vacuuming or organizing...which would also give me a good excuse to ignore the children. So, please, tell me people, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ALL DAY??? Andrew is watching tv. That's all I can do to get him away from me for 5 minutes. Lily is whining beside me right now. Seriously, I don't think anyone but a SAHM can imagine what it is like to not have one single minute without someone asking you a question, getting in your face, undoing every action. Jeff keeps putting the downstairs toilet roll back on, because he doesn't understand that every time I use that toilet, Lily is in there with me, unrolling the paper. I'm sure he thinks I'm a delinquent who can't even put the paper on the roll, much less keep the house clean. But I literally don't even get 5 seconds to pee in peace. I'm fighting with her to keep her hands out of the toilet, stop tearing up the paper, get out from under the sink, what in God's name did you find in the corner...etc etc.
-sigh-
I have not had a conversation with another adult (besides Jeff...and he went to fencing last night, so not even really him) since Saturday. My mother can't even stay on the phone with me for more than 10 minutes because I literally have nothing to talk about. I'm bored AND boring. A lovely thing to be.
-sigh-
Andrew has tired of the tv. He is leading his sister up the steps...probably to make another huge mess that I am incapable of cleaning up without shooting pains that make me cry out loud. Oh, there's Andrew, telling me innocently that Lily is going up the stairs. Even though he led her there.
-sigh-
I really do love being a stay-at-home mom. But do I have to stay at home? Really? I don't think I'm cut out for this.
It is a beautiful sunny day. A bit windy. Okay, pretty crazy windy...our door from the garage into the house blew open, despite the fact both garage doors are closed. That's pretty windy. But sunny and lovely.
My son refuses to leave the house. He loves nothing more than following me around the house all day dumping random toy bins just for the joy of hearing me scream in frustration. He rarely plays with anything for more than 5 minutes on days like today...just shadows me around, getting underfoot, and refusing to do ANYTHING that I suggest. Do you want to paint? No. Do you want to bake cookies? No. He wants to play "neighbor", which we've already played 600 times in the past week. Want to know how to play "Neighbor"? Andrew asks you what your name is. He is always named "Football" or something and Lily is always always his wife Buttercup. Once names are established, Andrew rubs in how his house is nicer than mine. And then he asks me lots of questions. "Do you like jaguars? How many children do you have? Do you have a job?" etc etc. Nothing ever comes of these questions. I suggest we go on a pretend safari to look for jaguars...nope. Just wants to ask pointless questions over and over. I swear he's going to be a sportscaster someday. Anyway, other than play neighbor or dump crap all over the house, Andrew is just underfoot. DRIVES ME CRAZY. I want to get out of the house. But I don't really have anywhere to go or anything to do, so it's not worth the fight to get him into the car. Why fight the epic battle when there's nowhere to go.
Oh, yes, there's nowhere to go because Lily is a big old sick-o. Just miserable, following me around the house whining, "Mommm-ee, Mommm-ee". But in true Lily style, although she desperately wants comforting, she can't stand to be cuddled. So it is up and down up and down up and down.
My back is KILLING me from sitting on the floor attempting to please both children. I cannot sit on the floor anymore. It flares up this nerve thingy. This is preventing me from doing anything productive...like dishes or vacuuming or organizing...which would also give me a good excuse to ignore the children. So, please, tell me people, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ALL DAY??? Andrew is watching tv. That's all I can do to get him away from me for 5 minutes. Lily is whining beside me right now. Seriously, I don't think anyone but a SAHM can imagine what it is like to not have one single minute without someone asking you a question, getting in your face, undoing every action. Jeff keeps putting the downstairs toilet roll back on, because he doesn't understand that every time I use that toilet, Lily is in there with me, unrolling the paper. I'm sure he thinks I'm a delinquent who can't even put the paper on the roll, much less keep the house clean. But I literally don't even get 5 seconds to pee in peace. I'm fighting with her to keep her hands out of the toilet, stop tearing up the paper, get out from under the sink, what in God's name did you find in the corner...etc etc.
-sigh-
I have not had a conversation with another adult (besides Jeff...and he went to fencing last night, so not even really him) since Saturday. My mother can't even stay on the phone with me for more than 10 minutes because I literally have nothing to talk about. I'm bored AND boring. A lovely thing to be.
-sigh-
Andrew has tired of the tv. He is leading his sister up the steps...probably to make another huge mess that I am incapable of cleaning up without shooting pains that make me cry out loud. Oh, there's Andrew, telling me innocently that Lily is going up the stairs. Even though he led her there.
-sigh-
I really do love being a stay-at-home mom. But do I have to stay at home? Really? I don't think I'm cut out for this.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Growing up
Ugh. And Yay! Both describe my feelings about my kids growing up. Mostly yay...because I just love watching them become a real person. I mean, they've always been real people...this isn't a Pinocchio story or something. But a person with their own path, which is only moderately influenced by myself. It's fun.
Lily is very good about saying thank you when you give her something. Andrew hands her a book in the back of the car, I hear, "Tank-choo". Give her a bagel. "Tank-choo". But the last day or two, the response back is something like, "Tank-choo kah-ko." I couldn't figure out what those last two syllables were. Jeff enlightened me last night. He's pretty sure it is "thank you welcome", because we always say you're welcome after she thanks us. How cute is that??? Now if we could only get her to say please. Right now we just get emphatic repeated, "More more more" or "Milk milk milk" or "Up up up" (which is pronounced Buh buh buh). My little chatter box. My POLITE chatter box.
Andrew made me so angry and then so proud the other night. I am finding the 4's more frustrating for myself because when Andrew does something wrong, I KNOW he knows better. So he's just being defiant...not just a clueless, tantruming little kid. One rule he knows is that we don't kick or throw balls unless we're in the toy room. Well, Jeff was on the phone with his parents Sunday night, and was absent-mindedly kicking a soccer ball back and forth with Andrew. In the kitchen. While Lily and I finished dinner. Andrew gave the ball a hard kick, and the ball flew over his chair, smacked me in the face, bounced off Jeff's full milk glass, and spilled cold milk everywhere. Since Jeff was on the phone, he skirted out of the room quickly. Andrew also retreated into another room. Momma Bear was growling (although I didn't yell at Andrew, since he had been kicking a ball with his FATHER...the growling was equally distributed this time around). After feeling a bit overwhelmed by the baby throwing food, milk going EVERYWHERE, I yelled at Jeff to CALL HIS PARENTS BACK AND COME HELP ME. Ah, another reason I'm the favorite in-law...so kind to Jeff in front of his parents. Jeff starts grabbing paper towel and I'm grumbling as I start wiping off everything that was on the table.
Then the most amazing thing happened.
As we are starting clean up, Andrew skulks back into the room and says quietly, "I kicked the ball, so it is my fault." I said, "This is why Mom doesn't want the ball kicked in the kitchen." Andrew says, "Can I help clean up the mess I made?" And then he did. He took paper towels and wiped up the floor and chair legs. I thanked him and said something like, "Andrew, I'm proud of you. This is exactly what you should do when you cause an accident...say you're sorry and offer to help. Good job."
Inside, I was BEAMING. What a decent fellow this little person is becoming. At this point you only get to see it in flashes like this, but it is proof to me that he is a good person who wants to do the right things. And all my anger melted away and I just felt such ooey-gooey love for him.
Now, if he is really smart, he'll take note that his response made Momma Bear stop growling. But I won't hold my breath.
Lily is very good about saying thank you when you give her something. Andrew hands her a book in the back of the car, I hear, "Tank-choo". Give her a bagel. "Tank-choo". But the last day or two, the response back is something like, "Tank-choo kah-ko." I couldn't figure out what those last two syllables were. Jeff enlightened me last night. He's pretty sure it is "thank you welcome", because we always say you're welcome after she thanks us. How cute is that??? Now if we could only get her to say please. Right now we just get emphatic repeated, "More more more" or "Milk milk milk" or "Up up up" (which is pronounced Buh buh buh). My little chatter box. My POLITE chatter box.
Andrew made me so angry and then so proud the other night. I am finding the 4's more frustrating for myself because when Andrew does something wrong, I KNOW he knows better. So he's just being defiant...not just a clueless, tantruming little kid. One rule he knows is that we don't kick or throw balls unless we're in the toy room. Well, Jeff was on the phone with his parents Sunday night, and was absent-mindedly kicking a soccer ball back and forth with Andrew. In the kitchen. While Lily and I finished dinner. Andrew gave the ball a hard kick, and the ball flew over his chair, smacked me in the face, bounced off Jeff's full milk glass, and spilled cold milk everywhere. Since Jeff was on the phone, he skirted out of the room quickly. Andrew also retreated into another room. Momma Bear was growling (although I didn't yell at Andrew, since he had been kicking a ball with his FATHER...the growling was equally distributed this time around). After feeling a bit overwhelmed by the baby throwing food, milk going EVERYWHERE, I yelled at Jeff to CALL HIS PARENTS BACK AND COME HELP ME. Ah, another reason I'm the favorite in-law...so kind to Jeff in front of his parents. Jeff starts grabbing paper towel and I'm grumbling as I start wiping off everything that was on the table.
Then the most amazing thing happened.
As we are starting clean up, Andrew skulks back into the room and says quietly, "I kicked the ball, so it is my fault." I said, "This is why Mom doesn't want the ball kicked in the kitchen." Andrew says, "Can I help clean up the mess I made?" And then he did. He took paper towels and wiped up the floor and chair legs. I thanked him and said something like, "Andrew, I'm proud of you. This is exactly what you should do when you cause an accident...say you're sorry and offer to help. Good job."
Inside, I was BEAMING. What a decent fellow this little person is becoming. At this point you only get to see it in flashes like this, but it is proof to me that he is a good person who wants to do the right things. And all my anger melted away and I just felt such ooey-gooey love for him.
Now, if he is really smart, he'll take note that his response made Momma Bear stop growling. But I won't hold my breath.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Walker
No this isn't a post about Walker, Texas Ranger.
It is about my little girl...who we have decided is officially walking!!! If she was our first child, we probably would've been writing it in her baby book a few weeks ago. But she's not. Heck, I don't even know where her baby book is! She really had to prove herself to us. Poor #3 will probably have to run a relay race before we believe he can really walk.
Lily is not walking everywhere. But she can now stand up anywhere...without the help of a chair, wall, adult, etc. She can walk across a room all by herself...and even change direction if she wants. In just the last couple of days she has been choosing to walk from room to room instead of crawl...so she's officially walking toward places where there is no one to catch her. But if she falls or trips while walking, she usually finishes her trip by crawling.
So there you go. 15 1/2 months. That doesn't sound so bad. I think it just felt like it was taking her forever because there is this impending deadline in April. Like, she needs to be grown up by the time the new baby comes. Which is totally unfair. I'll have to start watching myself...don't want her to grow up too fast. ;)
It is about my little girl...who we have decided is officially walking!!! If she was our first child, we probably would've been writing it in her baby book a few weeks ago. But she's not. Heck, I don't even know where her baby book is! She really had to prove herself to us. Poor #3 will probably have to run a relay race before we believe he can really walk.
Lily is not walking everywhere. But she can now stand up anywhere...without the help of a chair, wall, adult, etc. She can walk across a room all by herself...and even change direction if she wants. In just the last couple of days she has been choosing to walk from room to room instead of crawl...so she's officially walking toward places where there is no one to catch her. But if she falls or trips while walking, she usually finishes her trip by crawling.
So there you go. 15 1/2 months. That doesn't sound so bad. I think it just felt like it was taking her forever because there is this impending deadline in April. Like, she needs to be grown up by the time the new baby comes. Which is totally unfair. I'll have to start watching myself...don't want her to grow up too fast. ;)
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Pssssst. I think I might be pregnant.
Just want to mention that yesterday's post was meant to make fun of my husband. He reads this blog from time to time, and a little fun-making is part of what makes this relationship tick. He is WONDERFUL help at night time and in the morning...I just have to really work to wake him up enough that he understands I need help. So I make fun of him about it. Got it? Love him. And love to poke fun. I'm really just jealous that I can't sleep through anything.
And on to today's post. I am offically 29 weeks today, people. 29 weeks. Um...I think that means the baby will be coming soon. I am still in such denial. I've been living in the 2nd trimester fog of loveliness, where my body is no longer rejecting the pregnancy hormones, and the baby is not yet large enough to make my body unhappy. It's a lovely time. Still looking cute...little round belly so everyone knows you're pregnant. Plenty of time to worry about minor details like baby gear, etc. Lovely.
But sometime soon...like maybe right around now...I will pass into the 3rd trimester. The honeymoon's over. Lately I am feeling really really pregnant. Suddenly my body is like, "Hey! Dude! That's my bladder. Seriously. I can't breathe. My back muscles don't actually bend like that." and baby and body fight an epic battle until finally my body is victorious and manages to regain its autonomy. I'll start looking not-so-cute...kind of passing into the grotesque category...you know the one...when people start saying assinine things like, "You still have HOW LONG to go?" or "Are you SURE its not twins?" And the nesting...enough to drive my husband crazy. Although, do you think it is crazy to be nervous that we haven't got the room configuration quite figured out or a car quite picked out and there isn't really a plan in place as to WHEN we will do these things? I just think it will be a bad idea to pull into the car dealership and say, "Yea, um, I'm like 5 centimeters dilated and we need a car to bring the baby home from the hospital in. Can ya help?"
And in case anyone is interested, I've found the first problem with having children close together. When I was this pregnant and I had an almost 3 year old, I simply stopped carrying him around, made him climb in and out of his carseat by himself, played games while sitting on the couch to avoid the floor, etc etc. Can't do that with a 1 year old. It's HARD taking care of a baby when you are all filled up with baby. Phew. Tires me out just thinking about it.
Ah...it feels so good to get a little whining out. I actually don't mind this part of pregnancy too much...I'm lucky to be tall so there is plenty of room for baby. And I am so grateful that I have no worries of preterm labor, etc etc. It is a blessing to have a big ole' baby at the end of all this. But I used to wish I could be pregnant until next fall so I could have a 2 year spacing between Lily and this baby. Now I'm thinking 17 months apart might not be so bad. ;)
And on to today's post. I am offically 29 weeks today, people. 29 weeks. Um...I think that means the baby will be coming soon. I am still in such denial. I've been living in the 2nd trimester fog of loveliness, where my body is no longer rejecting the pregnancy hormones, and the baby is not yet large enough to make my body unhappy. It's a lovely time. Still looking cute...little round belly so everyone knows you're pregnant. Plenty of time to worry about minor details like baby gear, etc. Lovely.
But sometime soon...like maybe right around now...I will pass into the 3rd trimester. The honeymoon's over. Lately I am feeling really really pregnant. Suddenly my body is like, "Hey! Dude! That's my bladder. Seriously. I can't breathe. My back muscles don't actually bend like that." and baby and body fight an epic battle until finally my body is victorious and manages to regain its autonomy. I'll start looking not-so-cute...kind of passing into the grotesque category...you know the one...when people start saying assinine things like, "You still have HOW LONG to go?" or "Are you SURE its not twins?" And the nesting...enough to drive my husband crazy. Although, do you think it is crazy to be nervous that we haven't got the room configuration quite figured out or a car quite picked out and there isn't really a plan in place as to WHEN we will do these things? I just think it will be a bad idea to pull into the car dealership and say, "Yea, um, I'm like 5 centimeters dilated and we need a car to bring the baby home from the hospital in. Can ya help?"
And in case anyone is interested, I've found the first problem with having children close together. When I was this pregnant and I had an almost 3 year old, I simply stopped carrying him around, made him climb in and out of his carseat by himself, played games while sitting on the couch to avoid the floor, etc etc. Can't do that with a 1 year old. It's HARD taking care of a baby when you are all filled up with baby. Phew. Tires me out just thinking about it.
Ah...it feels so good to get a little whining out. I actually don't mind this part of pregnancy too much...I'm lucky to be tall so there is plenty of room for baby. And I am so grateful that I have no worries of preterm labor, etc etc. It is a blessing to have a big ole' baby at the end of all this. But I used to wish I could be pregnant until next fall so I could have a 2 year spacing between Lily and this baby. Now I'm thinking 17 months apart might not be so bad. ;)
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Supportive
I woke up around 1 am to the sound of my son screaming, "Moooooomy. Mom. Mom. Moooooooom!!!!" I bolt out of bed (it is very unusual for Andrew to wake up at all during the night). I don't remember that I'm pregnant, because in my dreams, I never am, otherwise I would never jump out of bed. I am frozen by a shooting pain in my hip/femur/whatever and screech a little in shock. Jeff throws his covers off. I recover and limp down the hall to Andrew's bedroom. The big emergency was he had no covers. Must be nice to have a servant at your beck and call to wake when you need the covers pulled up. I limp back to my bedroom and take a bathroom break. I gingerly climb back into bed, and Jeff pulls the covers back over himself. Phew! That exhausting bit of child rearing is over for the night.
Gee. Thanks, Jeff. I'm glad that you uncovered yourself in solidarity with me. Very supportive.
***Jeff has no recollection of this, of course. The man can sleep through an earthquake. Literally. We've tested it out in California.
Gee. Thanks, Jeff. I'm glad that you uncovered yourself in solidarity with me. Very supportive.
***Jeff has no recollection of this, of course. The man can sleep through an earthquake. Literally. We've tested it out in California.
Friday, January 25, 2008
No complaints
What?, you say. How could an entry on Giselle's blog possibly be called, "No complaints." Something must be wrong...seriously wrong.
But not really. I just had playgroup at my house...with 6 women and their collective 9 children. And I feel the need to appreciate these women even though they do not read this blog.
I know I complain a lot. I complain about being lonely, about living far from family, about having a hard time meeting and making friends. And I honestly feel those things almost daily. But when I get together with these 6 ladies, I realize that I'm very blessed with friendships...we just don't get enough time together to make me truly happy.
The MOMS club is full of women that I have nothing in common with and who do rude things like not call to tell me they aren't coming over to my house. But somehow, I was placed in a weekly playgroup full of these uncomplicated, friendly, funny ladies. They are the ones I went to NYC with last July. They are the ones who amazingly put aside their differences, aren't catty, are amazingly supportive, and seriously funny.
So I'm putting it down in writing. Don't listen to me complain about not making friends here in PA. I DO have wonderful friends here. I just need to be able to get together with them more often to remind me of it. If only they didn't have family around or if only we didn't have these children that needed to take naps and be taken to school and other such nonsense.
Okay, I must go pay attention to my 4 year old. Enjoy your day, and be ready for more complaining with my next entry. (have I mentioned how PREGNANT I am all of a sudden?)
But not really. I just had playgroup at my house...with 6 women and their collective 9 children. And I feel the need to appreciate these women even though they do not read this blog.
I know I complain a lot. I complain about being lonely, about living far from family, about having a hard time meeting and making friends. And I honestly feel those things almost daily. But when I get together with these 6 ladies, I realize that I'm very blessed with friendships...we just don't get enough time together to make me truly happy.
The MOMS club is full of women that I have nothing in common with and who do rude things like not call to tell me they aren't coming over to my house. But somehow, I was placed in a weekly playgroup full of these uncomplicated, friendly, funny ladies. They are the ones I went to NYC with last July. They are the ones who amazingly put aside their differences, aren't catty, are amazingly supportive, and seriously funny.
So I'm putting it down in writing. Don't listen to me complain about not making friends here in PA. I DO have wonderful friends here. I just need to be able to get together with them more often to remind me of it. If only they didn't have family around or if only we didn't have these children that needed to take naps and be taken to school and other such nonsense.
Okay, I must go pay attention to my 4 year old. Enjoy your day, and be ready for more complaining with my next entry. (have I mentioned how PREGNANT I am all of a sudden?)
Thursday, January 24, 2008
A hint?
I got an issue of Parenting magazine in the mail yesterday. Addressed to me and everything. I have no idea who signed me up for this subscription. But I'm thinking it may be a hint. Like somebody is watching me thinking, "Dear Lord, Giselle doesn't know what she's doing. Perhaps if I send her Parenting magazine for a year she'll get a clue." Pretty sly.
I read through it. I had Parenting magazine for about a year after Andrew was born. It's not a terrible magazine...but sometimes the articles are a little bit no-brainer, promising to be interesting and exciting and then usually falling way short. Like this month there is an article about surprise pregnancies. I eagerly flipped to it to read other people's stories and the article basically said surprise pregnancies are common because a) people think it's going to take longer than it does b)birth control is not 100% effective or c) one person is not quite on board with having another child and has gotten in a bit over their head. Gee, thanks Parenting magazine. That was enlightening.
Oh, and I HATE the section, "It Worked For Me!". It should be renamed, "I'm a Better Mother Than You, And Here's Why...You Slacker!" It has little "helpful" tips from other mothers. Some of which are actually helpful (one mother put a strip of magnetic tape in a cabinet and attached her nail clippers, etc to keep them out of reach) and others are just blatant super moms writing in to brag about themselves. Something like, "I recycle all of our paper waste by cutting it into sticker size pieces and let the children decorate boxes. Then I take all of our food waste and make it into an animal-friendly granola that we fill the biodegradable boxes with. We then take a family hike with our feeding boxes into the wilderness, and set it put to feed the animals in the winter. This way, I have no trash anymore, my children are practicing their fine motor skills, we are getting plenty of exercise to help fight childhood obesity, and my children are learning to care for others less fortunate than themselves. And we do all this by candlelight with our thermostat set at 55 degree so we help the environment as well." You know, a story like that. Very realistic and helpful.
Anyhoo, thank you to whomever has sent me this magazine. I will probably not learn anything from it (once a lousy mother....always a lousy mother, I always say), but I do enjoy flipping through the pages. Except for that last section. I hate that section. ;)
I read through it. I had Parenting magazine for about a year after Andrew was born. It's not a terrible magazine...but sometimes the articles are a little bit no-brainer, promising to be interesting and exciting and then usually falling way short. Like this month there is an article about surprise pregnancies. I eagerly flipped to it to read other people's stories and the article basically said surprise pregnancies are common because a) people think it's going to take longer than it does b)birth control is not 100% effective or c) one person is not quite on board with having another child and has gotten in a bit over their head. Gee, thanks Parenting magazine. That was enlightening.
Oh, and I HATE the section, "It Worked For Me!". It should be renamed, "I'm a Better Mother Than You, And Here's Why...You Slacker!" It has little "helpful" tips from other mothers. Some of which are actually helpful (one mother put a strip of magnetic tape in a cabinet and attached her nail clippers, etc to keep them out of reach) and others are just blatant super moms writing in to brag about themselves. Something like, "I recycle all of our paper waste by cutting it into sticker size pieces and let the children decorate boxes. Then I take all of our food waste and make it into an animal-friendly granola that we fill the biodegradable boxes with. We then take a family hike with our feeding boxes into the wilderness, and set it put to feed the animals in the winter. This way, I have no trash anymore, my children are practicing their fine motor skills, we are getting plenty of exercise to help fight childhood obesity, and my children are learning to care for others less fortunate than themselves. And we do all this by candlelight with our thermostat set at 55 degree so we help the environment as well." You know, a story like that. Very realistic and helpful.
Anyhoo, thank you to whomever has sent me this magazine. I will probably not learn anything from it (once a lousy mother....always a lousy mother, I always say), but I do enjoy flipping through the pages. Except for that last section. I hate that section. ;)
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
"There are no secrets from a 4 year old"
We went to the grocery this morning. At 8:30 am. Love the shopping early in the morning. Very few people for Andrew to stop and chat with, so we get through much quicker. But once we get to the checkout line, he has a lot to say, because he hasn't gotten any of it out of his system. Who am I kidding? Andrew could talk all day and still not be tired of it. Jeff is home for 15 minutes, and he starts making little comments like, "Do you EVER stop, Andrew?" Which makes me happy, because it helps him understand why I am so desperate for him to get home every evening.
Anyhoo, here's the conversation with the checker this morning. This is a typical conversation for Andrew. Probably not for the checker.
The instant we pull into the line, Andrew approaches the checker. I literally have put one thing on the conveyor belt.
Andrew-"Hi! I'm Andrew. I'm 4."
Checker-"Hi, Andrew." (this is a big mistake. by acknowledging Andrew, the floodgates have been opened...poor unknowing checker).
A-"My mom is pregnant. She is 30 and so is my dad. She has a boy baby in her tummy. We know cause the doctor checked."
C-"The doctor checked, huh."
A-"Yea, he checked and he saw a PENIS."
C-chuckles uncomfortably. He probably doesn't hear the word penis at work much.
A-"There are no secrets from a 4 year old." (this is what I say to ease tension when Andrew tells uncomfortable details about our life to complete strangers. He has taken to repeating it when people laugh nervously about something he has said.)
At this point, the 60-something woman in line behind me starts chuckling. She coos at Lily, asking her name, telling her she's a smart little girl. Andrew's radar goes off...Lily is getting more attention than him...he must sweep in and take over.
A-"Hi! My name is Andrew. I'm 4."
Woman-"Yes, I know. I heard. I have a grandson named Andrew. It's a very nice name. Is this your little sister?"
A-"Yes, her name is Lily. My mom is pregnant."
W-"Your mom has a present?"
A-(yelling now)"No, she's PREG-NANT."
W-"Oh, she's having another baby. How lucky that you get to be the biggest brother."
And on and on and on.
Sometimes we luck out, and the checker has on a football jersey or something else that interests Andrew. Then we can avoid the reproduction conversations and how many bowel movements we've had that day.
There is no such thing as a quick errand with my little chatter box. Just when I think he's so much like his dad, he shows this super social side. I guess I had a little input in him after all.
Anyhoo, here's the conversation with the checker this morning. This is a typical conversation for Andrew. Probably not for the checker.
The instant we pull into the line, Andrew approaches the checker. I literally have put one thing on the conveyor belt.
Andrew-"Hi! I'm Andrew. I'm 4."
Checker-"Hi, Andrew." (this is a big mistake. by acknowledging Andrew, the floodgates have been opened...poor unknowing checker).
A-"My mom is pregnant. She is 30 and so is my dad. She has a boy baby in her tummy. We know cause the doctor checked."
C-"The doctor checked, huh."
A-"Yea, he checked and he saw a PENIS."
C-chuckles uncomfortably. He probably doesn't hear the word penis at work much.
A-"There are no secrets from a 4 year old." (this is what I say to ease tension when Andrew tells uncomfortable details about our life to complete strangers. He has taken to repeating it when people laugh nervously about something he has said.)
At this point, the 60-something woman in line behind me starts chuckling. She coos at Lily, asking her name, telling her she's a smart little girl. Andrew's radar goes off...Lily is getting more attention than him...he must sweep in and take over.
A-"Hi! My name is Andrew. I'm 4."
Woman-"Yes, I know. I heard. I have a grandson named Andrew. It's a very nice name. Is this your little sister?"
A-"Yes, her name is Lily. My mom is pregnant."
W-"Your mom has a present?"
A-(yelling now)"No, she's PREG-NANT."
W-"Oh, she's having another baby. How lucky that you get to be the biggest brother."
And on and on and on.
Sometimes we luck out, and the checker has on a football jersey or something else that interests Andrew. Then we can avoid the reproduction conversations and how many bowel movements we've had that day.
There is no such thing as a quick errand with my little chatter box. Just when I think he's so much like his dad, he shows this super social side. I guess I had a little input in him after all.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Andrew's first date
Over the Christmas holiday, Jeff and I took advantage of having free babysitters and had two, count them, 2 date nights. Andrew was quite insulted that we would go on 2 dates, considering he has never even been on one date his entire life.
So on Saturday, Andrew and I went on a date. He was sooooooo excited. I made the mistake of telling him the day before, so every 15 minutes Saturday morning, he asked when we were going on our date. I explained that this type of over-eagerness will scare away the girls someday. But finally we left to go to a movie. Andrew has never been to a movie, so it was a big first for him that way as well. He talked my ear off on the car ride to the theatre (not that he needs a date in order to do that). He kept talking about us having special time together. Cute. He held my hand as we waited to buy tickets. We bought candy and pop...his choice. And we watched a movie funny enough that we both laughed out loud many times throughout. Of course, after 10 minutes, he was whining to leave...but then another funny part would come and we'd laugh...and then the whining. He needs to work on his style before he starts dating for real.
Then this morning, we had our first playdate with Andrew's best friend Matthew-from-school. Matthew kind of ignored Andrew as he spent the entire time exploring all of Andrew's toys. Andrew kept trying to engage him in this game or that, but Matthew was busy. Finally, Andrew colored at the kitchen table by himself. Perhaps next time Matthew will be more used to our toys and will actually play with Andrew. ;) But there was no love lost, the boys hugged like crazy at departure. And Matthew's mom and I had a good time chatting and watching our baby girls play (they will be in the same grade in school someday...maybe they'll be friends too?).
All in all, Andrew's had a couple of nice special days fit in here. And the best thing about having 2 kids is, when Andrew's on a date with me...Lily is effectively on a date with her Daddy. She and Jeff played and read books and went on a nice long stroll in the freezing weather. It'll be a while before she gets to go to a movie. ;)
So on Saturday, Andrew and I went on a date. He was sooooooo excited. I made the mistake of telling him the day before, so every 15 minutes Saturday morning, he asked when we were going on our date. I explained that this type of over-eagerness will scare away the girls someday. But finally we left to go to a movie. Andrew has never been to a movie, so it was a big first for him that way as well. He talked my ear off on the car ride to the theatre (not that he needs a date in order to do that). He kept talking about us having special time together. Cute. He held my hand as we waited to buy tickets. We bought candy and pop...his choice. And we watched a movie funny enough that we both laughed out loud many times throughout. Of course, after 10 minutes, he was whining to leave...but then another funny part would come and we'd laugh...and then the whining. He needs to work on his style before he starts dating for real.
Then this morning, we had our first playdate with Andrew's best friend Matthew-from-school. Matthew kind of ignored Andrew as he spent the entire time exploring all of Andrew's toys. Andrew kept trying to engage him in this game or that, but Matthew was busy. Finally, Andrew colored at the kitchen table by himself. Perhaps next time Matthew will be more used to our toys and will actually play with Andrew. ;) But there was no love lost, the boys hugged like crazy at departure. And Matthew's mom and I had a good time chatting and watching our baby girls play (they will be in the same grade in school someday...maybe they'll be friends too?).
All in all, Andrew's had a couple of nice special days fit in here. And the best thing about having 2 kids is, when Andrew's on a date with me...Lily is effectively on a date with her Daddy. She and Jeff played and read books and went on a nice long stroll in the freezing weather. It'll be a while before she gets to go to a movie. ;)
Friday, January 18, 2008
Rude
I am a member of the local MOMS club organization here in PA. A reluctant member. I really like meeting other moms...but I had such a good experience in KY, it just hasn't quite matched up here. Let's take social outings without kids, for example. I think I had something just for me 3 Thursdays a month. It was lovely. Refreshing. Made me less resentful about Jeff's fencing. Gave me a chance to really get to know the ladies. -sigh- Here, there is maybe one event A MONTH. And people don't show up to it. It's not entirely their fault. Husbands commute really far to work (one woman's husband commutes to New York City...almost 2 hours away!), so they aren't able to make it early enough to be worth it.
Getting to the point. I offered to have a game night at my house last night for the monthly Mom's Night Out. I don't often offer up my house, because a) I'm self-conscious about my lack of decorating b) I'm not a very good housekeeper c) there is no where for my husband to hide away in this house, and I feel bad for him d) I'm just not a very good hostess.
But I offered, because I feel everyone should take a turn (not that everyone does...frustrating...but I still feel this way). I got 9 YES responses and 5 maybes. Wow! Cool turnout, especially for this club. I cleaned for 2 days, straining my back and neglecting my children. I spent a lot of money on fun little party foods so I wouldn't have to cook AND clean (let's not be ridiculous). I went to our back basement and dug out an unopened box and found the few large group games that we own.
And then it snowed. Just an inch, but the roads looked slippery. I didn't know if I should cancel, but I am quite the wuss about snow, so I didn't. It was just an inch. And by 6:30 (party started at 7), no one had called, so I figured I was overreacting.
One lady came. At 7:30. 3 others called to say they weren't coming (one of them was a maybe anyway). That means 5 "yes"es and 4 "maybe"s didn't say a word...and didn't show up. I had coffee made, desserts spread out, lemon cut for the water...and not even the courtesy of a phone call or an e-mail to say they wouldn't be coming after all.
ARGHHHH. This is just plain RUDE to me. Maybe it was obvious because of the inch of snow. But even if it was OBVIOUS, don't you think you should call the hostess to let her know you aren't coming?
-sigh- It's things like this that make me feel lonely. It's hard making good friends, don't you think?
Getting to the point. I offered to have a game night at my house last night for the monthly Mom's Night Out. I don't often offer up my house, because a) I'm self-conscious about my lack of decorating b) I'm not a very good housekeeper c) there is no where for my husband to hide away in this house, and I feel bad for him d) I'm just not a very good hostess.
But I offered, because I feel everyone should take a turn (not that everyone does...frustrating...but I still feel this way). I got 9 YES responses and 5 maybes. Wow! Cool turnout, especially for this club. I cleaned for 2 days, straining my back and neglecting my children. I spent a lot of money on fun little party foods so I wouldn't have to cook AND clean (let's not be ridiculous). I went to our back basement and dug out an unopened box and found the few large group games that we own.
And then it snowed. Just an inch, but the roads looked slippery. I didn't know if I should cancel, but I am quite the wuss about snow, so I didn't. It was just an inch. And by 6:30 (party started at 7), no one had called, so I figured I was overreacting.
One lady came. At 7:30. 3 others called to say they weren't coming (one of them was a maybe anyway). That means 5 "yes"es and 4 "maybe"s didn't say a word...and didn't show up. I had coffee made, desserts spread out, lemon cut for the water...and not even the courtesy of a phone call or an e-mail to say they wouldn't be coming after all.
ARGHHHH. This is just plain RUDE to me. Maybe it was obvious because of the inch of snow. But even if it was OBVIOUS, don't you think you should call the hostess to let her know you aren't coming?
-sigh- It's things like this that make me feel lonely. It's hard making good friends, don't you think?
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
A dolphin has one nostril
A few funny Andrew stories:
When Jeff got home tonight, Shadow brought him a ball. She always searches the house frantically for some kind of offering to give him when he comes home. Tonight, he was lucky enough to receive a tennis ball. So we all sat on the playroom floor and took turns throwing the ball for her. Everyone loves this game...except maybe Shadow. She's a little intimidated bringing the ball back to the horde of screaming children. Okay, so it's only 2 children. But she's a 12 pound dog...give her a break. In the middle of throwing the ball and coaxing Shadow back, Andrew says, "Guys. Hey guys! A dolphin has one nostril." And back to the game. It was such a random comment, Jeff and I were laughing really hard. Andrew didn't understand what was so funny. He just needed to let us know. For some unknown reason.
Also, Monday at the grocery we passed a man stocking the freezers wearing a Minnesota Vikings Jacket. Andrew stopped and said, "Hey! You like the Vikings, don't you? We like the Eagles." The man politely chuckles and replies, "Well, I like the Eagles too, but the Vikings have a better looking jacket." Another stocker pipes in, "But we were rooting for the Giants last weekend." Andrew says, "Oh, yea, they beat the Cowboys. And next weekend the Giants are playing the Green Bay Packers. I'm rooting for the Packers to win." You could almost hear their jaws hit the floor and then they started saying, "Oh my gosh...he really knows his stuff, etc etc." I just chuckled as we walked away down the aisle. My little football weirdo...impressing grown men.
And so she doesn't feel left out...Lily has grown OBSESSED with her books. And I've grown spoiled. Andrew's books have actual stories. Lily's books are just pages with random crap labeled throughout. They are BORING. And she loves them. -sigh- She literally wakes up and we hear her saying, "Boo! Boo!" When you open the door to her room, she is standing up frantically pointing at the pile of books on her floor (someday we will get her a bookshelf...maybe). And she definitely knows which one she wants to read. She will swat away the wrong book and say loudly, NO! This is a woman with a mind of her own, I tell you.
When Jeff got home tonight, Shadow brought him a ball. She always searches the house frantically for some kind of offering to give him when he comes home. Tonight, he was lucky enough to receive a tennis ball. So we all sat on the playroom floor and took turns throwing the ball for her. Everyone loves this game...except maybe Shadow. She's a little intimidated bringing the ball back to the horde of screaming children. Okay, so it's only 2 children. But she's a 12 pound dog...give her a break. In the middle of throwing the ball and coaxing Shadow back, Andrew says, "Guys. Hey guys! A dolphin has one nostril." And back to the game. It was such a random comment, Jeff and I were laughing really hard. Andrew didn't understand what was so funny. He just needed to let us know. For some unknown reason.
Also, Monday at the grocery we passed a man stocking the freezers wearing a Minnesota Vikings Jacket. Andrew stopped and said, "Hey! You like the Vikings, don't you? We like the Eagles." The man politely chuckles and replies, "Well, I like the Eagles too, but the Vikings have a better looking jacket." Another stocker pipes in, "But we were rooting for the Giants last weekend." Andrew says, "Oh, yea, they beat the Cowboys. And next weekend the Giants are playing the Green Bay Packers. I'm rooting for the Packers to win." You could almost hear their jaws hit the floor and then they started saying, "Oh my gosh...he really knows his stuff, etc etc." I just chuckled as we walked away down the aisle. My little football weirdo...impressing grown men.
And so she doesn't feel left out...Lily has grown OBSESSED with her books. And I've grown spoiled. Andrew's books have actual stories. Lily's books are just pages with random crap labeled throughout. They are BORING. And she loves them. -sigh- She literally wakes up and we hear her saying, "Boo! Boo!" When you open the door to her room, she is standing up frantically pointing at the pile of books on her floor (someday we will get her a bookshelf...maybe). And she definitely knows which one she wants to read. She will swat away the wrong book and say loudly, NO! This is a woman with a mind of her own, I tell you.
Monday, January 14, 2008
There will be light...
Since I found out about Baby #3, I've been dreading summer 2008. I felt bad for Andrew especially, because there would be no pool, no Sesame Place, nothing. Just Mama, baby sister, and baby brother taking naps, watching TV, desperately trying to make the days pass. I just couldn't fathom how the 3 of us would do anything fun.
But today I signed Andrew up for summer camp. It is for 6 weeks this summer, and gives me great hope for him. A fellow mother told me about it last Friday, and I've been feeling a bit lighter around the shoulders ever since. 3 weeks of nothingness after his school ends. 6 weeks of camp. Then vacation with my folks. And 3 more weeks of nothingness until school starts again. I'm not worried about 3 weeks of nothingness at a time. Even lame-o me can entertain a kid that long. While he's at camp, he'll be running around with new friends, doing arts and crafts that Mommy will have no energy to do, and making memories that will exceed the "found another bug in the backyard" that I had planned for this summer. And while he's at camp, perhaps I will be able to spend some quality one-on-one time with my darling daughter. More likely, it will just give me time to teach her all about "time-outs" and other fun 2 year old discipline prep, but whatever.
-sigh- I had no idea how much I was worried about June, July, and August, until I found this little something for us to do. Maybe I could even take the babies for a walk while he's there in the morning! Oh! The possibilities are endless!
But today I signed Andrew up for summer camp. It is for 6 weeks this summer, and gives me great hope for him. A fellow mother told me about it last Friday, and I've been feeling a bit lighter around the shoulders ever since. 3 weeks of nothingness after his school ends. 6 weeks of camp. Then vacation with my folks. And 3 more weeks of nothingness until school starts again. I'm not worried about 3 weeks of nothingness at a time. Even lame-o me can entertain a kid that long. While he's at camp, he'll be running around with new friends, doing arts and crafts that Mommy will have no energy to do, and making memories that will exceed the "found another bug in the backyard" that I had planned for this summer. And while he's at camp, perhaps I will be able to spend some quality one-on-one time with my darling daughter. More likely, it will just give me time to teach her all about "time-outs" and other fun 2 year old discipline prep, but whatever.
-sigh- I had no idea how much I was worried about June, July, and August, until I found this little something for us to do. Maybe I could even take the babies for a walk while he's there in the morning! Oh! The possibilities are endless!
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Family date day!
Jeff and I really want to take the kids places this winter. This is because a) both of them really enjoy it now; b) in a few months we will be taking a hiatus from going ANYWHERE but the grocery; and c) Andrew has made me realize that going to new places really makes an impression on him. Our computer is set up so the screen saver just pulls random pictures from our memory. This is enjoyable for all, and we find ourselves sitting in front of the computer saying, "Oh! There's Andrew at 3 weeks old! And now! There's Lily learning to roll over! Hey! There's our old dog Ginger." And on and on in a strange time warp-ish experience. The other day we were watching the slide show and there was a picture of Andrew sitting on a public bench in July '07. I'm wracking my brain trying to think where in the world we were...I'm sure we weren't on vacation. Andrew pipes in, "That's when we went to the museum with dinosaur bones, Mom." He's right. Amazing, that kid's memory.
Anyhoo, we decided to visit the zoo again today. I don't know why. We've been there once last April, but Lily didn't get much out of it. So after her morning nap, we got all packed up and drove there.
Holy, cow, it was fun! Andrew loved it, as he always does. It was a pleasant day (sunny, no wind, upper 40's) and not crowded at all. Lily was a BLAST. She was frantically pointing to show us everything. Her new word as of yesterday is, "duck", so she was especially excited to see the ducks. We paid $50 for her to see a duck. Good going. Also cute, at the cat house it was a small enough crowd that we could put her right up to the glass and let her stand. A female lion was lounging up against the same glass, so Lily was inches from this HUGE wildcat. And she kept pointing and saying, "Meow! Meow!" Gotta teach her to roar...it was so cute. She also (and we also) enjoyed the primate house. The lemurs were bouncing around like crazy, wrestling and leaping.
Anyway, it was great to take the kids somewhere that they both enjoy so much. So we got a season's pass. We are such sucker's. We only have to visit one more time by December 2008 to pay it off. How could we not? And Jeff was super cute. You had to indicate how many children on the pass...and he picked 3. Even though children under 2 are free anyway. And you had to put the names of the children down. He put down the name we've picked for #3. Not that he needed to...he's just excited about it, I think. Cute, eh? I guess we're really committed to this name now. ;) And it breaks one of our rules...how will I cope?!?
Nice day. Nice fun family day. Let's hope that #3 turns out as nerdy as the rest of us, so he'll enjoy just standing and admiring the animals like everyone else!
Anyhoo, we decided to visit the zoo again today. I don't know why. We've been there once last April, but Lily didn't get much out of it. So after her morning nap, we got all packed up and drove there.
Holy, cow, it was fun! Andrew loved it, as he always does. It was a pleasant day (sunny, no wind, upper 40's) and not crowded at all. Lily was a BLAST. She was frantically pointing to show us everything. Her new word as of yesterday is, "duck", so she was especially excited to see the ducks. We paid $50 for her to see a duck. Good going. Also cute, at the cat house it was a small enough crowd that we could put her right up to the glass and let her stand. A female lion was lounging up against the same glass, so Lily was inches from this HUGE wildcat. And she kept pointing and saying, "Meow! Meow!" Gotta teach her to roar...it was so cute. She also (and we also) enjoyed the primate house. The lemurs were bouncing around like crazy, wrestling and leaping.
Anyway, it was great to take the kids somewhere that they both enjoy so much. So we got a season's pass. We are such sucker's. We only have to visit one more time by December 2008 to pay it off. How could we not? And Jeff was super cute. You had to indicate how many children on the pass...and he picked 3. Even though children under 2 are free anyway. And you had to put the names of the children down. He put down the name we've picked for #3. Not that he needed to...he's just excited about it, I think. Cute, eh? I guess we're really committed to this name now. ;) And it breaks one of our rules...how will I cope?!?
Nice day. Nice fun family day. Let's hope that #3 turns out as nerdy as the rest of us, so he'll enjoy just standing and admiring the animals like everyone else!
Friday, January 11, 2008
26 weeks... or is it 27?
Um, I'm kind of having a hard time remembering how pregnant I am. I THINK I'll be 27 weeks Sunday. Yea...or is it 28 weeks Sunday. Whatever.
Went to my doctor last night. Passed the friggin' glucose test with FLYING COLORS. Midwife showed me the numbers and I was literally 50 points below the minimum danger numbers for each of the 4 blood draws. Take that, stupid policy. She did concede with a, "Well, I guess you were right. You just make big boy babies, no gestational diabetes involved." If only she would have agreed to meet Andrew in person. She'd see he is STILL a big boy. -sigh- What we do so doctor's can cover their asses.
Baby #3 was moving and shakin' through the whole appointment. His heartrate was in the 160s. The nurse was like, "So she's really busy in their." Assuming, because of stupid wives' tales, that a high heart rate means a girl. I smugly explained that I have a very busy BOY inside, and that my other boy did indeed have a lower heart rate (usually in the 140s), but that my little girl gets the award for the LOWEST heart rates (usually in the the 130s). So there. I break all wives' tales.
Also, why do they ask me at every appointment what birth control I plan to use, if any, after the baby is born? I'm not even in the 3rd trimester yet. Does it matter yet? They also asked me if I plan on breastfeeding. Um, don't we have 3 months to go? Why are you freaking me out needlessly? -sigh-
Boy, this post is full of pent up rage at the staff of my OB's office. It's a shame, because I actually like it there. Must just be grouchy today. ;) Lucky kids.
Went to my doctor last night. Passed the friggin' glucose test with FLYING COLORS. Midwife showed me the numbers and I was literally 50 points below the minimum danger numbers for each of the 4 blood draws. Take that, stupid policy. She did concede with a, "Well, I guess you were right. You just make big boy babies, no gestational diabetes involved." If only she would have agreed to meet Andrew in person. She'd see he is STILL a big boy. -sigh- What we do so doctor's can cover their asses.
Baby #3 was moving and shakin' through the whole appointment. His heartrate was in the 160s. The nurse was like, "So she's really busy in their." Assuming, because of stupid wives' tales, that a high heart rate means a girl. I smugly explained that I have a very busy BOY inside, and that my other boy did indeed have a lower heart rate (usually in the 140s), but that my little girl gets the award for the LOWEST heart rates (usually in the the 130s). So there. I break all wives' tales.
Also, why do they ask me at every appointment what birth control I plan to use, if any, after the baby is born? I'm not even in the 3rd trimester yet. Does it matter yet? They also asked me if I plan on breastfeeding. Um, don't we have 3 months to go? Why are you freaking me out needlessly? -sigh-
Boy, this post is full of pent up rage at the staff of my OB's office. It's a shame, because I actually like it there. Must just be grouchy today. ;) Lucky kids.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
15 months
My Lillian is 15 months old now??? How did this happen???
I took her to the doctor today. The wait was ridiculous, but she was entertained by the books and toys I brought. While distracting her, I discovered that she has broken a molar through on the top. No wonder she hasn't been eating lately!!! And, phew, glad I noticed before the doctor told me and I looked shocked. I'm a slacker of a parent enough without missing something big like that. ;)
Because Lily is the 2nd child, I forgot to write down what her weight and height were. Loser. But I partly blame Lily because she is so darn wiggly and curious, there's no way I could've written it down anyway. Her percentiles are the same as last time, 50th for weight and 75th for height...I think she was around 23 pounds and 30 inches tall. Actually, I'm sure she was 23 pounds. Height...not so sure.
The doctor saw her sitting in her "W" stance (knees bent, feet backward), and immediately guessed she wasn't walking. Apparently, children who sit like that have poor muscle tone and are usually delayed walkers. Interesting. She was going to recommend intervention/PT, but when she saw the strides that Lily has been making in walking on her own, she held off. I am to watch her, and if she stops progressing with her walking, then I am to call and get her some extra therapy. So we'll see. I'm definitely not opposed to therapy...but she HAS made great strides lately (no pun intended). She can take about 3 steps independently now.
To balance out the physical delays, the doctor was noticeably impressed by Lily's verbal skills at 15 months. And for once, Lily actually showed some of them off. She was reading a book as I talked to the doctor and said, "Touchdown" (complete with arm motion) when she saw a football, meow-ed when she saw a cat, pointed at everything, etc etc. So that made a mama proud. Apparently her ability to follow directions and understand is ahead of the game. Whatever. I wouldn't know, since I don't read parenting books anymore. Just don't tell me if it is totally normal. ;) I prefer thinking my child is a genius.
Otherwise, Lily is healthy as can be! Despite living on dairy products and Cheerios, she is growing and healthy. She had to get 4 shots (poor baby), and her screams brought notice from all the nurses in the office. We got lots of comments on her good lungs. Seriously, you guys can't even imagine this shrill shriek she has. Yikes.
Next appointment...she'll be a big sister. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
I took her to the doctor today. The wait was ridiculous, but she was entertained by the books and toys I brought. While distracting her, I discovered that she has broken a molar through on the top. No wonder she hasn't been eating lately!!! And, phew, glad I noticed before the doctor told me and I looked shocked. I'm a slacker of a parent enough without missing something big like that. ;)
Because Lily is the 2nd child, I forgot to write down what her weight and height were. Loser. But I partly blame Lily because she is so darn wiggly and curious, there's no way I could've written it down anyway. Her percentiles are the same as last time, 50th for weight and 75th for height...I think she was around 23 pounds and 30 inches tall. Actually, I'm sure she was 23 pounds. Height...not so sure.
The doctor saw her sitting in her "W" stance (knees bent, feet backward), and immediately guessed she wasn't walking. Apparently, children who sit like that have poor muscle tone and are usually delayed walkers. Interesting. She was going to recommend intervention/PT, but when she saw the strides that Lily has been making in walking on her own, she held off. I am to watch her, and if she stops progressing with her walking, then I am to call and get her some extra therapy. So we'll see. I'm definitely not opposed to therapy...but she HAS made great strides lately (no pun intended). She can take about 3 steps independently now.
To balance out the physical delays, the doctor was noticeably impressed by Lily's verbal skills at 15 months. And for once, Lily actually showed some of them off. She was reading a book as I talked to the doctor and said, "Touchdown" (complete with arm motion) when she saw a football, meow-ed when she saw a cat, pointed at everything, etc etc. So that made a mama proud. Apparently her ability to follow directions and understand is ahead of the game. Whatever. I wouldn't know, since I don't read parenting books anymore. Just don't tell me if it is totally normal. ;) I prefer thinking my child is a genius.
Otherwise, Lily is healthy as can be! Despite living on dairy products and Cheerios, she is growing and healthy. She had to get 4 shots (poor baby), and her screams brought notice from all the nurses in the office. We got lots of comments on her good lungs. Seriously, you guys can't even imagine this shrill shriek she has. Yikes.
Next appointment...she'll be a big sister. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
A 3-hour tour...I mean test.
So I took a 3-hour glucose test today. Not because I failed a one hour. Nope. This OB practice has a policy that if you have a baby over 9 pounds, you just skip right to the 3 hour test. I pointed out that I've had a 7 pound baby since my 9+ pounder, which seems to prove to me that he wasn't big because of diabetes. They wouldn't listen.
The 3 hour test was an unexpected pain in the butt. No food for 12 hours for a pregnant woman is insane. Then they take your blood, you drink this stuff (pure sugar, I think) and they take your blood an hour later. Then an hour after that. Then an hour after that. But for someone like me, who is usually lucky to get one good stick per doctor's visit, all these blood draws are a bit of torture. After 5 sticks, they went back to one of the original sticks to get further draws. Lovely. Let's just stick another needle back into the hold that just clotted up an hour ago. I did enjoy 3 hours of cross-stitching and watching Regis/Rachel Ray. Did you know that Rachel Ray is hardly a cooking show??? That show is an hour, and she only cooked during the last 15 minutes. Weird.
Anyhoo, I should find out by the end of the week. Just as long as I don't have to do it again!
The 3 hour test was an unexpected pain in the butt. No food for 12 hours for a pregnant woman is insane. Then they take your blood, you drink this stuff (pure sugar, I think) and they take your blood an hour later. Then an hour after that. Then an hour after that. But for someone like me, who is usually lucky to get one good stick per doctor's visit, all these blood draws are a bit of torture. After 5 sticks, they went back to one of the original sticks to get further draws. Lovely. Let's just stick another needle back into the hold that just clotted up an hour ago. I did enjoy 3 hours of cross-stitching and watching Regis/Rachel Ray. Did you know that Rachel Ray is hardly a cooking show??? That show is an hour, and she only cooked during the last 15 minutes. Weird.
Anyhoo, I should find out by the end of the week. Just as long as I don't have to do it again!
Finding out.
After reading another blogger's stories about how she remembers each and every positive pregnancy test, I thought I'd write my own stories down. Just in case I forget them someday. If you are reading this and don't care to know about my adventures peeing on a stick, please tune in later this week for another stellar post about drippy noses or doctor's appointments.
So let's see...
Pregnancy #1: Little Miss Regular here thought she'd get pregnant right away and know the day she conceived that "it" had happened. After 6 months of no results, I began charting my temps, etc., to try and get more of a clue why I wasn't getting pregnant. After 2 months of charting, I saw the tell-tale signs that something was different. I had a job interview lined up that Wednesday, so I decided to take a test just in case I wasn't going to need that job after all. Got a big old positive. Climbed back into bed with Jeff and we just oooohhhhed and aaahhhhhed that we were pregnant. So excited. Had the interview...didn't take the job, because I was going to be a SAHM in 8 months. Miscarried 2 weeks later. Bummer about the job.
Pregnancy #2: After bleeding cleared from miscarriage, started charting again. 8 months later, in a move of sheer desperation, we did some weird things with a turkey baster, and again knew from the chart that something was up. But for the first month in ages, I had NO pregnancy symptoms. Jeff forbid me from taking a test too early, just in case I had an early miscarriage. So I snuck to the downstairs bathroom to take one...when it was positive I again climbed back into bed to share the news. Not quite as excited with the pregnancy test this time around...I was kind of waiting every second to start cramping and bleeding and lose the pregnancy. 8 months later...Andrew.
Pregnancy #3: 8 months after getting off BC, I was charting away, and still really frustrated that I couldn't just choose when to get pregnant, damnit! The stars (and EWCM) aligned on our date night in Cinci, and again, the chart gave me the answer before I took the test. Jeff was sure this was it, because again, it was the first month in months where I had NO pregnancy symptoms. I remember taking the test early one morning (again) and climbing back into bed with Jeff (again), and being so incredulous that it had worked out so romantically and perfectly and our kids were going to be perfectly spaced, etc etc. Very very excited. 8 months later...Lillian.
Pregnancy #4: After discovering that our magic number is 8 months, we were feeling pretty confident that pregnancy couldn't just sneak up on us. Rather than being on the mini-pill, we used some barrier methods after Lily was born. My periods were really irregular, so I was planning on going back on the patch. I kept forgetting to stop in and fill my prescription (we don't get any other prescription drugs, so it's not like I'd ever even been in the drug store for that). I was running late on my period, which irritated me, so I finally went on a Saturday and left the kids with Jeff. I was making myself crazy every month worrying that I was pregnant, even though I knew it was impossible, so I went ahead and picked up a pregnancy test to show my brain that it was negative and to stop thinking such crazy thoughts. I had no pregnancy symptoms...which should have tipped me off. Jeff had no idea I had even bought one. After the kiddos went to bed, I snuck upstairs and took it. Turned positive IMMEDIATELY. Shaking uncontrollably, I wobbled downstairs and told Jeff. Started crying hysterically. I don't know how Jeff even figured out what was going on. Not a joyous occasion. Stayed up all night crying. 8 months later...John Jacob Jingleheimer.
So that's it. I feel bad for #3 that the story is so different and so traumatic for me. But I promise I'm over it, and I'm really really excited to meet him. I promise. I'm not saying I won't shudder every August 4th for the next few years...but I'm really excited.
So let's see...
Pregnancy #1: Little Miss Regular here thought she'd get pregnant right away and know the day she conceived that "it" had happened. After 6 months of no results, I began charting my temps, etc., to try and get more of a clue why I wasn't getting pregnant. After 2 months of charting, I saw the tell-tale signs that something was different. I had a job interview lined up that Wednesday, so I decided to take a test just in case I wasn't going to need that job after all. Got a big old positive. Climbed back into bed with Jeff and we just oooohhhhed and aaahhhhhed that we were pregnant. So excited. Had the interview...didn't take the job, because I was going to be a SAHM in 8 months. Miscarried 2 weeks later. Bummer about the job.
Pregnancy #2: After bleeding cleared from miscarriage, started charting again. 8 months later, in a move of sheer desperation, we did some weird things with a turkey baster, and again knew from the chart that something was up. But for the first month in ages, I had NO pregnancy symptoms. Jeff forbid me from taking a test too early, just in case I had an early miscarriage. So I snuck to the downstairs bathroom to take one...when it was positive I again climbed back into bed to share the news. Not quite as excited with the pregnancy test this time around...I was kind of waiting every second to start cramping and bleeding and lose the pregnancy. 8 months later...Andrew.
Pregnancy #3: 8 months after getting off BC, I was charting away, and still really frustrated that I couldn't just choose when to get pregnant, damnit! The stars (and EWCM) aligned on our date night in Cinci, and again, the chart gave me the answer before I took the test. Jeff was sure this was it, because again, it was the first month in months where I had NO pregnancy symptoms. I remember taking the test early one morning (again) and climbing back into bed with Jeff (again), and being so incredulous that it had worked out so romantically and perfectly and our kids were going to be perfectly spaced, etc etc. Very very excited. 8 months later...Lillian.
Pregnancy #4: After discovering that our magic number is 8 months, we were feeling pretty confident that pregnancy couldn't just sneak up on us. Rather than being on the mini-pill, we used some barrier methods after Lily was born. My periods were really irregular, so I was planning on going back on the patch. I kept forgetting to stop in and fill my prescription (we don't get any other prescription drugs, so it's not like I'd ever even been in the drug store for that). I was running late on my period, which irritated me, so I finally went on a Saturday and left the kids with Jeff. I was making myself crazy every month worrying that I was pregnant, even though I knew it was impossible, so I went ahead and picked up a pregnancy test to show my brain that it was negative and to stop thinking such crazy thoughts. I had no pregnancy symptoms...which should have tipped me off. Jeff had no idea I had even bought one. After the kiddos went to bed, I snuck upstairs and took it. Turned positive IMMEDIATELY. Shaking uncontrollably, I wobbled downstairs and told Jeff. Started crying hysterically. I don't know how Jeff even figured out what was going on. Not a joyous occasion. Stayed up all night crying. 8 months later...John Jacob Jingleheimer.
So that's it. I feel bad for #3 that the story is so different and so traumatic for me. But I promise I'm over it, and I'm really really excited to meet him. I promise. I'm not saying I won't shudder every August 4th for the next few years...but I'm really excited.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Positive feedback
Well, the dreaded day has come. Since I saw that positive on the end of a stick, I have envisioned carrying around a baby with a huge pregnant belly. And the comments of people...oh, how I anticipated all the sugary-sweet, criticism-laced comments. So now I have a belly that I just can't hide. And a baby that just won't walk. And...
Apparently, I'm the only A-hole who thinks it is crazy to have your kids close together.
Apparently, all those critical thoughts I've been having are just a reflection on my insecurities and again, on what an A-hole I am.
Apparently, I'm the only jerk that those poor pregnant women had to face saying things like, "Oh, wow, I can't imagine."
Because the response to my big old belly and my little baby girl in my arms has been overwhelmingly positive. Lots of people who say, "Oh! My sister and I were close in age...and I loved it!" Or, "Oh, my boys are 13 months apart, and it was so much fun when they were growing up." And on and on and on.
In fact, in a McDonald's one afternoon (very rare occurrence...us in a McDonald's...), I struck up a conversation with a woman whose 2 1/2 year old son was obsessing over Lily. Turns out she was due with her second child just a week after my #3 is due. I said (in my jerky way), "Oh, a 3 year spacing is so wonderful! It's been so easy, and my kids really enjoy each other." To which she said, "Really? Because I've always wanted kids about 18 months apart. 3 years is just too far apart for my taste." Just proves women are never happy, right?
So I am apologizing to all of you with children close together. I have a hard time letting the "crazy" label go, but it turns out that perhaps I have been the crazy one all along. I still can't imagine how the first year isn't going to be COMPLETE AND TOTAL INSANITY, but I am ready to be proven wrong. Or proven right, and then seeing the beautiful payoff in the years that follow.
And thank you to John Q. Public, for making this part of pregnancy emotionally easier for me. I'm sure I'll get strange comments eventually, especially when #3 catches up to his sister in size and I look like I have twins. But for now, I'll just bask in the positive feedback.
Apparently, I'm the only A-hole who thinks it is crazy to have your kids close together.
Apparently, all those critical thoughts I've been having are just a reflection on my insecurities and again, on what an A-hole I am.
Apparently, I'm the only jerk that those poor pregnant women had to face saying things like, "Oh, wow, I can't imagine."
Because the response to my big old belly and my little baby girl in my arms has been overwhelmingly positive. Lots of people who say, "Oh! My sister and I were close in age...and I loved it!" Or, "Oh, my boys are 13 months apart, and it was so much fun when they were growing up." And on and on and on.
In fact, in a McDonald's one afternoon (very rare occurrence...us in a McDonald's...), I struck up a conversation with a woman whose 2 1/2 year old son was obsessing over Lily. Turns out she was due with her second child just a week after my #3 is due. I said (in my jerky way), "Oh, a 3 year spacing is so wonderful! It's been so easy, and my kids really enjoy each other." To which she said, "Really? Because I've always wanted kids about 18 months apart. 3 years is just too far apart for my taste." Just proves women are never happy, right?
So I am apologizing to all of you with children close together. I have a hard time letting the "crazy" label go, but it turns out that perhaps I have been the crazy one all along. I still can't imagine how the first year isn't going to be COMPLETE AND TOTAL INSANITY, but I am ready to be proven wrong. Or proven right, and then seeing the beautiful payoff in the years that follow.
And thank you to John Q. Public, for making this part of pregnancy emotionally easier for me. I'm sure I'll get strange comments eventually, especially when #3 catches up to his sister in size and I look like I have twins. But for now, I'll just bask in the positive feedback.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Drumroll, please...
I think that Jeff and I have a name for baby #3. And it isn't Trey. Or John Jacob Jingleheimer (which I've been telling Andrew is the name). Or Garcia. Or even Chris or Martin.
This is the earliest that we've ever come up with a name. And probably the least amount of time we've spent talking about it seriously, either. Our conversations have started well enough, and then we both dissolve into silly talk that has no possibility of resulting in a decent name. At least we amuse each other. ;)
Here's an example:
J- How about Dean? I like the name Dean.
G- But we couldn't use Paul as the middle name. So it would have to be Dean Jeffrey S______.
-both pause-
G- That kind of sounds like you have a career aspiration that isn't going to happen, so you've named your kid to live through them.
J- Then how about Doctor? Doctor Jeffrey S________.
G- Then if he actually became a doctor, they could call over the intercom "Paging Doctor Doctor S________."
J- How about Senator?
G- President?
J- Ambassador?
And so we digress. From a perfectly normal discussion about the name Dean to random titles we can throw in as a first name. Quite honestly, it is AMAZING that we have a name at all.
And since we don't tell names ahead of time, won't you be surprised when little King or Lord or Prime Minister S_________ is announced. ;)
(even though it is totally random, I have to add, just for my own sake, that my favorite word of Andrew's at the moment is diagonal. He pronounces is "di-nag-nal". As in, "I'm going to win Connect Four di-nag-nally." I didn't want to write a whole post about it. Just want to document it for chuckles later on).
This is the earliest that we've ever come up with a name. And probably the least amount of time we've spent talking about it seriously, either. Our conversations have started well enough, and then we both dissolve into silly talk that has no possibility of resulting in a decent name. At least we amuse each other. ;)
Here's an example:
J- How about Dean? I like the name Dean.
G- But we couldn't use Paul as the middle name. So it would have to be Dean Jeffrey S______.
-both pause-
G- That kind of sounds like you have a career aspiration that isn't going to happen, so you've named your kid to live through them.
J- Then how about Doctor? Doctor Jeffrey S________.
G- Then if he actually became a doctor, they could call over the intercom "Paging Doctor Doctor S________."
J- How about Senator?
G- President?
J- Ambassador?
And so we digress. From a perfectly normal discussion about the name Dean to random titles we can throw in as a first name. Quite honestly, it is AMAZING that we have a name at all.
And since we don't tell names ahead of time, won't you be surprised when little King or Lord or Prime Minister S_________ is announced. ;)
(even though it is totally random, I have to add, just for my own sake, that my favorite word of Andrew's at the moment is diagonal. He pronounces is "di-nag-nal". As in, "I'm going to win Connect Four di-nag-nally." I didn't want to write a whole post about it. Just want to document it for chuckles later on).
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Flowered sheets and conversationalist
Sometimes I'm so inspired to write in this blog.
And then there are days like today.
Okay, now that I have you all excited, let's get into some random thoughts.
Is it weird that Andrew prefers flowered sheets? I was taking off his Thomas the Train sheets (thread count 15...a little rougher than white computer paper) and asked him what other sheets he would like on the bed. He has these really cool sports sheets and then these flowered sheets we inherited from my Memere. He picked flowers. Like he always does. Weird? Not if you could feel these sheets. They just don't make them like they used to. Any sane person would pick these 25 year old sheets...they are divine cottony softness. But if you just look in his room WITHOUT feeling the sheets...it looks weird. And heaven forbid someone ask him what design his sheets are. Kind of strange.
Lily is talking up a storm. I love it. She has words for so many things...not that anyone other than Jeff and I would understand them. The clearest things she says are thank you (dink-jo), book (boo), fish (pshh), cheese (chssss), and mommy,daddy, etc. She now says the word as she signs also, so it's easy to figure out milk (mi), more (mo), and all done (ah-du). She knows a cow says "moo", a sheep says "bah bah bah", and a cat says "me-ew". We were at Target yesterday, and she suddenly got super excited and pointing and saying "Mee-ew mee-ew" over and over. Sure enough, we were standing next to a greeting card with a cat on it, and Lil was DESPERATE to let me know. And she understands so much...she can follow a simple direction (Lily, take this book to Daddy). It is so fun. And she is so thrilled that we understand her. You can just tell how tickled she is when we give her what she wants because she's said something. So cool. And she still loves singing. Her favorite song is Bah bah Black Sheep...probably because Bah is her favorite syllable ever. So I'll sing Old MacDonald (she sings the E-I-O...missing an E and an I in there), but as soon as I'm done she looks at me and says, "Bah bah". When I start to sing her favorite, she grins wildly and dances. Love her. So much fun.
Andrew was trying to figure out fractions while Grandpa was here. Ugh. He's going to pass me in math skills before he's out of elementary school.
I finished my final grad course so I can renew my teaching certificate. Hell would have to freeze over before I actually went back to teaching, but I feel better knowing that if Jeff leaves me for his secretary I could get a decent paying job with health benefits, etc. Of course, I wouldn't have the kids, so that would make things financially better. Yea, that's our deal. Whoever initiates the divorce would have to take the kids. I'll be damned if he gets a cute little chickee and starts over with no responsibilities. If he wants to leave, then I get to start over. But we're happily married. Really. We just talk about things like this. Like I've casually let him know that I castrated a cat in anatomy in college. So I know how to do things like that if he would get the urge to stray. He talks about writing up a contract promising him at least 3 times a week if he gets the old snip snip. We have normal conversations too. Like how much milk is left in the basement fridge. And if we should finally get curtains for our windows even though we've lived without them for over a year now. Hmmmm, now our marriage sounds weird. We're normal, I swear. Not that I have anything to compare it to.
Um, how do I follow that little awkward bit of writing? I got nothin'. I'll try and be inspired tomorrow...
And then there are days like today.
Okay, now that I have you all excited, let's get into some random thoughts.
Is it weird that Andrew prefers flowered sheets? I was taking off his Thomas the Train sheets (thread count 15...a little rougher than white computer paper) and asked him what other sheets he would like on the bed. He has these really cool sports sheets and then these flowered sheets we inherited from my Memere. He picked flowers. Like he always does. Weird? Not if you could feel these sheets. They just don't make them like they used to. Any sane person would pick these 25 year old sheets...they are divine cottony softness. But if you just look in his room WITHOUT feeling the sheets...it looks weird. And heaven forbid someone ask him what design his sheets are. Kind of strange.
Lily is talking up a storm. I love it. She has words for so many things...not that anyone other than Jeff and I would understand them. The clearest things she says are thank you (dink-jo), book (boo), fish (pshh), cheese (chssss), and mommy,daddy, etc. She now says the word as she signs also, so it's easy to figure out milk (mi), more (mo), and all done (ah-du). She knows a cow says "moo", a sheep says "bah bah bah", and a cat says "me-ew". We were at Target yesterday, and she suddenly got super excited and pointing and saying "Mee-ew mee-ew" over and over. Sure enough, we were standing next to a greeting card with a cat on it, and Lil was DESPERATE to let me know. And she understands so much...she can follow a simple direction (Lily, take this book to Daddy). It is so fun. And she is so thrilled that we understand her. You can just tell how tickled she is when we give her what she wants because she's said something. So cool. And she still loves singing. Her favorite song is Bah bah Black Sheep...probably because Bah is her favorite syllable ever. So I'll sing Old MacDonald (she sings the E-I-O...missing an E and an I in there), but as soon as I'm done she looks at me and says, "Bah bah". When I start to sing her favorite, she grins wildly and dances. Love her. So much fun.
Andrew was trying to figure out fractions while Grandpa was here. Ugh. He's going to pass me in math skills before he's out of elementary school.
I finished my final grad course so I can renew my teaching certificate. Hell would have to freeze over before I actually went back to teaching, but I feel better knowing that if Jeff leaves me for his secretary I could get a decent paying job with health benefits, etc. Of course, I wouldn't have the kids, so that would make things financially better. Yea, that's our deal. Whoever initiates the divorce would have to take the kids. I'll be damned if he gets a cute little chickee and starts over with no responsibilities. If he wants to leave, then I get to start over. But we're happily married. Really. We just talk about things like this. Like I've casually let him know that I castrated a cat in anatomy in college. So I know how to do things like that if he would get the urge to stray. He talks about writing up a contract promising him at least 3 times a week if he gets the old snip snip. We have normal conversations too. Like how much milk is left in the basement fridge. And if we should finally get curtains for our windows even though we've lived without them for over a year now. Hmmmm, now our marriage sounds weird. We're normal, I swear. Not that I have anything to compare it to.
Um, how do I follow that little awkward bit of writing? I got nothin'. I'll try and be inspired tomorrow...
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Happy New Year!
Welcome 2008! The last of our holiday visitors left this morning...thank you to Mom, Dad, Andrea, Linda, Paul, and Chad for coming all the way to PA to spend time with us. It was heaven to sleep in our own beds and not have to travel with kids. And not so much fun for you (especially Andrea and Chad...not even a bed for you!). We feel quite relaxed and spoiled after our winter break.
On to resolutions! In the past, I've had a long list of resolutions. Like last year, I resolved to not move in 2007. I mean pack up and move out of our house. And we succeeded! A full calendar year in one place! For the first year since 2004! Woo-hoo!
This year, I am resolving to stay out of the loony bin. My goal this year is to survive until next year. I know this seems melodramatic. And I know that I could have it much harder (a hubby who travels, twins, terminal illness, etc.). I know this logically. And I also know I am being hugely pessimistic about bringing a 3rd child into the mix this soon after Lily's birth. But I like being pessimistic. I can only be pleasantly surprised, right? I'm especially worried about the summer. But more on that later...aren't you excited? So, 2008=No commitment to insane asylum!
On a big positive note, I have done a 180 degree turn in thinking about this child as an individual. I am SOOOOOOO excited to meet him. I realize this makes no sense when combined with the paragraph above. To try and clarify, I am terrified of juggling 3 children and all that comes with that. I am thrilled to get to know this new little person growing inside of me. Confused? Me too. It defies all logic, but my Mama-bear instinct has fully kicked in, and I WANT this baby. He is MINE. He kicks me all the time, and I'm starting to be able to feel body parts when I push and probe my belly. I'm just glad that he's there. It's not what I planned, but I'm finally very happy that he's here. And since Jeff has had so much time off during the holidays, we've actually been very productive with the name hunt. I think we have it down to 2 names. We're leaning towards one, but we realize there is still a lot of pregnancy left to change our minds, so we're still open to other names. And it's not Kai-po. -sigh- No little blue-eyed Hawaiian boy.
Um, would you like to see Christmas pictures? Okay, you'll have to wait. I got a new program for Christmas to download and downsize photos. So I'll get back to you when I figure that out.
On to resolutions! In the past, I've had a long list of resolutions. Like last year, I resolved to not move in 2007. I mean pack up and move out of our house. And we succeeded! A full calendar year in one place! For the first year since 2004! Woo-hoo!
This year, I am resolving to stay out of the loony bin. My goal this year is to survive until next year. I know this seems melodramatic. And I know that I could have it much harder (a hubby who travels, twins, terminal illness, etc.). I know this logically. And I also know I am being hugely pessimistic about bringing a 3rd child into the mix this soon after Lily's birth. But I like being pessimistic. I can only be pleasantly surprised, right? I'm especially worried about the summer. But more on that later...aren't you excited? So, 2008=No commitment to insane asylum!
On a big positive note, I have done a 180 degree turn in thinking about this child as an individual. I am SOOOOOOO excited to meet him. I realize this makes no sense when combined with the paragraph above. To try and clarify, I am terrified of juggling 3 children and all that comes with that. I am thrilled to get to know this new little person growing inside of me. Confused? Me too. It defies all logic, but my Mama-bear instinct has fully kicked in, and I WANT this baby. He is MINE. He kicks me all the time, and I'm starting to be able to feel body parts when I push and probe my belly. I'm just glad that he's there. It's not what I planned, but I'm finally very happy that he's here. And since Jeff has had so much time off during the holidays, we've actually been very productive with the name hunt. I think we have it down to 2 names. We're leaning towards one, but we realize there is still a lot of pregnancy left to change our minds, so we're still open to other names. And it's not Kai-po. -sigh- No little blue-eyed Hawaiian boy.
Um, would you like to see Christmas pictures? Okay, you'll have to wait. I got a new program for Christmas to download and downsize photos. So I'll get back to you when I figure that out.
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