99% Accurate

8 months

2011-08-09T21:23:00.003-04:00

Littlest one started babbling with a purpose today. J had a drink at dinner and darn if that youngin' didn't look at J, break into an enormous grin, shake with delight, and boisterously say "ba ba ba". J looked back: "Bottle?" "Ba Ba Ba" came the response. We were so thrilled.

The child got teeth at four months, had 8 choppers by the time he was six months old, started crawling around six months, pulling up on things a few weeks later, and now will do the famous baby wobble walk if you hold his hands. How is this even possible? His life is on fast forward, it has to be. Not to mention, this boy is so, so proud of himself with every advancement he makes. Keeping up with his brothers is not going to be a problem if he keeps learning this quickly. He'll be passing them in a few years if they aren't careful.

Tata will be three in just a couple short weeks, and he is trying hard to be a big boy, while remaining the baby in the family. Yes, my sweet little middle child, you are so confused right now, but we love you no matter what.

Buddance continues to tell me, on pretty much a daily basis; (whisper voice) "Momma, I'm not tired, can I stay up during my nap?" And I let him, and then most days he is wanting to pass out on the couch at 5 pm. Not tired? Riiiiiight. Me either, kid. Me either.

Hot Hot Hooooot

2011-07-24T23:06:00.002-04:00

Wow. This summer is a doozy, on Thursday it was 105, but with the lovely heat index it reached a balmy 120. Let's just say the boys have been bouncing off THE WALLS because they have been cooped up inside for several days. Oh, and our AC broke tonight. Lovely.

The green stuff

2011-06-08T22:17:00.001-04:00

Matty, who won't touch an avocado with a 10 foot pole, is head over heels about guacamole.

T, who eats avocados with reckless abandon, tells me: "Oh, I don't like squacamole."

Boys, boys, boys

2011-05-26T22:47:00.002-04:00

Buddance: "AndrewAndrew Bobandrew, Bananafana Fofandrew, Me, My, Momandrew, Annnnnnnndrew."

T: "Annoying."

**************

Littlest boy sucks his toes like it is his job now. So cute, and the noises that go with the toe sucking are priceless. He also has FOUR teeth, and started teething at four and a half months. Crazy!

**************

The older boys love to baptize Daddy during their bath.
"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..." So sweet.

***************

T is constantly getting the words 'saliva' and 'lava' mixed up. He talks about being a baby bird who is stuck in some hot saliva. He also likes to use the word Salava a lot.

Little bits

2011-03-31T15:15:00.003-04:00

- Buddance was trying to play with, ahem...TAKE, some toys that T was using. T pipes up and tells Buddance he is playing with those plates and Buddance will have to wait:
"I am aggravating these right now and I am not done yet."

Yes. Well. That about sums up all of our playtime interactions.

- Tag Along K is now kicking in the bathtub all by himself and giggling, which can only mean he will be starting preschool next week, because that's how fast it feels it went with Buddance.

- It always makes me feel like I am doing something right when one of my older boys shouts up the stairs at the top of his lungs to his brother:
"Please come and play with me, I love you!"

Engrish: FTW!

2011-03-24T21:20:00.002-04:00

J overheard this conversation between the older boys a few weeks ago.

T: Are you done with that toy yet?

Bud: No, I am still using it.

T: But why aren't you done?

Bud: Because I amment.

Names for the babe

2011-03-23T17:10:00.004-04:00

The nicknames that our two older boys are bestowing upon our youngest are fantastic:
- Tag along K
- Pedestrian Bridge Boy
- Bingo
- and any other made up nonsense that makes them laugh

Before I forget: Names that Buddance liked to call T:
Timmis Bimmis
Tingy Dingy

Inhale exhale

2010-10-07T14:02:00.002-04:00

I should not be typing anything right now, but I am feeling so stressed I can barely breathe.

A list of sorts, because are my entries anything else these days?

2009-08-18T17:41:00.005-04:00

Oh my heavenly stars. T is walking now, not flat out walking, but taking hesitant steps and shuffling along, and being immensely proud of himself when those little shuffles happen. It is thrilling to see, and he can't wait to get bigger like Buddance. He also started talking about a month ago, his first word ever? Hot. Forget momma or daddy, the child wants you to know that the stove is "HOT!" and that when you cook, your food gets "HOT!". Since starting the constant commentary about everything being hot, T has also developed the ability to say "hat". He loves hats and will comment whenever anyone has something on their head, be it sunglasses, a cup, a spoon, or you know, an actual hat. There is an occasional "momma" thrown into the mix, but still no daddy. Also, cutest thing ever: T knows that a dog says "arf arf arf".

******
The other evening J and Buddance were having a conversation.

(Back story: Depending on the conversation Buddance likes to end what he is saying with "Just like that!".)

While they are talking, J compared a few things for Bud, and when Bud opened his mouth to say something, J jumped in with: "Just like that!"

Bud looked startled for a few moments and J says: "I took the words right of your mouth."

Without missing a beat Bud responded: "Put words back in mouth."

******
In one week and one day my baby won't be a baby anymore, which is pretty much mind blowing because I am fairly certain he has only been on this Earth about 7 weeks. That's how fast this past year...wait...really? Gosh, has it really been a year? It has been a year filled with craziness and a wee bit of stress, but I wouldn't change a thing. I love watching T imitate Bud, I am thrilled to see the beginning of their relationship. Last week Bud wanted T to "Come in living room right now!" so they could play on the couch cushions together. Of course, T had his own ideas about where he wanted to be, and the couch cushions were not part of that plan.

As I bathed T the other night, Bud was in the bathroom with us, doing whatever, talking, climbing on my back, turning the sink faucet on (Me: stop doing that please, you are wasting water. Bud: Momma says no.), and just wandering all over the tiniest bathroom ever, making it that much more difficult to bathe a squirmin' little lump of love. I hunkered down beside the tub, leaned over to wash the suds out of a red haired mohawk, and felt Bud clamber up onto my back.

I used to tolerate Bud climbing all over me while I bathed T because I knew it kept Bud occupied. However, that night, I stopped for a moment and realized I really enjoyed this time with my boys. For maybe the first time ever I let go of the stress of having two little men who always need something during bath time and relished in the fact that I had two little men who needed me.

The little things

2009-07-27T15:31:00.002-04:00

I tell myself every day that I must, MUST, start writing down the things that Buddance is saying, and I haven't started. Well, that changes: NOW.

- J or I will often sing to Tata in the car when he gets upset, or we'll talk to him about things we are doing, or what we see out the window to help calm him down if he is crying. The other day during a short car trip, in which Tata was just fine, Buddance starts talking. "Thomas, look out window, see car." "Thomas, Matthew have monkey in hand." "Thomas likes to play with toys." And then, he follows up these wonderful sentences by saying "Matthew is talking to Thomas so Thomas won't cry." The sweetness; it blows me away!

- When Buddance wants to know about something, or doesn't know the answer to a question that is asked he will respond with "Help me find out."

- We finished bath time and as I was drying off my boy, he leans over, wrapped his little arms around my neck and told me "Momma is a good momma!" I LOVE THAT KID.

- Buddance is constantly trying to console Tata when they are in the car and on a long ride north to see family over the weekend, Tata started to get a little loud and whiny. Bud looks over at Tata and announces "Don't cry Thomas, it's okay. Thomas, I love you." AGAIN. Could it get any sweeter? No. Not at all.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!

2009-06-05T13:32:00.002-04:00

What nine month kid does not like pears? The sweetness, the softness, and did I mention the SWEETNESS? What kid doesn't enjoy eating something that tastes so lovely while they are attempting to chew with non-existent teeth? What kid wouldn't want to enjoy the deletable taste of ripe pear as they are being spoon fed?

My kid. That's who.

Besides the puffs and cheerios that he crams down his gaping maw when he is hungry, all other food is ignored, shoved away, and treated as though it is poison. This is driving me absolutely crazy. Perhaps we will go longer between poisonings, er, feedings...I mean feedings...and see who is picky then.

Gabbers

2009-05-14T17:42:00.005-04:00

Oh gee, hi there. It's...uhh...it's been a little while, eh? Would it help if I said that I thought about posting almost every day? That my kids have been doing really cute things and I have been reminding myself for days that I would remember the cute things they did and I would come here and update said cuteness for all to enjoy? That would help? Great! Then I will be back soon, once I can actually remember exactly what the cute things are, because my memory? It is broken.

Okay, so my memory is not completely broken, just a little on the blitz every now and then. I can remember a few things, such as Buddance asking me the other day if he could take his head off to look at the bug bite on the back of his neck. I was pretty impressed with his train of thought and actually laughed out loud when he looked at me, very earnestly, and said "Momma, take head off." I wish it were that easy buddy.

And holy cow, when did babies decide to grow up so quickly? Jeez, Tata is changing more and more each day. And since he is still unable to tell us with words what his little mind is thinking, he instead shouts and screeches his thoughts at top V O L U M E to get his point across. Basically what I take away from all of his communication is if I don't want to be deaf in another few years, I should don earplugs when in the same room as him. That baby boy is L O U D.

He is also mobile, which is so exciting for his father and myself to see, and so panic inducing for his older brother to see. Buddance has gotten very good at saying the sentence "THOMAS! DON'T GAB IT!" whenever he sees his little brother crawling in any direction. The sentence is repeated by Bud at least two more times if Tata is seen casting a sidelong glance at a toy, a piece of furniture, a spec of dirt on the floor, or a molecule in the air. Buddance picks a toy up off the floor in a hot second if Tata is in the same room as said toy. All of this has lead to me trying to teach Bud about sharing, and trying to explain that one of the only ways Tata can learn about the world around him is to touch and explore. I am pretty sure Bud thinks I am trying to pull one over on him, and just let Tata use Bud's toys. The fun will really begin when Tata can actually lean over and REALLY "gab" something out of Bud's hands. Oh, I just can't wait for those days! (And no, that last sentence was not dripping with sarcasm in THE LEAST.)

Rockin' and Pukin'

2009-04-13T18:25:00.002-04:00

So, my littlest man is at the point in his short little life where he is becoming more adventurous. He is now managing to hoist himself up on his hands every once in awhile and rock back and forth to the imaginary soundtrack in his head. He is also able to push himself backwards using his baby buff arms and then looks around the room and wails and little because he just pushed himself backwards and that is NOT what he had actually planned to do. I mean really. It's like he has no idea what he is doing. Oh...wait...

But you know, I think he does know what he is doing when he head butts me countless times a day and horks all over anything in sight. Just the other day I was holding Tata and opening a dresser drawer, Tata leans over, looks down at the clean clothes nestled snugly in the drawer, and spews his lunch all over top of them. DUDE. I can take you regurgitating the contents of your stomach on my shoulder, because it's the closest thing to you, etc, etc. But my clean clothes drawer? You are most certainly plotting against me for some unknown reason. Perhaps it's the peas I feed you? They are good for you. End of discussion. No more horking.

So there I was...

2009-03-26T15:41:00.002-04:00

...thinking about how infrequently I write and wanting desperately to remedy that.

There.

The end.

Oh, how very funny I am. Why do I not write as often as I used to? I think really, it has to do with the fact that I like to sit comatose in front of my computer at the end of the day and mindlessly click on crap. Sounds delightful, no? I could be putting my brain to better use by actually typing words into sentences and stringing them in cohesive paragraphs, but, eh. I prefer the brain rot lately.

I just managed to squeeze a few extra drops of energy out of my weary, worn down body, and started running again this week. Thank God for that, since I am more than a little jiggly, wiggly lately. The lack of muscle tone in my legs is starting to make me twitch, and is really not something I am used to, so I better quit complaining and actually do something about the problem. The ginormous hill outside of my house has become my new best friend and I hate that I love it so much.

In addition to making a new friend, I have cut myself off from an old, reliable friend. I gave up desserts with refined sugar for Lent, and that? THAT is an accomplishment. Sugar and I are tight. Tighter than tight is tight, to be exact. I am queen of the sugar intake, just ask my husband. Quick back story: When J and I first started dating, he bought some Life cereal. Plain Life cereal, mind you. I poured myself a bowl, couldn't wait to eat it, and as I brought the little squares to my mouth and let my taste buds experience the Lifey goodness, all I could think was how plain and boring that cereal tasted. Where was the FLAVOR? Where was the SUGAR? This wasn't cereal. It was cardboard masquerading as cereal.

Fast forward to last week, when I decided to by another box of Life and try it again. And do you know what? That shiznit is almost TOO sweet for me now! I could not believe it. Also, it only has 6 grams of sugar. SIX! That is pretty low compared to a lot brands out there. Um, or maybe just compared to the brands that I used to consume. Either way? It's low! So, I am pleased with the amount of sugar I have started cutting out of my diet, though my spare tire is a little put off with me, especially since it won't have a home much longer.

That's right baby, I'm back. And it feels goooooood.

Happy Bir...oh...wait.

2009-03-13T11:35:00.005-04:00

So. Apparently it is March. And somewhere back in February I became the momma of a 2 year old. Er...Happy Birthday Buddance! At least the party that was thrown for him was relatively near the day of his birth, unlike this entry. Bud had a grand time turning 2 and I had an even grander time knowing that the party was over and done with. It's not that I don't want my son to enjoy himself, but hosting a party for a bunch of 1 and 2 year olds, in a house the size of a post-it note does not make my top ten list of fun things to do with my time.

Let's see. What else have I been slacking on, besides updating about the two little people who like laugh, drool, and monopolize my time? Tata is changing at an alarming rate. One of his favorite things to do is pull his sock off and chew on it, which might be one of the cutest things EVER, in the history of cute things. Tata is also all about rolling over, and he is getting really good at reaching out for objects in front of him, whether that be a nose, hair, or any other object that hurts when you grab it. Buddance is actually really patient with Tata and let's him grab at his face, and touch his hair, etc. In fact, Bud actually likes the attention from Tata and will usually tell Tata "Maw!" (More) when Tata grabs at him. Buddance loves to have Tata watch him, when we are on the playground Bud runs from place to place, calling Tata's name, hoping that Tata will see the totally awesome thing that Bud is doing. It is the cutest thing. My wish is that they will always be a good friend to one another.

Hm. Now, how can I end this really random entry? Oh! We are getting family pictures done tomorrow to mark the fact that we have survived living with a 2 year old and a 6 month old. Let's hope we can all survive the photo shoot!

Story time

2009-02-05T16:22:00.004-05:00

Buddance and I had the following conversion today as I was giving him lunch:

Me: What would you like to eat? An orange or a banana?*

Bud: AAARRRNNNNNNEE! (Translation: orange!)

Me: (Super high silly voice): An ORAAANGE? Reeeally?!

Bud: (Grins wildly, and does a little bit of a dance in one spot): Yea!

Me: (Super duper high silly voice): Reeeealy? You really like them?!

Bud: (Looks at me as if I am a little crazy, still smiling): YEA!!

Me: Okay, cutepants. Here is your orange.

If I was that over the moon about eating every day, I am sure I would enjoy my meals a heck of a lot more.

*Let the record show that Bud consumed more than just an AAARRRNNNE for lunch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few key points before this story begins:

Bud has morphed from calling his brother TT to Ta Ta.

Bud knows that Ta Ta cannot eat food because he has no teeth, Ta Ta can only have milk.

Bud also knows that Momma gives milk or that Daddy gives milk in a bottle.

(Aaaaand I think you see where this is going...)

Bud and I were doing some food shopping the other day, and we decided to pick up some whole milk for Bud. As we put the milk in the cart Bud points at the milk carton, shakes his head no and says "Ta Ta", then he nods his head yes and says "Mahume".

Translation: T cannot have that milk in the carton, that milk is for M.

I agree with Bud, "Yes you are right, this milk is not for T, this milk we are buying is for M."

Bud then looks at me, nods his head yes, points to my chest, and says "Ta Ta."

Translation: You need to start calling your brother something else.

Slow dance

2009-02-02T21:00:00.005-05:00

We stand close, his head nestled against mine, me bearing all of his weight. He moves his head slowly from side to side, always looking, not wanting anything to pass him by. His skin is warm, and softer than any kind of material I have ever felt. I begin to hum our song and feel his body relax against me, hear his breathing become more even and listen to his throaty whimpers fade. Swaying back and forth, ever so slightly, we slow dance to the music I create and I hold him even tighter, my lips kissing his downy soft head. I try to imprint every part of this dance in my mind. I want to remember the feel of his body, so soft and small, the smell of his hair, so clean and pure, and the responsibility that is upon me, so mighty and massive.

Laugh, and the world laughs with you

2008-11-16T21:22:00.002-05:00

TT is laughing! He doesn't do it often, but when he does, it is awesome. He takes a little while to get going: "He...He He...He..." and then he will do a couple of good giggles in a row. I love it. I absolutely love it. I am hoping that because TT is becoming more and more interactive, Buddance will start to take more interest in him. Bud is great with TT, but I think having TT react to something that Bud does will really seal the deal.

The only specific thing I can think of that makes TT laugh is J making fart noises. I remember Bud smiling at the fart noises as well. My boys...all about the potty humor. Speaking of...remember the days when I used to use the bathroom without a 2 1/2 foot tall audience? Me too. Those days were pretty awesome.

Completely sweetly

2008-11-04T21:00:00.004-05:00

Watching Buddance put his little stuffed Lammie on the table, take off his bib, and then gently place his bib around Lammie's neck, so Lammie could eat lunch, was totally, 100% heartwarming.

RAAAARRRR!

2008-11-03T11:25:00.004-05:00

That was Bud on Friday night, celebrating his first Halloween as the cutest lion you have ever seen, roaring his way down the street to various houses. It was touch and go as to whether or not he would actually wear the costume, but when the night arrived, I threw it on him as if he were just changing into a different outfit and he didn't protest at all, which was shocking.

We went to pick up J from work and start our evening, and J made a comment about Bud's costume. Like I mentioned, I literally threw the suit on him, pants were crooked, one foot was hanging out, the other tucked up under the material, the top half of his costume wasn't fastened, the arms looked too long, half the upper part of suit was sitting on him crookedly, he looked a little dishevelled to say the least. Watching Bud walk to the car J commented that "Larry the homeless lion" needed to hold his Daddy's hand and I lost it because Bud truly did look like a little homeless lion at that point.

We went and trick or treated at a neighborhood where several good friends live so they could all see Bud and TT. Bud was a little unsure of what to do at first, but he slowly got into knocking on doors and holding up his little pillowcase (Momma was a slacker and never found a pumpkin basket in time for the festivities). Bud didn't even realize that what he was getting was candy (he never had chocolate until that night), I think he just thought he was picking out brightly colored little toys. We only went to about eight houses, and by the time we were done Bud was really starting to love the experience and didn't want the night to end. TT ended up sleeping through his first Halloween, but his cute little pumpkin slippers were so sweet sticking out from the bottom of the Bjorn.

We had such a fun night and I am already excited about next year when both boys will be able to go out together begging for treats.

Cuter than cute is cute

2008-11-03T11:11:00.002-05:00

TT is smiling now and it is wonderful to see, I am so excited that his personality is beginning to emerge and we are seeing glimpses of what a sweet boy he is. I love to tickle one of his many chins so I can see a big, gummy, toothless grin take over his face. The cuteness of his smiles slays me every time, I love it!

There are other good things happening too, but those things have nothing to do with how well he is beginning to sleep at night, nor do they have anything to do with the length of time he is sleeping. (You see that? I am not tempting fate or jinxing myself, because I am not writing about anything remotely related to TT's GOOD sleeping.)

Crush

2008-10-07T11:01:00.002-04:00

I have a girl crush on Jillian Michaels and my secret want right now is to have her come yell in my face and make me do just "one-more-don't-give-up-now-I-want-to-see-you-HURT-push-up."

My God, that woman and her abs are awesome.

I...

2008-10-06T20:08:00.003-04:00

...still can't believe I have two children.

...am so totally in love with a small, squeaky baby boy.

...love that J calls TT 'Mr. Squeakers' due to his eating habits.

...miss the time I used to spend with Buddance, but enjoy getting to know TT.

...am excited that I am already fitting into a lot of my regular pants.

...am terrified about the market and fear that my children will be paying for these mistakes.

...wish I could spend more time with my husband.

...wish I could spend more time sleeping.

...wish there were more granola options without raisins.

...am loving the cooler weather.

...LOVE hearing Buddance use his 'monster mouth': AAAYYYYARRRR!

...can't wait for a special wedding this weekend.

...am scared about what my job options will be in a month or so.

...wish there were more hours in the day.

...wish my boys would work on coordinating their nap schedules.

...want my toe to stop throbbing from the mop that nailed it earlier.

...wish the temperature never went above 70 degrees.

...need stronger neck muscles to hold up a little squeaky burper.

...cannot wait to see my kids playing together.

...am proud of Buddance for handling the arrival of TT so well.

...love, love, love my family.

And then there were four...

2008-09-26T14:27:00.003-04:00

So many things to write about, and so LITTLE time. Exactly one month ago today the fourth member of our family entered the world. TT (as his older brother calls him) was a month early, but completely healthy. He took us by surprise being so early, but we have have adjusted and are enjoying having him in our lives. Buddance is doing well overall and loves to give TT hugs, kisses and pats on the head. I am dying to write about my labor with TT and the past month, but haven't been able to find the time to sit down and do so just yet.

One short thing I did want to record: I took Bud to get new fall shoes last weekend. On Monday Bud and J came downstairs to eat breakfast and Bud saw his shoes and wanted to wear them. After J told me that story I was struck by how quickly my first boy is growing up. Wanting to wear new shoes sounds like such a big boy thing to do, and yet here is Bud, wanting his new shoes, growing up so quickly. What seems like such a small, insignificant everyday occurrence made me so proud of Bud and yet I also yearned for time to slow down, just a bit.

Life is good right now. I love my boys and while I long for a bit more sleep, I am so happy to have my healthy, wonderful family surrounding me.

Safety: our #1 goal

2008-08-19T15:39:00.003-04:00

J's response to being told that he left the safety gate wide open to Bud's room (at the top of the stairs) and shut the safety gate that is one foot from the bottom of the stairs:

"Well, I didn't want him to fall all the way down the stairs."

De Nile

2008-08-19T13:50:00.004-04:00

According to my sleep deprived calculations this baby is scheduled to burst forth from my loins in about oh...six weeks and two days. And that? That, is NOT very far off. This is of course assuming that the kid will not arrive early. Hear that kidlet? Don't arrive early! Momma's orders. Really I am in complete denial that in less than two months our little family of three will suddenly be four. I am an intelligent, educated person and yet I just cannot picture what this new baby is going to be like and how much different our family will be because of said baby. I am thrilled to meet this little one, but I am also a little bit sad that I will no longer just be Buddance's momma. Don't get me wrong, I am completely excited to be a mom to two kids, but at the same time I am trying very hard to cherish these last weeks as a mom to only one. It is such a strange feeling, yearning to meet this new child, but also hoping he or she will wait a just a little longer to come so I can make sure I get one more story read to Bud or one more trip to the pool.

Speaking of trips: we just spent the last week and a half up north visiting our lovely family and oh boy, it was grand, but also very, very tiring. J ended up working much of the time we were there, so it wasn't so much a vacation, but more like home away from home. We did get to do some fun things, J and I spent a long weekend in Mystic, CT - which is gorgeous and I am planning to move there after I find the buried treasure in our yard worth 3 million dollars. We took Bud to get ice cream, played with Bud's cousin (who is only 12 days older), visited friends we don't often see and went on some walks. So, it wasn't all work, work, work, but for J a lot of it was.

Now that we are home again it's back to work, work, work. We have so much to do to our basement (read: EVERYTHING) to get it ready before the baby comes. I would very much like for there to be a working toilet installed down there before this kid comes home, but what the heck, I'll settle for a chamber pot at this point. Poor J, he is working like crazy to make sure his family is being taken care of, and he is trying to do much of the work on the basement by himself. He is amazing. I am so thankful he is in my life. There are many times I take J for granted. Some recent events in my life have made it very clear just how much I take for granted, but I am working to be a better wife and partner, and I hope he values me as much as I value him.

Now, what should we have for dinner? That is the most important question for today. I did nothing to prepare for dinner this evening, and haven't been to the grocery store since coming back from our trip, so perhaps we'll dine on some stale potato chips and applesauce. Sounds delish, no?

Updates Schmupdates

2008-07-23T10:58:00.002-04:00

It seems that I always have these wonderful ideas for a post flitting around in my head, but when I sit down to write, I forget every single one of them. So, instead of a coherent, concise post I present: Boring updates from the past month. Yay!

Over the last week we realized we are letting Bud become very lazy when he is talking. We'll often fill in words for him, say the name of objects he is pointing to (instead of asking him what the object is) and let him say the wrong word for objects (he calls trash "da", and we are okay with this). Well! No more! The talking police are here to stay. Bud is getting pretty stubborn about saying his words, but we just keep encouraging him and praising him when he finally does try something other than "da". Da has been his go to word, it is what he says when he knows he is supposed to say something, but can't form the right sound.

Not only are we encouraging Bud to branch out more with his speech, we are trying to get him to use a big boy cup. He looks so old drinking from a cup! We have had some spills, some on purpose, some by accident, but for the most part Bud is doing really well mastering a regular cup. It is amazing to see how much he has changed, all the traces of the baby he used to be are virtually gone and have been replaced with little boy personality and antics.

Speaking of antics, this kid is the life of the party. He is constantly trying to entertain himself by making himself laugh, or making others laugh. Any time Bud hears someone chuckling, he will start chuckling right along with them, and it doesn't matter where we are when this happens, around friends or strangers, Bud likes to laugh. We could be strolling by people eating outside, they start to laugh, and Bud will turn and guffaw right along with them. It cracks me up every time he does it! Bud definitely knows what he wants, and usually it involves a smile and a giggle.

The boy is so full of laughter and joy, I hope this doesn't change once his sibling arrives. This week I am 31 weeks along! Time is flying. We finally got our building permit and so we begin finishing the basement. I am so thrilled that we will be working to complete the space, I can only pray it is all done before our 2nd little bambino graces us with its presence. And yes, I just called my baby an 'it', because that is far easier to type than he or she. In other 'it' news, this kid is kicking up a storm now, which is wonderful to feel. It has become very roley poley in my belly, and I am constantly feeling it press on my insides. I cannot wait to find out who this baby is, I am so excited to meet you my little one!

I will end this post by remembering one of the most perfect moments from last night. As we were putting Bud to bed, I settled down in the rocker to read him a story and J got ready to leave the room. As he was leaving, J turned around, kneeled down, opened his arms and asked Bud for a hug. Bud was standing near the changing table and he suddenly bolted away from the table, ran towards J, and threw himself into J's arms. It was absolutely heartwarming to see the amount of love and excitement Bud has for his Daddy. If everyone we loved was always that excited to give us hugs, I have a feeling we'd all be in better moods.

Just keep moving?

2008-06-20T10:31:00.003-04:00

I have tried hard to workout and stay in shape during this pregnancy. It isn't always easy and there are many times that I am tired, achy, and uncomfortable and make excuses as to why I shouldn't go for a jog or do some stretching. However, for the most part I have been pretty dedicated to running/jogging. I don't go everyday, but I try to go every other day, and I am lifting some light weights as well to maintain strength in my back, because picking up a toddler while six months pregnant? Ho boy.

The other evening I left for my run/waddle-walk after Buddance was in bed. It was a nice evening and there were countless people outside, sitting on porches, enjoying the weather. I had not even made it to the end of my block when I ran past a house with a front porch full of people. I clearly heard a woman on the porch cry out: "She is running again! Look at that! Look at THAT!"

Um, yes. I am running. I am not deaf.

I have a feeling that people think I am harming the baby, or that I am a total nincompoop should not be exercising at all now that I am pregnant. I felt like shouting out: "My doctor says it's fine. Stop staring."

Many people give me a once over as I run by, and you know? A few years ago I probably would have wondered what was up with a pregnant woman running, besides the obvious; that she is crazy. So, I have come expect a few stares but that was the first time I heard someone make a comment. However, it was not the last.

I continued my run on a pretty popular walking/biking trail near our house, and there were tons of people out, taking advantage of the lack of humidity (why oh why can't it stay that way all summer?). On the trail I jogged by a young couple who were sitting on a bench people watching all the bikers, walkers and runners. As I made my way past the couple I heard the guy exclaim: "That is messed up."

There was no one else running near me at the time, so I knew the comment was directed at me and the "condition" in which I was running. I ignored the dude, and continued on my way, made my way to my turn around spot and then started on my loop back home. It took me about ten minutes to loop around and pass by the couple's bench again and I was praying that they would be gone, because I was sure I would hear something else spew forth and by this time I was really not in the mood to hear another pithy comment. As I approached the bench I saw my wish was not granted, there the couple sat, eyeing everyone that went by. Again, as I ran by there was no one immediately near me, so I knew for certain the guy's comment "My eyes! My eyes!" was meant for me.

Five years ago I would have cried the rest of the way home and then spent the evening crying about how hurt my feelings were by such callous remarks and then I would have cried a little more because I would have been mad at myself for not defending myself. However, I am bigger person now, for which I am thankful and didn't let the comments affect me in such a way. I realize that this person was trying to impress the girl he was sitting with and making fun a pregnant woman running is a good way for him to try and do this. Yes, he is rude. Yes, he hurt my feelings. And yes, I realize he is narrow minded and probably more insecure than myself.

I wouldn't say that all the remarks I heard in one night didn't make me self-conscious, they certainly did. I am six months pregnant, so that alone will call attention to my body. The fact that I am six months pregnant and running is CERTAINLY going to call attention to my body. So I took matters into my own hands and have started running at the butt crack of dawn, between 5:30 and 5:45 am I am out the door and on the trail, and I have to say, it makes a world of difference. I only see one or two people at the most and they barely give me a first glance, much less a second or third.

So to sum it all up: I will try and keep running as long as my hips will tolerate me, just not at peak hours when people treat me like a freak show and hurl snarky comments my way.

A (few) day(s) late and dollar(s) short

2008-06-17T15:26:00.003-04:00

Just like in all areas of my life lately, it seems I am falling down on the job. This particular job I am referring to is the one of making sure my husband knows just what an awesome and irreplaceable father, best friend, entertainer, comedian, tickle warrior, and butt wiper he is. I know for a fact that I could not be the mother I am to my child without my husband standing by my side. I receive so much encouragement and support from J, and I love the fact that he’s is always ready to help me out in anyway possible, whether it be dropping whatever work he is doing to help feed the Bud, watching Buddance while I try to quickly dry my hair, or staying home for a morning to care for Bud so I can rest my weary pregnant body and prevent a major pass out.

J is my best friend, I know that I can tell him anything on my mind and he will not judge me, nor will he hold whatever spills from my pie-hole against me. The trouble is I have a hard time remembering this, and it often takes me a little while to open up, even after J’s patient and repeated attempts to find out what, if anything is bothering me. I am working on expressing myself and J is working with me. The persistent inquires into my psychological well-being are just one of the few ways that I know he loves me and wants only the best for me.

Watching J and Bud interact is one of the highlights of my life. J is so patient with Bud, gently reminding Bud to please not walk with a straw in his mouth, or lovingly rubbing sunscreen into Bud’s squirming appendages as Bud tries to make a run for the border. My favorite times of day are when J lays down on the floor and lets Bud climb all over him, occasionally tickling Bud or whisking Bud upside down during the whole ordeal. Hearing the interaction of squeals and giggles and watching the love the two of them share is heartwarming.

I receive lessons in patience from J everyday. He reminds to slow down and breathe and helps me realize that all the thoughts that freak me out and have me in a panic can be solved, or will work out in their own way. J helps me to see the humor in life, everyday he tries to make me smile, no matter what kind of pressure is upon him or stress he is feeling. He gently nudges me with reminders that I cannot not take on the whole world, and helps me break my tasks in manageable daily duties. Without J, I would most certainly be balancing my check book in the wee hours of the night, ready to pass out on the floor in my underwear.

J is the rock for our family, in both a literal and figurative way, and for that I am so thankful. Happy Father’s day J, may you always know how much we value and love you.

Little bits

2008-06-13T15:14:00.005-04:00

The other evening I arrived home in time to see Buddance awake from his afternoon nap. He and his Daddy were upstairs in Bud's room, preparing to come down and get ready for the rest of the afternoon. I entered the room and went to pick Bud up, and he nestled into my arms and proceeded to give me a two minute hug while he watched his father dance to music coming from the baby iPod. It was such a perfect greeting after a tiring day and the endless hug made me realize that I am beyond lucky to be part of such an amazing family.

Bud now has 13 teeth, he has three molars coming in, and he is getting his eye teeth, but he is being surprisingly compliant through all the new additions.

He is trying to talk more, but only if we encourage him, so far it's been car, ruff-ruff, moo, baa (what a sheep says), kaw-kaw (what a bird says), he'll snort like a pig, maaow (meow), krackar (cracker), ouwer (flower), Mama, Dada, and probably more words that I am forgetting at this point. I realize how boring this list is, and it will really only be of interest to me, oh well.

My face: officially melting

2008-06-10T12:59:00.003-04:00

I cannot believe how hot it has been these last few days. We went from having wonderful weather in the high 60's, low 70's to hell on earth. The humidity is enough to smother anyone who walks outside and I have been constantly sweating since, oh let's see, LAST Thursday. So pleasant. Not to mention I have some crazy heat rash on my feet that is itching me half to death AND I am six months pregnant. Really, it couldn't get any better.

Poor Bud has only been able to go outside in the early mornings because it is so hot by mid-morning because I would rather keep a toddler cooped up and running around inside our teeny tiny house, then suffer these devilish temperatures. I am sure he thinks I am trying to torture him, but little does he know that if we went outside I would melt into a puddle of nothingness and then he would have to fend for himself until someone found him, which, all in all, not a good thing.

Also, the air in my office isn't working, so it's a balmy 85 degrees INSIDE. Woe is me.

In other more uplifting news, my son is still the cutest thing that walks on two legs and is forever entertaining J and myself. Just yesterday he sat down on the carpet in the living room, pulled out a book, placed it in his lap (upside down), and began flipping pages and talking to himself. I nearly died from the cuteness as well as how grown-up he seemed at that moment. He is losing traces of his baby self everyday and more and more we are seeing the little boy that he is becoming. He has such a good sense of humor and loves to giggle and laugh. Yesterday evening J grabbed a spatula and put it down the backside of Bud's shorts, so he was walking around with a spatula as an erect tail. It was quite funny to watch, and at first Bud wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation, but after a few moments he really started enjoying himself. He also realized how much his father and I enjoyed this whole show, I think that encouraged him to adjust a little more quickly to a foreign object sticking out of his backside.

The evening entertainment must have had a positive affect on Bud because this morning he picked up two of his stuffed animals and motioned for me to put them down the back of shorts. Then he proceeded to do a little dance with a stuffed monkey and stuffed bear poking their heads of his shorts. I love that kid.

So...

2008-06-06T09:59:00.001-04:00

...if a person cuts off between two and three inches of hair and no one comments on the new hairstyle, does this mean:

A) no one even notices the change

or

B) the new style looks really craptastic

Keepin' on

2008-06-04T14:34:00.003-04:00

These last few weeks around our house have been NUTSO. J has been working like a dog, constantly busy with everything and barely has time to breathe, therefore, I have been trying to hold down the fort for all of us. I can be an okay fort holder downer, but at times I slip up and do not perform to the best of my abilities.

Buddance and I spent the weekend visiting grandparents down south since J was on a business trip, and we had a great time. It was a little stressful trying to pack up for a long weekend, with me being pregnant and Buddance being unable to help in anyway (if you count giving me pats on the back as help, then he was a big helper, but otherwise, not so much). The drive down went surprisingly well, and though Bud only naps for a total of 30 minutes in the car (no matter what) he was still very pleasant for the trip. We had a blast playing with dogs, running around in a huge yard, watering flowers, and exploring the house in which Momma grew up. I was so glad that Bud and I were able to get away, especially since J was gone for almost six days and it would have been r-o-u-g-h at our little tiny house trying to find new ways to entertain Bud.

While we were on our trip Bud tried saying some new words, "Water" and "Flower" were the ones I understood. He uses flower regularly now, but I haven't heard water since the first time he said it.

Baby numero two is doing well and making his or her presence known by sitting heavily on my bladder. Buddance is still pretty much in the dark as to how his life is going to change in September, but that's okay, I have a feeling he is going to be a wonderful older brother. He is such a sweet and caring child, so loving and affectionate, it is wonderful. I can only hope this tender side of Bud remains present even after he is not the only light in our lives. I am so thrilled to meet this new child, I cannot wait. Well, let me rephrase that. I CAN wait. Preferably until September 24 or after. Do all the cooking you can little bebe, we need as much prep time as possible out here.

Bits and pieces

2008-05-21T14:32:00.000-04:00

You know what’s really great? Getting out of the bed, on a bright sunny morning, your son babbling quietly and happily in his crib, and making your way to your son’s room only to stumble across the room because your hip is so sore from being inactive all night. Oh. Wait. That last part? Not so great. My hips have been killing me, let me repeat; KILLING ME, during this pregnancy and you know what? My hips? They don’t lie. I stretch them out every night before bed, I stretch them out after every run, I try not to stay seated too long during the day, but for whatever reason my hips, my right one in particular, have been being quite ornery. I wish they would stop it.

I have officially past my half-way mark and this week, today actually, marks 22 weeks pregnant. This pregnancy is whizzing by, it has gone unbelievably fast, and I am scared that if I blink, the baby will be in my arms and we still won’t have done a thing to prepare for its homecoming.

The fact that we have done nothing to prepare for this second child already speaks volumes (in my opinion) to the second child syndrome. Although, I will say that finding time to unpack baby clothes from the attic, clean out the basement, landscape our mud-pit yard, and shop for a new car all while trying to watch a pint-sized-wrestle-mania-king is really, really difficult. At the least I would like to have the basement finished, but I can’t seem to find the time to go downtown and get the building plans approved, and then there is this thing about having to create the building plans…it is all just too much for this tired, pregnant woman to manage. Although, since I am only going to get bigger, and it is only going to get hotter outside, and going out will only be harder with those two factors combined, I should get my big butt downtown pronto. Right after I finish this bowl of ice cream.

Momma's Day 2.0

2008-05-12T21:05:00.002-04:00

My second Mother's Day was delightfully enjoyable. I was cheerfully greeted by my son chirping 'Ma Ma', 'Ma Ma' from his crib as he lay there peacefully waiting for me to come in and entertain him. At breakfast M and J gave me a card personally decorated by M himself, complete with a monkey on the front, which reminds me of my son and not just because he and the monkey have the same hairline.

I got to go for a morning run and then J and I had a nice relaxing breakfast while Buddance napped. Granted, my morning runs are becoming more like morning waddles, but that is neither here nor there. I was out, moving and shaking it and that felt good. After the run I was able to take a nice long shower and then my son woke up and helped me fix my hair and my face. Granted, I was getting ready while taking care of Buddance, but the point is: I was getting ready. On the days I am home with the Bud I barely brush my hair, much less put on makeup or blow dry my hair. It really felt nice to fix myself up. I love my time with Bud, but man, I miss looking better than death on toast the days I am home.

After a somewhat rushed exit from church and a light lunch at home, we went out and met friends at a pizza place I have been eager to try. It was great to catch up with friends who we don't see all that often. They have a four month old and I cannot wait until he gets a little older so he and Bud can play together. While I love been out and catching up on friend's lives, it is really hard to relax since Bud is now constantly on the move. J and I spent most of the meal tag teaming our son, who was concerned with climbing a nearby set of stairs and pointing at people entering and exiting the restrooms.

We came home, put Bud to bed early since he is teething and sleeping like poop during the day, and relaxed on the couch. I lamented not getting a cannoli from the restaurant at which we ate and instead settled with eating chips and salsa and two bites of chocolate peanut butter ice cream. I have had some crazy sugar cravings with this second pregnancy, but to be honest, I don't think it's the pregnancy, since I pretty much always have crazy sugar cravings. I would like to be able to blame my sweet tooth on this little one doing the backstroke in my belly, but since I have had a sweet tooth all my life, I am guessing I can't get away with that.

The last moments of my day were spent trying to feel this littler duder person float around my belly. I feel s/he every so often, but nothing super strong yet. I am really getting excited to meet this kid, and lately I have been thinking it's a girl, if for no other reason then...because I think it's a girl. We shall see. During the big ultrasound I did try and study the screen to figure out if I could reuse the boxes of clothes in the attic, but really, those screens are impossible to read without a map and the technician pointing out every little line and movement. During the viewing of my second child's bladder I craned my head to try and figure out if I saw any tell tale signs of boy or girl, and at one point I thought 'Oh! Boy!' but...like I said really I needed a map and explicit instructions as to what I was viewing.

So, to sum it up: second Mother's Day? Wonderful. And next year will be even more awesome once our family of 3 1/2 becomes 4. Word.

McComplainy Pants

2008-04-09T14:07:00.004-04:00

EEEPPP! I can't believe it's been about a month since I have last written. I am reassuring myself that I am not lazy, and that being sick with the cold that WILL NOT END for two weeks is a perfectly fine excuse for staring blankly at the computer screen while trying to think of something, anything, to write.

My head has been pounding for approximately 24 straight hours now and while I partook in some lovely cold and flu medicine last night (with approval from the OB!) I am trying not to take much of the stuff, since I really want this baby to only have two arms and not three. Speaking of my two armed baby, I am finally moving beyond the stage of fuh-REAKING out about it's arrival and onto the giddy, giddy, happy, happy, oh joy stage of it's gestation. I really am excited that Buddance will be an older brother, and while the change may rock his world for a minute, I have a feeling that he is really going to like having offspring 2.0 in the house.

We are trying to teach Bud where "Momma's baby" is and I think he is actually getting the concept. I know he has no earthly idea what Momma's baby IS, but he will point to my stomach, and last night I actually got him to kiss my belly. *Swoon*.

Now, let me go back to complaining, since I can't seem to stop doing that for more than two seconds. This weekend we are driving up north to visit family and while I am excited to see everyone, I am not excited about the five-ish hour car trip. I just hope I am feeling a wee bit better by that time, because if not, no one else in the car will enjoy the trip either, and it could possibly have a little something to do with the fact that I will be moaning and wallowing in self pity the entire time because I am SICK of being sick.

A-Ok

2008-03-19T14:27:00.006-04:00

Little BOS! I love you! I am so glad you are growing, getting bigger, and that everything was okay at your appointment last week, this all makes me so happy. I am beyond excited to meet you, I can't wait to find out what your personality will be, and whether or not you will have my humor or your father's good looks.

I am still hesitant to talk about you little BOS, because this will make you even more real. Not that you aren't real already, but if I don't talk about you then I can pretend for just a little longer that I am not freaking out about where you will sleep, were I will sleep, and how we will all fit into our little shoe box once you come home. I am a wee bit stressed about the arrangements in our shoe box, but I feel confident that it will all work out, even if you and I are camping out in the backyard for a short time.

Just like that we are going from three to four. I am overjoyed!

Feed Me

2008-03-06T20:00:00.003-05:00

I am so hungry with this pregnancy, I want to eat everything in sight:

- Buddance's soggy leftover graham cracker? Check.
- All the leftovers in the fridge that are normally unappealing? Check.
- Every single snack item I have at my desk? Check. (Before 10am? Double check.)
- The entire isle of Easter candy at CVS? Check.

It is so hard to hold back from eating like a cow all damn day. So far the only thing I haven't wanted to eat is anything I actually have to fix. I have zero energy, and eating something that requires prep time just makes me want to fall asleep.

Oh, the one other thing I haven't wanted to eat? The fried rice, with garlic, my husband made the other night. The garlic smell was so gaggy that I actually had to take a shower to get the smell out of my nostrils. It would not leave and I thought I was going to die. DIIIIIIE, from the smell of garlic burning my nostrils. And I am not exaggerating in the slightest.

A list, because my brain is beyond fried

2008-03-06T19:41:00.002-05:00

- When your son decides (on his own, let me make that part clear) to reset his bedtime 1 HOUR and a HALF earlier than he had previously been going to bed, the new found free time makes your night seem endlessly long.

- When your first bathing experience of the day is at 7pm at night, it is a wonderful thing to be able to lounge in the tub and read a book. Wow, a moment like that hasn't presented itself in ages.

- The constant headaches and neck pains that have been happening are driving me mad. There are moments in the day that the pain is so intense, tears come to my eyes.

- How does one move beyond being deeply hurt by someone they love? What makes it harder is the inability to let go coupled with the belief that somehow, something will change.

- This weekend my husband and I will celebrate five years of wedded bliss. Time really does fly. That man is my everything.

Squooosh

2008-03-05T20:15:00.004-05:00

Oh my starry heavens. I am sooooo tired of sucking in my baby belly and I cannot wait until I am a full 12 weeks along next Wednesday, hear this little BOS' heartbeat and declare to the world that yes, I am indeed pregnant, and while I do have a nice layer of fat, it's BABY fat, I am not over dosing on Easter candy.

I walk around at work an uncomfortable mess of gas, heartburn, and smooshed belly. This poor kid, granted I know it's only about 5 millimeters long, but BOS has got to be wondering what is up, thinking that things weren't supposed to get this tight until the END of the pregnancy, not the beginning.

Little BOS, I love you, and I am not trying to squish you on purpose. Momma is scared to announce your presence to the world until she hears your little heartbeat whooshing with her very own ears.

On the plus side, I am still fitting into all non-maternity pants and I am one week away from being out of the first trimester. Score. (And if this is commonplace for all mothers during their second pregnancy where their children will be NINETEEN MONTHS apart, please let me just go ahead and bask in the light of my regular pants, mmmkay? Thanks. Because Lord only knows if I will ever be able to get back into them.)

I should not ever buy hot chocolate again.

2008-03-05T19:12:00.003-05:00

This morning I stopped at a gas station to get a cup of hot chocolate. I was standing in line behind a woman who kept turning around, smiling at me, shifting her weight back and forth and obviously wanting to talk to me about something, anything. I smiled politely at her, but was really not in the mood to carry on a conversation, I barely had any sleep and I was thinking about how hard it was going to be to get through the day. However, I should have engaged her in some kind of small talk, because she took it upon herself to have a conversation with me that I was NOT happy to have.

After turning around to face me approximately 73 more times, this woman decides to lean over the stack of Washington Post, grab the top paper and show me the headline.

"Did you see this? Hillary is still in the race!" She exclaimed as she shoved the paper in my face.

Oh no, she didn't. She did not just start a conversation with me about politics in a gas station coffee shop before 9am. Now, to be fair to this woman, we are in one of the most politically central areas of the country, and there are probably many people who would want to talk politics anywhere at anytime, I however, am not one of those people.

Though I was ticked, I didn't want to be rude, "Oh wow, I was extremely curious how Ohio and Texas would side, that is interesting." I smiled benignly and took a step away from this woman, hoping she might get my drift. Um. NO.

She continues on: "So did you vote for Hillary?"

WHAT KIND OF CRAZY ARE YOU? You do NOT ask a total stranger how they voted, that is rude, and for me it violated all kinds of stranger boundaries. I don't mind one bit talking about who I voted for with close friends and family, but I am not comfortable having this discussion with an absolute stranger. People in this town, on both sides, are crazy insane when it comes to political views, and I would just rather keep my mouth shut, thank you very much.

I stutter in my response "Uh...Er...Um....No." Not that it is ANY of your business.

Again, not getting the DRIFT she asked: "Oh, did you vote for Obama? I find that a lot of young people are voting for Obama and a lot of older women are siding with Hillary."

Yes. I voted for Obama, but what if I hadn't? Supposed I was backing Huckabee, or what if I wrote in my own vote for my cousin Ricky Bobby? Whose business is it? Not YOURS gas-station lady!

I just stared blankly at her, asking her to please shut up (in my mind) because she is getting on my last nerve.

"You did vote for Obama didn't you? What is it about him that is so appealing to all you young people, I don't understand."

Clearly, I was not getting away from this woman anytime soon. "Yes, I voted for Obama. I like him more than I like Hillary." I was not about to get into health care reform and NAFTA with this crazee and I was hoping my answer would make her realize that I have no desire to talk about this with you, so SHUT THE FREAK UP.

"Oh! I used to vote that way too! I voted for Bill Clinton because he was so cute, which was a perfectly awful reason to vote for him. Good thing that worked in my favor! So, I understand about voting for someone because you like them, but you'll learn, overtime you'll vote for someone because of what they represent."

Gee. Thanks for judging me. So far I have tried to refrain from judging you, but you are making that pretty darn hard at the moment. I never said I didn't believe in what Obama represented, I just said I like him more than I like Hillary. Also, in case you haven't noticed crazy-gas-station-lady, I have barely responded to this conversation, so perhaps it's not something I am particularly into. Ever think of that? NO. Because you are too interested in spewing your mouth off, and don't care if you offend someone or not.

This lady went on to lecture me a bit more about how I should vote and that Hillary has some great ideas about health care reform that we should all pay attention to. Luckily, the coffee line started moving after crazy lady's last soap box speech and I was able to move away from her, but she did manage to tell me to vote about the issues one last time. And I did manage to roll my eyes at her, but only after her back was turned, because I am a big scaredy cat.

My God. What is it with people who think that everyone around them wants to hear how they think? That drives me up a wall.

Twilight Zone

2008-03-04T12:46:00.002-05:00

Ever since we managed to get Buddance on a decent nap schedule we have included a quiet time at the end of day, this is both to preserve the sanity of the adult in the house and to prevent dinner from becoming a repeat of 'The Exorcist' complete with head spinning and green stuff spewing from pie holes. So far the quiet time has served it's purpose very well and I will note that this is not a nap time, just a time for Bud to spend a few moments in his crib, alone, and then emerge sane enough to finish his day. Dinner is usually an enjoyable experience thanks to this time and we trudge through with almost no whining or begging to be released from the high chair.

Rewind to last Friday and this is where we enter the Twilight Zone. I put Buddance down for his quiet time a little later than normal, perhaps around 4:30. Usually he would relax around 4 pm, but I think we were outside or running an errand and didn't quite stick to the schedule. However, instead of resting quietly in his crib for about 15 minutes, the Bud fell asleep, and I didn't think much of it, figuring he would wake up around 5:30 at the latest to eat dinner. Only here's the thing: He did not wake up. The entire night. It was beyond strange. He slept through dinner and slept straight through the night, waking up around 5:45 the next morning. The child had over 12 hours of sleep. It was nuts. The house felt different that entire night because Bud never showed his face again and we are used to seeing him until around 6:30 or so. But then, the same thing happened the next night, and the next, and the next.

My child is now going to bed around 5 pm every night AND is fine with skipping dinner. This is both eerie and relaxing at the same time.

I find myself stuffing food down his throat all afternoon in preparation for what could be his last meal, and I wonder if this crazy streak will continue, or if today will indeed be the day that quiet time returns to quiet time and bedtime is once again around 6:15ish. So far, quiet time has remained bedtime.

Today J and I plan to try something different. We'll do quiet time with Bud, but we'll stay in the room with him, hoping that he'll stay up and then we'll plan on putting him to bed at 6pm instead of between 6:15-6:30. Hopefully he will sleep just as long, and this would prevent him from getting up around 5:30ish. We'll see.

The other strange happening is that his morning naps have gotten longer as well. They used to average around an hour, but now they are lasting anywhere from an hour and forty-five min to two hours. So crazy.

Just as soon as I think I have something figured out Bud goes and switches it up for me. He keeps us on our toes, that's for sure. Annnnnd....speaking of keeping us on out toes: Daylight Savings time arrives this weekend just to keep things super interesting. Joy.

The Best

2008-03-02T19:42:00.004-05:00

Best Weekend in a long time.

Super tired, wanting to sleep more than anything, but must make a note that meeting your single-for-30-years-best-friend's new boyfriend, who meshes perfectly with best friend, like white on rice, is beyond awesome. I am so thrilled for BF that I am honestly trying not to emit little shouts of glee as I write this.

In other more boring news, I believe that Buddance is sick, and I may not be far behind. Duder man has gone to bed for the past several nights at FIVE in the evening. The first night it happened I freaked out the whole time, however, by tonight I am realizing that he probably doesn't feel well. DUH.

I sincerely hope we didn't pass the love birds our potential sickness after they stayed with us all weekend. I would hate for them to miss a day of making out due to an illness. Oh my freakin' heck, did I mention how cute they are together? Almost as cute as my son, but not quite.

Amazed

2008-02-29T11:27:00.002-05:00

Yesterday Bud found an empty hanger on his floor and did the first thing he does with anything he is holding; put it in his mouth. I glanced over at what he was doing, didn't want encourage him chewing on a hanger, and airly stated:

'We need to take that hanger and put it in the trashcan.' Thinking I would remove the hanger from his little hand and take it with us when we went downstairs to put in the big kitchen trashcan.

No sooner had the words escaped my lips did Buddance amble around the rocking chair, position himself between it and the bookshelf, and reach behind the bookshelf for the trashcan (I have to hide the trashcan between the rocking chair and the bookshelf or else I would be forever repeating 'Don't play in the trashcan.') with the hanger in his hand.

My jaw dropped.

I had a hard time believing that he actually knew what he was doing, but all signs pointed to the fact that he did indeed know exactly what he was doing.

What a helpful child. Training for properly stacking plates fresh from the dishwasher starts today.

Eating; toddler style

2008-02-27T13:27:00.005-05:00

I should start investing my money in toothpick manufacturers because at the rate we are going, J and I will need those suckers on a daily basis to keep our eyes open and our bodies functioning (This has nothing to do with anything I am going to write about, I just needed to state for the record that I? AM TIRED. The end.).

Lately I feel like the world's worst mother based on the fact that I rarely have any plan for dinner and wait until about 4:30 to start figuring out what to feed my family. It wouldn't be nearly as bad if J and I weren't eating dinner with Buddance, but because we decided that we should all be eating together as a family (and to help Buddance learn to eat on his own) we sit down around 5ish for our evening meal. Talk about pressure! This is about two hours earlier then J and I are used to eating and I scramble to make sure whatever we are eating is something that Buddance can eat as well. Usually, the Bud will reject whatever we are trying, but lately he is getting a little better about 'taking a bite' of the food in front of him. Last night he decided to show off for Daddy and eat several bites of Momma's sandwich, all the while refusing his own sandwich, which was the exact same as Momma's. Crazy nut.

Now that Buddance is a year old we pretty much have free reign with the foods he can eat. While this sounds like a dream and in actuality should be a dream, it is so much harder on me for some reason. Actually, I know why it's harder on me. In the months prior to open eating season there were clear dietary restrictions to Bud's diet. Now, I have to use my brain when fixing Bud a meal. I can't just pop a few cubes of frozen carrots in the microwave and slop some applesauce in a bowl, shovel it down my son's throat, and call it a day. Nope. Currently, we are at the stage where Bud needs to be feeding himself more and more, only, he has developed the attention span of a gnat, and refuses to stay in his highchair for more than five minutes without threatening to self destruct. Fun times! I am constantly worried that the child is not getting enough to eat, he is already on the low end for weight, and his fading interest in food is scaring his mother just a tad.

I will be very happy when Buddance decides that putting the food on his tray into his mouth, rather than on the floor, is a good idea.

BOS

2008-02-27T13:21:00.005-05:00

Oh little BOS, I apologize right now for the fact that I don't write about you quite as much as I wrote about your older brother when he was your age. You see, the fact that your older brother is 12 months old and into everything, rarely gives me time to jot down notes about your developing lungs, brain and heart. I promise you though, your Daddy and I talk about you everyday, and we pray for you every night. It is so amazing to think that you will be here in about six and a half months! We are dying to meet you. Right now I have no idea what to call you. I started with BOS (brother or sister), and we are careful not to reverse those letters. Sometimes I think of you as Baby Version 2.0, BV2 for short. Not finding out if you are a boy or girl makes things hard, but it also keeps things interesting.

Right now I am so tired in the evenings I can barely keep my eyes open during dinner. I am ready for you to graduate to the 2nd trimester stage, both so I can quit sucking my stomach in like mad to hide your little bitty existence and so I can have a little more energy. Well, I am not so sure the energy part will actually happen, because there is the big brother factor, and he likes to run me ragged during the day, but at least I can pretend.

1

2008-02-18T20:07:00.002-05:00

One Year Old.

What can I say that would appropriately sum up the last year? Let me start with the cliche' that it really does go faster than you'll ever believe. A year ago I had just birthed a kid after almost 12 hours of labor and I could hardly believe my body was going to allow me to survive the next 24 hours, much less the next 365 days.

Most of the past year jumbles into one big happy, crazy, tired, giggle fest; complete with baby drool and copious amounts of poo. The smiles, the hugs, the tightening of little arms around my neck, the coos, the babbles, and the kisses are all what I now need to function. I never thought my heart could hold so much love for one person, yet my son has proved to me that every day I learn to love a little more.

In the beginning I was so worried about being a good mother. I had so many fears of screwing up my child's mind, life, thoughts, being, that it took me a little while to feel comfortable in my new role. I have made countless mistakes over the past year, and I know I will continue to make mistakes as he grows older, but the mistakes are not what stand out. No, in fact, I can barely remember my mistakes. Instead I remember big toothy grins, chubby baby thighs, little fingers exploring my face, infectious baby laughs, splashes in the tub, dancing at the fridge, everything that makes my heart smile.

This past year was more than I could have imagined. Looking ahead I don't know how could get better, and yet it will. I am so excited to watch this little person grow and learn about the world around him. His discoveries are mine all over again and every day I am so thankful to be a part of his life.

Happy Birthday little one. You are absolutely divine. I love you.

Huggings

2008-01-30T11:00:00.000-05:00

Buddance has started hugging more lately, only he doesn't understand that a hug involves arms. Instead, he will give a little head-butt to whomever he wants to hug, it is hilarious. A baby head-butt, over and over again, to show his love. He's a charmer, that one.

In other news, I am very surprised at how much I am able to get done since the writers have been striking. Instead of sitting down in front of the TV, getting sucked in for a couple of hours, and trying to complete chores during commercial breaks, I have been leaving the TV off at night. Wow. There is a lot of time to do various things when I am not wasting away in front of a glowing box. Who knew?

2

2008-01-23T14:46:00.001-05:00

I took a pregnancy test two days ago and it was positive. I am elated, overjoyed, ecstatic and scared shitless. My stomach won't stay still for a second, and I have barely been able to eat since I read the test.

We decided to tell only a few people, mainly because it is so early and who knows what will happen. One of the people whom we chose to tell had a reaction to our news that crippled all the joy inside me and made me question everything about this change. I have felt sick since sharing my news, and that is NOT how I envisioned feeling.

Yes, this is a big change, and yes, we have a lot to think about, and yes, our children will be close in age, BUT YES, this is a BABY: A wonderful, innocent, soft, squishy, small gift and that makes me so happy.

Just like that, we are a family of four.

Pure torture...

2008-01-22T09:10:00.000-05:00

...but for me or for Buddance?

Yesterday I had an appointment with my OBGYN scheduled at 3:30. It was a routine appointment, nothing special, and I thought I would bring the Bud with me so J could stay home in a quiet house and get some work done. I am thoughtful like that.

We arrived at the Doctor's at 3:20. We entered the suite, signed in, sat down and I immediately began sweating. It was blazing hot in the place. I don't understand why offices crank the heat when it is so cold outside. Yes, it is nice to have a toasty space where we can warm up when coming in from the cold, but if I want to strip down to my underwear to prevent spontaneous combustion, that means it's a little too warm.

Poor Bud, I had layered him up nicely for the freezing cold temps, so it took me a little while to un-layer him. His cheeks became so flushed, I knew he was warm, and I took as much clothing off of him as possible without making it look like I was neglecting the kid. It was tempting to let him just wear his onesie, though I know people would have thought me crazy.

I had brought the stroller in with us, because I knew I would need to strap Buddance in once I started talking to the doctor, so I would not be quite as distracted. Luckily, Buddance loves playing with his stroller, and for a good 15 minutes he entertained himself by pulling on the straps, banging on the footrest and pulling on the nuts and bolts. Right about the time I thought I would get called back to see the doctor, Bud decides that is the moment to drop a deux.

So, we hustle into the bathroom, and low and behold, there was not a changing station in sight. That is so irritating. I realize that not everyone has children, but please, you would think in common places, like an OBGYN office for pete's sake, they would throw a few of those bad boys up. Okay. No changing station. That's okay. I can handle this. We enter the handicapped stall and I lay out Bud's changing mat, plop him down, and he immediately rolls over and starts to scream bloody murder. This boy does not usually fight me during a change at home, I don't know what got into him, but I pulled out his most favorite toy of the moment, his aspirator (washed out and clean!), and that settled him down pretty quickly. We did the change and I hurried back into the waiting room, hoping that I hadn't missed being called back to see the doc.

We wait a while longer, by now it is almost 4 pm and Buddance is starting to get a little more antsy. I can't blame him, I am antsy too, wondering what is taking so long. The waiting room was not that full, and people who arrived after me were being called back. Finally, FINALLY, the nurse calls out my name and I gather up all of crap (of which there was plenty) and follow her back to an examining room. Once in the room the nurse let me know that the doctor was running a bit behind schedule (you don't say?) and to be patient (insert dorky joke here).

So the nurse leaves, I don the appropriate paper napkin cover-up which is routinely provided for these visits, and strap Buddance into the stroller in preparation for the doctor's visit. Immediately Buddance starts squirming and fussing because he doesn't want to see the stroller from that point of view, he wants to be standing in front of it, examining all the parts with his fingers and mouth. Here began my attempt to entertain Bud with everything in my purse that was not lethal for babies, all while holding a napkin around my bare butt and trying to not sweat to death in an exam room that is 50 trillion degrees. Oh what a joyous afternoon.

I pulled out all the toys that I brought for Bud, one by one. He was getting bored of them pretty quickly, so then I pulled out my lip gloss tube for him to chew on, and that held his interest for awhile. (Anything of mine that I allow Buddance to chew on is a surefire hit for a least five minutes and will usually buy me a little extra time.) After the lip gloss no longer excited him I grabbed a comb and let him play with that for a little while. At last I had to break out my phone and let him open and close it approximately 59,000 times. Then, as my last resort I pulled out his Cheerio container, I was saving that little treat for him. Would you know? IT WAS EMPTY. What a freakin' dummy I was to leave the house and not check the Cheerio container. Never again.

The clock was creeping up on 4:30 and STILL no doctor. Keep in mind I was at least 25 minutes from home and Buddance starts eating dinner around 5pm. I was losing my shit, and fast. So was Bud. At 4:35, wrapped in my paper napkin, as my baby was yelled LOUDLY about being stuck in his stroller for too long, I bravely stuck my head of the exam room and asked where in the world the doctor was. I was told another five minutes and she should be there. I was so tempted to walk out of the appointment, I was getting furious.

After my desperate cry for the doctor to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY come and examine me, she finally came in the room, and then proceeded to talk to Bud for five minutes and tell him how cute he was. Yeah. Great. That is just what he wants to hear after waiting for over AN HOUR with his mother in an office that is the same temperature as the planet Mercury. I am pretty sure if he could have talked he would have told the woman to "shuttaupa your face" and I would not have bothered to correct his grammar or told him to be nice, because I couldn't have agreed more.

Ugh. The exam was super quick, as they always are, and we were out of there probably ten minutes after the doctor entered. What a horrible afternoon. I felt so badly for my son, trapped in a stroller, trying not to melt from the intense heat, with no food. What an afternoon. One I hope to never, ever repeat, as long as we both live. Amen.

Socks of the business variety

2008-01-18T18:47:00.001-05:00

Last night as J was getting Buddance ready for bed, he stripped Bud down to nothing but socks and was letting him crawl around.

I came up the stairs to see a baby standing at his gated door in the buff, except for a brown pair of camo socks, and the first thing that entered my mind?

'That's why they're called business socks.'

And I am this child's mother.

There is no hope for me.

Double Ones!

2008-01-18T09:06:00.000-05:00

Seriously. How can this be true? Buddance, you are eleven months old today.

ELEVEN.

That is one month less than a year, and that is unreal. Everyday is better than the last and each day brings a new change that makes being your Momma a little better. Your vibrant personality is emerging more everyday and the joy I get from seeing you start to understand little jokes and anticipate Daddy's tickles is beyond compare. The other night as Daddy was trying to finish some work at the dining room table, you thought it would be fun to walk up to Daddy, poke him, wait for him to look up, dissolve into giggles, quickly act as though you were going to walk away, but instead walk in a large circle back towards Daddy and start the entire process all over again.

While the above scenario took place using my fingers the entire time, there are times that you don't need to rely on me get around, but Buddance, you don't believe that is true quite yet. Lately when I ask you to "walk to Momma", you will turn around, look at me and grin, then get down on all fours and crawl over to me. This used to not be the case. A week ago I could ask the same question and you would hesitantly turn around and lunge towards me, perhaps taking a few steps in the process. We'll have to work back up your former abilities. Walking on your own is not something to be afraid of, and in fact, most people I know who can walk on their own rather like it.

Okay. So your walking skills haven't flourished as of yet, but your kissing skills have (if you read that 12 years from now I have a feeling you will be thoroughly embarrassed). As you were getting ready for bed the other evening, you stood positioned at your dresser, feet spread apart in your little baby stance, and used a drawer to hold yourself up. I sat on one side of you, and Daddy sat on the other side. All of a sudden you leaned over to me and your little mouth formed the open 'O', your sign for kiss. I gave you a kiss as requested, and then you turned to Daddy and did the same thing. Afterwards, you turned back to me and asked for another kiss, then back to Daddy, this back and forth went on for a little while longer and the whole time it was happening I wasn't sure my heart was going to be able to handle the sweetness. You are such a loving kid, and I know I sometimes give you a hard time about your constant squirming and your ceaseless energy, but I wouldn't have it any other way and inside your crazy baby body is enough cuteness to charm the pants off a pantless man, which would be no easy feat, trust me.

Oh my. I can't believe I am weeks away from writing about your one YEAR mark. These last 11 months have been some of the most rewarding, happiest, hardest, and best months of my life.

Thank you for you Buddance. Thank you. I love you so much.

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, you're such a wiggler

2008-01-17T21:38:00.000-05:00

My boy does not like to sit still for one second. If there is something to see, an object at which to point, a corner to inspect, you can bet your booty Buddance is doing just that. He could walk in circles all day and never get tired, the boy is an endless bundle of energy.

The constant movement thing would not be so bad, but even at times that I would like a little snuggle, I rarely get that. Lately I have been trying to do quiet time with Buddance in the afternoon, so he doesn't scream his head off from exhaustion when he is eating dinner. During the quiet time I'll play a soft song and hold M close to me, hoping that he will rest his head on my shoulder. Mostly he struggles to push away from me and will occasionally pull my hair, choke me while trying to stand up and look over the chair, or lunge for his bookshelf, nearly knocking himself unconscious. It just so happens that every once in awhile Buddance will forget that he supposed to be moving and rest his little body against me.

Those moments are pure bliss.

To feel my baby relax on me, nestled close to my neck, breathing with me, my cheek resting atop his head...there is nothing better. No-Thing.

In other news, I am sad to report that I think breastfeeding is drawing to a close. I am so happy to have been able to breastfeed for so long, I hope Buddance reaps the benefits of my milk for years to come. I think back to the beginning and how hard the entire process was, I was not sure that I could even breastfeed. It's almost a year later, and I am so thankful I stuck it out. I love the bond it created between Buddance and myself, and I loved knowing that for the first six months of his life he got that strong and big all because of me. That is an ego booster for sure!

As Buddance weans, I think the process will be harder on me than it is on him. I am going to miss having that time with him and being so close to him. However, while feeding the Bud used to be a peaceful time during our day, now it has become a little more, shall we say...energetic. Buddance has started treating the times that he breastfeeds just like he treats the rest of his day, which means he does not stop moving during the entire process.

Instead of the docile little baby I used to feed, I am now trying to pin down an infant wrestler and encourage him to eat. Literally, our feeding sessions remind me of something you might see on WWE if they had a version called WWIE (World Wrestling Infant Entertainment). The boy is moving all over the place, flailing his legs about, picking his head up every five seconds, swinging his arms, patting me on the head, hitting me in the face, grabbing at my lips, putting his fingers in my mouth, yanking on my hair, pulling at my shirt, and moving the entire time he eats. It's a workout for me to feed the kid!

Stay tuned for the WWIE Smackdown, in which the hero of our story, Momma, just may make a come back and reclaim her body as her own!

Baby Frankenstein

2008-01-16T14:14:00.000-05:00

My boy is walking!

Albeit slowly, hesitantly, and not as often as I would like, but nonetheless, he is taking steps on his own! It is wonderful to see the changes in his abilities over the last few months, everything is happening so quickly.

Last week I came home from work on Tuesday evening and J excitedly told me that M took his first steps from the side table to the coffee table and then from the coffee table to towards J. That evening we got M to walk between the two of us, screaming praises and squealing about the "GOOD JOB" he was doing the entire time. It was awesome.

The next day however? M decided that he was going to boycott walking on his own and much preferred to walk using either Momma or Dad's pointer finger, thankyouverymuch. That kid. He is a stubborn one. In fact, when either one of us would let go of M's hand and try to encourage him to just stand on his own, not even take some steps, he dissolved into a pile of wailing tears. M is so determined to walk using some assistance that if someone is sitting on the floor near him, he will search out one of that person's fingers, take firm hold, and start dragging the person behind him. You can bet that if you don't get up and move with him, the big fake cry and scrunch face will automatically appear, along with a back-arch and some tears if M is feeling especially dramatic.

This week M is finally back to taking a few more steps on his own. I am guessing that he is slowly realizing that he can go places on his own if he puts forth the effort. The problem is, he can only go slow and Frankenstein-like to places on his own. With outside assistance, M can quickly make the rounds through the house and inspect several things at once, but he has less control over where to go because usually the person in possession of the finger which he is holding has ideas about where they want to go as well.

Such a dilemma for such a little boy. Go slowly on his own to all parts of the house, or go quickly through house bypassing all the interesting stops because Momma needs to unload the dishwasher and put away the cereal boxes.

Double Whammy

2008-01-03T13:28:00.000-05:00

Leaving my son for the first time overnight to attend my Grandma's funeral.

Totally sucktastic.

TEN

2007-12-18T13:12:00.000-05:00

Somehow I skipped writing about your ninth month, Buddance, so, we can assume that it was a busy one. And actually, since I was there for about 95% of it, I know for a fact it was. And now? You are TEN WHOLE MONTHS OLD. You are almost grown-up at this point, or at least you want to be, with the constant shoving me or your Daddy away so you can do it yourself. The older you get, the faster time seems to go. Jeez bud, we are so close to celebrating your first birthday, unbelievable.

Since the last two months are blending together for me, let me just combine everything I can think of that happened. You flew down south to meet your Great Grandmother for the first time ever. She loved meeting you! I was worried that she may not remember me, or know who you were, but her memory remained somewhat sharp while we were there, and she enjoyed every second of your busybody visit. Also, that was your first Thanksgiving, and while we ate at a restaurant that was less than desirable for me, at least we were with family, and while they all drove me crazy, at least they are alive. :) I am such a positive Momma. Our celebration wasn't exactly how I had pictured your first Thanksgiving, but we were warm, fed, and surrounded by people who love us, so really, I shouldn't be complaining.

You started waving a little while ago and not long after you started clapping. You have been doing both for about a month now, and it is so neat to hear the clapping noises that your tiny hands make. You are so proud of yourself when you clap, and you look towards either your father or me for a nod of approval or a word of encouragement, which always makes me smile.

Your latest and greatest thing is to point at everything you can see, so that your Dad and I can see it too. In fact, yesterday we were in the food store together and there were so many things to look at, you took both hands and pointed them in two different directions trying to tell me 'Look around!'. I laughed out loud at your antics, you are a funny kid.

Right now your Dad and I are working hard to help you practice standing on your own. Only, I think you are under the impression that standing on your own two legs is a form of torture, so you are less than willing to try and stand. Your Dad devised a game 1-2-3 STAND! that works every now and then to encourage your standing, but it also makes you laugh, so that is an added bonus.

This Friday we leave to head up north for Christmas, and I am filled with excitement to celebrate our first Christmas as a family. I know you are young and won't remember a thing about the day, but there will be pictures for you to look back over and I will try my best to recall all the little things that happen over the long weekend. I am so happy you are here to celebrate with us Buddance, every other past Christmas pales in comparison to this one.

Why yes, I frequenly write letters to inanimate objects, don't you?

2007-11-29T16:41:00.000-05:00

Dear Chariot -
Hi. How are you? I am doing well. Actually, I am doing really super well, all thanks to you (and my husband, who insisted we purchase you).

You have added much joy to my everyday life. My son wishes you would roll away and never come back, but he doesn't realize that his boring ride is really his Momma's salvation and personal trainer.

My one request is that you learn how to take your own 2 ton self up our basement stairs and out the front door. For as much money as we paid for you, I think that suggestion is entirely reasonable.

Thanks!

Much Love,
Amy

Open wide!

2007-11-28T15:11:00.000-05:00

Last night we fed M avocado for the first time ever. I expected him to love it, and to eat with reckless abandon because

a. I constantly read about other babies eating avocado and ONLY avocado and
b. I love it and eat it with reckless abandon

Yeah. Not so much for M. He put the first piece in his mouth and promptly slid it right back out of his mouth. The second time he tried it I think he kept it in, but had a look of disgust on his face the entire time. All in all the whole process took forever, but he eventually ate almost half the avocado, with only a little help from his parents.

The sweetest thing about the ordeal was how badly M wanted to please us. Every time he took a bite of the dreaded avocado, J and I would get very excited while clapping and cheering, which would prompt M to take another bite, albeit very slowly. Even though he was less than crazy about the new food, he kept plugging along to please his wacky parents, it was heartwarming.

That kid is the best.

Breakdown Schmakedown

2007-11-15T12:25:00.000-05:00

The rain seemed to intensify just as I pulled into a parking space as far away as possible from Target's front doors. I sat for a second in the car, which was exactly how long it took for tears to start falling. I tried to muffle my sobs so Buddance would not hear me, but he was only inches from me, not miles, and I am sure he heard something.

'I don't even have a hood on...it's freezing cold outside...will I put M in his stroller, or attach his seat to a cart...I am really hungry...do I really need to be here right now...and why am I so upset?' All these thoughts raced around in my head, colliding and causing more upset in my already screwed up mind.

I hastily wiped my tears away, backed out of the space and drove home talking to M the entire way, trying to distract myself from my stress. We pulled up at the house and miracle above miracle: J was still there. I hurried inside, trying to keep Buddance as dry as possible and when J met me at the door and asked if everything was alright, I wanted to cling to him for dear life.

"I just couldn't do it. I got to the store and thought what am I doing? I am too tired for this" was my response. That was an unusual response for me, it is rare that I admit I am stressed, or don't follow through with errands or tasks that I have to complete.

J gathered Buddance out of his car seat, thank God, and I came upstairs and had a nice good cry on my bed. That was all I needed. For a little over a minute I sat in my room and gathered myself together, and I was better. I had to let my frustrations out and then I felt like I could face my life as a better momma and wife.

These last few days have been hard on all of us. J has been so very sick and while he did his best to take care of The Bud, I still did a majority of the work. Then there is the whole let-me-wake-up-at-four-in-the-morning-for-no-real-reason thing that has happened to Buddance for a little over a week now, which is absolutely driving me crazy. I was letting him cry it out, but was doing nothing for any of us, except making us all mind numbingly tired, so I decided to feed M for a quick period of time and try and phase that out again. So, while everyone else goes back to sleep after the 4am alarm, I don't, and I am not sure why. It's always fun to lie in bed for two hours begging my body to relax and just sleep already.

Today, during all this upset I focused on what it would be like when there are two kids in the house, not just one. Could I get up every day, do this job, and still be alive to tell about it at the end of the day? And honestly? I think I can. I am a great mom, I am really proud of the way I handle all the mundane, everyday tasks, while taking care of Matty and working full time.

There are times that I wish I had help, but then again, do I really need it? Sure, it would be nice to have a break every now and then, but I can do this! Not to mention, I would not feel right having someone else step in and raise my kid for me. Knowing me, I would want to correct everything they did, and I would hover over them, which would be an absolute waste of my time...not to mention money.

"Here let me show you how I parent. Now. Do it this way. All the time. Oh just go home, your doing it all wrong!" Yeah. That would go really well. Now, talk to me once I have more kids, and maybe I will eat my words, or at the least, try and get a break every once in a blue moon.

I love being with Buddance. He is an amazing child and goes with the flow pretty much all the time. I love everything about my life, I would not change a thing. Even the stressed out moments, because ultimately, they make realize all the things that make my life so absolutely wonderful.

You would have thought it was his last meal EVER

2007-11-12T21:37:00.001-05:00

So, apparently I have been starving my child and of course I had no idea because he cannot tell me.

Tonight for dinner Buddance ate 2 cubes of sweet potatoes and a cube of beef soup (and I say cubes because he is eating grade-A-certified Momma made food. I know! I'm a hippie!), then he had a mound of Cheerios, followed by some sweet potato puffs, and then a bowl of oatmeal, followed by another bowl of oatmeal, followed by ANOTHER bowl of oatmeal, followed by another mound Cheerios, after which came juice, and to top it all off: a cube of carrots with even MORE oatmeal. Not to mention, I also fed him right before he had this feast.

Perhaps the kid has been waking up in the early hours because he is STARVING?

I just used my mad detective skillz to figure that one out.

We shall see if tonight's meal will keep him satisfied a little longer. I thought the eating us out of house and home didn't start until he was a little older. I was wrong.

All you need is love

2007-11-11T19:50:00.000-05:00

Oh the love. Oh the kisses. Oh the love and the kisses.

The kisses that Buddance gives are super sweet. In fact, they are ridiculously super sweet. The lean forward, his little mouth forming it's 'o' shape, and his ending look that asks: 'did I do that correctly?' is almost too much for my cold, bitter heart to take. I only hope that he doesn't get bored with kisses, because that really would be too much for my cold, bitter heart to take. I need those kisses, they make my sad days happy and my happy days even happier.

And the happy days? They are more prevalent around these parts nowadays, especially since the sleeping has improved by leaps and bounds. The 11.5 - 12 hour nights are blissful, and the calm nap times are essential to me not losing my mind.

Would adding another to the brood assist in the losing of my mind?

Probably.

Do I care?

Probably not.

Ouchie

2007-11-07T20:44:00.000-05:00

You know what really hurts?

Badly?

Very, very badly?

When you get a rather large splinter jammed beneath your fingernail.

That shit sucks.

Got Sleep?

2007-11-06T21:34:00.001-05:00

Okay Buddance. I am totally rooting for you. You can do this! You can sleep through the night, I just know it. You don't have to wake up at all, in fact, I can bet that you will feel better if you actually stay asleep. Even though I will give you lots of dumb advice in your life, this is one piece of advice you can trust:

Sleep = a good thing

Also, my under eye circles will thank you tremendously if you don't yell at us around 3am.

p.s. - you looked really cute today when we unzipped your onesie, all you needed was a few gold chains and a Pontiac.

Everyday happiness

2007-11-05T13:18:00.000-05:00

We got back from a run and I am lying on the floor doing sit-ups. You are busying yourself with the vacuum, and don't pay attention to the fact that I am steps away from you, sprawled out on my back. Suddenly you hear me call your name and your head turns my way. You break into a big smile and crawl towards me. Once you reach me, your little hands grab my shirt and you slowly pull yourself onto your knees. You are so proud of your accomplishment, and I am proud as well. You are becoming a little boy and losing traces of your baby self every day. I count the number of sit-ups I do out loud so you can hear numbers and each time my abdomen crunches together you smile, because your hand, and subsequently your body, move with me. Every so often you will slap my tummy and poke at my belly button, which makes us both laugh. We watch each other in the mirror, smile at one another and then you are off, climbing over me, on to your next adventure. And though I wish I could play with you forever, I know you need to explore and learn, that is your job right now. Thanks for playing with me baby boy, you are so much fun.

Breaking my heart

2007-11-01T10:20:00.000-04:00

Oh baby boy, I am listening to you sob and cry right now because I am trying to work with you on learning how to sleep better, and I hate every second that you are upset. I love you so much and would never purposely do anything to hurt you.

True confession: I have very little training as a mother. I am learning how to do this job every day, and I learn a lot through what you teach me. I am not trying to torture you, I am trying to do what I think is right, and that is help you sleep better. I see a difference in your personality when you are well rested.

We can do this together, and as a result, we'll be all be better off (at least that is what I keep telling myself).

Thankful

2007-10-30T15:45:00.001-04:00

I will be the first to admit that I have a lot in my life to be thankful for. The fact that I got pregnant, had a healthy baby, and enjoy motherhood make up only the tip of my iceberg of thankfulness. Yes. I just typed iceberg of thankfulness. How lame. But, in my defense, I am trying some new sleeping techniques with M, because the insanity that is his sleeping schedule has GOT. TO. CHANGE. So far, the only changes round these parts have resulted in less sleep for Momma and Daddy, but we are staying positive. Which is, in my opinion, a crucial part of not wanting to chuck your screaming baby out the window at 2:17 am.

Anyhoo, perhaps if my brain can manage, I can type out a thrilling entry on sleep later on this week. Right now I am not so sure why I am even trying to come up with coherent words at this moment since my brain is on permanent mush mode. Wait...it is coming back to me...slowly...ummmm...thankfulness. Not to be confused with tankfulness, which I previously typed and have no earthly idea if that is even a word. It's officially not a word, thanks to the red squiggly line that Word bestowed below that combination of letters. Okay. Seriously. What in the hell am I even talking about at this point?

Focus! Back to the core of this entry, which at this point, there really isn't a core. I guess what I am trying (very hard) to say is that being a new parent has brought change after change to my life, most of the changes have been exceptionally good, but a few I could live without. However, the one change that I was dreading, and pretty much knew without a doubt would occur once I birthed a kid...never did.

I suffered from depression in college, severe depression. It came on slowly; I didn't understand what was happening. I lost my appetite. I started crying frequently. I quit attending classes. I stopped showering (my poor roommates). I poured a bottle of painkillers down my throat and tried very hard to swallow them, but couldn't follow through. I was hospitalized. I scared a lot of people. I got medication. I found a therapist. I slowly got better. It took intense self-examination and an extremely long time for me to talk about what I went through, what caused my breakdown and depression. I knew that I could never be truly free from depression; I just hoped that I would be able to keep it under control and realize when I needed help.

Once I got pregnant, I was thrilled beyond words. But, through my entire pregnancy the one thing looming at the back of my mind was post partum depression, and to what degree I would suffer its wrath. It still baffles me to this day, but somehow after I gave birth, I never once felt the cold, merciless fingers of depression clawing at my insides. I don't know how I escaped, since I was a prime candidate to be swallowed up into that void of sadness and confusion. Yet somehow, I made it through unscathed. Relief that depression hasn't taken its toll doesn't begin to describe how I feel each and every day. Life can be tough, I won't deny that simple fact, but it could be much tougher trying to manage everything through the haze of depression, which I have not had to do in a very long time. I can only pray that I will continue moving away from that part of my life and towards the part which encompasses baby kisses, chubby thighs, hot chocolate, good books, family hugs, and peanut butter ice cream.

Sweet Pete, life is really great and for that I am thankful.

Riddle me this

2007-10-30T11:52:00.000-04:00

How is it that I am fitting in pants that were too small for me before I became pregnant...and yet I have, for lack of better description, a gut?

That just is not fair.

8 merry months

2007-10-24T12:59:00.000-04:00

I just need to type a generic post every time M turns a month older since all I do is sit down and marvel at how quickly the time passes, gawk at how big my boy is becoming, and bask in all the fun I'm having being a momma.

My very best friend came to visit this past weekend, and it was such a joy watching her interact with M. Thank God M has yet to enter the "cling to Momma" stage; he still willingly goes to anyone and everyone who will give him a smile. Watching two of my most favorite people in the world bond was almost too much for my heart to handle; it should have exploded from the cuteness. Thankfully, it did not. The explosion actually occurred after I held our friends newborn baby girl for the first time on Saturday, she was so tiny, so weightless, and it was hard to believe that M was ever that size. Seeing the two of them in one room together, and looking at the differences 8 little months make in development, did me in. I am both eager and at the same time dragging my heels to have another baby.

While having a new little baby to fawn all over would be divine, I would then have to worry about carting said baby around, as well as my son. M is a great crawler, he is all over the place, and is pretty quick, even though he is still doing his stomach crawl. The problem is, once he crawls within a two foot radius of any person who walks on two legs, he starts grunting and whining to be picked up, so he too can walk on two legs. I love that is so excited about walking, and the delight on his face when someone holds his hands to pull him into a standing position is priceless. That being said, it is really hard to get things done when the only thing my child wants to do is walk back and forth between the kitchen and living room all day long. And? My back hurts. He isn’t exactly tall.

J thinks it won’t be long until the boy is walking on his own, J himself walked at 9 months. It will be wonderful for M to walk independently; but it also means that I will have to do actual work around the house to childproof the place. Oh. And buy a baby gate. No, that still hasn’t happened. Don’t look at me that way.

In addition to becoming more independent, M is also becoming more squirmy. It is virtually impossible to burp the child now because he is constantly turning himself around to see whatever is behind him. Basically we spin in circles as I burp him, a fun new game, probably more so for M than for Momma. But, I would venture to guess that M’s most favorite game of all right now is “Imgonnagetchoo!” created and patented by Daddykins himself. All you need is a bed, a crawling baby, and a Daddy. This game can entertain for at least 5 minutes, long enough for Momma to haphazardly throw on some clothes, brush hair, and at least pretend that she is a little concerned with her appearance.

Another thing that will captivate M for more than a mere 2.3 seconds, are Cheerios. I hate to carelessly throw Cheerios his way for the sake of getting him to stay still so I can unpack at least one bag of groceries, since I don’t want him to associate food with staying still, but it is very tempting not to do. Cheerios don’t have quite the time occupying power they used to, since M can now get all the little ‘o’ shaped bits in his piehole in record time, but they are still a quick distraction when I need one.

And while I am constantly trying to distract M so I can quickly check work email, or start dinner, or simply use the bathroom, I try not to become distracted by everyday life. I am focusing on being an attentive momma, and it is a challenge, especially when I don’t want to sit at the edge of the coffee table and watch my baby sit and stand for ten minutes without stopping, because couldn’t he sit and stand while I read this here blog post? The answer is yes. Yes he could, and it doesn’t make me a bad person for wanting to have a little adult stimulation, but I also want to remember what M’s first few months are like, and trying to do too many things at once won’t help my memory.

Asking M whether or not I should be reading while he is playing will most certainly result in an emphatic NO head shake. He has mastered this skill quite well, and is willing to display his ability every time a question directed his way. (I’m not saying he understands the question, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to answer.) J has been trying to teach M to shake his head yes, and you can imagine his response to learning that. *Shakes head ‘no’.*

The power of positive thinking

2007-10-16T14:17:00.000-04:00

Ever since M was born I have declared that he is a good sleeper. This is, for the most part true (see, I am using positive thinking even as I type this post!). We are able to put M in his crib at night and he usually goes to sleep right away, without a fuss.

(Here it comes) BUT, the chances that he will actually stay asleep all night long are slim to none. Every so often he will sleep from 8 pm until 5:30 am, and those are good nights. Lately he has been waking up and yelling at us between 10 and 11 pm, and he is yelling for what seems like no reason at all. We cannot figure out what is wrong. I feel so badly for him, and also for me, because there have been a couple of moments where I have almost lost my mind due to all the screaming. Also, I do not deal graciously with stress, and a screaming baby for an hour does not a gracious momma make. Instead the screaming seems to grind what itsy sliver of graciousness I did have into tiny shreds with every shriek, cry and whimper. I am not proud of that, and I am working VERY hard to deal with M's crying like a poised and professional mother. My first step in dealing is to remind myself that 'he is a BABY and he doesn't know any better'. Which, duh, but during the throws of crying this can be a hard thing to remember and I don't want him to learn that screaming like a wild banshee will get momma to pick him up. Sometimes I worry a little that I am being taken advantage of by an 8 month old, which really, is that such a big deal? In a way yes, because I don't want my kid thinking he rules the roost, but in a way no, because he needs to know he is loved and cared for, especially when he is so upset.

So, for awhile M was up with what seemed like teething pain, and he wouldn't stay up long, but he still was awake. Then, out of no where, he started crying out at random times, sometimes 12, sometimes 2, and (here is where I made my mistake) I would go in and try and comfort him so he could get back to sleep and so he wouldn't wake up J. Except, M wasn't learning how to soothe himself and that = problem. So now, when he wakes up at night, I think it's harder for him to get back to sleep because momma needs to be there to help facilitate the process.

Now I have realized that unless the child is screaming his head off, I should just let him whimper and cry a little in his crib and he will usually go back to sleep. It is hard though, trying to retrain myself not to jump up at every sound that comes from his nursery.

So, in conclusion, I like to say that M is a good sleeper, because I want him to be a good sleeper, and isn't positive thinking half the battle?

The long awaited BIRTH STORY, which took almost as many months to write as I was pregnant

2007-10-16T14:14:00.000-04:00

I woke up on a Saturday morning, 11 days before my due date and felt the need to clean the bathroom. And not just clean, but clean. As in scrub the floor with a toothbrush and polish underneath the toilet. (That urge to clean with such gusto should have opened my eyes to what was about to happen, but...it did not.) Once I completed all those tasks I gravitated to the baby’s room, which was still in a bit of shambles, and started going through all the papers that were left from cleaning out the office. As Jim and I sat on the floor going through old pay stubs, bank statements and mortgage paperwork, I felt a cramp grip my abdomen. At first it took a second to register what had actually happened and then I got excited because OMG! my baby is coming! Now is the time, seize the day! Sound the trumpets, roll out the red carpet, all that jazz. But then I calmed down and realized that oh, my due date is about two weeks away, that cramp I felt was most likely Braxton Hicks and I was being the typical over-reacting first time Momma. So, I went back to sorting boring paperwork on my bedroom floor and didn’t think anymore about the cramp, until the next one came. Two hours later. Yes, crazy over-reactive first time silly Momma, thinking that cramp could be real. Twas most definitely Braxton Hicks, because when I got up and moved around the cramp *Poof!* disappeared, not to mention it was TWO hours after the first cramp. And those sorts of things never happen with real time labor, get with the program woman. (I will say that I had not had ANY Braxton Hicks during my entire pregnancy, so this was all new and exciting to me.)

The day continued on and I went about my business as usual. My business alternated between lying on the couch and then waddling into the kitchen and gazing longingly at my cabinets to find a dollop or two of Nutella I may have missed in my last spoon licking fest. Clearly, I was very busy during the last few weeks of my pregnancy.

As the afternoon wound down, I decided that I would spice things up a bit and sit in my rocking chair, instead of stretching my beached whale self out on the couch. At one point I thought I should go for a swim, but then I talked myself out of it, I had swum on Friday and was worn out from the exercise, and from cleaning my entire bathroom with a toothbrush (freak). I sat down in the rocker and turned on the T.V. and low and behold, there was another cramp. It had been a couple of hours since the last cramp, but as usual, when I got up to move around, the cramp subsided.

Friends of ours, who we had not seen in quite some time, were coming over for dinner that night and Jim was making his super yummy homemade pizza dough recipe. As dinner time approached I tried my best to help Jim with what I could, but I actually had another Braxton Hicks, this one was about 30 or 40 minutes after the last cramp, and I was feeling so worn out. Our friends arrived and we stood in the kitchen catching up for a little while and helping Jim out, when lo and behold another cramp hit. It was perhaps about 15-20 minutes after the previous cramp and for a moment I panicked and thought ‘I could really be in labor!’ but then I reminded myself that first cramps are usually nothing, and I was doing this little thing called over-reacting (the theme of the day).

I left the kitchen and went to sit down in the living room. Our friends were very nice and they stayed in the kitchen to cook with Jim (and talk loudly so that I might still be included in the conversation) while I sat in the living room and tried very hard to overcome the pains that were coming closer and closer together. During dinner prep one of our friends came into the living room with me, but I could barely concentrate on what she was saying because my uterus was talking much more forcefully. There were a couple of contractions that actually forced me up out of my seat (not an easy feat at 38 weeks pregnant) and it was getting harder to get rid of the pains by simply changing position. I had very little appetite and was feeling pretty shitty all around.

Dinner was ready after a little while and it was all I could do to force a piece of pizza down my piehole. Jim gently reminded me that I should try hard to eat something because if this was real labor then I may not eat again for a really long time. I begrudgingly agreed, and managed to gag another slice of pizza down. After eating I remained in the rocker and tried to rock my pain away, and what do you know? That seemed to work! The pains that had been coming faster and harder were fading and at that point it confirmed to me that everything I had been experiencing was indeed Braxton Hicks. Our guest left after dinner and Jim and I settled down to watch some good ole Saturday night T.V.

After numbing some brain cells with two exciting back to back episodes of Cops, I managed to waste another hour watching more crap on T.V. and then finally decided to go to bed around 10:30. I slowly got ready for bed and settled down for a good nights rest (minus the several trips to the toilet) around 11. Except my baby boy (I didn’t know he was a boy then, but eight months later (slacker), I am certain he is, in fact, a boy) had other plans.

Around 1 a.m. I woke up with a start. I had another contraction that lulled me from depths of sleep and reminded me that I was not a fan of my uterus when Braxton Hicks came knocking. It took awhile to get back to sleep, the contraction was pretty painful. Finally I fell back asleep and hoped and prayed that was the last pain I would feel until my baby actually arrived. Wrong!

2 a.m. – the mother of all contractions wakes me up, and as I jolted up from the pain, I wondered why in the hell Braxton Hicks had to be so painful and why on earth they had to come so frequently. Granted, an hour apart isn’t frequent in contractionland, but come on, I was a novice and totally didn’t realize what I signed up for. I thought about trying to go back to bed, but another contraction came only about 15 minutes later and I knew that I was going to be up for awhile. Little did I realize how long…

I went into the bathroom so I would not wake up Jim and sat hunched over on the toilet to protect my weak little body from the evil contractions threatening to destroy me. I think I had one more contraction in the bathroom and then broke down and woke up Jim, because I realized that those little devils were painful and I NEEDED support. Jim woke up bleary eyed and confused, and it took him a second to get oriented, but once he realized what was happening he helped me recall my breathing techniques and stayed close by so I could dig my nails into him when the pain started, and rub my back. The contractions continued on, and being the brave solider that I am, I faced off against the contractions with my awesome breathing skills. Things were going swimmingly for about two hours, but the contractions were most certainly stronger and closer together and then the puking started. To say that was surprising is an understatement, and though we were warned about contractions that induced vomiting in our birth class, I just didn't think it would happen to me. I think I threw up around 7 or 8 times total, and each time I threw up, it became more painful. After awhile there was nothing left for me to regurgitate, so I started throwing up stomach acid. FUN! TIMES! At one point I took one sip of Gatorade in hopes that would help prevent dehydration, but as soon as the liquid went down my throat, it came right back up.

Around 5 am I decided that I needed to get in the shower and let the warm water distract me from the pain. The shower was blissful, and I remember wishing I could just stay under the water forever and not have to face anymore contractions, but that just wasn't possible. So, after what seemed like a veeerrrrylooooongtiiiiime in the shower, I emerged from the soothing water and promptly started throwing up again. Jim decided that he would call the doctor and let her know I was in labor, however it was so early in the morning that the answering service was still on and the message clearly stated that if the doctor received a call that was not an emergency there would be a fee for the call. I immediately told Jim to hang up, I did not want to be charged a fee to be told that I was in labor! I had a few more contractions, and tried very hard to practice my stellar breathing, but that was slowly going out the window.

Jim watched me contract and throw-up a little longer, and made the executive decision to call the doctor again, maybe about an hour after our first attempt? I don't remember. I do remember that I was in such pain I didn't care by then if we were charged $100 a second for the phone call, I just needed to be somewhere besides my bed, lest this baby decide to make it's grand entrance into the world. Jim was on the phone with the doctor, describing my symptoms, when everything started, and so on. The doc wanted to talk with me after speaking with Jim for a little while. As Jim handed me the phone I felt the stab of another contraction coming and I could barely say 'yes' or 'no' before having to drop the phone and succumb to the pain. The doctor confirmed with Jim that we should go ahead and leave for the hospital, and those words sent Jim into a flurry.

Jim ran downstairs and started trying to put everything together for the car, he needed to eat, so he shoved some pizza down his throat, and then rushed my suitcase and pillows out to the car, he brushed his teeth, got himself some snacks for the long wait and raced around the house at top speed. Meanwhile, I was still hanging out with my baby, who was lodged inside my body and being a big fat pain in the uterus. I could not believe that we were leaving for the hospital and that in a short time I would meet the kid who was residing inside of me for the last 9 months! I started to get really eager, and I let out a cry of excitement, which prompted Jim to yell and see if I was still alive. I suppose in my current state, a 'happy' cry and an 'in pain' cry sounded much the same. Jim flew up the stairs to make sure the contractions hadn't killed me and then hurried me out the door into the car. We were on our way!

While in route to the hospital I started feeling queasy again. Luckily, it was early on a Sunday morning, so when I asked Jim to pull to the side of the road so I could vomit, there was not a lot of traffic on the road. I remember Jim asking me if I was serious about pulling over, as if he didn't believe his wife, who had just thrown up the entire contents of her stomach and more, could possibly throw-up anymore more. It surprised me too, but who was I to argue with this baby? I puked (theme of the day) and then we resumed barreling down the highway to the hospital. Jim pulled into the garage, parked (I wanted him to be with me when I walked into the hospital) and started unloading my bag and pillows from the car. We were about to walk across the lot and out of the garage when the mother of all contractions hit me and I could not stand up. I bent over in pain and Jim kept persistently trying to remind about my breathing, which: Thank you very much and shuttupa your face. I thought at one point I would have to crawl through the doors of the hospital. Thankfully, that did not happen.

Jim had to check me in, and after what felt a lifetime, we were finally allowed to go upstairs to the labor and delivery floor. The whole time Jim was checking in at the main desk I sat on a nearby chair and clutched a pillow around my mid-section. I remember trying to breathe, and by this I do not mean "practice my breathing techniques", I mean simply BREATHE because it seemed as though this labor was killing me slowly. We took the elevators up to the delivery floor and went to a second desk to check in, the triage area. We sat down and watched as three different nurses ignored us and I wondered what I needed to do to get the attention of someone, anyone, on this floor. Were flashing lights and a neon sign required for an intake? I had inadvertently left mine at home during our rush out the door, please excuse my hastiness, but nevertheless, COULD ONE OF YOU PLEASE NOTICE THAT I AM IN LABOR AND NEED A FUCKING INTAKE? Thanks.

Finally a nurse looked at me and asked me to come on back so they could check me out and find out far along I was. Considering it took me about five minutes to get up out of the chair, because I was IN PAIN, I'd say I was pretty far along. Only that's the thing. I wasn't. I changed out of my clothes, and into a paper sheet designed to only cover half of my body, and expose copious amounts of flesh to innocent bystanders should I turn the wrong way, then hoist myself onto the examining table. The nurse strapped various belts to me and we learned that I was 4 centimeters dilated. What? That cannot be right. I was already two centimeters dilated before I went into labor, and you mean I have been laboring for almost SIX hours and have only gained two centimeters during that time frame? Labor blows.

At this point everything becomes a little more fuzzy because of the equation:

PAIN = MEMORY LOSS

I was wheeled down the hall to a labor and delivery room and asked if I wanted an epidural. For a long time I wanted to believe that I could sail through labor without and epidural, that I would not need to sequester my pain because I was going to stare down labor and would not be beaten into submission by pains my uterus was emitting. I was young and foolish, and also, foolish. When the nurse asked if I was going to get an epidural I cast my eyes away and whispered "Yes". I was sad that my uterus had taken over, and had beaten me into submission at a mere FOUR centimeters. But, pain was pain, and I couldn't take it anymore. I was told I would need to wait a little longer for the anesthesiologist to come and give the epidural. Jim tried his best to distract me, but I just lay on the bed wishing I could sleep, breathe, leave, do anything but be on the bed. Finally, after what felt like eons, the anesthesiologist arrived and hooked up the epidural. It took about 20 minutes for the pain to start subsiding, but after that, I was a new woman. The epidural was given to me around 9:30 or 10? I think.

And! When I finally did get the epidural, I was 6 centimeters dilated! I made it further than I thought I would, and while I didn't make it all the way through labor without drugs, I was proud of myself for making it that far.

After the epidural kicked in I was able to relax for the next hour or so. Jim and I rested in the room and nurses came in every so often to check my progress and see how I was doing. I had to get a Pitocin drip, which meh, didn't bother me at all. Around noon I told Jim that I felt my contractions start to pick up and become more intense. I called the nurse in and she confirmed that I was 10 centimeters dilated. WOO HOO! My doctor came in and she told me that I would soon be able to start pushing, the were going to monitor me a little more just to make sure that everything was okay.

My doctor came back in the room, still dressed in her regular clothing, which was surprising to me because I thought she would don scrubs for the occasion. (She did, but not until the baby was almost out.) The nurse trained me about how to push, three long pushes for 10 seconds each, and then the festivities began! I began pushing and in between pushing I would talk with my doctor, the nurse and J. We talked about how I ran a marathon, and made comparisons between running and childbirth, we talked about baby underwear, we talked about a lot of things. During the beginning of my labor I thought, this is a piece of cake, this should take no time at all. Only, I was very wrong. After pushing for what seemed like an eternity, my doctor told me that I was getting closer, and she was going to put on her scrubs after I went through another cycle of pushing. Only, I went through about five more cycles of pushing and she didn't put on her scrubs. By this point, I was tired. I tried not to look at the clock at all, because I didn't want to get discouraged, but I had been pushing for about an hour.

And so, the pushing continued. And I became more and more tired. Perhaps scrubbing the bathroom on my hands and knees the morning before was not the best use of my energy. Silly me. At some point in time the top of the baby's head emerged, but I don't know how long I'd been pushing at that point. (J later told me that it was so bittersweet, because the top of the baby's head emerged when I would bear down and push, but then the head would slide back inside after I stopped pushing, so it was as if no work had been done at all and I was starting all over again with each push. Luckily, I had no idea this was happening, because I probably would have been a little aggravated that this was happening.) After awhile my doctor said AGAIN that she was going to put her scrubs because the baby was almost out. I should have known she was lying, but in my delirious state, I got very excited. What my doctor MEANT to say was: "Push for another 45 minutes and then I'll put on my scrubs and your baby will arrive."

After I had been pushing for an hour and 45 minutes my baby finally decided that it was time to break free. I remember the doctor telling me to push in conjunction with a contraction, and then she asked me if I had enough strength to push again immediately after I was done pushing. I didn't know if I could do it. I was tired, worn out and wanting to be done. But...whaddaya know. I did it! My baby's head emerged, and I was fully ready to keep pushing and huffing and puffing (because a doctor friend of ours said that pushing out the shoulders is often the hardest part of birth) but, that wasn't the case. The baby came out quickly, and J looked at me and declared "It's a boy!" and then before I knew it he was in my arms and I gave a yelp of surprise, because it all happened so quickly once his head came out. I just laid there, dumbfounded, and completely and totally in love. He was here. He was finally here and life was perfect.

I got to hold him for a little while, then he was taken to another part of the room to be weighed, etc, while the doctor put me back together. He was so tiny, so small, and I wanted nothing more than to be able to protect him forever and ever. Good gracious I love that boy. He is, without a doubt, awesome.

(Oh my holy heavens, this took me FAR too long to write. If I am able to have more children, I do hope to document their births as well. However, it may take me years to write about those births, seeing as how I only have ONE child right now and this took me eight months. Am slow.)

Snippets

2007-10-12T16:35:00.000-04:00

- M got a flu shot yesterday, he yelped as the needle was coming out, and then looked over and gave the nurse a big ole grin.

- After thinking about it for quite some time, I have decided I am not high maintenance, like J claims. There are days that I barely remember to put on deodorant, I buy makeup once a year, and I only just now learned that people with straight hair can use straightening irons to help their hair look better. Who knew (besides everyone in the world but me)?

- I feel extremely sorry for my breast, which are being shoved into bras that fit SO poorly. I keep reading that some of the most fundamental pieces of clothing are good fitting under garments, so I am going to try and remedy this as soon as possible.

- I am seriously wondering if M is okay, he has spit up no less that 600 bazillon times in the last two days.

- Fall weather is finally here, thank GOD, I can't stand the heat.

- There are some people in this world I will never, ever understand, no matter how hard I try.

- Why are the most dangerous things so intriguing for babies? M is attracted to plastic bags, dangling cords, electrical outlets, and a slew of other items that are not exactly 'baby friendly'. I think it's wonderful that these things are actually holding his interest for more than 1.3, so I let him play with them whenever it strikes his fancy. Oh, I jest. He only plays with them under adult supervision, of course.

Stand in the place where you live

2007-10-10T17:26:00.000-04:00

Matthew has started pulling himself up when he is in his crib. As in: PULLING HIMSELF UP.

Another definition: Standing. Alone. By himself.

He does this quickly, without any problems, and then stares at me overtop his crib railing, waiting patiently for me to clap and get excited. And yes, I am thrilled that he learned this skill, and especially that he mastered it so quickly. However, I would have preferred for him to learn it when he was older, like 5 or 6. That way, I wouldn't have to worry about him standing up and I could continue to put him in his cage for safe keeping and not stress out about he is trying to escape from said cage, and I really do mean crib.

My kid has also mastered the army crawl quite well; he can motor all over the place in no time at all. Currently his favorite crawling path is from his room to our bathroom. This is all fine and dandy, except this particular path takes Matthew by the stairs of death, for which we have no gate (GASP!). Unless me standing at the top of the stairs, telling Matty not to come near me counts, then we have a gate.

Really it is amazing how quickly Matthew has mastered the stomach crawl, so I am guessing it won't be long now before he is up on his hands and knees moving around, which will only perpetuate me singing even more bad 80's songs. Right now my song of choice is compliments of Sister Christian, and though I only know a few words, you can pretty much guarantee that I am singing it all damn day.

You're motoring
What's your price for flight

Good times. I have a fabulous singing voice. I promise.

In other news: what is up with my hair post baby and will I ever be satisfied with it? Granted it finally stopped falling out every time I took a breath, but what's left is well...deflated...limp...not shiny. Basically I feel like I look very raggedy all day long. I yearn for shine, for smooth, luscious locks. I need serious hair intervention that does not involve clippers and a buzz cut.

A little or a lot crazy?

2007-10-09T16:08:00.001-04:00

Am I losing my mind because I am thinking more and more about using cloth diapers? Jim keeps talking about it, and I keep pretending that I didn't hear him, because cloth? Seriously? No thanks.

But the more I think about it, the more I am willing to try it. I need to do some serious research, because I don't know the first thing about cloth, covers, how to clean them, etc. But maybe... just maybe I can make this work and help the environment while helping our wallet. Who knows. Or I can just completely gross myself out, either way, it will be a fun experiment!

Cheerios, boogers, and teeth (not in that order)

2007-10-02T16:13:00.000-04:00

During the last few nights (i.e. the earliest part of morning when all normal people are still asleep) when Matty cries out I have just ignored him. I didn't so much act as though he didn't exist, I just didn't rush into his room after his second or third cry. I truly think this has helped the situation immensely. He is old enough to be able to soothe himself, and if he truly became arm flailing, non-stop sobbing upset, I would be right there at his side to soothe him. But, the glorious thing about me pretending that he isn't making any noise? He has been somewhat going back to sleep. I say somewhat, because he still likes to make a bunch of noise, just so I know he's there, but then after his noise making session, all is quiet for another hour or so. My new best parenting tip: Ignore your kid, it'll do wonders for your under eye bags!

While my eye bags may be a little less severe, the number of times my heart stops beating per day has increased, due to the fact that my boy has started to pull himself along on the floor and grab onto whatever he can wrap his chubby fingers around. I am beyond thrilled that he is moving around on his own, but would like very much for him to listen to me when I politely explain that the top heavy oscillating fan, which is not secured to the floor in any way, shape, or form, is not a chew toy for babies. He just doesn't seem to be listening to me, since the fan is the main thing he tries to put in his mouth when we are in the kitchen. Well, that, and the dirty throw rugs that get washed about once a year. I just tell myself: the more he chews on the rugs, the less sick he will be in the months to come because those rugs probably hold every germ from 2005 to the present inside them.

Although, perhaps chewing on said rugs contributed to Matty's snotty nose and stuffiness. Jim and I have been on booger patrol for the last week now, and poor kid, I feel so badly for him, but he doesn't seem to getting any better. Actually, it wasn't the rugs at all that made him sick, this I know. We visited some friends about two weeks ago and Matthew decided that putting every single toy they owned in his pie hole was a very good idea. Since I am nothing if not alert, I didn't realize he was making out with these toys until it was too late, and by then the damage was already done. Far be it from me to interrupt a make out session, (especially one that involved toy cars, of which Matty has none) so I sat back and let the debauchery continue. It was only after the snot started oozing from Matthew's nose at an alarming rate that I realized: 'Hey. Chewing other kid's toys is not recommended and this is why. Duh.' Well, what's done is done and now I just hope that his Royal Snottiness feels better soon. He doesn't act like he's feeling bad, he just has constant drippings from the middle of his face, which really isn't that cute. Go figure.

One last report on the boy: Two new top teeth! With another one on the way! He'll have as many teeth as he does fingers on one hand. Amazing. We gave him cheerios for the first time last night and you would have thought we were trying to poison him according to the look on his face when a cheerio passed through his lips. Jim and I couldn't help but burst into laughter at Matty's expression, and he tried so hard to get rid of the cheerio nastiness, only to have it fall out of his mouth and stick to his lip, then his chin, then his bib. Trust me, it was funny, and not just because I need to get out the house more often.

No sleep 'til Brooklyn

2007-09-25T13:57:00.000-04:00

I don't get enough sleep. I know this for a fact, and yet I am doing nothing to change my situation. Part of my resistance to go sleep when my baby goes to sleep is my burning desire for some meeeeeee! time. Even if my 'me time' consists of me cleaning up dinner, making lunches for the next day and wiping down the kitchen for the one billionth time that day. My desire to stay up has more to do with the fact that I can do a few things around the house without another person attached to me than it does with actually taking care of myself. I know I should be in bed earlier, but it is nice to spend a few hours awake not having to cater to every whimper and cry of a small, yet demanding person.

However, I must get more sleep. Yesterday I found myself at my wits end with my son, to the point that it was scaring me a little. Matty was fussing last night, and refusing to take his end of the day nap, the one which gives me some down time and allows me to start dinner, etc. He wouldn't go to sleep. I was getting so frustrated with him and then I was getting frustrated with myself for getting frustrated with him. Fun cycle. What made it worse was my lack of sleep.

Every night I think, tonight will be different, tonight I'll go to bed earlier. But then, I have this teeny tiny hope that maybe tonight will be the night that Matty doesn't wake up at 4 am for no reason at all. I can't base my sleeping habits on the hopes I have for my 7 month old son. That's ridiculous, and yet, I keep hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'll surprise me and start sleeping through the night like he did when he was three months. Ahhh...too bad that only lasted two weeks. It will be a joyous night when both my son and I can sleep without waking up and crying.

Wha' Happened?

2007-09-20T21:37:00.000-04:00

For the last two months my son has gone to bed without so much as peep. We go through our usual bedtime routine, and when Matty is finally plopped into his crib while being serenaded by the Dixie Chicks, he rolls over, sticks his bosse in the air, and starts sawing logs. That was until Sunday night...when apparently all that was good went bad.

For some reason Matthew has started screaming now during his song, and for a good five to ten minutes after the song has ended. Tonight he screamed longer than ten minutes, I just stop paying attention after ten minutes (to the time, not to the child, though maybe I should think about reversing my tactics). This nightly regimen of screaming begin after we returned from the beach, and at first I chalked it up to being a readjustment phase, but now I'm thinking it's my child who actually needs readjusting. I need to tweak him back into his old self who would embrace his crib. So really - Wha' happened? What gives kid? I would love to figure out something that would calm him down, instead just standing there as he screams his head off, silently willing my child to shutupfortheloveofGod, because for some reason that isn't working.

If I block out how the day ended, and only think about the actual day parts of the day, everything else was wonderful. We had a pretty relaxing time together, which was nice because I am usually trying to get several things done, work from home, and spend quality time with my baby. Today was different. I did some work, then we went on a nice walk and stopped and played on a playground (Matty didn't seemed phased at all by the awesome slide we went down, but we kept going down it nonetheless and it had nothing to do with the fact that I thought it was awesome. Nope. Nothing.). After our walk we came back home and played with blocks, a large blue elephant with various things glued to his elephant, and momma's hair.

The funny thing about today was Matthew would not open his mouth all day long except to eat food and to chew on multiple things. I could not get that child to give me an open mouth smile to save my life. I took some adorable pictures of him while we ate dinner, but all with his mouth closed, smiling with his lips pursed together. Then when Jim got home Matty broke out the big grins. He giggled, laughed and smiled so much for Jim, and became so hyper in the tub that the entire right side of my body was soaked from excited splashes. He saved all those grins for his Daddy, it was the greatest thing to witness, I wish I had broken out the video camera. All day I thought 'Matty must be feeling a new tooth coming in, and that is why he is pulling his lips together', but no. Matty just needed to be reunited with the one person who can make him smile just by looking at him: Papadapalous.

P.S. - Matthew, even though you rock the cuteness on daily basis, PLEASE go to bed nicely tomorrow night. Your cuteness will only get you so far, especially if the person who thinks you are so cute and who takes care of you for most of the day (hint: me) is brain dead from hearing baby screams at the end of a long day. Also, if you went right to sleep I could stop with the lame 'wha happened' jokes (the only part of 'A Mighty Wind' that stuck with me). (Actually no, that stopping with the lame jokes is a lie. But still. Quit with the screaming. MMMkay?)

Teeth

2007-09-18T13:46:00.000-04:00

Before I forget: Jim named Matty's first two teeth Chopper & Chopper Jr., and it cracks me up every time I hear those names.

I really wish I wrote here more than once a month

2007-09-18T12:57:00.000-04:00

Seriously, where does the time go? Everyday I think "I need to write about this so I don't forget" and everyday passes and I don't write.

Well, since most of my updates occur on significant dates, why should today be any different? Matthew is indeed 7 months today and according to my meager calculations this puts him closer to being one year old. Holy timegoesfast Batman.

We just returned from a week long vacation to the beach where Matty was less than pleased to be sunning and funning on the sand. It was only towards the end of the week that our little man decided putting both his feet in the water at one time did not equal the end of the world. I got several hilarious pictures of Matthew pulling his legs up at the touch of the ocean water; beach bum he is not. Well, at least he got to experience something completely new, something that totally exhausted him by the end of the day. He slept really well while we were gone, and I think it was mainly because he was so overwhelmed on the entire trip. From the new sights and sounds, to housing with super talkative and energetic family, there was always something new happening during the week.

When we returned from our not so vacationy vacation, (Jim had a lot of work to do and wasn't around, which bummed both me and Matty out) Matthew promptly began teething again. I think he celebrates turning one month older by getting new teeth. Poor kid, he has had a HARD time falling asleep lately because of the pain. He is constantly pulling on his ears and the pain is waking him up at night. I feel so badly for my boy. My father is up watching Matthew for the next few days since Jim is so busy with work, and this morning as I was leaving Matty was both extremely tired and in pain. I rocked him for a long while, and then passed him to my father, so I could get ready for work. Going from my arms to Grandad's arms woke Matty up a little, and as soon as he realized that I was no longer holding him he began screaming again. He woke himself up, saw Grandad's face and was instantly angered. I tried leaving the room before he saw me, but I wasn't fast enough. Matty twisted around, saw me standing there and reached out his arms for me, sobbing uncontrollably. My heart broke, but at the same time it soared. This was the first time that my baby has ever reached for me. I felt so badly for him and wanted nothing more than to scoop him back into my embrace and hold him close, but I knew that Grandad would be able to comfort him. I stayed present and rubbed my baby's head for a little while, since he had already seen me, and that seemed to help calm him down. Leaving for work was especially hard today, however when I checked in about an hour later the report was that my baby was back to his smiley, amicable self.

Currently Matthew's sounds of choice consist of screeching at the top of his lungs and coughing over and over again. The screech is a mix between a high-pitched gurgle and a pterodactyl call. Soothing? No. Highly entertaining? Yes. Also it seems that 7 months means beginning to crawl. He doesn't quite have the skill to put everything together and actually move forward, but he is oh-so-close. He will pull up on his knees and hands and start to rock back and forth. He is also skilled at sliding himself along on his stomach (albeit very slowly), and he can roll like no body's business. This child has a ton of energy and wants nothing more than to explore every inch of the house and everything that comes within fingertip distance gets grabbed, be it hair, faucets, glasses, toes, mail, etc. It is wonderful to see this little baby become so active and interested in the world, I love learning about things from his perspective.

Happy 1/2 year little man!

2007-08-22T11:16:00.000-04:00

Oh Matty boy, you are six months old! Do you know how much fun you are becoming? Such a smiley guy. I love being with you and watching you marvel at the world around you. You get so excited when something new is presented to you, your mouth opens widely, you kick your legs, and reach as hard as you can with your arms to grab whatever new item has caught your attention. Your joy is contagious, thank you for bring such happiness into my life.

You had your six month appointment today, and holy cow Matthew, you are one tough cookie! The nurse came in to administer your 4 shots and I prepared you for the pain by wrapping my arms around you and holding you as close as possible. As the first shot penetrated your little thigh, you flinched, but didn't make a sound. The second shot came quickly after the first and it made you whimper a little and kick your leg, but as your Dad stated, it seemed as though you were thinking 'what is this annoyance and why does it keep happening?'. The nurse applied a band aid to your left ham hock and then quickly stuck your right ham hock with the other shot. At this point you were getting angrier and you started fussing, but not screaming. By the time the last shot was given you were crying more openly, but as soon as the band aid was on I swooped you up close to my face and started to shush you, and lo and behold: you shushed. Little man, you only cried for about 3 seconds; that was simply amazing!

We learned today that you are in the 90th percentile for height and only the 50th percentile for weight. The equation can be broken down as such:

string bean + cottage cheese cheeks = Matthew

Right now you have such a social personality and I hope that you keep that outgoing nature forever. You have a smile ready for anyone you meet, though sometimes it takes just a little coaxing to come out. Since Momma is somewhat of an introvert, and your Daddy was a little shy guy, it surprises me that you are so willing to flash your two pearly whites all the time. I know that things may change and you may become a little more hesitant around strangers, but right now it's great that you grin no matter what the circumstances.

And yes, in case you were wondering, your little ham hocks are delicious. I love to eat them with a side of baby toes. Muy bueno!

Bottom lip chewer

2007-08-14T11:47:00.000-04:00

Matthew has now discovered that he has a bottom lip and he loves to chew on this lip. The face he makes while chewing is priceless, a combination of 'deep in thought' and 'old geezer man'.

Mr. Sandman is apparantly on vacation

2007-08-08T11:39:00.000-04:00

My boy has decided that naps are no longer necessary and instead likes to vigourously rub his eyes and roll around in his crib (screaming occasionally), for approximately an hour and a half, give or take.

*Mr. Sandman: GET YOUR BUTT BACK TO OUR HOUSE PRONTO.*

He loves me

2007-08-03T12:26:00.000-04:00

It is really hard going out at night now that there is a 17lb person in our lives (that statement deserves a big 'no duh'). The other night we ventured out for ice cream with friends and it was literally a race against the clock to eat our ice cream, socialize for more than 3 seconds and get Matty home and in bed at a decent time. As Jim says: 'Now I understand why people who have kids disappear, it's all about the kid's schedule.' Never a truer statement was uttered. I used to think how I wouldn't be one of those disappearing parents, I was still going to go out, still going to socialize, still going to have people over for dinner. Now? I can't imagine a more nightmarish situation. {Excuse me while I eat a nice big slice of humble pie.}

Putting Matty to bed can sometimes end up being a bit...tiresome. Most nights he goes down easily, without too much fuss. However, there are the nights that turn into Screamfest 2007, and those are always a little (heh, heh) more challenging. Apparently last night was a screamfest, but thanks to the awesomeness that is my husband, I didn't have to attend. Friends of ours were going out to a comedy club, and Jim insisted that I go with them and join in the festivities. It was such a good time, I had a blast while I was out and while I missed my boy so badly, I also relished in the fact that I was not constantly checking my shirt for baby throw-up or doing my best to figure out why my 5 1/2 month old is screaming his head off when he should be sleeping. I love my husband, he really is the best.

Hitting the slo-mo button

2007-08-01T13:10:00.000-04:00

I swear all I did was blink, maybe I blinked for a second to long, but when I opened my eyes everything seemed different. My boy can roll over now, and he has started sleeping on his stomach at night (insert Alleluia chorus). He has started to eat rice cereal, once a day and today we are adding another serving of the gloopy goodness. It seems very likely that he will soon sit up on his own, and I swear he looks bigger this morning than he did last night. I completely understand why people say the first year passes by in the blink of an eye, because I'm pretty sure it was just yesterday that I was wondering when this kid was FINALLY going to fit into a 3 month sized onesie. (In case anyone wonders (um, probably not, but anyway), the child is wearing 9 month onesies, so really I shouldn't have worried.)

There are moments I try and seer into my mind, like the times I am giving Matty a bath and the way he kicks his little legs, and purses his lips together with total concentration. Or like this morning, when Jim was holding him, they were sitting at the dining room table and Matty reached out with extreme determination and grabbed the toy that was in front of him, without dropping it on the floor (I am submitting his application to America's Got Talent as I type this). And just yesterday I had Matty on his little play mat in the kitchen while I was fixing something and realized that I needed something in the living room. The child was on his back when I left and when I came back he had rolled almost all the way off the mat, much to my utter surprise. He was absolutely FINE, though he seemed a little surprised at himself.

Let's see. What other bits of information that are only exciting to momma or daddy can I write about? Matthew is obsessed with watching either Jim or me take a drink. In fact, Jim has started letting Matty take sips from a cup to get him used to drinking. There are times when I am feeding Matthew and he will sneak his finger into his mouth at the same time he is eating. I look down and realize that my boy is trying to maximize his potential by doing double duty sucking, and when I take his finger out his mouth he happily goes back to nursing. Really, the whole process is quite endearing, and makes me realize my son is even cuter than I thought possible.

The days are passing by way too quickly, and yet I am excited for each new day that I get to spend with Matthew. Life is good, even if there is no slow motion button.

A few of my favorite things

2007-07-20T09:38:00.001-04:00

- Watching Matthew's father read him stories. Matty will sit on Jim's lap, lean back and rest against Jim, and listen intently as Jim describes what the brown bear brown bear sees. The scene is so full of love and warmth, it could make even the coldest heart turn warm and gooey.

- The connection between Matty's hand and mouth. It does not matter what the object, as soon as Matty wraps his little hand around something, his mouth automatically opens. Whether he grasps a rattle, a book, hair, a washcloth, or momma's finger, his little mouth opens up and he does his best to shove said object into his gaping hole. Seeing him do this never fails to make me smile.

Slap me silly, are you REALLY five months?

2007-07-18T10:51:00.000-04:00

Baby boy!
Today is July 18. This means two things: It is hot as balls outside today, (I can say this right now because you don't understand what I mean, and when you look back at this ten years from now I can say that I was referring to beach balls because of the sweltering, smothering heat, I am crafty.) and you are five months old!

To celebrate this milestone in your life you decided that yesterday was a fine day to cut a tooth. Yes little man, your first tooth is coming in the bottom middle of your gums, and you have not been a happy camper about the whole situation. In fact, I think you have confused celebrating getting a new tooth with screaming loudly and angrily for long periods of time. Just so there is no more confusion: Screaming loudly and angrily is NOT the same thing as celebrating. Now that we have cleared that up: Matty boy - I am so excited that you are getting a tooth! I can't believe that you are old enough to be getting teeth, but I know soon I will be saying I can't believe you are old to drive a car, and you will blatantly roll your eyes at me, snatch the keys from my hand, and merrily skip out the door.

July has been a busy month for us so far. We flew to Texas to visit family in the beginning of July and you did really well on the take offs and landings. You cried at times on the planes, but it was such a long trip, and the overhead storage isn't that roomy, so I understand why you were upset. There is no leg room in those overhead bins! Oh, I jest. You had the luxury of stretching out on momma's lap and then switching to Daddy's lap when I got too boring for you. Your cuteness wowed many travelers and people were astounded to learn you were only 4 1/2 months old, because you are SO FREAKING LONG. Seriously, you are such a long kid, there isn't one ounce of extra fat on your body, it is amazing. You are fitting into 9 month clothing, I am in awe, and have refused to believe how big you are. Sorry I keep stuffing you in 3 month onesies, I am stubborn and hard-headed at times, which your father can attest too (his head vigorously nodding as he reads this).

Lately you are still waking up at night, though I am becoming encouraged that you will soon stop that madness. For the last month or so you have been waking up at 2 am and then again around 4:30. We could usually get you to calm down at 2 with the pacifier, but by 4:30 you wanted to eat again and it was all I could do to stretch you until 5 to eat. Last night you didn't wake at 2 at ALL (happy happy joy joy!) and when you woke around 4, I thought you would demand to be fed. However, your Dad (bless his heart) got up periodically over about an hour's time and soothed you each time you fussed, and then you fell back asleep until 5:50. Not eating at the crack of dawn is a big step for you little man! I was so happy that I didn't have to fed you at 4:30 or 5. I would be even more happy if this trend continued from here on out. (Hint hint.)

This weekend we head up north for your cousin's birthday. We are not making this trip to screw with your schedule, but because it will be fun to see family. I want you to remember that when you are trying to nap at Gram's house, because Lord knows if Matty ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. I love you Buddance, even with the screaming and the copious amounts of poop you have left on me in the last couple of days (confidential: daily diaper blowouts aren't cool). I wish there were more ways to tell you that I love you, just so you know: no one can ever take the place you have carved in my heart. Ever. At all. Never. No way. The end.

Magical Momma Moments

2007-06-20T15:45:00.000-04:00

1) While I was feeding my baby boy, I quietly whispered in his ear how much I loved him and how much he means to me. We were nestled snugly in the rocker in his room, it was a peaceful afternoon and we were both relaxed and comfortable. I continued to whisper softly and at one point Matthew stopped eating and looks up adoringly. I paused with what I was saying and waited to receive the sweet grin for which Matthew is famous, but instead he answered my sweet nothings with a long, loud fart. He hesitated, looked at me once more, farted again for good measure and went back to eating.

2) When I got home from work after a long day I was excited to hold Matthew and shower him with kisses. I ran in the house, was in the process of putting my bag down, and had not yet said hello to my boy. I approached Matty's bouncy chair and leaned over to greet Matty as his father pulled him up out of the chair. With a giant goofy grin on my face I cooed "Hiiii sweet boy" and waited for Matthew to realize his momma was home. The words were barely out of my mouth and suddenly Matthew responded to my greeting with the wettest sounding poop explosion I have ever heard.

Welcome home momma!

4 months

2007-06-19T10:06:00.000-04:00

Dear Matthew,

How is it that you are already one third of a year old? Didn't your father and I just bring you home from the hospital? What happened to the little boy who was the length of my forearm? Where is the baby who stayed asleep longer than he stayed awake? I can't believe those days are just memories now. You are changing at an alarming pace and while I can't wait to learn more about you, I am sad that I only have memories of your first months here (because, let's be honest, my memory isn't all it's cracked up to be).

When I look at the photos of you on your first day of life I see many similarities to the baby you are now. And while the similarities are there, what is even more striking are the differences. Your cheeks are so full and plump, your eyes are the brightest blue, your hair is growing longer, your body has fattened up and you smile all the time, it is wonderful to see how much you have grown.

Matthew, just recently you started to roll over on your stomach at night. While your Dad and I are thrilled that you are learning to roll over, we wish it wouldn't happen at night, when you are semi-swaddled. I only wish that you would learn to roll back over as quickly as you are learning to roll on your tummy, that would help alleviate the small stroke I have when I enter your room at 3am and see you sleeping on your stomach, face down. Let me also report on other news that makes my heart race, but in a good, excited way. Matty - you are finally starting to embrace tummy time! For a long time you would scream and protest whenever we placed you on your stomach. However, just yesterday I rolled you over to work those neck and chest muscles and you smiled at me while you wiggled your little legs and arched your back. I will go ahead and write that once more: you smiled at me while on your stomach. That is quite the feat for you, and it made me ecstatic that you are getting used to tummy time, and may actually be enjoying the exercise?

Right now our video camera is broken, which kills me, it kills me dead. I want to document your coos and babbling. You talk so much, and you are always commenting on something in your world. Your Dad and I try and have conversations with you all the time, and there are moments when you make noises and coos that sound like 'uh-oh' or 'uh-huh'. Matthew you are already mastering the art of conversation, I can't wait to hear your first word!

Recently your Dad and I took away your pacifier when you fall asleep. Sorry about that nasty turn of events baby boy. We were worried that you were relying on the pacifier to fall asleep and we wanted to break that habit. You did not take kindly to our desire to break the habit and you let us know that. Loudly. In our ears. For long periods of time. You protested severely the first night, the second night without the pacifier you protested, but not nearly as long or as forcefully, and the third night without it, you barely cried at all. You quickly adjusted which made your father and feel good about the choice we made. While we worried that you would resent us and continue to fight sleep without your pacifier, you proved us wrong, which only confirms how awesome you are. You are such a happy boy and we were worried that our actions would damage you, but your every day gummy grins and drooly smiles are testament to your enjoyable, pleasant personality. Thanks for being so easy going, not only are you happy, but you are pretty laid back and that makes it nice for your Daddy and me on so many levels.

Baby boy, I try and tell you everyday, in so many ways, how much I love you. I hope you never doubt for a second how important you are to me.

Love, Momma

115

2007-06-13T14:02:00.000-04:00

That number is the age of my son (In days, not years. Ho boy, I am funny!). That is about 16 and a half weeks, or approximately four months. FOUR MONTHS. That means Matthew has only been on this earth for about 4 months, but to be honest, I barely remember what life was like before he came along. Since he entered the world my days have been fuller, richer and so much more rewarding. He is so little, so small, and yet the impact he has upon my life is dramatic. In fact, for someone who needs to be attached to my person to move through the house, poops his pants on a regular basis and randomly regurgitates food on my shirt, I find Matthew to be one of the most fascinating people I know.

I desperately want to write about my birth experience, and I keep putting it off, because I want it to be a perfectly documented memory. The trouble with that statement 'perfectly documented memory' is the longer I wait to write about the day, the less I will remember. I am such a dork. I need to just sit down and plunk something out, anything, because before you know it the story will go something like this: "I had a baby and my belly button will never look the same. The end." Waiting to write down my thoughts isn't making things any easier, that is for sure.

Leaving for work also falls into the category of not getting any easier. People keep telling me that it will get easier to leave my son and go to work all day long, but they are wrong. They are so very, very wrong. I hate leaving my son. I hate that I can't see his face during the day, and the mornings that I leave the house I find every reason in the world to stay just a second longer. I am continually late to work, but that lateness gives me a few precious seconds to be in the same house with my boy. In a way I have to numb my ability to feel before I walk out the door, or else every time I leave, I would be a hot mess of tears, snot, and raccoon eyes. The only part of my days at work that I like are when I get to leave and go home. Holding Matthew, watching him give me a big toothless grin, hearing him coo and seeing him shrug his shoulders, there is nothing better.

Elephant Memory

2007-06-01T22:02:00.000-04:00

Matthew, there are so many things about you that I don't want to forget and I am sure there is so much that I am already forgetting. I want to ingrain every second with you into my brain, I wish that were possible. Without further ado, here is a fascinating list of things about you that are completely, totally awesome:

- The way you shrug your shoulder and smile your big toothy grin.

- When you talk and coo at your mobile in your crib. The smiles you give your mobile are hilarious.

- The sounds you make: Agoo, aaahhh, and the little sighs you emit.

- I love when you wake up from a nap, tuck your chin downwards and look around like a deer caught in headlights.

- Your wrinkly baby neck is perfect, and even though it sometimes smells like baby throw-up, I love to sneak in and kiss you all over that wrinkly neck. Also, there are times I think you look like a turtle, and it makes me smile.

- When we do baby sit-ups, and you want to stand, not sit.

- I love that once you are standing up, holding onto my hands, you try and stealthily sneak my finger in my mouth and gnaw on it, as if I won't notice that you are slobbering all over me.

- You are so talkative, I want so badly to engrain your baby "ahh"s and "oohh"s in my mind, I never want to forget how cute you sound.

- When you bicycle your little legs.

- The first time you laughed out loud. Your Papa was holding your hand, and making funny faces and you started cracking up. Neither your Dad or I have been able to get you to laugh as hard as that first time, but we are still trying.

- I love when you are done eating and you turn away from me, arch your neck, and stretch your head back. Occasionally you will lift one arm in the air to stretch, you scrunch up your face and take a deep breath, and you look adorable the entire time.

- Your chubby feet are perfect for me to snack on, and I routinely play "this little piggy" with you so I can see you smile.

- Right now you aren't laughing a terrible amount, but you give out smiles all the time. Your wide, open mouthed grin slays me every time I see it.

- You are such an observant baby, and you need to look around and study a new place before you feel comfortable to start talking. It's amazing to already see your personality emerging.

- The fat wrinkles around your knees and thighs, love them.

- I find it hilarious that when I give you a kiss, you open your little mouth because you have no idea what I am doing.

- I love your fuzzy head, especially after a bath when your hair is particularly soft and spikey.

Matthew bring out the best in me, thank you so much for coming into our lives. You are such an easy going, happy baby. People are constantly commenting about how good you are. Your Dad and I just smile and agree, you are an amazing little boy. It is virtually impossible for me to describe how much you mean to me. I love you baby boy!

The first cut is the deepest

2007-05-22T12:00:00.000-04:00

Leaving my son today as I went to back work was ridiculously, mind bogglingly, hard. I feel numb. I feel like I can't breathe. There is a huge weight on my chest that is slowly suffocating me, and every time I picture my son that weight just feels heavier and the pain cuts deeper. Will leaving him become easier? At this point it does not seem that way. Hot tears prick my eyes every couple of minutes, I fear they will start falling and I hastily wipe my eyes so that co-workers won't see my pain.

I miss his sweet coos, his chubby fingers, his stern gaze, his wide open-mouthed grin, his shoulder shrug, his fuzzy red head, his chunky thighs, his deep blue eyes, his soft skin, his wrinkly neck, his little sausage toes, his yummy fat cheeks, his perfect little mouth, his sweet smile.

Sitting at this desk I close my eyes and remember the sounds of my son chewing on his fist, the slurping noises that he makes as he gnaws away on his most prized possession. I picture him peeking over his Dad's shoulder as he trys to burp after a feeding, with those bright eyes taking in the world, and his downy soft baby hair sticking up every which way. I try and remember the ways in which he has changed over the last three months and there are too many changes to count. He used to fit so perfectly in my arms, and now he is long and lean, and his little legs alone are the length he was at birth.

I love entering my baby's room in the morning, he is already awake and cooing while watching his mobile. He is trying to kick out of his blanket and is just starting to roll from side to side while trying to wrangle free. I watch from the doorway as he talks to himself and I am so excited that I have the privilege of getting to know this little boy. As I come closer I know my baby senses I am near, he kicks his little legs and as he bicycles himself nowhere, I lean over and coax a smile from him. Even if hunger has been pestering him for he will still stop and give me a smile before scrunching up his face and letting me know it's time to eat. I count my blessings and thank God that my boy is healthy and happy. He is a joy to be around and I cannot wait to ditch this office, race home, burst through the door and hold his little body against me. I long to pick him up, feel his toes dig into my stomach, feel his little fingernails in my neck, fingers tangling into my necklace, and just gaze into his eyes.

I tried telling him over and over again how much I was going to miss him, and how I would be home as soon as possible, but I think I was trying to convince myself that everything is going to be okay now that I am back at work. My baby is fine; he is with his Daddy the days I am at work. They will have a grand time together during their 'boys only, no girls allowed' days, it is momma who is having the hard time.

The work day cannot end fast enough.

Pregnancy rule # 611

2007-01-23T15:30:00.000-05:00

The husband will change his mind about how he wants to pant the baby's room at the very last minute. The change will undoubtedly be more intricate and complicated than the original paint plan, meaning it will take longer to complete the nursery. The immensely pregnant woman will need to take a deep breath and let go of her frustration.

Note: it is essential to have mint chocolate chip ice cream on hand to soothe nerves.

Sundries

2007-01-19T11:52:00.000-05:00

The belly continues to stretch tighter and tighter. Sometimes I wonder how this kid is fitting inside me, and with a little more than a month to go how is it going to continue to fit? Oh, by poking me in the ribs a thousand times a day, that's how. "Silly mommy, your body is my playground" this kid thinks as I wince in pain at the foot that is causing the left side of my stomach to go numb.

This morning I couldn't sleep at all and ending up getting up around 5:20. That is early, even for me. But, instead of being upset about the ungodly hour I tried to think about it differently. In a few weeks I will be getting up 5:20 or earlier because I have to, because there will be someone in the next room who needs me. Today I could get up and do whatever it was I wanted, I could go swim and not worry that I had to be back at the house by a certain time. While I am not complaining in the LEAST about the child that I will be taking of in a few weeks, I do realize that I will miss the 'me' time that I have had over the last 28 years of my life. It is hard to explain what this realization has done for me, but I hope that I can appreciate everything about my life during the next month, because it's all about to change. Ch-ch-ch-changes...

Last night husband and I went to see 'Into the Woods' at our local theater. I really enjoyed the play, though it was a bit long. I had never seen the full version of the story, and honestly, it's a little depressing. The first act is very bright, shiny, and happy, the second act brings you back to reality and makes feel a little depressed. Overall the show was wonderful, I loved it, and I am preeetty sure I understood the moral of the story (since the cast only sung about it the entire second half of the show), which was children grow-up, you cannot protect them forever. How apropos to this stage of my life, because all I can think about is protecting this child inside me.

We have a baby shower tomorrow that friends are throwing for us and I am really looking forward to it, though I have to remember to hold my head up in all the photos so my complimentary maternity double chin doesn't show up.

XY or XX?

2007-01-17T15:44:00.000-05:00

Ho boy. This baby likes to streeeeeetch out all over the place. Often times I find myself pushing back on spot on my belly that hurts like a mofo, and I'll feel a little foot move out of the way, or a knee slide down lower in my belly. What is really freaky is to look at my stomach and actually see how lopsided it is at times. I wish I had a way to look inside and see what kinds of crazy positions this kid gets itself into, it is so intriguing.

I know as soon as I write this next sentence I will be jinxing myself, but I shall take the risk. As of right now I have no stretch marks, and this makes me oh.so.happy! Tomorrow I will be kicking myself for typing that, because I guarantee that my body will punish me for being so vain and produce one stretch mark for every letter in this entry. Honestly, I don't know why I haven't gotten any stretch marks; I suppose it comes from good genes. It certainly isn't because I am watching what I eat and taking care to rub lotion on my belly every day. In fact, I feel like I am eating pounds of food lately, and I am hungry at the worst times of day, like 9pm at night. Though I do enjoy being able to eat a meal and not having to suck my gut in after I am done, I will miss that once this baby pops out. Pregnancy weight: Both a blessing and a curse.

I have really tried to keep in shape during this pregnancy, and though I am gaining weight at what feels like an alarming rate, I am swimming almost every day, so that makes me feel somewhat better. Do you know what really annoys me though? The women in the locker room who insist on conversing with me while I am naked and showering. Who holds a conversation while naked?! It is all I can do to shower quickly and grab my towel because I certainly don't want anyone staring at my body, especially when I am sporting the "beached whale" look. I feel like I draw attention to myself anyway since I have no belly button to speak of, and my stomach is this giant bulbous ball, I don't need more attention when I HAVE NO CLOTHES ON. Please, do not talk about the weather or the temperature of the pool water until I am dressed, I beg you.

That paragraph above is giving me the heebies, so let me change the subject and talk about my sweet baby. Everyday I wonder: Boy or Girl? I came across some old wives tales online and I have had fun applying each to my pregnancy to see if I can figure out this kid's gender.

* If the baby's heart rate is under 140 it's a boy, over 140 it's a girl
This kid's heart rate has been between 140 and 150

* If you have heartburn you're having a girl
I had some heartburn during the 2nd trimester, but nothing since

* If the mother's age at conception and the year of conception both end in an even or odd number then it's a girl, if one is even and one is odd, it's a boy
I was 27 in 2006

* If you carry out front: girl, if you carry in the hips and butt: boy
I don't really know where I am carrying, I am guessing out front, my husband and mother both commented that I don't look pregnant from behind

* Boys give beauty, girls take it away
I haven't had any breakouts, but I did gain weight in my face, it's a toss up

* If you are moody it's a girl. If you are cheerful it's a boy
I would say overall I have been a pretty cheerful pregnant lady, give or take a few hormonal episodes

As my husband would say: They all have a 50% chance of being right. How accurate he is, because half of these indicate I am having a girl and half indicate I am having a boy. At least it doesn't look there are any puppies inside me.

Bump Baby Bump

2007-01-11T12:15:00.000-05:00

The other day I was walking through Georgetown and a homeless man shouted to me: "Hey! Pregnant lady! Congratulations!" I had a non-maternity coat on, zipped up over my belly, but I forget how obvious my belly is. I guess I feel like since I am still wearing my regular coat I really can't be all that big, but when I am getting recognition from unexpected people on the street, that is a big ole wake up call as to how pregnant looking I really am. Part of my constant amazement at how big I am getting stems from the fact that I don't have a very good full length mirror in my house. The only full length mirror I have sits propped against a bedroom wall with a door in front of it. It is so covered up that I feel like I barely use it. When I am out and catch a glimpse of myself in a true full length mirror I always stop and look again, because it is amazing that another person is fitting inside my stomach (and pushing haaaaaard as I type this).

Lately it has been fun to play the game “guess that body part” when I feel a sharp push or a rock hard spot under my skin. Something I read says the baby may have turned head down by now and is getting ready to prepare for birth. Birth! It has occurred to me recently that some how or another this baby eventually has to exit my body, be it naturally or through surgery. This is starting to make me very jittery. We watched a birth video the other night in which a woman naturally gave birth to a 10 pound 1 ounce baby. I could feel my legs tightening closed as the video started and by the end I think I had cut off all blood flow in my lower extremities I was clenching so forcefully. Ow. I wish I could fast forward through the actual birth part and get to the part where I am holding my baby in my arms. The part that makes me forget about all the pain and stretching I had to endure, the part that makes me want to have another child right away. Holding this baby against me and seeing the tiny life we created is what I am looking forward to the most.

Year of the Baby

2007-01-03T14:51:00.000-05:00

It is has been 2007 for approximately three days now and that means this is the year this kid will be born. Hold me, for I am but a wee bit scared. But, let's be honest, I am also thrilled beyond belief. This kid must be thrilled too, because it has decided to step it up a notch and has been rap tap tapping all over my insides for the last week or so. I admit that I love feeling this baby move around, but my insides kinda hurt. I had no idea how squished I would end up feeling. And bending over? Forget it. I end up knocking the wind out of my own self every time I lean over. Amazing how quickly I can forget that I have a large backpack permanently attached to the front of my body for awhile. I also forget that this backpack makes me tired, and does so very easily. I keep thinking that I have the same stamina, the same endurance as I did before I was pregnant. There are times I fool myself into believing this is true, and most of the time I just ignore the fact that I no longer can expend as much energy as before and push myself to finish a task. One of the hardest things about this pregnancy has been reminding myself to slow down and that it's okay if I don't accomplish my list of 100 things to do today.

The holidays made it hard for me to try and slow down, because everything about them screams "DO AS MUCH AS YOU CAN OR YOU ARE A FAILURE" (gee, do you think I put a bit too much pressure on myself?), but I really enjoyed Christmas this year. I also really enjoyed having all our guest leave and spending time with just my husband. Lately all I want to do is be around Jim, I miss him when I am at work, I wish he could drive everywhere with me, I really treasure being with him. Perhaps I am realizing that we won't have this kind of time alone together for a long time to come and I am making the most of these last two months. He has been working so hard for our family too, making sure that our house is ready for the baby. I wish so badly I could help out more, I hate that the pressure to complete projects is falling on his shoulders. However, he has done a wonderful job both remodeling the closets and calming my fears about completing the nursery, I cannot put into words how much I value Jim, he is one in a million, and I am glad he's all mine.

The one thing I would change that is all mine is my caboose. This thing is getting harder and harder to maneuver, and once I sit down I don't like to move again because it's pretty much downright impossible. But, I will say that I am nothing short of a genius since I started wearing soccer shorts to bed at night. They are so slick on the sheets that I can roll right over, where as before it used to take all the strength I had in me to reposition myself when I was sleeping. Sleeping still isn't great, but it comes and goes, and that is better than nothing. In 8 more weeks it may be but a fleeting memory, so what little bit I am getting I shall try and relish in, though I still reserve the right to complain about how crappy said sleep may be.

And, can we take a minute to focus on that little phrase '8 weeks'? The fact that this kid could be born in approximately 8 weeks means that I am 8 months pregnant. 8 MONTHS! Seriously. I questioned that number quite a bit this week and was sure at one point that I had miscalculated because, really, even though I feel about 13 months pregnant I really must only be 7 months pregnant, right? But...alas...I am not 7 months. I am 8 months pregnant and this kid is coming soon. I continuously wonder who this baby will resemble, what color hair (if any) it will have, what personality traits will it possess? I am fully prepared for this kid to look everything like Jim and nothing like me because it seems to always go that way. Mama carries the child for 10 long months and the kid pops out looking like the spitting image of dad. I keep telling myself it's fine if the kid looks like Jim, he's a handsome guy. But kid, just so you know: I would appreciate just a little recognition in the resemblance department. Thanks.

Full of Cheer

2006-12-22T15:10:00.000-05:00

My husband, the sweetheart that he is, commented to me this morning that I didn't look pregnant from behind. I love that man, especially because everything about me feels extremely pregnant right now, right down to my pinky toes. My husband = absolutely awesome.

Along the lines of awesome: this baby continues to grow stronger each day, which is really exciting and also really painful. There are times that my insides feel so stretched, and this kid is still a little peanut compared to how big it'll be in a few weeks. For some reason it is particularly interested in the left lower side of my uterus. That area of body stays sore pretty much all the time, as in, when I touch my skin in that area, it hurts. This kid.... [Shakes head.] I am starting to think that the kid is a girl. No real reason, but for a long time I was thinking boy and now I am thinking girl. The speculation: it's titillating, I know!

Both Jim and I have been extremely sick this past week. We caught colds that have knocked us out flat. I haven't worked out in over a week, which is starting to affect me mentally and I can tell I am not sleeping as well either. I am ready to start feeling better, one of the worst things about being so sick, besides the copious amounts of snot, is feeling out of breath all the time. Nothing is worse than say; getting up out of a chair only to realize that I am standing there panting. Good times.

Christmas is just around the corner, and am pretty sure that all the extra food I have been consuming in celebration of the season isn't helping my beached whale look at all, though my taste buds aren't complaining at all. Really I can't believe that Christmas is only days away. Our last Christmas as a couple, wow. This means that the New Year is right around the corner, which means it will be 2007, and I don't know if anyone is aware of this...but my baby is going to be born in 2007. Early 2007. Holy crapamoly, I am so close to having a child. T minus 10 weeks and counting. (That means I am 30 weeks along. 30! How is this even possible?)

As many weeks as I am years

2006-12-07T16:16:00.000-05:00

This week my child is 28 weeks old. That means this baby is 12 weeks away from being born. 12 weeks! That will pass in no time! I can hardly believe that in 3 months our lives are going to be forever changed by the presence of another person.

Lately this baby has started moving around like crazy, it feels like it's kicking it legs and there are times when my stomach just hurts from being pressed on. I am guessing that kind of pain is going to get worse, since this kid certainly isn't shrinking at all.

This past weekend I went to a baby shower in my hometown. It was fun but what made it especially delightful was the whole time everyone kept telling me how good I looked. Since lately all I am feeling is BIG, I didn't want the shower to end because it was really nice to hear over and over again that I looked really good. Flattery is always appreciated, especially flattery towards an overly tired, very round, waddling pregnant woman. Another person who is on my favorites list right now is the woman at the pool this morning. She asked me when I was due and when I told her, she proceeded to say "Oh, you don't look big at all considering you are due so soon." I could have hugged her, especially because as we were talking I stood there in my bathing suit. And the only bathing suit that fits right now shows a considerable amount of tummy, along with a considerable amount of everything else. When I told this story to my husband he responded: 'Well that is both good and bad. It means you are going to get a whole lot bigger.' My happy balloon deflated a little after I realized that yes, he is indeed right. It's already hard to move around and get in and out of the car, I don't want to think about the challenges I'll face in 2 1/2 or 3 more months.

Another cute story: Last night at work I was talking to one of the four year old little girls who I hadn't seen for a few days. She poked me in the stomach and then looked up to verify that there was a baby in my belly. I told her yes, there was, and then she asked if she could see the baby. When I informed her that she couldn't see the baby quite yet because it wasn't ready to be seen she tried to lift up my shirt and confirm that for herself, it was funny but it also made me very glad that was the first time anything like that happened, since it was a little embarrassing.

This weekend the hubs and I travel to the state which housed him for 18 years to see friends and his family. I am really looking forward to seeing everyone but I am really NOT looking forward to the drive. Leg cramps have been creeping up on me lately, and they are awful! I know that a nice long car trip will only help encourage them to pop on over a say hey, the little bastards. But, I am excited to see people and I am curious if these friends will be as complimentary as the people from my hometown. I can only hope that all weekend long I will hear about how good I look.

Vain much?

Name Game

2006-11-29T13:21:00.000-05:00

Hormones can really suck. For the last day I have been a wreck over several things, and the hormones coursing through my body are not helping the situation at all. I feel like I have been smashed into a thousand pieces that won't ever fit back together properly. I am tired, cranky, and tears are falling pretty easily right now. I can't wait to find out how exciting my hormones make life after the baby comes!

Part of me wants to write about what is upsetting me so much and part of me does not. I feel nervous writing down these feelings, as if they will somehow come back to haunt me. Here goes. My husband and I have an unusual last name. We get made fun of quite a bit, and ha-ha, we always try and laugh about it because what else can you do? It doesn't make sense to get angry over a joke about our last name that has been made approximately 100 bazillion times. Most of the time people get bored with making fun of our name, and move on to bigger and better jokes. Thank God, because hearing the same damn joke about our "funny" last name gets really fucking old. Just sayin.

I have been worried since I got pregnant about naming this child a name that won't have to much ridicule when combined with our last name. Well, it seems all that worry was in vain, because it turns out this kid doesn't even have to be born to be made fun of. Poor baby. Friends of ours are throwing a baby shower for us, which is very kind of them, but have managed to turn the save the date invite into a joke fest over our baby's last name. I can't describe how much it hurts me to read jokes directed at our baby, suffice it to say: ALOT.

I want nothing more than to protect this child and it pains me to know that already this cannot be done. I suppose I could consider all this a wake up call to the fact that this baby's life will not be perfect no matter what I try and do to make it perfect...but HELLO. Did I mention the fact that it hasn't left my body yet and already it is facing ridicule? I have done a damn fine job of getting pissed off these last couple of days, but I think now that I have typed these feelings out I can start to cool off a little.

I love you baby, and rest assured that your Dad and I are doing our best to name you something wonderful, regardless of what people will say to you because of our last name.

'can't sleep pregnant'

2006-11-16T10:20:00.000-05:00

Last night was the worst night of sleep I have had since 'Operation Cletus: 2007' began. It is a struggle for me to think of the words I should type because my brain is fuzzy, my eyes are heavy and I feel only a little bit better than if I had been hit by a Mac truck. If my shoddy calculations are correct I had approximately negative 3 hours of sleep last night. Okay. Okay. That isn't true. Perhaps I had about 5.5 hours of sleep, but it was not all consecutive. No. Why would it be? It was spread out over the course of the night, which made it even more enjoyable. The worst part was as I was lying there trying to sleep, I just found myself getting more and more angry, which wasn't exactly helping my cause.

I just spent the last 30 minutes at work being very productive and googling 'can't sleep pregnant'. Over half of what I read were other pregnant women saying, 'oh, this is just nature's way of preparing us for what's to come', which isn't exactly what I want to read, as I prop my eyes open with toothpicks to stay awake for the next 7 hours. I want a solution, and not one that happens in 18 years when this kid leaves home.

As I become more tired due to lack of sleep, I feel extremely sorry for myself. I know things really aren't that bad, and that lack of sleep can skew things in a pretty crappy direction, but it sure it easy to take on the 'woe is me role' and whine and complain. While I am sure everyone around wants me to just stick a sock in it already, but I feel better having been a cranky bitch, which isn't exactly fair to those around me, but whatever. They don't have 20 extra pounds on them, causing them to be a sleep deprived basket case.

Speaking of extra pounds, I was worried for awhile that I was gaining too much weight too quickly. Now, I have opposite fears. I feel like this kid should be getting bigger with every breath I take. I want to feel it moving around more as it is growing, and I don't. At first I didn't want to get on the scales, but now I do it willingly to see if my baby is fatting up, and since I have only gained two pounds in the last two weeks I wonder if something is wrong. All my baby books say from here on out this kid will triple in size, blah, blah, blah. Which, I know the tripling takes place over the last months, but...really, since I don't have enough on my mind already, let me just add this one other thing to the mix, that I probably shouldn't really even be worrying about, but will anyway. I am sure in two more months, when I reach whale like proportions, I will look fondly back on this time and wistfully think of the days when this kid wasn't growing into what will probably feel like Andre the Giant proportions in my uterus.

When I think about it, I really am enjoying this pregnancy (though you may not be able to tell from this entry) and I like being pregnant, I truly do. I also like causing myself grief over things that are way out of my control, I figure it balances the scales a little. Now, please excuse me while I lay my head down on my desk and get some work done...

Randomness

2006-11-15T12:36:00.000-05:00

Does it make me a bad mother to admit that sometimes I forget how pregnant I am? This week I was discussing with my husband the fact that I was 25 weeks pregnant and then I second guessed myself, especially when Jim told me that I was not 25 weeks, but 26. I almost broke out the calendar and counted, but then I remembered that last week I was 24 weeks (or 6 freakin' months) and so this week I am only 25 weeks. I am already having mini convulsions over the fact that I am closer to having this baby than not having this baby, so to add a false week on my timeline is not something I want to do.

There are so many things I want to remember about this pregnancy, but I have been so lazy about updating here, I always think I should at least write once a week, but I get busy and forget to post. I have been feeling the baby move pretty regularly, there are times when it is more active and sometimes it still catches me off guard to feel something inside me move. My initial reaction will be to tell myself my stomach is doing flips until I remember there is a kid inside of me doing flips, and it is most likely not my stomach.

There hasn't been a lot of progress made towards the completion of the nursery. However, if you are one of those people who considers progress 'piling clothes and sundry items around the room', then the nursery is actually very close to completion. There will be a December baby shower in my hometown and I am hoping the weekend of that shower Jim will be able to stay home and do lots of damage to our house, which will also be considered progress on the nursery front. We shall see.

In other news I finally decided to sit down a measure my ever expanding chest. Considering that I am still wearing my original brassieres, you can take my word for it when I say things are a little...crammed. Everything I have read says make sure to invest in proper fitting under garments, as you will be so much more comfortable. This makes perfect sense and, if I weren't so lazy, would have been very valuable advice for when I first began to expand in my upper torso region. So, without further delay I must announce that the number part of my current bra size sounds something like dirty mate and the letter part falls between C and E. I have to admit that I was shocked, considering that before this whole pregnancy business started I topped the charts at a nice, normal 34B. Luckily I have been wearing many a sports bra, which seem to do a fine job of supporting the girls, and last night I had the good fortune of being able to borrow a few bras much closer to my current size. So, while things are still a little tight up top, it is a vast improvement over what my breasts were being submitted to days ago. My chest is thanking me as I type this.

We still have no name for this child if it turns out to be a boy. Our attempts to choose a boy name go a little something like this:
a. Discuss family names that we both like
b. Decide that we need more boy choice names from my side of the family
c. Repeat top three name choices about a bazillion times
d. Mention again that it would be nice to have more choices from my family
e. Begin thinking of names we find hilarious, i.e. Truck, Robot, and Brick
f. Lather, Rinse, Repeat

The last few times we have tried talking about boy names I find myself getting annoyed with our choices, but I have done nothing to explore boy names on my side of the family, so really I can only be annoyed with myself, which: no. I do not like to be annoyed with myself and so then I get annoyed with Jim for not being more open minded, and good grief, if he could just like a few of the choices I suggest we wouldn't be in this predicament, now would we?

I continue to wake up during the night; and lately I have had the pleasure of waking up not once, but twice a night for an hour or so. Add a little heartburn to the mix, and the end result = pregnant me. I am feeling more and more crankier lately, probably due to lack of sleep, and as a result I want to complain more, about anything, about nothing. Last night I wanted to complain over and over again about how badly my throat was hurting and how this heartburn is driving me insane. I try and refrain from sending Jim over the edge with all my complainyness, but it gets hard. The worst part is this kid won't even appreciate what all I went through for another 25 years. If only I could make it see now how much I suffer in the name of love...

As Thanksgiving approaches I think of all the things I have to be thankful for. While I may be feeling sorry for myself right now, I really am thankful for this child, as well as for how easy this pregnancy has been up to this point. Life, even with its lack of sleep and raw, burny throat, really is good and I wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.