Posts
I actually forgot to feed the dogs yesterday for the whole. entire. day. So now I can berate myself about being a terrible dog owner too. Fabulous! I woke up at 5am out of a deep sleep and realized suddenly that I hadn't fed them, and felt appropriately guilty, but not guilty enough to get out of bed and feed them right then and there. I've left food down for them all day today to make up for it.
Josie is still improving, I think. Today she seems a little bit better than yesterday, and yesterday was better than the day before. We did have a screaming fit last night where we couldn't calm her down and at the end I did dissolve into a puddle of tears, but I figure that is to be expected at one point or another. I've been paying more attention to the spitting up situation, and I think in retrospect that she is spitting up more than what would be considered normal. The quantity of times she spits up isn't that many, but when she does spit up it feels like a lot of spit up.
Gabe is still totally enchanted with her, despite all the screaming, and I'm being very careful not to voice my frustrations in front of him to make sure he doesn't blame her for me being tired/angry/impatient. In fact, today at naptime she was crying because I put her down in her swing so I asked him if she could tuck him into bed (because I try to put him down alone so he doesn't feel like she imposes herself on ALL our time together). He said yes, so we went upstairs and after I tucked him into his bed with all his gear, he asked if Josie would give him a kiss. I said of course, and leaned her over him, and... she threw up all over his head.
ALLLLL over his head and his pillow. It was even in his ears. Poor Gabe whimpered out, "Mommy! Josie spit up Gabe's head!" I had a moment of panic, but quickly wiped him off with baby wipes and turned his pillow over to the non spit up side and rushed out of the room trying not to make a big deal out of it. Just as I was leaving the room, Gabe said, "Mommy, Josie kiss!" Honestly, how forgiving is this kid? She is so ungrateful for her sweet brother! I would certainly not want to try that whole kiss thing again, but he adores her.
Okay, one more adorable Gabe thing, because seriously this kid is delicious. My pediatrician recommended that I spend at least 15 minutes a day of devoted "Gabe"time playing or doing whatever he wants to do. So when Josie fell asleep and I felt confident that she might stay that way for 15 minutes, I turned to her and loudly said, "Okay Josie, it is Gabe and Mommy's special time now, so you need to stay in your bassinet for a little bit while we have special time." Gabe looked up happily from his train set and said, "Yeah, Mommy! Gabe and Mommy special time." I knelt down on the floor with him to play and he scooted over next to me, looked up sweetly and said, "Mommy! Ex-cit-ing!" with tons of emphasis and meaning. I tell you, this kid kills me.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
it still tastes awful, flavor or not
On Thursday, I can't even tell you how many hours Josie screamed incessantly. Being in our arms made no difference, and at 9:30 at night I drove like a crazy woman to Whole Foods to see if they had some kind of homeopathic remedy for colic or gas or SOMETHING. They recommended gripe water, but it barely made a dent in her screaming. I finally crawled into bed with her and tucked her closely against my side and we both fell into a fitless sleep for most of the night.
In the morning I called the pediatrician, and we agreed it was time to try reflux medication, even though she wasn't having the massive amounts of spit-up that often highlights reflux. He called it into a special compounding pharmacy that could flavor the medication to taste a little less awful, and I was shocked when the pharmacy offered to bring it out to my car so that I wouldn't have to unpack both kids out of the car.
It took so long to call in the medication, and then for them to make it (because according to the pharmacist who brought it out to the car, they actually make the medication in their pharmacy, not just package it the way chain pharmacies do), that I couldn't give her a dose until last night and then again this morning. On the way home from the pharmacy she cried so hard and so long that she made herself hoarse and couldn't stop hiccuping and gasping for air. When I finally pulled her out of the car seat, she threw up all over both of us in massive amounts.
It has been tough around here. I am a bundle of nerves, because I can't put her down, even for 30 seconds without her screaming uncontrollably, and she often continues screaming even in my arms, and she is LOUD. Even though it pains me, there are some times when I have to put her down and let her scream because I have to put on a shirt, or take a shower, or pluck my eyebrows, and by the end of whatever I have to do, my hands are shaking from listening to her hysterics.
I've tried the swing, the sling, the bouncy chair, the bassinet, the moses basket, even Gabe pats her on the head and says, "no cry Josie, no cry." I feel horribly guilty because Gabe is obviously affected also. Yesterday I would put her down right next to us to change his diaper, and I couldn't even hear him talking over her cries. He doesn't seem upset by all the crying, but I feel like a terrible mother because I can't sit on the floor and play with him while I'm bouncing and jumping and dancing around in an effort to make her feel better. It is exhausting.
It's been 16 hours since we gave her the first dose of medication, and I don't know if it can start to work this quickly or if this is a fluke, but this is the least amount of crying we've had in days. She has still been fussing when we put her down, but she slept without grunting and whimpering, and she has consented to sit in a swing for 15 minutes and to be put down in her chair for an amazing 30 minute stretch. I hate hate hate putting her on any kind of medicine, because I'm always terrified of side effects or damage it might do to her sensitive system, but I also can't sit here and listen to her suffer. It's been torturous.
I'm keeping a hold on my sanity, though, mainly by reminding myself that she is healthy, she will be fine, this too will pass. Neither of my kids have a serious illness, and in the end, this is just a little blip in our lives. It feels hard while we're listening to her crying in pain, but compared to those parents whose children have serious illnesses, this is NOTHING. We can totally do this. We are totally blessed.
But still, I'm placing lots of hopes on that little bottle of vanilla flavored liquid.
In the morning I called the pediatrician, and we agreed it was time to try reflux medication, even though she wasn't having the massive amounts of spit-up that often highlights reflux. He called it into a special compounding pharmacy that could flavor the medication to taste a little less awful, and I was shocked when the pharmacy offered to bring it out to my car so that I wouldn't have to unpack both kids out of the car.
It took so long to call in the medication, and then for them to make it (because according to the pharmacist who brought it out to the car, they actually make the medication in their pharmacy, not just package it the way chain pharmacies do), that I couldn't give her a dose until last night and then again this morning. On the way home from the pharmacy she cried so hard and so long that she made herself hoarse and couldn't stop hiccuping and gasping for air. When I finally pulled her out of the car seat, she threw up all over both of us in massive amounts.
It has been tough around here. I am a bundle of nerves, because I can't put her down, even for 30 seconds without her screaming uncontrollably, and she often continues screaming even in my arms, and she is LOUD. Even though it pains me, there are some times when I have to put her down and let her scream because I have to put on a shirt, or take a shower, or pluck my eyebrows, and by the end of whatever I have to do, my hands are shaking from listening to her hysterics.
I've tried the swing, the sling, the bouncy chair, the bassinet, the moses basket, even Gabe pats her on the head and says, "no cry Josie, no cry." I feel horribly guilty because Gabe is obviously affected also. Yesterday I would put her down right next to us to change his diaper, and I couldn't even hear him talking over her cries. He doesn't seem upset by all the crying, but I feel like a terrible mother because I can't sit on the floor and play with him while I'm bouncing and jumping and dancing around in an effort to make her feel better. It is exhausting.
It's been 16 hours since we gave her the first dose of medication, and I don't know if it can start to work this quickly or if this is a fluke, but this is the least amount of crying we've had in days. She has still been fussing when we put her down, but she slept without grunting and whimpering, and she has consented to sit in a swing for 15 minutes and to be put down in her chair for an amazing 30 minute stretch. I hate hate hate putting her on any kind of medicine, because I'm always terrified of side effects or damage it might do to her sensitive system, but I also can't sit here and listen to her suffer. It's been torturous.
I'm keeping a hold on my sanity, though, mainly by reminding myself that she is healthy, she will be fine, this too will pass. Neither of my kids have a serious illness, and in the end, this is just a little blip in our lives. It feels hard while we're listening to her crying in pain, but compared to those parents whose children have serious illnesses, this is NOTHING. We can totally do this. We are totally blessed.
But still, I'm placing lots of hopes on that little bottle of vanilla flavored liquid.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
10!
There is a lot of screaming (on Josie's part) and silent hair pulling (on my part) going on over here, so my ability to sit at a computer in sweet peace is seriously limited. I'm sometimes afraid that this adorable little girl is going to push me over the edge, honestly. Today we were all ready to get out of the house to go to Josh's office for lunch, and she vomited her whole feeding all over me, and then proceeded to scream incessantly any time I tried to put her down to change my shirt, or pluck my eyebrows, or drinks a glass of water. She screamed in her car seat on the way to the car, then in the car, then in Josh's office, then at the stroller store where we were test-driving strollers. I am exhausted.
I can't let this day go by without marking it, though. Yesterday is Josh's and my 10 year dating anniversary. 10 years ago, yesterday morning, I sat down in a philosophy class behind the cutest boy I'd ever met and flirted relentlessly until he asked me out. 10 years! That means that I have spent 1/3 of my life with Josh, because we met when I was 20 and I turned 30 this year. Isn't that a little bit crazy? 10 years together, 6 and a half married, 2 kids, 2 dogs, multiple moves and jobs later, and he is still the cutest boy I've ever met.
He's promised me 100 years more, and let's hope he's right.
I can't let this day go by without marking it, though. Yesterday is Josh's and my 10 year dating anniversary. 10 years ago, yesterday morning, I sat down in a philosophy class behind the cutest boy I'd ever met and flirted relentlessly until he asked me out. 10 years! That means that I have spent 1/3 of my life with Josh, because we met when I was 20 and I turned 30 this year. Isn't that a little bit crazy? 10 years together, 6 and a half married, 2 kids, 2 dogs, multiple moves and jobs later, and he is still the cutest boy I've ever met.
He's promised me 100 years more, and let's hope he's right.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
squawky
Poor Josie is going to think that is her actual name, because we call her squawky so much. It turns out that Josie is, um, a little bit more demanding than her brother was. I always knew that Gabe was a remarkably easy baby, and he has turned into a remarkably easy toddler. Don't get me wrong, everyone has their quirks and different challenges, and Gabe is no different, but these days I am starting to appreciate just HOW EASY I had it.
Josie knows what she wants and is not afraid to be vocal about it. She wants to be held and she does NOT want you to sit while you are doing the holding. She does NOT like to poop and she does not want you to change her diaper after she has accomplished the pooping. She also has a few moments of every day where she screams for no apparent reason, or at least no apparent reason we have been able to figure out. Sometimes the screaming sessions end in some explosive gas, so I tend to attribute a lot of the screaming to gas, but then sometimes, to be honest, she just seems pissed off. Generally. At the world.
All this screaming has caught me so unprepared, that I've been going a little crazy adjusting my diet to find a cause for gas or pooping problems or whatever. I've completely cut out dairy, chocolate, and vegetables, except for plain lettuce. I also tried eating a super bland diet of just pasta, bread, rice, bananas, and water, but the crying continued. We attributed it first to the anti-constipation medication I was taking, and then to the antibiotic I was taking, but both of those are done and she stills seems upset. She also seems incredibly gassy, but if it isn't milk or vegetables or chocolate, I can't imagine what else it could be. I'm considering cutting out wheat for a couple of days and seeing how she does, but beyond that, I'm at a loss.
I must really adore this little girl, because going without chocolate for all this time (3 weeks) is causing me all kinds of suffering. My friend made me a tray of my favorite brownies, and I had to cut them all up nicely and freeze them because my little experiment of eating just one did not end well for us. That particular night we were up until 1am with a very squawky baby.
All the squawking doesn't seem to be affecting her much, though, because she is still eating and gaining like a champ. She is the most efficient breastfeeder I have ever met. She feeds for 10 minutes and seems totally satisfied, and most shockingly, at her 1 month appointment she weighed a whopping 9 pounds 10 ounces. For those of you keeping track, her birth weight was 6 pounds 5 ounces, so she gained 3 pounds 5 ounces in a month! Amazingly, that is a faster rate of growth than her brother, and that boy ate around the clock. I felt like I never stopped breastfeeding him. I was able to read book after book after book with him while I sat on the couch nursing.
One of my breastfeeding books mentions something called hyperlactation syndrome, and I'm trying to figure out if maybe that is the problem with Josie. Hyperlactation syndrome is where too much milk is produced with a too forceful letdown, so the baby gulps down too much milk, especially too much of the foremilk (thinner milk that comes out of the breast first), and all that extra lactose turns into gas in their little stomachs and causes gas problems. I definitely have too much milk, and she definitely gags and sputters often at the start of a feed and will even pull off and cry sometimes when the milk pours out too quickly. I have some tips on how to slow down the flow and keep her from gulping too much air, so we'll see how that goes.
I should also mention that I've considered reflux, but the pediatrician and I don't think that is her problem. She spits up, but not that much and not with every feed, and sitting up or lying down doesn't seem to impact her squawking. She is very noisy when she sleeps and often fusses and grunts even in her deep sleep, but the pediatrician doesn't seem to think that is enough to call this reflux.
Besides the extra fussiness, though, both of the kids are really very cute. Josie has become much more alert all of a sudden and she will look around for long stretches of time and smile if we jump into her view or squeeze her cheeks. She is getting the chubby cheeks and thighs that her brother was famous for, and I'm glad she doesn't know how to protest yet, or she'd complain about all my munching on her cheeks.
Gabe is finally feeling better and he is back to his sweet self, although slightly more affectionate than he was before. We were told that once a second child appeared, a first child might become more affectionate all of a sudden, now that his or her "resources" were being challenged. This seems to be the case with Gabe, because we've all been receiving more hugs and kisses on a regular basis (from the dogs, to Josh and I, and especially Josie). He is funny as always, and loves to do things by himself. Yesterday we went sledding, and he insisted on going down the hill on his own. He also learned how to put on his jacket and boots by himself and wants to screw the lids of cups on and get himself snacks. Today, we went to lunch with a friend and she carried Josie over to the table for us, and when he noticed she was gone, he turned to me with a worried look on his face and said, "Mommy! Josie! Mommy! Josie!" until I showed him that she was in her car seat around the corner. It was adorable to see him concerned about his sister, when my greatest fear was that he'd want to get rid of her.
So really, life is good. I just wish I knew why Josie seems so uncomfortable. It is the one thing I worry about quite a bit, so if you have suggestions, please share them.
Josie knows what she wants and is not afraid to be vocal about it. She wants to be held and she does NOT want you to sit while you are doing the holding. She does NOT like to poop and she does not want you to change her diaper after she has accomplished the pooping. She also has a few moments of every day where she screams for no apparent reason, or at least no apparent reason we have been able to figure out. Sometimes the screaming sessions end in some explosive gas, so I tend to attribute a lot of the screaming to gas, but then sometimes, to be honest, she just seems pissed off. Generally. At the world.
All this screaming has caught me so unprepared, that I've been going a little crazy adjusting my diet to find a cause for gas or pooping problems or whatever. I've completely cut out dairy, chocolate, and vegetables, except for plain lettuce. I also tried eating a super bland diet of just pasta, bread, rice, bananas, and water, but the crying continued. We attributed it first to the anti-constipation medication I was taking, and then to the antibiotic I was taking, but both of those are done and she stills seems upset. She also seems incredibly gassy, but if it isn't milk or vegetables or chocolate, I can't imagine what else it could be. I'm considering cutting out wheat for a couple of days and seeing how she does, but beyond that, I'm at a loss.
I must really adore this little girl, because going without chocolate for all this time (3 weeks) is causing me all kinds of suffering. My friend made me a tray of my favorite brownies, and I had to cut them all up nicely and freeze them because my little experiment of eating just one did not end well for us. That particular night we were up until 1am with a very squawky baby.
All the squawking doesn't seem to be affecting her much, though, because she is still eating and gaining like a champ. She is the most efficient breastfeeder I have ever met. She feeds for 10 minutes and seems totally satisfied, and most shockingly, at her 1 month appointment she weighed a whopping 9 pounds 10 ounces. For those of you keeping track, her birth weight was 6 pounds 5 ounces, so she gained 3 pounds 5 ounces in a month! Amazingly, that is a faster rate of growth than her brother, and that boy ate around the clock. I felt like I never stopped breastfeeding him. I was able to read book after book after book with him while I sat on the couch nursing.
One of my breastfeeding books mentions something called hyperlactation syndrome, and I'm trying to figure out if maybe that is the problem with Josie. Hyperlactation syndrome is where too much milk is produced with a too forceful letdown, so the baby gulps down too much milk, especially too much of the foremilk (thinner milk that comes out of the breast first), and all that extra lactose turns into gas in their little stomachs and causes gas problems. I definitely have too much milk, and she definitely gags and sputters often at the start of a feed and will even pull off and cry sometimes when the milk pours out too quickly. I have some tips on how to slow down the flow and keep her from gulping too much air, so we'll see how that goes.
I should also mention that I've considered reflux, but the pediatrician and I don't think that is her problem. She spits up, but not that much and not with every feed, and sitting up or lying down doesn't seem to impact her squawking. She is very noisy when she sleeps and often fusses and grunts even in her deep sleep, but the pediatrician doesn't seem to think that is enough to call this reflux.
Besides the extra fussiness, though, both of the kids are really very cute. Josie has become much more alert all of a sudden and she will look around for long stretches of time and smile if we jump into her view or squeeze her cheeks. She is getting the chubby cheeks and thighs that her brother was famous for, and I'm glad she doesn't know how to protest yet, or she'd complain about all my munching on her cheeks.
Gabe is finally feeling better and he is back to his sweet self, although slightly more affectionate than he was before. We were told that once a second child appeared, a first child might become more affectionate all of a sudden, now that his or her "resources" were being challenged. This seems to be the case with Gabe, because we've all been receiving more hugs and kisses on a regular basis (from the dogs, to Josh and I, and especially Josie). He is funny as always, and loves to do things by himself. Yesterday we went sledding, and he insisted on going down the hill on his own. He also learned how to put on his jacket and boots by himself and wants to screw the lids of cups on and get himself snacks. Today, we went to lunch with a friend and she carried Josie over to the table for us, and when he noticed she was gone, he turned to me with a worried look on his face and said, "Mommy! Josie! Mommy! Josie!" until I showed him that she was in her car seat around the corner. It was adorable to see him concerned about his sister, when my greatest fear was that he'd want to get rid of her.
So really, life is good. I just wish I knew why Josie seems so uncomfortable. It is the one thing I worry about quite a bit, so if you have suggestions, please share them.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
first smiles
Last night Josie slept beautifully in 4 hour stretches, and I was up since 2am sick in the bathroom from this stomach bug. When my sickness finally eased at around 6am, Josie decided she was up for the day and began cooing and chatting with me, despite all my efforts to shut off the lights, close my eyes, and ignore her.
When I finally gave in and turned on the light on my nightstand, I looked down at her and she gave me the biggest, most blinding smile, and to be sure I wasn't mistaken, held it there for what felt like an eternity, but was maybe 10 seconds. Josh and my mom kept insisting that she'd smiled at them purposefully over the last week, but I didn't believe it.
That sweet smile almost makes all this stomach bug, lack of sleep, want to cry with exhaustion nonsense worth it. Ok, who am I kidding, it is totally worth it.
I feel guilty because the tally of pictures for Josie versus Gabe is already uneven, and it is only the first month. The truth is, though, I can't seem to tear myself away from holding her, kissing her, snuggling her, to grab the camera or write a blog post. With Gabe, I was so concerned with him being spoiled that I would resist holding him just for the sake of enjoyment, to make sure I put him down in his bassinet awake or didn't get him too used to being carried around. With Josie, I'm a little less worried about her being spoiled, and I simply can't tear myself away from her. I want to bury my nose in her neck, I want to stop her from growing up, I want to keep her in my arms forever.
It has been shocking to find that I can love another little person as much as I love Gabe. I thought it was impossible.
I'm not a super affectionate person, but with both of my children I can't resist. I've tricked poor Gabe into giving me hugs by never asking if he wants a hug, but asking instead whether he wants a big hug or a little hug. Yesterday he finally caught on and responded, "NO HUG!" but for the most part, he complies. Poor Josie has no choice, so she gets slobbered on constantly.
Now I'm just wishing time would slow down. It moved quickly with Gabe, but it is impossibly fast with two kids. Even though this time around I know how much fun awaits me at every new stage, I can't help hoping for the two of them to stay the same a little longer. I should know better by now, huh?
When I finally gave in and turned on the light on my nightstand, I looked down at her and she gave me the biggest, most blinding smile, and to be sure I wasn't mistaken, held it there for what felt like an eternity, but was maybe 10 seconds. Josh and my mom kept insisting that she'd smiled at them purposefully over the last week, but I didn't believe it.
That sweet smile almost makes all this stomach bug, lack of sleep, want to cry with exhaustion nonsense worth it. Ok, who am I kidding, it is totally worth it.
I feel guilty because the tally of pictures for Josie versus Gabe is already uneven, and it is only the first month. The truth is, though, I can't seem to tear myself away from holding her, kissing her, snuggling her, to grab the camera or write a blog post. With Gabe, I was so concerned with him being spoiled that I would resist holding him just for the sake of enjoyment, to make sure I put him down in his bassinet awake or didn't get him too used to being carried around. With Josie, I'm a little less worried about her being spoiled, and I simply can't tear myself away from her. I want to bury my nose in her neck, I want to stop her from growing up, I want to keep her in my arms forever.
It has been shocking to find that I can love another little person as much as I love Gabe. I thought it was impossible.
I'm not a super affectionate person, but with both of my children I can't resist. I've tricked poor Gabe into giving me hugs by never asking if he wants a hug, but asking instead whether he wants a big hug or a little hug. Yesterday he finally caught on and responded, "NO HUG!" but for the most part, he complies. Poor Josie has no choice, so she gets slobbered on constantly.
Now I'm just wishing time would slow down. It moved quickly with Gabe, but it is impossibly fast with two kids. Even though this time around I know how much fun awaits me at every new stage, I can't help hoping for the two of them to stay the same a little longer. I should know better by now, huh?
Monday, January 12, 2009
delurk!
Ok, after all my whining in the previous post, I also just realized that today is National Delurking Day 2009!
So please leave a comment, and in return, I'll, um, umm, ummm, well... How about pictures of the babes? Old pictures, but pictures nonetheless. That's something, right?
So please leave a comment, and in return, I'll, um, umm, ummm, well... How about pictures of the babes? Old pictures, but pictures nonetheless. That's something, right?
fuming
On Thursday, when Gabe first started giving indications that this stomach bug was an actual stomach bug and not just something he'd eaten, I called the pediatrician's office to get some advice, especially on keeping Josie protected from the plague. I spoke to one of the nurses who seemed very helpful and understanding and she gave me a long list of advice to follow. On Friday I spoke to her again and she gave me more advice and a list of dos and don'ts for his diet. On Saturday, he seemed worse, and Sunday he was worse still. More importantly, Saturday night and Sunday he has been miserable.
Clingy, whiny, crying, screaming for me constantly, doesn't want anything to do with Daddy, inconsolable, and impossible about everything. To make matters worse, I had been struggling with nausea since Friday night, but on Sunday morning it became very clear that I had come down with the same stomach flu that everyone else had. Dealing with a sick and miserable toddler while feeling sick and miserable yourself has been an exercise in self-control, that's for sure.
Yesterday afternoon, in a fit of desperation, I started surfing the Internet to find more advice on how to treat diarrhea in toddlers because things didn't seem to be improving. I became more and more agitated as I realized that the advice I'd been following for 4 days was in direct contrast to everything I was reading. The nurse told me not to let Gabe eat ANYTHING until his diarrhea stopped, but clearly that was an impossibility since it had been 4 days, but I'd been severely restricting his diet. I was only giving him dry toast and rice, and small quantities of those. She said to give him apple juice and sports drinks as often as possible, to make sure he wasn't dehydrated, and absolutely no milk, even Lactaid, which I'd bought because my pediatrician had previously told me that Lactaid was safe even when he was sick to his stomach. All the websites dealing with toddlers/children and diarrhea were saying the opposite. Feed them a somewhat bland diet, but don't restrict their food. Don't give them apple juice or sports drinks, or really anything sugary, because each of those causes more diarrhea. Consider giving them some dairy because studies have shown that dairy doesn't have much impact on the diarrhea.
I freaked out. I hate calling the on call pediatrician's line, but I was frantic. I left a message stating exactly my concern, that the nurse had given me what I suspected was incorrect advice and that I was FREAKING OUT. The doctor called back almost immediately, and confirmed that I needed to stop the juice, stop restricting his food, and start letting him eat, especially plenty of bananas, soup, pasta, bread, rice, etc. Happily for everyone who had been having to listen to Gabe's screaming about not having any milk, we were permitted to give him Lactaid too. I was writing up a grocery list for Josh even before we finished the call, and by the end, the doctor was incredibly apologetic and said she would speak to the nurse. Apparently her advice would have been correct for someone whose child was profusely vomiting, but not for a mild case of diarrhea caused by a stomach bug.
I am livid. Incensed. I cannot believe that I may have been making his stomach bug worse by giving him all of this apple juice. Apple juice isn't something we regularly drink, so I had no idea that copious amounts of juice can actually cause diarrhea. I could punch someone, honestly. As soon as Josh got back from the store, we started letting Gabe eat actual amounts of food. The poor thing inhaled a banana within seconds, and then ate most of a plate of plain chicken and baked potato. He was starved.
His mood improved within minutes, and today he is much happier and energetic and while still a bit grumpy, he is much closer to his normal sweet self. No more crazy tantrums, no more non-stop crying. The diarrhea is a tiny bit better, although definitely still a problem. I'm just hoping that all these binding foods will help him to improve asap.
On Saturday, my parents also finally left town, and facing a house without their help and with a newborn, a sick toddler, a sick husband, and feeling sick myself, was not a pleasant prospect. I cried most of the day on Saturday, and the guilt I felt when Gabe would turn to Josh and say "Mommy crying, Mommy sad," didn't help things either.
It has been a long week.
I face this every time I see my parents, but I'm reminded again of how much I HATE living so far away from them. This is the most absurd way to live. I shouldn't have to wait until March or April before I see my own parents, before my children see their grandparents. I shouldn't have to wait 3 months to give them a hug. This departure was even sadder because I feel like I spent almost no time with them. That sounds silly because they were here for almost a month, but between Josie's birth and all of the illnesses we've had (first my dad caught a cold, then my mom caught a cold, then my dad got gout of all the things to get in this world, then I got some crazy virus that seemed suspiciously like the flu, then Gabe got what I had, then Josh got what Gabe had, then my father in law got what Josh had, then Gabe got the stomach flu, and so on and so forth), not to mention the demands of a toddler, and trying to keep some semblance of a home, I felt like everyone was too busy to spend actual time together. When I hugged my parents goodbye at the airport, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd hugged them during the entire trip. That still makes me cry.
Hormonal much? Geez, I'm a downer today.
But all of this is to say that today has been better, even though today is the first day I'm 100% alone with both children and I've spent much of it in the bathroom due to the stomach flu. There hasn't been much crying from either Gabe or Josie, and I've fed both of them decent amounts of food, bathed Gabe and myself, and even run a vacuum quickly over the hardwood floors when I was shamed by Gabe's footie pajamas collecting piles of dust bunnies. I'd call that successful, wouldn't you?
I may just survive this two children thing after all, as long as I keep bathing everyone in alcohol and Lysol.
Clingy, whiny, crying, screaming for me constantly, doesn't want anything to do with Daddy, inconsolable, and impossible about everything. To make matters worse, I had been struggling with nausea since Friday night, but on Sunday morning it became very clear that I had come down with the same stomach flu that everyone else had. Dealing with a sick and miserable toddler while feeling sick and miserable yourself has been an exercise in self-control, that's for sure.
Yesterday afternoon, in a fit of desperation, I started surfing the Internet to find more advice on how to treat diarrhea in toddlers because things didn't seem to be improving. I became more and more agitated as I realized that the advice I'd been following for 4 days was in direct contrast to everything I was reading. The nurse told me not to let Gabe eat ANYTHING until his diarrhea stopped, but clearly that was an impossibility since it had been 4 days, but I'd been severely restricting his diet. I was only giving him dry toast and rice, and small quantities of those. She said to give him apple juice and sports drinks as often as possible, to make sure he wasn't dehydrated, and absolutely no milk, even Lactaid, which I'd bought because my pediatrician had previously told me that Lactaid was safe even when he was sick to his stomach. All the websites dealing with toddlers/children and diarrhea were saying the opposite. Feed them a somewhat bland diet, but don't restrict their food. Don't give them apple juice or sports drinks, or really anything sugary, because each of those causes more diarrhea. Consider giving them some dairy because studies have shown that dairy doesn't have much impact on the diarrhea.
I freaked out. I hate calling the on call pediatrician's line, but I was frantic. I left a message stating exactly my concern, that the nurse had given me what I suspected was incorrect advice and that I was FREAKING OUT. The doctor called back almost immediately, and confirmed that I needed to stop the juice, stop restricting his food, and start letting him eat, especially plenty of bananas, soup, pasta, bread, rice, etc. Happily for everyone who had been having to listen to Gabe's screaming about not having any milk, we were permitted to give him Lactaid too. I was writing up a grocery list for Josh even before we finished the call, and by the end, the doctor was incredibly apologetic and said she would speak to the nurse. Apparently her advice would have been correct for someone whose child was profusely vomiting, but not for a mild case of diarrhea caused by a stomach bug.
I am livid. Incensed. I cannot believe that I may have been making his stomach bug worse by giving him all of this apple juice. Apple juice isn't something we regularly drink, so I had no idea that copious amounts of juice can actually cause diarrhea. I could punch someone, honestly. As soon as Josh got back from the store, we started letting Gabe eat actual amounts of food. The poor thing inhaled a banana within seconds, and then ate most of a plate of plain chicken and baked potato. He was starved.
His mood improved within minutes, and today he is much happier and energetic and while still a bit grumpy, he is much closer to his normal sweet self. No more crazy tantrums, no more non-stop crying. The diarrhea is a tiny bit better, although definitely still a problem. I'm just hoping that all these binding foods will help him to improve asap.
On Saturday, my parents also finally left town, and facing a house without their help and with a newborn, a sick toddler, a sick husband, and feeling sick myself, was not a pleasant prospect. I cried most of the day on Saturday, and the guilt I felt when Gabe would turn to Josh and say "Mommy crying, Mommy sad," didn't help things either.
It has been a long week.
I face this every time I see my parents, but I'm reminded again of how much I HATE living so far away from them. This is the most absurd way to live. I shouldn't have to wait until March or April before I see my own parents, before my children see their grandparents. I shouldn't have to wait 3 months to give them a hug. This departure was even sadder because I feel like I spent almost no time with them. That sounds silly because they were here for almost a month, but between Josie's birth and all of the illnesses we've had (first my dad caught a cold, then my mom caught a cold, then my dad got gout of all the things to get in this world, then I got some crazy virus that seemed suspiciously like the flu, then Gabe got what I had, then Josh got what Gabe had, then my father in law got what Josh had, then Gabe got the stomach flu, and so on and so forth), not to mention the demands of a toddler, and trying to keep some semblance of a home, I felt like everyone was too busy to spend actual time together. When I hugged my parents goodbye at the airport, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd hugged them during the entire trip. That still makes me cry.
Hormonal much? Geez, I'm a downer today.
But all of this is to say that today has been better, even though today is the first day I'm 100% alone with both children and I've spent much of it in the bathroom due to the stomach flu. There hasn't been much crying from either Gabe or Josie, and I've fed both of them decent amounts of food, bathed Gabe and myself, and even run a vacuum quickly over the hardwood floors when I was shamed by Gabe's footie pajamas collecting piles of dust bunnies. I'd call that successful, wouldn't you?
I may just survive this two children thing after all, as long as I keep bathing everyone in alcohol and Lysol.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
ugh, ugh, and ugh
I have several posts in the works, but we've been felled over here by a couple of illnesses.
Gabe has some kind of gastrointestinal bug.
I have mastitis.
Both stink. Really, really stink. Literally and figuratively.
Gabe is lethargic, whiny, feverish, and has been having nonstop diarrhea since yesterday. Today we're on strict orders not to feed him anything at all and to keep pumping the electrolytes into him.
Mine started earlier this week when I began noticing that Josie wasn't draining my breasts all the way. A couple of days ago I realized that I had a lump in one of my breasts, and suspected a blocked milk duct. Although I started treating it immediately, by yesterday morning I was achy, headachy and feverish.
All I have to say is thank goodness my parents are still here. We would be so totally screwed without them. Yesterday I was incapable of getting out of bed and today, although I'm a bit better, I'm overwhelmed with the prospect of washing my hands every 30 seconds to keep the contagion away from Josie.
Plus, I'm feeding constantly to keep the mastitis and blocked duct from getting worse, and pumping when I'm not feeding to reduce the pressure. This never happened with Gabe, I suspect because he was such an avid eater. He would eat from both breasts and still be looking for food, whereas this little girl will munch for 10 minutes and come away satisfied. My boobs haven't quite caught on to the difference, I guess.
Anyway, I'm hoping that we'll be back to normal in a couple of days, hopefully in time for my parent's departure on Saturday. And I'm doubly hoping that we get a reprieve from illnesses for a little while! Keep your fingers crossed!
Gabe has some kind of gastrointestinal bug.
I have mastitis.
Both stink. Really, really stink. Literally and figuratively.
Gabe is lethargic, whiny, feverish, and has been having nonstop diarrhea since yesterday. Today we're on strict orders not to feed him anything at all and to keep pumping the electrolytes into him.
Mine started earlier this week when I began noticing that Josie wasn't draining my breasts all the way. A couple of days ago I realized that I had a lump in one of my breasts, and suspected a blocked milk duct. Although I started treating it immediately, by yesterday morning I was achy, headachy and feverish.
All I have to say is thank goodness my parents are still here. We would be so totally screwed without them. Yesterday I was incapable of getting out of bed and today, although I'm a bit better, I'm overwhelmed with the prospect of washing my hands every 30 seconds to keep the contagion away from Josie.
Plus, I'm feeding constantly to keep the mastitis and blocked duct from getting worse, and pumping when I'm not feeding to reduce the pressure. This never happened with Gabe, I suspect because he was such an avid eater. He would eat from both breasts and still be looking for food, whereas this little girl will munch for 10 minutes and come away satisfied. My boobs haven't quite caught on to the difference, I guess.
Anyway, I'm hoping that we'll be back to normal in a couple of days, hopefully in time for my parent's departure on Saturday. And I'm doubly hoping that we get a reprieve from illnesses for a little while! Keep your fingers crossed!
Sunday, December 28, 2008
happy birthday to my sweet boy
Today my baby turns two.
Two years old.
A full-fledged toddler, although he has really been a full-fledged toddler for quite some time. Still, tomorrow it feels more official.
Since this morning, I’ve been watching the clock and remembering where I was exactly two years ago today. At 10am, I was sitting in the 
I 
write a lot about Gabe, but I wish I knew the words to describe what an amazing boy he is. Sweet, funny, charming, busy, loving, he is all of those things and more. I want to bottle up this age and keep him here forever. His new language skills, the sentences he puts together, the amusing expressions he makes, the way he learns some new way to jump or kick or throw every day- these are the things I want to memorize and store in my head forever.
But more than all of those details, I want to memorize the way he smells out of a bath, the way his bangs fall across his forehead, the way his eyelashes make shadows on his chubby cheeks, the way he rests his head against my shoulder and squeezes his little arms around me when he needs comforting. I want to memorize his voice when he calls out for me, or the way his heavy feet sound when he runs across the house.
Time feels like it is moving so quickly, and I know that my ability to store all of these memories is only going to be harder with another baby. So I’ll keep taking pictures, keep pulling out my video camera, keep writing, and keep hoping that if I just hold onto Gabriel a little bit harder, maybe I can keep the baby for a little bit longer.
And in the meantime, he keeps growing and moving and pulling away and becoming the wonderful, brilliant boy that he is and will be. I’ll be hoping all this growing up gets easier. Tell me it does. Lie if you have to.
Happy Birthday Gabriel! I hope this year is your best yet!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
**wheeze**
I spoke too soon.
I have been felled by some kind of death-like virus, and I've been coughing and sneezing and congested and achy and shivering since yesterday. Poor Josie is congested also and has the cutest little cough I've ever heard- it would be adorable if it weren't so pitiful.
We had to cancel our plans for Christmas Eve, which included an annual holiday party we never miss, with delicious food and great friends. Even my parents stayed away today to avoid my germs, and I spent most of the day huddled under the covers with Josie, sleeping and feeling sorry for myself.
Sunday is Gabe's birthday, and I'm just hoping I'm somewhat improved by then. I spent the last 9 months worrying that his sibling would crash his birthday, and in the end it could be me ruining his celebration instead!
I have been felled by some kind of death-like virus, and I've been coughing and sneezing and congested and achy and shivering since yesterday. Poor Josie is congested also and has the cutest little cough I've ever heard- it would be adorable if it weren't so pitiful.
We had to cancel our plans for Christmas Eve, which included an annual holiday party we never miss, with delicious food and great friends. Even my parents stayed away today to avoid my germs, and I spent most of the day huddled under the covers with Josie, sleeping and feeling sorry for myself.
Sunday is Gabe's birthday, and I'm just hoping I'm somewhat improved by then. I spent the last 9 months worrying that his sibling would crash his birthday, and in the end it could be me ruining his celebration instead!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
a full report
I've been waiting for some catastrophe or disastrous episode so that I can write a more interesting post for you, but I'm sorry to report that it is going to have to be the boring old truth. Things are, well, great. So far, at least.
Gabe is head over heels in love with his sister, and insists on caressing her head lovingly and kissing her and holding her hands. He told us last night, "I wanna keep Josie," and the way he says "Josie" melts my heart. It sounds almost like "joosie" or something close to that- stinking adorable. He asks for her first thing in the morning and first thing after naps. No jealousy yet, even when I spend hours on the couch breastfeeding her. The worst behavior I've seen since Josephine arrived is that he was a little whiny the first few days, and once while I was breastfeeding he took advantage of my incapacity to throw balls at me from across the room. Besides that, he is sleeping, eating, playing, behaving, generally fabulously. I'm shocked, to tell you the truth. I'm cautiously optimistic, but still anticipating some bumps in the road.
My recovery has been ridiculously good also. The worst part so far has been those horrible cramps while nursing, the ones that shrink your uterus. I was ready to climb the walls for the first 48 hours after delivery, but they seem to be gone now. I have to keep reminding myself that I just gave birth because I feel like I could do anything, which is so different from after Gabe was born. I felt good after him, but not like this.
Best of all, this little girl is the sweetest thing ever. I don't know how I get so lucky when it comes to babies, but she is a dream so far. The first night in the hospital was rough- she cluster fed from 11pm until 7am the next morning, pretty much nonstop, and when the pediatrician arrived at 8am, I broke down in tears because I was beyond exhausted. Her hard work was successful, though, because by the time I went to bed that next night (36 hours after delivery) my milk was in. That night she slept a 4 hour stretch, and she has done 3-4 hour stretches every night since we've been home. She gets up to eat, is all business, and then crashes again in her bassinet by my bed. I'm tired, of course, but I feel rested enough to wake up with Gabe in the morning and I can make it through the day feeling like a human being.
Josie was almost a full pound smaller than Gabe, and definitely more petite looking. Everything about her seems small, and her tiny mouth posed some problems with breastfeeding for the first couple of days until I could convince her to open her mouth wide enough to nurse and not kill my boobs. I had a great experience breastfeeding Gabe, so I was surprised when some small bumps in the road over those first couple of days threw me for such a loop. The lactation consultants and nurses and Josh and the janitor kept giving me different pieces of advice, and I was ready to throttle someone by the time we left the hospital. I kept finding myself feeling frantic and anxious and afraid that the breastfeeding wouldn't get better. But it did, and by the time we were home for a full day, we were in a good rhythm. By the time we went to the pediatrician for her first check at 4 days old, she was back to her birth weight and gaining an average of 3 ounces a day. Today I swung back through the pediatrician's office to have them check out a nasty diaper rash she has sprouted, and she gained a full pound in 4 days. One pound! 4 days! She is up to 7 pounds 4 ounces, and her little cheeks are starting to look chubby.
I adore her.
Last night I found myself munching on her cheeks and squeezing her into the crook of my neck. She is delicious and sweet and only cries at diaper changes and when she has to poop- I suspect both due to the nasty diaper rash. I could honestly swallow her whole. She keeps smiling at me and rationally I know it is gas or involuntary or whatever you want to call it, but it seriously turns me into a puddle of goo. She makes these adorable little noises, almost little coos, and she hums up a storm while she is nursing. I know you all told me I would love her, but I guess I didn't expect I would love her this much, this fast.
Two children. I am the mother of two children! So don't mind me. I'll be in the corner counting my blessings and smothering my babies with hugs and kisses.
I wish all of you wonderful times like these, and the happiest of holidays!
Gabe is head over heels in love with his sister, and insists on caressing her head lovingly and kissing her and holding her hands. He told us last night, "I wanna keep Josie," and the way he says "Josie" melts my heart. It sounds almost like "joosie" or something close to that- stinking adorable. He asks for her first thing in the morning and first thing after naps. No jealousy yet, even when I spend hours on the couch breastfeeding her. The worst behavior I've seen since Josephine arrived is that he was a little whiny the first few days, and once while I was breastfeeding he took advantage of my incapacity to throw balls at me from across the room. Besides that, he is sleeping, eating, playing, behaving, generally fabulously. I'm shocked, to tell you the truth. I'm cautiously optimistic, but still anticipating some bumps in the road.
My recovery has been ridiculously good also. The worst part so far has been those horrible cramps while nursing, the ones that shrink your uterus. I was ready to climb the walls for the first 48 hours after delivery, but they seem to be gone now. I have to keep reminding myself that I just gave birth because I feel like I could do anything, which is so different from after Gabe was born. I felt good after him, but not like this.
Best of all, this little girl is the sweetest thing ever. I don't know how I get so lucky when it comes to babies, but she is a dream so far. The first night in the hospital was rough- she cluster fed from 11pm until 7am the next morning, pretty much nonstop, and when the pediatrician arrived at 8am, I broke down in tears because I was beyond exhausted. Her hard work was successful, though, because by the time I went to bed that next night (36 hours after delivery) my milk was in. That night she slept a 4 hour stretch, and she has done 3-4 hour stretches every night since we've been home. She gets up to eat, is all business, and then crashes again in her bassinet by my bed. I'm tired, of course, but I feel rested enough to wake up with Gabe in the morning and I can make it through the day feeling like a human being.
Josie was almost a full pound smaller than Gabe, and definitely more petite looking. Everything about her seems small, and her tiny mouth posed some problems with breastfeeding for the first couple of days until I could convince her to open her mouth wide enough to nurse and not kill my boobs. I had a great experience breastfeeding Gabe, so I was surprised when some small bumps in the road over those first couple of days threw me for such a loop. The lactation consultants and nurses and Josh and the janitor kept giving me different pieces of advice, and I was ready to throttle someone by the time we left the hospital. I kept finding myself feeling frantic and anxious and afraid that the breastfeeding wouldn't get better. But it did, and by the time we were home for a full day, we were in a good rhythm. By the time we went to the pediatrician for her first check at 4 days old, she was back to her birth weight and gaining an average of 3 ounces a day. Today I swung back through the pediatrician's office to have them check out a nasty diaper rash she has sprouted, and she gained a full pound in 4 days. One pound! 4 days! She is up to 7 pounds 4 ounces, and her little cheeks are starting to look chubby.
I adore her.
Last night I found myself munching on her cheeks and squeezing her into the crook of my neck. She is delicious and sweet and only cries at diaper changes and when she has to poop- I suspect both due to the nasty diaper rash. I could honestly swallow her whole. She keeps smiling at me and rationally I know it is gas or involuntary or whatever you want to call it, but it seriously turns me into a puddle of goo. She makes these adorable little noises, almost little coos, and she hums up a storm while she is nursing. I know you all told me I would love her, but I guess I didn't expect I would love her this much, this fast.
Two children. I am the mother of two children! So don't mind me. I'll be in the corner counting my blessings and smothering my babies with hugs and kisses.
I wish all of you wonderful times like these, and the happiest of holidays!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
ten fingers and ten toes
It's a girl!
Josephine Shai ("Josie") was born this morning at 7:19am after a speedy 7 hour labor and 4 pushes.
6 pounds 5 ounces
18 and 1/2 inches long
She is adorable and teeny tiny and I was shocked when she came out looking so petite. So much for OB estimates, huh?
She brought Gabe a train set as a gift, and we sang her happy birthday and ate cake, and at the end of it all, Gabe proclaimed, "I like Josie!" Apparently, his love can be bought. At least for a while. We'll have to keep the cupcakes coming.
Everything is wonderful, I feel great, Josh and I are bursting with joy, and I can't believe she is a girl! I can't believe I have two kids! I can't believe I love her so much already! Life doesn't more precious or more amazing than this.
Friday, December 12, 2008
a total tease
No baby yet, no strong contractions yet, no significant changes yet.
I just feel generally exhausted, achy all over, and somewhat crampy. Every night I'll have a few noticeable contractions and think to myself, maybe this is it, but I lie down in bed and before I have time to wonder whether I should wake Josh up, I fall asleep and wake up in the morning surprised that I made it through another night still pregnant.
Thankfully, besides being exhausted, I feel really good and am sleeping better than I have in weeks, so I'm not dreading pregnancy or wishing it away. I'm okay with more time with this baby in utero, but not TOO much time. Once Sunday night arrives and my parents are here, I expect a speedy arrival for 002. I also keep telling myself that every day of not too painful contractions and bloody show and nausea and achiness is perhaps less time off of my actual excruciatingly painful labor. I have sweet visions of showing up to the hospital at 3 or 4 centimeters (or more! But I don't let myself dream about that too much) and having the rest of labor be quick.
I had my doubts that I was progressing at all, but I've been assured by many people that you can be dilating without feeling painful contractions, especially in second pregnancies, so I'm holding on to that hope. I made it to 2 centimeters without feeling any pain, maybe I can make it 1 or 2 more. My only concern is that (like last time), I tested positive for group b strep, so I need enough time at the hospital to get a round of antibiotics. I think the OB said 4 hours was ideal. This means that while I can wait around at home for a while, I can't wait around forever, and if I really am dilating, and perhaps my water really does break, I don't have a ton of time to waste before making my appearance at labor and delivery.
Tonight's moon is a full moon, a "super moon" to be exact, which means that the moon is closer to the earth than it has been in 15 years, or will be for another 8 years. My mother in law is convinced this means tonight is the night, but since I actually got dressed and went to buy cookies and challah and am feeling generally well, I doubt she's right. My OB is also at the hospital tonight, and since I'd love for her to deliver me, I think this means even more so that I won't be giving birth tonight.
For those of you keeping score at home, prepare yourself to be blinded by my massive belly. This is what 39 weeks pregnant looks like around here. Can you believe I still have a belly button? I lost it with Gabe around 7 months, but this time, the belly button is holding on!
All of this is wishful thinking, of course, because I could end up with a prolonged labor that drags on and gives me plenty of time for everything. I could also end up still pregnant on Christmas, but let's not talk about that. A girl can hope, right?
I just feel generally exhausted, achy all over, and somewhat crampy. Every night I'll have a few noticeable contractions and think to myself, maybe this is it, but I lie down in bed and before I have time to wonder whether I should wake Josh up, I fall asleep and wake up in the morning surprised that I made it through another night still pregnant.
Thankfully, besides being exhausted, I feel really good and am sleeping better than I have in weeks, so I'm not dreading pregnancy or wishing it away. I'm okay with more time with this baby in utero, but not TOO much time. Once Sunday night arrives and my parents are here, I expect a speedy arrival for 002. I also keep telling myself that every day of not too painful contractions and bloody show and nausea and achiness is perhaps less time off of my actual excruciatingly painful labor. I have sweet visions of showing up to the hospital at 3 or 4 centimeters (or more! But I don't let myself dream about that too much) and having the rest of labor be quick.
I had my doubts that I was progressing at all, but I've been assured by many people that you can be dilating without feeling painful contractions, especially in second pregnancies, so I'm holding on to that hope. I made it to 2 centimeters without feeling any pain, maybe I can make it 1 or 2 more. My only concern is that (like last time), I tested positive for group b strep, so I need enough time at the hospital to get a round of antibiotics. I think the OB said 4 hours was ideal. This means that while I can wait around at home for a while, I can't wait around forever, and if I really am dilating, and perhaps my water really does break, I don't have a ton of time to waste before making my appearance at labor and delivery.
Tonight's moon is a full moon, a "super moon" to be exact, which means that the moon is closer to the earth than it has been in 15 years, or will be for another 8 years. My mother in law is convinced this means tonight is the night, but since I actually got dressed and went to buy cookies and challah and am feeling generally well, I doubt she's right. My OB is also at the hospital tonight, and since I'd love for her to deliver me, I think this means even more so that I won't be giving birth tonight.
For those of you keeping score at home, prepare yourself to be blinded by my massive belly. This is what 39 weeks pregnant looks like around here. Can you believe I still have a belly button? I lost it with Gabe around 7 months, but this time, the belly button is holding on!
All of this is wishful thinking, of course, because I could end up with a prolonged labor that drags on and gives me plenty of time for everything. I could also end up still pregnant on Christmas, but let's not talk about that. A girl can hope, right?
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
maybe baby soon?
I was all set to write you a whole post about how Monday afternoon I went over to the used children's' items store and bought Gabe this train set from the "recycled" toys that was quoted on the tag as having originally been $60-80 and was marked down to $19.99, so I bought it and was so proud of myself. And then yesterday, I went to Target and Toys R Us, and there was that same little train set, sitting on the shelf, brand new and with a freaking toy train included, for $22.99!!! $2.99 more than the used toy!!! The new toy even came with an additional train, so the used toy was probably MORE expensive than the new toy in the end!
So yesterday I marched myself over to the used children's' items store infuriated, and ready to beat down the owner for lying about the price and misleading people. Unfortunately, he took the wind out of my sails by profusely apologizing and insisting that the $60-80 was quoted on the Internet and it wasn't his intention to mislead and blah blah blah. Still, I'm pissed because it meant an extra trip to the store out of my way, especially now when I'm feeling a bit short on time.
Anyway, I was going to tell you that whole story, except that just now I went to the bathroom and OH MY GOODNESS, bloody show! I think something is happening! Plus, I'm feeling generally icky and gross and hormonal and teary and achy and like maybe something is going to happen soon.
Nothing concrete like strong contractions, but just general crampiness and tiredness that I haven't felt before, so maybe maybe maybe I'm going to meet my baby soon. When I called my mom she started insisting that I needed to make the process slow down and not to do anything between now and the weekend, but honestly, what can I do? I have to be happy about the fact that my baby is coming soon. I will finally get to meet this little person, and finally know whether this is a boy or a girl, and I will have two children! Two! Can you believe it?
I'm thinking it might be a little late for this, but if you have guesses on sex, date, weight, feel free to throw them out now! You still have time! My OB said that bloody show could mean impending labor or it could mean nothing at all and I won't give birth for another week.
Stats on Gabe, if you're interested: he was 3-4 days late, depending on who you ask, he was induced, he weighed 7 pounds 3 ounces and was 19 and 1/2 inches long. I was pretty convinced throughout the pregnancy that he was a boy. This baby, if pressed, I'd guess it is a girl, but I'm not quite as sure as I was with Gabe. The pregnancy has been super different from Gabe's, but I hear that means nothing as well. Anyway, guess away! And think speedy and pain free labor thoughts, while you're at it!
So yesterday I marched myself over to the used children's' items store infuriated, and ready to beat down the owner for lying about the price and misleading people. Unfortunately, he took the wind out of my sails by profusely apologizing and insisting that the $60-80 was quoted on the Internet and it wasn't his intention to mislead and blah blah blah. Still, I'm pissed because it meant an extra trip to the store out of my way, especially now when I'm feeling a bit short on time.
Anyway, I was going to tell you that whole story, except that just now I went to the bathroom and OH MY GOODNESS, bloody show! I think something is happening! Plus, I'm feeling generally icky and gross and hormonal and teary and achy and like maybe something is going to happen soon.
Nothing concrete like strong contractions, but just general crampiness and tiredness that I haven't felt before, so maybe maybe maybe I'm going to meet my baby soon. When I called my mom she started insisting that I needed to make the process slow down and not to do anything between now and the weekend, but honestly, what can I do? I have to be happy about the fact that my baby is coming soon. I will finally get to meet this little person, and finally know whether this is a boy or a girl, and I will have two children! Two! Can you believe it?
I'm thinking it might be a little late for this, but if you have guesses on sex, date, weight, feel free to throw them out now! You still have time! My OB said that bloody show could mean impending labor or it could mean nothing at all and I won't give birth for another week.
Stats on Gabe, if you're interested: he was 3-4 days late, depending on who you ask, he was induced, he weighed 7 pounds 3 ounces and was 19 and 1/2 inches long. I was pretty convinced throughout the pregnancy that he was a boy. This baby, if pressed, I'd guess it is a girl, but I'm not quite as sure as I was with Gabe. The pregnancy has been super different from Gabe's, but I hear that means nothing as well. Anyway, guess away! And think speedy and pain free labor thoughts, while you're at it!
Monday, December 08, 2008
2222222222222
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
So I went in this morning to my doctor's appointment full of negativity. As soon as she started asking me if I'd experienced anything this weekend, I told her that I was definitely NOT dilated, was definitely NOT going into labor, definitely would NOT be having this baby any time soon, and as far as I was concerned, we could go ahead and schedule the induction for Christmas day, because nothing was happening before then. Obviously. I even went so far as to start suggesting dates for her to perform non-stress tests on me because NOTHING was happening.
And then she checked me.
2 centimeters! 75% effaced!
Do you know how long it took me to get to 2 cm last time? 10 hours of very painful pitocin induced labor! TEN HOURS! I already had my epidural by 2 cm last time because the contractions were coming a minute apart with no relief in between, and there was no dilating going on.
After my little diatribe, she was visibly shocked when she checked me and found out that I was dilated and effacing. She said that after my insistence that I wasn't having contractions, she was sure that there would be no change from last week. Apparently, however, like so many things in life, I am not to be trusted because I do not know what I am talking about.
I will tell you, however, that her checking me was so horribly painful THAT I STARTED CRYING AT THE END OF IT. Actual tears came out of my eyes, and I was almost hyperventilating by the end of it. She had to ask me if I needed water and she kept telling me to just lie there and breathe. It was awful. Terrible. Muy muy painful. I don't know what happened to make it hurt so much, although she said that the head is so low in the birth canal that she basically had to push the head up just to reach my cervix. Plus, I have a tilted uterus so it is incredibly difficult to reach as it is, and my cervix may be especially sensitive from the recent dilating and effacing activity.
My friend told me that once she started dilating, her cervical checks were also incredibly painful, so maybe it is just that I've never been this dilated without an epidural and I didn't realize how much it would hurt. I know that when I was in the hospital giving birth to Gabe, they had to bring in a different doctor with narrower hands and longer fingers because the attending couldn't even reach my cervix. Stupid problematic cervix. Although I shouldn't say that, because today I am very happy with my functioning cervix!
Now, I know that I could walk around for the next 2 weeks at 2cm, but now that she has reported that I am making some change, I'm realizing that oh yeah, I have been having a lot of pressure and some sporadic pains that might be contractions. I'd just put it out of my mind since I was so sure that we were going the overdue and induced route with this baby also. Since this morning, I've been having more of those sporadic contractions, and one that even caused me some slight cringing because it was accompanied by some pain. Interesting.
I'm slightly stressed because my mom doesn't arrive until December 14th at 10pm, and she is supposed to be in the delivery room with us, and my dad is supposed to watch Gabe, but I can't really worry about it until I have something to worry about. She can't just ditch work, considering that we don't know whether I'll go into labor or not, but I never thought it was even a possibility I'd go into labor before my due date so this is a bit of a shock. An excellent, exciting, fun shock, but still surprising.
So. I guess I really am having a baby some time soon! The newfound fear has spurred me into action, and this afternoon I washed baby clothes, washed the bassinet fabric, started cleaning the living room and dining room, wrote down a schedule for Gabe for whoever ends up watching him while we're in the hospital, tried to organize the nursery, and put some additional things in my hospital bag.
It sounds funny to say that at 38 and a half weeks I didn't really think we were having a baby, but I guess I didn't really think we were having a baby. Denial denial denial, huh?
So I went in this morning to my doctor's appointment full of negativity. As soon as she started asking me if I'd experienced anything this weekend, I told her that I was definitely NOT dilated, was definitely NOT going into labor, definitely would NOT be having this baby any time soon, and as far as I was concerned, we could go ahead and schedule the induction for Christmas day, because nothing was happening before then. Obviously. I even went so far as to start suggesting dates for her to perform non-stress tests on me because NOTHING was happening.
And then she checked me.
2 centimeters! 75% effaced!
Do you know how long it took me to get to 2 cm last time? 10 hours of very painful pitocin induced labor! TEN HOURS! I already had my epidural by 2 cm last time because the contractions were coming a minute apart with no relief in between, and there was no dilating going on.
After my little diatribe, she was visibly shocked when she checked me and found out that I was dilated and effacing. She said that after my insistence that I wasn't having contractions, she was sure that there would be no change from last week. Apparently, however, like so many things in life, I am not to be trusted because I do not know what I am talking about.
I will tell you, however, that her checking me was so horribly painful THAT I STARTED CRYING AT THE END OF IT. Actual tears came out of my eyes, and I was almost hyperventilating by the end of it. She had to ask me if I needed water and she kept telling me to just lie there and breathe. It was awful. Terrible. Muy muy painful. I don't know what happened to make it hurt so much, although she said that the head is so low in the birth canal that she basically had to push the head up just to reach my cervix. Plus, I have a tilted uterus so it is incredibly difficult to reach as it is, and my cervix may be especially sensitive from the recent dilating and effacing activity.
My friend told me that once she started dilating, her cervical checks were also incredibly painful, so maybe it is just that I've never been this dilated without an epidural and I didn't realize how much it would hurt. I know that when I was in the hospital giving birth to Gabe, they had to bring in a different doctor with narrower hands and longer fingers because the attending couldn't even reach my cervix. Stupid problematic cervix. Although I shouldn't say that, because today I am very happy with my functioning cervix!
Now, I know that I could walk around for the next 2 weeks at 2cm, but now that she has reported that I am making some change, I'm realizing that oh yeah, I have been having a lot of pressure and some sporadic pains that might be contractions. I'd just put it out of my mind since I was so sure that we were going the overdue and induced route with this baby also. Since this morning, I've been having more of those sporadic contractions, and one that even caused me some slight cringing because it was accompanied by some pain. Interesting.
I'm slightly stressed because my mom doesn't arrive until December 14th at 10pm, and she is supposed to be in the delivery room with us, and my dad is supposed to watch Gabe, but I can't really worry about it until I have something to worry about. She can't just ditch work, considering that we don't know whether I'll go into labor or not, but I never thought it was even a possibility I'd go into labor before my due date so this is a bit of a shock. An excellent, exciting, fun shock, but still surprising.
So. I guess I really am having a baby some time soon! The newfound fear has spurred me into action, and this afternoon I washed baby clothes, washed the bassinet fabric, started cleaning the living room and dining room, wrote down a schedule for Gabe for whoever ends up watching him while we're in the hospital, tried to organize the nursery, and put some additional things in my hospital bag.
It sounds funny to say that at 38 and a half weeks I didn't really think we were having a baby, but I guess I didn't really think we were having a baby. Denial denial denial, huh?
secrets to easy entertaining
You people really know a lot about cabbage! I printed out all your suggestions and I'll be experimenting with the many heads we received through our CSA share this week.
In the meantime, here is a yummy yummy EASY recipe for you if you have any entertaining to do in the near future. I got the recipe from Chatty Cricket, who will hopefully forgive me for revealing how easy this actually is!
Baked Brie
One package of refrigerated crescent rolls
Jar of your favorite jam or jelly (I like fig jelly, but I've also used champagne or raspberry or other gourmet jelly)
Wedge or round of brie (depending on how much you need)- I think plain is the best kind of brie for this recipe
Preheat the oven to whatever the package of refrigerated crescent rolls says. Open the package of refrigerated crescent rolls and start pulling them apart. Take your wedge or round of brie and start lining the flat crescent rolls up enough to cover the bottom of your brie, then place the brie on top of the crescent rolls.
Take your jelly, and spread it across the top of the brie (not too thick because as it bakes it'll start oozing all over the place). Then continue covering the brie and jelly with the crescent rolls until you've created a shell over the whole thing. Make sure to overlap the crescent rolls a little bit, just so you don't have any holes for the brie or jelly to escape.
Put your completed masterpiece into the oven for at least the time listed on the package of crescent rolls, and probably 10-15 minutes longer, because you need the bottoms and overlapped rolls to cook completely.
When it looks golden brown and bubbly and delicious, take it out of the oven and serve with crackers or additional rolls and watch it disappear! People will BEG you for the recipe and wonder how you made such a yummy appetizer. I get requests for this sucker all the time, and I hate telling people how easy it actually is! I've even made it with pie crusts and other types of refrigerated breads when I couldn't find rolls. Easy peasy! Enjoy!
In the meantime, here is a yummy yummy EASY recipe for you if you have any entertaining to do in the near future. I got the recipe from Chatty Cricket, who will hopefully forgive me for revealing how easy this actually is!
Baked Brie
One package of refrigerated crescent rolls
Jar of your favorite jam or jelly (I like fig jelly, but I've also used champagne or raspberry or other gourmet jelly)
Wedge or round of brie (depending on how much you need)- I think plain is the best kind of brie for this recipe
Preheat the oven to whatever the package of refrigerated crescent rolls says. Open the package of refrigerated crescent rolls and start pulling them apart. Take your wedge or round of brie and start lining the flat crescent rolls up enough to cover the bottom of your brie, then place the brie on top of the crescent rolls.
Take your jelly, and spread it across the top of the brie (not too thick because as it bakes it'll start oozing all over the place). Then continue covering the brie and jelly with the crescent rolls until you've created a shell over the whole thing. Make sure to overlap the crescent rolls a little bit, just so you don't have any holes for the brie or jelly to escape.
Put your completed masterpiece into the oven for at least the time listed on the package of crescent rolls, and probably 10-15 minutes longer, because you need the bottoms and overlapped rolls to cook completely.
When it looks golden brown and bubbly and delicious, take it out of the oven and serve with crackers or additional rolls and watch it disappear! People will BEG you for the recipe and wonder how you made such a yummy appetizer. I get requests for this sucker all the time, and I hate telling people how easy it actually is! I've even made it with pie crusts and other types of refrigerated breads when I couldn't find rolls. Easy peasy! Enjoy!
gifts galore
New post up at the other blog!
Please check it out if you're looking for holiday gifts for the baby and toddler crowd!
Please check it out if you're looking for holiday gifts for the baby and toddler crowd!
Friday, December 05, 2008
the other love of my life
This weekend in NYC, our first weekend away alone in 2 years, reaffirmed with such brilliant focus one simple fact. I love my husband. A lot.
I wish I had better words to describe what Josh is to me, what he does for me. There is no one I would rather spend my time with, no one who makes me laugh more, no one who lifts my spirits the way he does. I never get sick of him, never stop wanting to tell him everything, never stop being grateful that he is my partner in life. Next month marks our 10th anniversary together, and we still talk on the phone every couple of hours if we have to be apart, just to chat. I still wait anxiously for him to get home from work. I still wish we could be together all the time.
Having Gabriel has changed our relationship in so many ways. I've learned that babies bring quite a bit of baggage with them- stress, differences of opinion, impatience, love, laughter, awe, among other things. I worried so much before having Gabriel about what it would do to our marriage, and I think it was a reasonable worry. Raising a child is hard work, and it seems like it gets harder as they grow up. It hasn't always been easy, but I can definitely say that doing this with anyone but Josh has never crossed my mind. He tempers my impulsiveness, I make him a little less neurotic. Maybe between the two of us, Gabe and 002 will turn out halfway sane.
I've been anticipating this weekend away for quite some time, and it ended up being better than I'd hoped. I feel reconnected to Josh in a non-parents, just us way again, and I'm so happy we did this before our lives get upended again in the next couple of weeks (38 weeks today!). At the same time, I've been feeling noticeably down in the dumps since Sunday, and I think part of it is that it's going to be a while before we can spend large chunks of time together alone. A newborn and leaky boobs definitely kill the mood.
Regardless of how long it takes us to do it again, I'm grateful we made the time to go, because now I remember clearly what I'm missing. Our time with Gabriel makes us happier than we've ever been, but being away is pretty okay too. Once in a while, at least. Now I just need to get cracking on getting ready for this baby. Would you believe that I have no car seat? No clean baby clothes? Calling my house a mess would be an understatement. Someone needs to send some nesting instinct over here, because mine seems to be lost.
I wish I had better words to describe what Josh is to me, what he does for me. There is no one I would rather spend my time with, no one who makes me laugh more, no one who lifts my spirits the way he does. I never get sick of him, never stop wanting to tell him everything, never stop being grateful that he is my partner in life. Next month marks our 10th anniversary together, and we still talk on the phone every couple of hours if we have to be apart, just to chat. I still wait anxiously for him to get home from work. I still wish we could be together all the time.
Having Gabriel has changed our relationship in so many ways. I've learned that babies bring quite a bit of baggage with them- stress, differences of opinion, impatience, love, laughter, awe, among other things. I worried so much before having Gabriel about what it would do to our marriage, and I think it was a reasonable worry. Raising a child is hard work, and it seems like it gets harder as they grow up. It hasn't always been easy, but I can definitely say that doing this with anyone but Josh has never crossed my mind. He tempers my impulsiveness, I make him a little less neurotic. Maybe between the two of us, Gabe and 002 will turn out halfway sane.
I've been anticipating this weekend away for quite some time, and it ended up being better than I'd hoped. I feel reconnected to Josh in a non-parents, just us way again, and I'm so happy we did this before our lives get upended again in the next couple of weeks (38 weeks today!). At the same time, I've been feeling noticeably down in the dumps since Sunday, and I think part of it is that it's going to be a while before we can spend large chunks of time together alone. A newborn and leaky boobs definitely kill the mood.
Regardless of how long it takes us to do it again, I'm grateful we made the time to go, because now I remember clearly what I'm missing. Our time with Gabriel makes us happier than we've ever been, but being away is pretty okay too. Once in a while, at least. Now I just need to get cracking on getting ready for this baby. Would you believe that I have no car seat? No clean baby clothes? Calling my house a mess would be an understatement. Someone needs to send some nesting instinct over here, because mine seems to be lost.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
now if only I could stop peeing at night
My goodness, but I am dramatic.
So after writing this post, and agonizing for weeks over this very topic, Josh and I set up Gabe's new big boy room with the twin bed and then began our arguing over what we would do with the bed vs. crib situation. A friend of a friend offered to lend me her crib, and I began evaluating how we could change the layout of his room to include a crib next to the twin bed. I ignored Josh's pleas about not wanting to bring in another piece of furniture and moved on to how to transition Gabe from one crib to another.
And then last Sunday night, Josh asked Gabe if he wanted to sleep in his big boy bed instead of his crib. Gabe thought it over for a minute, said yes, and slept through the night without budging from the bed. The next day, I asked where he wanted to take his nap, he said the big boy bed, and he hasn't looked back since.
Tonight marks night 12 in his twin bed, and while I hate to even acknowledge this out loud (or typed out, let's say), this is the best stretch of sleep he has ever had. These 12 days and nights have been completely uninterrupted sleep (at least for him), with no wake-ups and no fighting bedtime or naptime. In the afternoons, he snuggles under the covers happily and doesn't move an inch until he wakes up 2+ hours later. At bedtime, he runs to his bed happily, we read some books while we have a cup of milk, brush our teeth, and then he practically shoves us out the door. For the past two nights he has refused his lullabies and asked us to leave.
I am not so naive to think that we may have some backsliding when this baby arrives, but for now, I'm grateful. I asked him the other day if the baby could have his crib, and he said yes. I even asked where he would sleep if the baby slept in the crib, and he said "My choo choo bed." Meaning, of course, his new room with his train comforter. So I stripped the crib, and Josh will raise the mattress this weekend, and I'll do what little I can to make the room look different while all the bedding and decorations stay the same. I'm relieved and as usual, surprised to find that Gabe has moved on from another stage of his life before my mother is ready for him to do so.
I guess this is what parenthood is, right? Letting go before you want to, before you're ready to, and having to smile even when it kills you. I've had a couple little cry fests thinking about Gabe sleeping in a real bed, and imagining a new little person in the nursery. The same nursery where I sat and imagined what it would be like to be a mother, to have a baby. The nursery where I sat late at night and held my belly and felt the crazy movements inside and imagined what lay ahead.
This is so much better than I ever imagined. Harder too, but absurdly, ridiculous, amazingly better.
So after writing this post, and agonizing for weeks over this very topic, Josh and I set up Gabe's new big boy room with the twin bed and then began our arguing over what we would do with the bed vs. crib situation. A friend of a friend offered to lend me her crib, and I began evaluating how we could change the layout of his room to include a crib next to the twin bed. I ignored Josh's pleas about not wanting to bring in another piece of furniture and moved on to how to transition Gabe from one crib to another.
And then last Sunday night, Josh asked Gabe if he wanted to sleep in his big boy bed instead of his crib. Gabe thought it over for a minute, said yes, and slept through the night without budging from the bed. The next day, I asked where he wanted to take his nap, he said the big boy bed, and he hasn't looked back since.
Tonight marks night 12 in his twin bed, and while I hate to even acknowledge this out loud (or typed out, let's say), this is the best stretch of sleep he has ever had. These 12 days and nights have been completely uninterrupted sleep (at least for him), with no wake-ups and no fighting bedtime or naptime. In the afternoons, he snuggles under the covers happily and doesn't move an inch until he wakes up 2+ hours later. At bedtime, he runs to his bed happily, we read some books while we have a cup of milk, brush our teeth, and then he practically shoves us out the door. For the past two nights he has refused his lullabies and asked us to leave.
I am not so naive to think that we may have some backsliding when this baby arrives, but for now, I'm grateful. I asked him the other day if the baby could have his crib, and he said yes. I even asked where he would sleep if the baby slept in the crib, and he said "My choo choo bed." Meaning, of course, his new room with his train comforter. So I stripped the crib, and Josh will raise the mattress this weekend, and I'll do what little I can to make the room look different while all the bedding and decorations stay the same. I'm relieved and as usual, surprised to find that Gabe has moved on from another stage of his life before my mother is ready for him to do so.
I guess this is what parenthood is, right? Letting go before you want to, before you're ready to, and having to smile even when it kills you. I've had a couple little cry fests thinking about Gabe sleeping in a real bed, and imagining a new little person in the nursery. The same nursery where I sat and imagined what it would be like to be a mother, to have a baby. The nursery where I sat late at night and held my belly and felt the crazy movements inside and imagined what lay ahead.
This is so much better than I ever imagined. Harder too, but absurdly, ridiculous, amazingly better.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
cabbagy cabbage
Speaking of this post, does anyone have any decent recipes that include cabbage? I have both red and green cabbage, and no idea what to do with them. Tonight I followed a recipe from the Moosewood Cookbook, which I normally love, and I thought it was only mediocre. It was a noodles and cabbage recipe, and I followed it to the T and still thought it was meh.
Anyone? Cabbage? Help? I have a coleslaw recipe, and I do love reuben sandwiches, so maybe I should resort to that. But seriously, how many reubens can I eat?
Anyone? Cabbage? Help? I have a coleslaw recipe, and I do love reuben sandwiches, so maybe I should resort to that. But seriously, how many reubens can I eat?
Monday, December 01, 2008
it must be an old wives' tale
I had my 37 and a half weeks appointment this morning, and nothing. Nada. Zip. No dilation. Again, I shouldn't be surprised, but somehow I'd come to believe that the intense pressure on my pelvic bones, the non-stop peeing, and the crushing pain I feel any time I try to roll over in bed or get up from the couch meant that the baby was perhaps moving things along.
I'd also hoped vainly that all the walking I did this weekend would do something in that area, but nope.
Josh and I had a major life moment this weekend- we left Gabe for the first time ever overnight. Not leaving him until now wasn't something we consciously discussed and decided not to do, we just didn't think of it. We go out to dinner once in a blue moon, we take advantage of grandparents when they are visiting and try to go for coffee or run errands or take walks alone, but we'd never had the time or money to sneak away overnight without him. I left him for a wedding shower in Atlanta, and then for a bachelorette party in Florida, and Josh has left him when he's gone on business trips, or when I've gone to California. But not together, until this weekend.
I didn't even realize what a milestone this was until we were actually on the train pulling into Grand Central Station and New York City was ahead of us and I turned to Josh and said, "Oh my God, we've never left him before!" and he argued for a minute thinking that surely I was wrong, but no, we really have never left him. The funny thing is that in all the planning for this weekend, I never thought about whether I would be sad without him, I only thought about making sure he was happy and well-taken care of and not missing us.
He WAS happy and well-taken care of and except for one incident that involved tears and a request for mommy, he didn't seem to miss us. He was busy with cousins and grandparents and trains and cold morning walks in the Berkshires.
We spent Friday afternoon until Sunday morning sucking in the city sights. Rockefeller Center, Saks Fifth Avenue and Macy's windows, Greenwich Village, Magnolia cupcakes (my personal highlight, of course), Times Square, Columbus Circle, and the many many Christmas decorations. We walked uptown and downtown and crosstown and saw holiday fairs and stopped for coffee and ate Turkish food and Thai food and diner food and street food (but don't tell my OB), and my feet ached from walking and I took Tylenol and kept walking because it was so lovely to hold Josh's hand and breathe in the cold air and just relax. We walked hundreds of blocks, and I am not exaggerating. And I did it all without bringing my hospital bag to the city, tempting fate to put me into labor 4+ hours from my packed bag, but of course, nothing happened.
It was glorious, and although I'm still exhausted and my feet are still aching and Gabe has been a pill since yesterday (due in large part, I suspect, to spoilage from his grandparents), it was totally worth it and I'm so glad we did it. I'm also glad the first time we leave Gabe will not be when we go to the hospital to give birth, because seriously, how traumatic would that be?
If every time your mom left you she came home with a sibling, you might have some teeny tiny separation problems!
I'd also hoped vainly that all the walking I did this weekend would do something in that area, but nope.
Josh and I had a major life moment this weekend- we left Gabe for the first time ever overnight. Not leaving him until now wasn't something we consciously discussed and decided not to do, we just didn't think of it. We go out to dinner once in a blue moon, we take advantage of grandparents when they are visiting and try to go for coffee or run errands or take walks alone, but we'd never had the time or money to sneak away overnight without him. I left him for a wedding shower in Atlanta, and then for a bachelorette party in Florida, and Josh has left him when he's gone on business trips, or when I've gone to California. But not together, until this weekend.
I didn't even realize what a milestone this was until we were actually on the train pulling into Grand Central Station and New York City was ahead of us and I turned to Josh and said, "Oh my God, we've never left him before!" and he argued for a minute thinking that surely I was wrong, but no, we really have never left him. The funny thing is that in all the planning for this weekend, I never thought about whether I would be sad without him, I only thought about making sure he was happy and well-taken care of and not missing us.
He WAS happy and well-taken care of and except for one incident that involved tears and a request for mommy, he didn't seem to miss us. He was busy with cousins and grandparents and trains and cold morning walks in the Berkshires.
We spent Friday afternoon until Sunday morning sucking in the city sights. Rockefeller Center, Saks Fifth Avenue and Macy's windows, Greenwich Village, Magnolia cupcakes (my personal highlight, of course), Times Square, Columbus Circle, and the many many Christmas decorations. We walked uptown and downtown and crosstown and saw holiday fairs and stopped for coffee and ate Turkish food and Thai food and diner food and street food (but don't tell my OB), and my feet ached from walking and I took Tylenol and kept walking because it was so lovely to hold Josh's hand and breathe in the cold air and just relax. We walked hundreds of blocks, and I am not exaggerating. And I did it all without bringing my hospital bag to the city, tempting fate to put me into labor 4+ hours from my packed bag, but of course, nothing happened.
It was glorious, and although I'm still exhausted and my feet are still aching and Gabe has been a pill since yesterday (due in large part, I suspect, to spoilage from his grandparents), it was totally worth it and I'm so glad we did it. I'm also glad the first time we leave Gabe will not be when we go to the hospital to give birth, because seriously, how traumatic would that be?
If every time your mom left you she came home with a sibling, you might have some teeny tiny separation problems!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
baby baby baby on the brain
It was funny for me to read the posts here and here, because we are (amazingly) approaching the time where we will finally know who this little person is. With all the placenta and breech nonsense, we ended up having tons of ultrasounds throughout this pregnancy, and although I'm dying to know just for the sake of knowing, we didn't find out because we just don't care. We really, honestly, truly, don't care. I'd love a girl, and I'd love a boy, and whatever we get is what I believe I'm meant to have.
Since the start of this pregnancy, though, people have been spontaneously announcing to me that they think I'm having a girl. At the resort in Aruba, at the doctor's office, my friends, my mom, people on the street, everyone seems to think this is a girl. I even find myself believing that this is a girl because of the increased nausea and exhaustion and terrible skin and dry frizzy hair. This has to be a girl, because this pregnancy has been so much more uncomfortable and anxiety-ridden than Gabe's was. Yesterday, I even realized that I'm becoming somewhat attached to the idea of this baby being a girl. It scares me a little, because I would never want to be disappointed at the birth of my child because I'm hoping for one or the other.
But then, this morning, I realized as I went into Gabe's bedroom and he exclaimed "bay-ball" and "diggah" and pointed to his toys, I could never be disappointed. No matter what. Feeling disappointed because this baby is a boy would be like saying that Gabe is less than perfect just because he is a boy. Gabe is perfect and beautiful and wonderful and I couldn't love him more. I could never wish for anything different because he is the child I am supposed to have. If I'm blessed to have another sweet boy just like him, I will count my lucky stars. If it is a girl, I'll count those same lucky stars.
I'll also get down on my knees and thank everything and everyone for two healthy children. That's all I could ever ask for. Plus, there's always baby number three! Or if I had my way, number 4! Josh says that babies 3 and 4 are going to have to be with my second husband, so I guess we'll have to see.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope your holiday is as blessed as ours!
Since the start of this pregnancy, though, people have been spontaneously announcing to me that they think I'm having a girl. At the resort in Aruba, at the doctor's office, my friends, my mom, people on the street, everyone seems to think this is a girl. I even find myself believing that this is a girl because of the increased nausea and exhaustion and terrible skin and dry frizzy hair. This has to be a girl, because this pregnancy has been so much more uncomfortable and anxiety-ridden than Gabe's was. Yesterday, I even realized that I'm becoming somewhat attached to the idea of this baby being a girl. It scares me a little, because I would never want to be disappointed at the birth of my child because I'm hoping for one or the other.
But then, this morning, I realized as I went into Gabe's bedroom and he exclaimed "bay-ball" and "diggah" and pointed to his toys, I could never be disappointed. No matter what. Feeling disappointed because this baby is a boy would be like saying that Gabe is less than perfect just because he is a boy. Gabe is perfect and beautiful and wonderful and I couldn't love him more. I could never wish for anything different because he is the child I am supposed to have. If I'm blessed to have another sweet boy just like him, I will count my lucky stars. If it is a girl, I'll count those same lucky stars.
I'll also get down on my knees and thank everything and everyone for two healthy children. That's all I could ever ask for. Plus, there's always baby number three! Or if I had my way, number 4! Josh says that babies 3 and 4 are going to have to be with my second husband, so I guess we'll have to see.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope your holiday is as blessed as ours!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
ick, ick, and more ick
This Monday marked the beginning of one of my least favorite medical aspects in pregnancy- the cervical checks.
Ugh.
I guess some people weather these checks easily without screaming and crawling backwards off the paper covered table, but I am not one of those folks. I find any checking in that vicinity to be excruciatingly painful, to the point that I have been dreading it for weeks and have considered taking pain medication in advance of a visit. Okay, just Tylenol, but still.
I hoped to myself on Monday morning that perhaps I'd exaggerated the whole event in my mind, but no such luck. It was very not fun, and to make matters worse, I didn't even get a teensy tiny bit of dilation to be happy about. I am 0% dilated. Nada. Nothing. I don't know why I'm surprised since it took me 40 weeks, 3 days, and 7 hours of pitocin to get me to one stinking centimeter. In a way, I'm relieved because my mom doesn't arrive until December 14th, and also I'm clearly not prepared to have this baby, but seriously, just a little progress would have been nice.
In preparation for the start of the cervical checks, Sunday night saw me contorting into strange positions in the bathroom, trying to deal with the bikini line situation. It wasn't pretty- neither the bikini area or the 36 weeks and 3 days preggo bending every which way trying to access that area. I used this to deal with the situation, and while I'm normally a HUGE fan and I've been using it for about a year now, it was shockingly more painful while pregnant. Maybe my pain tolerance just goes down in pregnancy? Or maybe I'm just a wimp? Who knows.
I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that I deliver the baby before I have to tackle the area again. 36 weeks is one thing. If this belly gets any bigger, I'm going to have to call in the husband reinforcements to assist me, and nobody wants that.
Ugh.
I guess some people weather these checks easily without screaming and crawling backwards off the paper covered table, but I am not one of those folks. I find any checking in that vicinity to be excruciatingly painful, to the point that I have been dreading it for weeks and have considered taking pain medication in advance of a visit. Okay, just Tylenol, but still.
I hoped to myself on Monday morning that perhaps I'd exaggerated the whole event in my mind, but no such luck. It was very not fun, and to make matters worse, I didn't even get a teensy tiny bit of dilation to be happy about. I am 0% dilated. Nada. Nothing. I don't know why I'm surprised since it took me 40 weeks, 3 days, and 7 hours of pitocin to get me to one stinking centimeter. In a way, I'm relieved because my mom doesn't arrive until December 14th, and also I'm clearly not prepared to have this baby, but seriously, just a little progress would have been nice.
In preparation for the start of the cervical checks, Sunday night saw me contorting into strange positions in the bathroom, trying to deal with the bikini line situation. It wasn't pretty- neither the bikini area or the 36 weeks and 3 days preggo bending every which way trying to access that area. I used this to deal with the situation, and while I'm normally a HUGE fan and I've been using it for about a year now, it was shockingly more painful while pregnant. Maybe my pain tolerance just goes down in pregnancy? Or maybe I'm just a wimp? Who knows.
I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that I deliver the baby before I have to tackle the area again. 36 weeks is one thing. If this belly gets any bigger, I'm going to have to call in the husband reinforcements to assist me, and nobody wants that.
Monday, November 24, 2008
ch-ch-ch-changes
Gabe's new big boy room has a big boy bed in it that he seems to love. It is cute and low to the ground, with a beautiful rail all along one side, and adorable train bedding. Gabe loves to lay in the bed and read and drink some milk and brush his teeth. Gabe, however, has no interest in actually sleeping in the bed.
I was hoping to do the transitional thing and start the bedtime routine there and then move to naps and finally to actual night sleeping in there, but so far he is very much loving his crib. He's also stopped climbing out of his crib because he seems to like it so much.
So what do I do? I kind of need the crib for this new resident that is slated to arrive relatively soon, but I don't need the crib now. I need it maybe 4-5 months from now. But I wanted some period of transition before I remove him from the crib and plop in the newest owner. I was looking for a couple of months of an empty crib to get him to somewhat forget that he used to sleep in the crib and get used to the idea of the baby having the crib instead.
I tried to talk Josh into moving the crib into his new room for a little while, but that suggestion was met with stubborn refusal. Apparently it is "too much work" to do that, and we already bought the twin bed and I need to come up with an alternative solution. My alternative solution does not include making my son miserable or forcing him into a bed if he isn't ready or getting less sleep then I'm already slated to get over the next couple of months.
But what should I do? Should I ask around to borrow a crib? Dismantle the crib myself with my massive belly? Push ahead with plans to switch him to his bed even though I feel in my heart of hearts that he isn't ready? Help!
I was hoping to do the transitional thing and start the bedtime routine there and then move to naps and finally to actual night sleeping in there, but so far he is very much loving his crib. He's also stopped climbing out of his crib because he seems to like it so much.
So what do I do? I kind of need the crib for this new resident that is slated to arrive relatively soon, but I don't need the crib now. I need it maybe 4-5 months from now. But I wanted some period of transition before I remove him from the crib and plop in the newest owner. I was looking for a couple of months of an empty crib to get him to somewhat forget that he used to sleep in the crib and get used to the idea of the baby having the crib instead.
I tried to talk Josh into moving the crib into his new room for a little while, but that suggestion was met with stubborn refusal. Apparently it is "too much work" to do that, and we already bought the twin bed and I need to come up with an alternative solution. My alternative solution does not include making my son miserable or forcing him into a bed if he isn't ready or getting less sleep then I'm already slated to get over the next couple of months.
But what should I do? Should I ask around to borrow a crib? Dismantle the crib myself with my massive belly? Push ahead with plans to switch him to his bed even though I feel in my heart of hearts that he isn't ready? Help!
Sunday, November 23, 2008
me no likey the dirty
If it ever doesn't work out with Josh, and some totally hot Amish farmer guy (a la Harrison Ford in Witness) falls in love with me and wants to sweep me off my feet and take me to his farm, I'm going to have settle for a romp in the haystacks, but say no to moving.
It turns out, shockingly, that I'm not cut out for the hard life (Chatty Cricket, please stop laughing).
This summer, we signed up for a community supported agriculture share of a farm. This means that every Thursday, we pick up a box of vegetables from a local drop off spot. These vegetables have been lovingly picked and cut and delivered just for us. The vegetables weren't treated with pesticides, and they've come straight from the ground and into the share box. They are super healthy, totally organic, a diverse assortment, and I have determined that I hate them.
There are a lot of vegetables in every box. They are dirty. Very, very dirty. Covered in dirt and bugs and sludge kind of dirty. I consider us fairly well-rounded adventurous eaters, but we never eat the vegetables they send us. We don't get broccoli and cauliflower and brussel sprouts and spinach. We get parsnips and cabbage (oh geez, so much freaking cabbage) and bok choy and 79 varieties of squash. Oh, and did I mention turnips? Because we get lots of turnips. And lots of leeks and eggplants. How many leeks can one family eat? Turns out, for us it's just one leek and lots go to waste. It is shameful how many of the vegetables went into the trash, but the reality is that it has been too much work for me to pick up the box, wash the many vegetables that arrive, find space for them in our cramped fridge, and then come up with inventive recipes my family will eat from these many random vegetables. I wanted corn and tomatoes and salad greens and beans and cucumbers. That is not what we received.
Also, and this is going to sound ridiculous, I cannot remember to pick up my vegetables from 4-7pm on Thursdays. I just can't. The number of times I have emailed the poor drop-off woman to ask if I can come tomorrow, are too many to count. She must think I am the hugest idiot ever, but I think it is just pregnancy and a toddler and a tendency to stay home on Thursdays for Gabe to have downtime after his toddler program on Mondays and Wednesdays.
I signed up in March when I wasn't pregnant, and when I thought it was a fabulous idea for us to receive fresh vegetables and expand our horizons and I could make and freeze baby food. Turns out, not so much. So we will not be doing our share again next year, and I'll be buying my cauliflower and broccoli and spinach at our local farmer's market or grocery store, and I suspect I'll be much happier for it.
My dreams of being a sexy farmgirl will just have to fall by the wayside.
It turns out, shockingly, that I'm not cut out for the hard life (Chatty Cricket, please stop laughing).
This summer, we signed up for a community supported agriculture share of a farm. This means that every Thursday, we pick up a box of vegetables from a local drop off spot. These vegetables have been lovingly picked and cut and delivered just for us. The vegetables weren't treated with pesticides, and they've come straight from the ground and into the share box. They are super healthy, totally organic, a diverse assortment, and I have determined that I hate them.
There are a lot of vegetables in every box. They are dirty. Very, very dirty. Covered in dirt and bugs and sludge kind of dirty. I consider us fairly well-rounded adventurous eaters, but we never eat the vegetables they send us. We don't get broccoli and cauliflower and brussel sprouts and spinach. We get parsnips and cabbage (oh geez, so much freaking cabbage) and bok choy and 79 varieties of squash. Oh, and did I mention turnips? Because we get lots of turnips. And lots of leeks and eggplants. How many leeks can one family eat? Turns out, for us it's just one leek and lots go to waste. It is shameful how many of the vegetables went into the trash, but the reality is that it has been too much work for me to pick up the box, wash the many vegetables that arrive, find space for them in our cramped fridge, and then come up with inventive recipes my family will eat from these many random vegetables. I wanted corn and tomatoes and salad greens and beans and cucumbers. That is not what we received.
Also, and this is going to sound ridiculous, I cannot remember to pick up my vegetables from 4-7pm on Thursdays. I just can't. The number of times I have emailed the poor drop-off woman to ask if I can come tomorrow, are too many to count. She must think I am the hugest idiot ever, but I think it is just pregnancy and a toddler and a tendency to stay home on Thursdays for Gabe to have downtime after his toddler program on Mondays and Wednesdays.
I signed up in March when I wasn't pregnant, and when I thought it was a fabulous idea for us to receive fresh vegetables and expand our horizons and I could make and freeze baby food. Turns out, not so much. So we will not be doing our share again next year, and I'll be buying my cauliflower and broccoli and spinach at our local farmer's market or grocery store, and I suspect I'll be much happier for it.
My dreams of being a sexy farmgirl will just have to fall by the wayside.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
I know nobody wants to talk about poop, but...
Today marks the first day of the last month before my due date. You see, yesterday was November 19th, and that means that from here on out, when someone asks me when I'm due, I can simply say "the 19th" and there are no other 19ths between now and then. My countdown clock says 28 days to go, and I assume that is because it doesn't count today or the actual 19th. This is a little mind-blowing, to tell you the truth, and a tiny bit distressing because yesterday Josh turned to me on the couch and said, "Wow, we're getting close, aren't we? What- we have maybe 7 weeks to go or something?" Yes dear, or something. Talk about denial on his part!
I'm feeling good this week, and I attribute that to the head down position of the baby, which has caused fewer contractions than normal, and also to the fact that we made some serious headway on Gabe's 'big boy' room over the weekend. We still have a ways to go, though. Gabe's clothes and books and general stuff are still in the nursery, and none of the baby's clothing has been unpacked from the attic, but at least there is a painted bedroom with actual furniture and an actual bed and bedding in the new room for Gabe. He isn't even remotely close to sleeping in there, but I'm relieved that it is done. I'm hoping this weekend will bring more change and advancement on the decorating aspect of the room, and then I promise some cute pictures. Or at least, I think they're cute!
My major complaint these days, and if you could see me I'm grimacing over here to even bring this up, is majorly serious constipation. Like terrible, very bad, no good constipation. This has been a feature of this pregnancy since, oh, day 3. I'm trying everything these days. Loads of water, fruits and vegetables, coffee, straight fiber supplements, bran cereal, yogurt, and I still need major help. My OB is threatening medication, but I'd like to avoid it if I can. So here is where you come in- everyone has advice on this topic, right? Please please please share yours! I can definitely use all the help I can get! Put the shame aside! Share galore!
I'm feeling good this week, and I attribute that to the head down position of the baby, which has caused fewer contractions than normal, and also to the fact that we made some serious headway on Gabe's 'big boy' room over the weekend. We still have a ways to go, though. Gabe's clothes and books and general stuff are still in the nursery, and none of the baby's clothing has been unpacked from the attic, but at least there is a painted bedroom with actual furniture and an actual bed and bedding in the new room for Gabe. He isn't even remotely close to sleeping in there, but I'm relieved that it is done. I'm hoping this weekend will bring more change and advancement on the decorating aspect of the room, and then I promise some cute pictures. Or at least, I think they're cute!
My major complaint these days, and if you could see me I'm grimacing over here to even bring this up, is majorly serious constipation. Like terrible, very bad, no good constipation. This has been a feature of this pregnancy since, oh, day 3. I'm trying everything these days. Loads of water, fruits and vegetables, coffee, straight fiber supplements, bran cereal, yogurt, and I still need major help. My OB is threatening medication, but I'd like to avoid it if I can. So here is where you come in- everyone has advice on this topic, right? Please please please share yours! I can definitely use all the help I can get! Put the shame aside! Share galore!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I think cookies will help
On Friday, I lay on the couch for 2 hours with 5 pillows under my pelvis and my head slanted downward. When I stood back up, I endured an hour of heartburn, acid reflux, and nausea. I told myself, though, that if the baby turned, it was worth it. On Saturday, I sat on the floor on all fours with my butt in the air and my head resting on a pillow, cursing my sore back, but I thought, if the baby turns, it'll be worth it. On Sunday, I woke up and thought, I think the baby might have turned. So I did nothing, except jump up and down and squat and try to get that head to jam itself into the appropriate places.
And yesterday, I went to the doctor, and VOILA, the baby is turned! Head down, and according to her, pretty engaged in the birth canal. We both agree, however, that the baby appears to have lots of space in my uterus right now and could easily turn back, so her medical advice was, "Don't do anything strange that might make the baby turn back." Uh-huh. I'll make sure to follow that advice. But what exactly qualifies as strange? Does poking the baby constantly to make sure it is still head down qualify as annoying to the baby?
Thanks for your well-wishes! Keep sending "stay head down" thoughts our way!
And yesterday, I went to the doctor, and VOILA, the baby is turned! Head down, and according to her, pretty engaged in the birth canal. We both agree, however, that the baby appears to have lots of space in my uterus right now and could easily turn back, so her medical advice was, "Don't do anything strange that might make the baby turn back." Uh-huh. I'll make sure to follow that advice. But what exactly qualifies as strange? Does poking the baby constantly to make sure it is still head down qualify as annoying to the baby?
Thanks for your well-wishes! Keep sending "stay head down" thoughts our way!
Friday, November 14, 2008
definitely bootylicious
Wait, wait, wait...
I cannot believe I forgot to mention this, but after all the drama with the placenta, this baby is breech. BREECH. As in, butt first in the birth canal, must turn before a vaginal birth can take place. I was calm about this initially, as was the OB, but as the appointments have continued and 002 continues to remain in the same position, all parties have become a bit more nervous.
At 30 weeks, the OB blew it off. At 32 weeks, she said she was sure the baby would turn. At 34 weeks, she started to seem a little more nervous, and now at my appointment on Monday, 35 and a half weeks, I have an ultrasound scheduled to confirm the breech position and discuss "options". Since last week, I've started doing yoga poses, on hands and knees with my head resting against the floor and my butt in the air while I sway it from side to side, hoping to dislodge the baby and encourage him or her to flip. I poke and prod and try to manually shove his or her head out of my ribs and toward the bottom of my stomach.
I'm pulling out all the stops. I'm getting the ironing board from the basement, and I plan to hang upside down on it while leaning it against the couch. I'm listening to my hypnobirthing cd and reciting to myself that my uterus is flexible enough and large enough to allow the baby to turn. If Monday's ultrasound shows the same position, I'm calling some acupuncture experts. I'll try moxibustion, I'll do cartwheels, I'll run laps, I'll even beg the baby to please cooperate. My OB thinks that trying to manually turn the baby is pretty ineffective, but we'll probably try that too.
I'm frustrated, I can't lie. I find myself feeling irrationally annoyed at this baby when I again yelp at the hard head pressing itself into my rib cage. It feels like you have a bruise and someone keeps poking your bruise in the same spot again and again and again. The baby kicks me hard in the organs and the cervix and in all kinds of tender places at the bottom of my belly. I keep having contractions and sharp pains that make me double over, and I suspect it is this wonky position.
The one thing I'm wondering, though, is that if I'm doing all of these things together to get the baby to turn, what happens if he or she turns and then I continue doing the exercises because I can't be 100% certain the baby has turned, and then he or she just keeps turning and turning and turning. Should I do the exercises until I suspect 002 has turned and then stop? But what if Monday's ultrasound shows I'm wrong?
Do you think Tom Cruise would lend me his ultrasound machine? Should I harass my OB daily and demand ultrasounds? Maybe I should freaking STOP OBSESSING over this and get to nesting?
I cannot believe I forgot to mention this, but after all the drama with the placenta, this baby is breech. BREECH. As in, butt first in the birth canal, must turn before a vaginal birth can take place. I was calm about this initially, as was the OB, but as the appointments have continued and 002 continues to remain in the same position, all parties have become a bit more nervous.
At 30 weeks, the OB blew it off. At 32 weeks, she said she was sure the baby would turn. At 34 weeks, she started to seem a little more nervous, and now at my appointment on Monday, 35 and a half weeks, I have an ultrasound scheduled to confirm the breech position and discuss "options". Since last week, I've started doing yoga poses, on hands and knees with my head resting against the floor and my butt in the air while I sway it from side to side, hoping to dislodge the baby and encourage him or her to flip. I poke and prod and try to manually shove his or her head out of my ribs and toward the bottom of my stomach.
I'm pulling out all the stops. I'm getting the ironing board from the basement, and I plan to hang upside down on it while leaning it against the couch. I'm listening to my hypnobirthing cd and reciting to myself that my uterus is flexible enough and large enough to allow the baby to turn. If Monday's ultrasound shows the same position, I'm calling some acupuncture experts. I'll try moxibustion, I'll do cartwheels, I'll run laps, I'll even beg the baby to please cooperate. My OB thinks that trying to manually turn the baby is pretty ineffective, but we'll probably try that too.
I'm frustrated, I can't lie. I find myself feeling irrationally annoyed at this baby when I again yelp at the hard head pressing itself into my rib cage. It feels like you have a bruise and someone keeps poking your bruise in the same spot again and again and again. The baby kicks me hard in the organs and the cervix and in all kinds of tender places at the bottom of my belly. I keep having contractions and sharp pains that make me double over, and I suspect it is this wonky position.
The one thing I'm wondering, though, is that if I'm doing all of these things together to get the baby to turn, what happens if he or she turns and then I continue doing the exercises because I can't be 100% certain the baby has turned, and then he or she just keeps turning and turning and turning. Should I do the exercises until I suspect 002 has turned and then stop? But what if Monday's ultrasound shows I'm wrong?
Do you think Tom Cruise would lend me his ultrasound machine? Should I harass my OB daily and demand ultrasounds? Maybe I should freaking STOP OBSESSING over this and get to nesting?
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
hormones anyone?
I may possibly, potentially, be the teensiest, tiniest bit hormonal.
I was driving home from my dentist appointment, where I had ANOTHER cavity, which frustrates me to no end because no one (seriously NO ONE) is more obsessive over their teeth. I brush and floss obsessively, I think that in all the years of my life, I cannot remember even once. Not even once! That I went to bed without brushing my teeth. My mom says even when I was a toddler, if I fell asleep in the car and they carried me to my bed, I'd pop my eyes open and insist that I needed to brush my teeth. I've complained repeatedly to the dentist about it, and I am so angry that despite what I do, I continue to get cavities. Grrrr.
Anyway, I'm digressing. Let's get back to my hormones.
I'm driving home from the dentist, where I was able to say to him, "I'm having this baby in about a month," because I am! Today is November 12th, and my due date is November 19th, so I have 5 weeks and I consider 5 weeks, or 36 days, to be about a month. So I'm driving, and reflecting on that craziness, and suddenly I think, "In a month, my baby won't be my baby anymore because I'll have a new baby."
And I dissolved into sobs that I could barely control for the rest of the drive home. I mean, I know, he'll always be my baby, blah blah blah, but still. I'm having a baby, and I'm terrified that this new baby will take the role of my current baby, who is still truly a baby! A crazy talking, laughing, running, jumping, playing baby, but still my baby. In another month and a half, he'll be two! No more referring to him in months! Now I'll have to say he's two and that sounds giant to me. Plus, I'll have this new demanding little person who will most definitely be an actual baby, and although I'm beyond excited to meet him or her, I'm also so sad and guilt-ridden that I'm displacing Gabe. Sigh.
My mom was assuring me while I was crying that he'll always be my baby, and even at 30, I'm still her baby, but I'm still sad and sniffly. There are so many changes these days, it's so much to take in and so much in the way of adjusting. We're painting Gabe's big boy room today, setting up his new bed this weekend, he's been peeing and pooping in the potty (of his own accord, a topic for another post), he chats up a storm and has even taken to bossing me around with his demands. Today I dropped him off at the toddler program and he wouldn't even say goodbye before running off to join the other children with the playdough. I know everyone says they grow up too fast, but damn it, it's true! Gabe is growing up too fast. I just gave birth to him, and all of a sudden he is this amazing kid that just keeps getting bigger. Any tips on how to make it stop?
I was driving home from my dentist appointment, where I had ANOTHER cavity, which frustrates me to no end because no one (seriously NO ONE) is more obsessive over their teeth. I brush and floss obsessively, I think that in all the years of my life, I cannot remember even once. Not even once! That I went to bed without brushing my teeth. My mom says even when I was a toddler, if I fell asleep in the car and they carried me to my bed, I'd pop my eyes open and insist that I needed to brush my teeth. I've complained repeatedly to the dentist about it, and I am so angry that despite what I do, I continue to get cavities. Grrrr.
Anyway, I'm digressing. Let's get back to my hormones.
I'm driving home from the dentist, where I was able to say to him, "I'm having this baby in about a month," because I am! Today is November 12th, and my due date is November 19th, so I have 5 weeks and I consider 5 weeks, or 36 days, to be about a month. So I'm driving, and reflecting on that craziness, and suddenly I think, "In a month, my baby won't be my baby anymore because I'll have a new baby."
And I dissolved into sobs that I could barely control for the rest of the drive home. I mean, I know, he'll always be my baby, blah blah blah, but still. I'm having a baby, and I'm terrified that this new baby will take the role of my current baby, who is still truly a baby! A crazy talking, laughing, running, jumping, playing baby, but still my baby. In another month and a half, he'll be two! No more referring to him in months! Now I'll have to say he's two and that sounds giant to me. Plus, I'll have this new demanding little person who will most definitely be an actual baby, and although I'm beyond excited to meet him or her, I'm also so sad and guilt-ridden that I'm displacing Gabe. Sigh.
My mom was assuring me while I was crying that he'll always be my baby, and even at 30, I'm still her baby, but I'm still sad and sniffly. There are so many changes these days, it's so much to take in and so much in the way of adjusting. We're painting Gabe's big boy room today, setting up his new bed this weekend, he's been peeing and pooping in the potty (of his own accord, a topic for another post), he chats up a storm and has even taken to bossing me around with his demands. Today I dropped him off at the toddler program and he wouldn't even say goodbye before running off to join the other children with the playdough. I know everyone says they grow up too fast, but damn it, it's true! Gabe is growing up too fast. I just gave birth to him, and all of a sudden he is this amazing kid that just keeps getting bigger. Any tips on how to make it stop?
Monday, November 10, 2008
samma has a lot to say
My Jewish son turned to me over the weekend and out of the blue said, "Mama! Samma say HO HO HO!"
His inflection was perfect, and he'd even accomplished a deeper than normal HO HO HO, but I still thought I must have heard wrong. So I asked what an owl says, "Whoo, whoo," he replied. "And what does Santa say?" "Ho ho ho!" Clear as a bell.
We have no idea where he got it from, since I haven't been talking about Santa, and the toddler program woman claims she hates Santa and wouldn't have talked about it, and plus, Halloween just happened! Who is talking about Santa already? He watches some television, but everything is pre-recorded, so no commercials.
Do kids just absorb Santa by osmosis? It's a mystery, but I told Josh that unless his Jewish kid comes home talking about Jesus or claiming the Jesus will save him, we probably don't need to worry.
His inflection was perfect, and he'd even accomplished a deeper than normal HO HO HO, but I still thought I must have heard wrong. So I asked what an owl says, "Whoo, whoo," he replied. "And what does Santa say?" "Ho ho ho!" Clear as a bell.
We have no idea where he got it from, since I haven't been talking about Santa, and the toddler program woman claims she hates Santa and wouldn't have talked about it, and plus, Halloween just happened! Who is talking about Santa already? He watches some television, but everything is pre-recorded, so no commercials.
Do kids just absorb Santa by osmosis? It's a mystery, but I told Josh that unless his Jewish kid comes home talking about Jesus or claiming the Jesus will save him, we probably don't need to worry.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
health insurance shmealth insurance
I don't know if this is typical and we've just been lucky thus far, but we're having serious issues with our health insurance. In the last 6 months, they've tried to deny claim after claim after claim. Sometimes the letters say that our policy ended (when it didn't), sometimes it says that services aren't covered (when they are), or today, they said they'd already paid the claim (definitely not).
It is becoming infuriating and frustrating, because I often have to sit on the phone for hours with them trying to argue my way through to payment. The other day they claimed that because my name was misspelled on my insurance card, they weren't going to pay for bloodwork ordered by my OB's office. Mind you, I've notified them 3 times about the fact that my name is misspelled on the card, and they never thought it was a crucial fact until now.
When we were in Florida visiting my inlaws, I had to rush Gabe to an emergency clinic because he had a massive ear infection and started throwing up and screaming while clutching his ear (turns out his ear drum ruptured). No one in Florida would take our particular insurance because they said they were never willing to pay the claims. I had to call the insurance company and spend hours on the phone getting an authorization for us to visit a clinic, and they gave me a claim number so I could submit the receipts and get paid for the two visits (one urgent, one follow-up). Today's letter informed me that they already paid me for these two visits, even though they most definitely, assuredly, have not. I think I would notice if I had those $300 I paid out of pocket.
I am so annoyed! Is this typical? Or is this because of the bad economy? Are the insurance companies trying to get away with not paying for standard claims to save money? I'm just so stinking tired of this, and if one member of our family wasn't staying home (i.e., me), I'm not sure who would have time to make these calls. By the way, this is a very common health insurance, not some podunk random one. It is probably one of the largest in the country. So why is this happening and what can I do to stop it? I'm already dreading the nonsense that is going to result after I have this baby. We're probably going to get billed for $500,000 or something similarly insane. Ugh.
It is becoming infuriating and frustrating, because I often have to sit on the phone for hours with them trying to argue my way through to payment. The other day they claimed that because my name was misspelled on my insurance card, they weren't going to pay for bloodwork ordered by my OB's office. Mind you, I've notified them 3 times about the fact that my name is misspelled on the card, and they never thought it was a crucial fact until now.
When we were in Florida visiting my inlaws, I had to rush Gabe to an emergency clinic because he had a massive ear infection and started throwing up and screaming while clutching his ear (turns out his ear drum ruptured). No one in Florida would take our particular insurance because they said they were never willing to pay the claims. I had to call the insurance company and spend hours on the phone getting an authorization for us to visit a clinic, and they gave me a claim number so I could submit the receipts and get paid for the two visits (one urgent, one follow-up). Today's letter informed me that they already paid me for these two visits, even though they most definitely, assuredly, have not. I think I would notice if I had those $300 I paid out of pocket.
I am so annoyed! Is this typical? Or is this because of the bad economy? Are the insurance companies trying to get away with not paying for standard claims to save money? I'm just so stinking tired of this, and if one member of our family wasn't staying home (i.e., me), I'm not sure who would have time to make these calls. By the way, this is a very common health insurance, not some podunk random one. It is probably one of the largest in the country. So why is this happening and what can I do to stop it? I'm already dreading the nonsense that is going to result after I have this baby. We're probably going to get billed for $500,000 or something similarly insane. Ugh.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
fyi, if you come over for dinner
Last night we had a hopeful celebratory dinner of pot roast in the slow cooker. I set Gabe up on the counter next to me and chopped up potatoes, carrots, and celery, handed them over to him in little piles and he would place them in the slow cooker. He was very good at his job, until we got to the carrots, at which point he licked each and every little carrot slice before placing it in the slow cooker.
Seasoning, I guess.
Seasoning, I guess.
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