I think it was about 2:30 pm when we got to the hospital. They decided to conservatively estimate my water breakage as happening at midnight the night before. Therefore I was given a scant two hours to go into labor on my own.
My folks had already been on their way down when we called them from the delivery room so it didn't take them the full hour to arrive. Mr. b and Kirk went back home with Papa to prepare two overnight bags: one for Kirk and one for me. My mom stayed with me. Not that I was worried about having the baby on my own. I just was bored and didn't have so much as a magazine to read! We decided that since I still had another half hour before my deadline that we would walk the halls of the maternity ward and see if that could kick start things. It was weird reminiscing about how things had been laid out when I had Kirk (they were undergoing major remodeling then). I was actually sort of creeped out by the floor. I didn't want to have to hear anyone screaming during their deliveries. Thankfully it was pretty empty then. But every time we passed the doors to the caesarian surgery theater I had to suppress a shudder. I've never been knocked out for anything - heck, I even have all my wisdom teeth - and I've certainly never been cut open. I suppose if it was an emergency I'd get over my hang-up in a hurry but it definitely weirded me out.
I was also a bit freaked out by the prospect of having pitocin. I had never heard anything but horror stories about how it makes everything hurt so much more. So at about 4:30 my time was up and I was going to have to get an IV, thereby tying me to the bed for the rest of the ordeal. I asked the nurse about pitocin as she was trying valiantly to find a vein for the IV (she ended up with the back of my right hand - same spot as for Kirk's delivery). Apparently it's not that it makes labor hurt more. It's that it makes the contractions come on faster and stronger. Seems like a pretty fine distinction to me. But she also assured me that they administer the hormone in stages and that often it doesn't take much to kick start the body into action on its own.
They also put me on antibiotics again. With Kirk it was because I hadn't had the Strep B test yet. Well, we did that early this time and I knew I was negative. But since it had been 18 hours since the presumptive breaking of my sack of waters they wanted to just be on the safe side. Not that it mattered to me; I already had the IV in so just adding something else to it really didn't make any difference.
I definitely started to feel contractions by 5:30pm but they weren't really anything major yet. By this point the boys had returned and I was still able to actively converse. And I was hungry, having missed lunch, but they wouldn't let me eat much of anything. I had some jell-o and some graham crackers, some 7-Up and some water. I had a fetal monitor as well as a contraction monitor strapped to me and I had a button to push every time I felt the girl move. She was pushing her butt out against my right ribs with each contraction. I could actually sense her moving lower by where her butt was hitting!
My parents left with Kirk at about 6:15 pm. I was starting to have to actually focus as each contraction came, though I was still fine in between. They were definitely picking up speed though. The nurse had only turned the pitocin up once so I guess my body had picked up the slack on its own. My cervix had been checked back when I first was admitted and I was only dilated to like 3 cm and barely effaced at all. Since my amniotic sack had been broken they didn't want to check again for a while and so waited until 7 pm. By then the labor hurt. A lot. So I was beyond dismayed to learn that I was only at frickin' 4 cm. I couldn't believe that shit. The news that I was also 100% effaced didn't make me feel better at all. The nurse asked if I wanted to have nubain and I quickly agreed. Frankly I didn't see how it was going to do me any good if I still had six centimeters to go!
I felt very tripped out when the nubain hit my system. I don't remember there being such an obvious drug effect when I had it during Kirk's labor. But it helped. Instead of the pain of each contraction being stabby, it was more rounded. Most definitely still there but somehow less intense. I was able to relax somewhat. Mr. b asked what he could do and I just had him pet me: rub my back, rub my head and neck, smooth my hair. He crawled up onto the bed and snuggled against my back. Because by this point the girl was low enough they couldn't pick her up via the fetal monitor with me laying on my back. I was laying on my left side and Mr. b was spooning me.
And then something happened. I can only describe it as feeling the way that a snapped rubber band sounds. And then I was bearing down. I jabbed frantically at the bedside call button and shouted, "Something changed!"
My theory is that I went from 4 cm to the full 10 cm in an instant.
My own memory is hazy here. Mr. b says there were millions of nurses suddenly in the room, all discussing what was happening. They helped me roll onto my back and got my legs up into pushing position. There was no chance of finding the girl's heartbeat so I just pushed. And pushed. And pushed. I didn't think I could keep going. I had no strength left for another push until I heard Mr. b assure me that she was almost out. One more push and I felt her head come through and the rest of her body slide out. I heard her cry. It had been maybe five minutes, if that.
My doctor didn't make it.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Here's What Happened: Part 1
My water broke.
See, that just sounds so dramatic, doesn't it? You get a vision of a complete flood of fluid gushing out and making a mess. And maybe that's true for some women. For me it was more like a slow leak. And I didn't even pay any attention to it for hours. I had noted to myself that it was definitely a damp night. But since the doctor had just checked me out on that Monday and confirmed it was not amniotic fluid I just didn't really pay much attention. Saturday mornings are my designated sleep-in day of the weekend and I wasn't about to give up that extra sack time.
Mr. b had a hair cut appointment at Noon so I did finally get up and get dressed - showered and everything! - before we all left. I had planned to have a nice afternoon hanging out with Kirk in Dinkytown. We dropped Mr. b off and walked down to the bookstore that has kitties and puppies and birds and fishies as residents. I figured we could browse for a while and then get some lunch. But Kirk decided to be a royal jerk instead. After several stern talkings-to that made no difference, I finally dragged him outta there while he was screaming, "I wanna be nice! I wanna be nice!" So we set off on a brisk walk around the block to get him to calm down. My folks called while we were walking (Kirk was still alternating between, "I don't like you, Mama!" and "I wanna be nice!") to check up on me but I was frankly too focused on the bratty three year old by my side and blew them off. Kirk finally calmed down after several blocks and we made our way back to the hair place.
Mr. b's haircut was nearly done so we decided to just wait there. Kirk asked to use the bathroom and since preggos have to go all the time, too, I took the opportunity to pee as long as I was in there with him. And that's when I noticed that the discharge was sort of pinkish.
I got on the phone and called my insurance company's nurse line to ask if amniotic fluid was pink. The answer was, "It can be." So then I had to try to get a hold of my doctor. Of course my clinic's phone system is being upgraded and it was offline that weekend. The answering service took my message and all we could do was wait. But I didn't feel in the least bit like I was about to go into labor. We walked over to Mr. b's old cafe and got drinks, joking with his former employees that I was going to be having the baby that day. We figured that we'd just start heading towards the hospital. Doc called when we had just started out and suggested the same thing: just head to the hospital. They can confirm if it's really amniotic fluid or not.
When we got to the hospital, same place I delivered Kirk, I still had my unfinished chai in hand. We calmly walked into the emergency room and I stated that I needed to find out if my water had broken or not. With Kirk I was fully in labor at that point and don't really remember the bureaucracy we dealt with there. We just walked ourselves up to the maternity ward this time and I stated the same thing when we arrived. All while still working on my chai. They got us a room and I changed into a hospital gown. I had had one single contraction during the drive up and nothing since then. Kirk thought it was just neat to be at a doctor place where he wasn't the patient.
Our nurse went through all the various questions that I guess they have to ask for this process. He was pretty funny about them so it was quick and easy. He did dismiss my boys while he took the sample for testing. And the verdict was: I was going to be having a baby. It was indeed amniotic fluid and therefore the sterile environment was breached and the baby was coming out. Period.
I felt rather bewildered by all this. I mean, aren't you supposed to, I don't know, actually be going into labor when that sort of pronouncement is made? Everything was pretty much the exact opposite of how it went down with Kirk. Well, once again we laughed off the ridiculous idea of having a birth plan and once again we didn't have an overnight bag prepared but everything else was completely different. I had called my parents back on the drive to the hospital to ask them if they could come get Kirk depending on the results of the test. So I called them once again to confirm that Mom is indeed psychic and I was having the baby and Kirk would need someplace to stay.
See, that just sounds so dramatic, doesn't it? You get a vision of a complete flood of fluid gushing out and making a mess. And maybe that's true for some women. For me it was more like a slow leak. And I didn't even pay any attention to it for hours. I had noted to myself that it was definitely a damp night. But since the doctor had just checked me out on that Monday and confirmed it was not amniotic fluid I just didn't really pay much attention. Saturday mornings are my designated sleep-in day of the weekend and I wasn't about to give up that extra sack time.
Mr. b had a hair cut appointment at Noon so I did finally get up and get dressed - showered and everything! - before we all left. I had planned to have a nice afternoon hanging out with Kirk in Dinkytown. We dropped Mr. b off and walked down to the bookstore that has kitties and puppies and birds and fishies as residents. I figured we could browse for a while and then get some lunch. But Kirk decided to be a royal jerk instead. After several stern talkings-to that made no difference, I finally dragged him outta there while he was screaming, "I wanna be nice! I wanna be nice!" So we set off on a brisk walk around the block to get him to calm down. My folks called while we were walking (Kirk was still alternating between, "I don't like you, Mama!" and "I wanna be nice!") to check up on me but I was frankly too focused on the bratty three year old by my side and blew them off. Kirk finally calmed down after several blocks and we made our way back to the hair place.
Mr. b's haircut was nearly done so we decided to just wait there. Kirk asked to use the bathroom and since preggos have to go all the time, too, I took the opportunity to pee as long as I was in there with him. And that's when I noticed that the discharge was sort of pinkish.
I got on the phone and called my insurance company's nurse line to ask if amniotic fluid was pink. The answer was, "It can be." So then I had to try to get a hold of my doctor. Of course my clinic's phone system is being upgraded and it was offline that weekend. The answering service took my message and all we could do was wait. But I didn't feel in the least bit like I was about to go into labor. We walked over to Mr. b's old cafe and got drinks, joking with his former employees that I was going to be having the baby that day. We figured that we'd just start heading towards the hospital. Doc called when we had just started out and suggested the same thing: just head to the hospital. They can confirm if it's really amniotic fluid or not.
When we got to the hospital, same place I delivered Kirk, I still had my unfinished chai in hand. We calmly walked into the emergency room and I stated that I needed to find out if my water had broken or not. With Kirk I was fully in labor at that point and don't really remember the bureaucracy we dealt with there. We just walked ourselves up to the maternity ward this time and I stated the same thing when we arrived. All while still working on my chai. They got us a room and I changed into a hospital gown. I had had one single contraction during the drive up and nothing since then. Kirk thought it was just neat to be at a doctor place where he wasn't the patient.
Our nurse went through all the various questions that I guess they have to ask for this process. He was pretty funny about them so it was quick and easy. He did dismiss my boys while he took the sample for testing. And the verdict was: I was going to be having a baby. It was indeed amniotic fluid and therefore the sterile environment was breached and the baby was coming out. Period.
I felt rather bewildered by all this. I mean, aren't you supposed to, I don't know, actually be going into labor when that sort of pronouncement is made? Everything was pretty much the exact opposite of how it went down with Kirk. Well, once again we laughed off the ridiculous idea of having a birth plan and once again we didn't have an overnight bag prepared but everything else was completely different. I had called my parents back on the drive to the hospital to ask them if they could come get Kirk depending on the results of the test. So I called them once again to confirm that Mom is indeed psychic and I was having the baby and Kirk would need someplace to stay.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
The Boob Barnacle
I'm kind of perplexed by breast feeding. The actual nursing seems to be going fine. Veronica gained another two and a half ounces as of her Monday check-up. We'll have one more weight check next Monday and then we should be able to get on the normal well baby visits schedule.
My boobs are definitely heavy with milk. I haven't had any kind of painful engorgement to deal with, thankfully, but there's certainly no shortage of boobie juice for the girl. And yet I can't get anything from pumping. It's very frustrating. My sister loaned me her pump and it seems to be a good one and yet I'm only getting about an ounce of milk. Per day. Both boobs combined. I tried using the manual pump yesterday and it was the same results. I had a rental hospital pump with Kirk and that thing worked great. And I don't remember it making my nipples so sore afterwards either. I'm going to have to figure something out by the time I go back to work or else I'll be forced to wean just by dint of having my supply dry up.
Mr. b tried bottle feeding Ronnie for the first time Tuesday night. I thought it seemed like a good idea until he was actually doing it. I was appalled at how pathetic the fridge supply of milk was after all the pumping I had done. I was horrified at how quickly it was gone. And I felt utterly useless. My sole purpose has been to feed this child and I felt like my only job had been taken away from me. I sulked in the bedroom all night.
I'm certainly not afraid of formula. But with Kirk he was on both breast and bottle, both milk and formula from literal day one. So I never had the mental paradigm shift to handle. That's just how things were. Mr. b and I split the nights into shifts and took turns. He also had a different job then which allowed him to often be home during the day on occasion. So it felt like more of a team effort. Now it feels like it's just me. Which is both stressful and also great. Kirk hasn't wanted his mama for months now so at least this gives me something to do. But it's also wreaking havoc with the crazy post-partum hormone emotion roller coaster.
My boobs are definitely heavy with milk. I haven't had any kind of painful engorgement to deal with, thankfully, but there's certainly no shortage of boobie juice for the girl. And yet I can't get anything from pumping. It's very frustrating. My sister loaned me her pump and it seems to be a good one and yet I'm only getting about an ounce of milk. Per day. Both boobs combined. I tried using the manual pump yesterday and it was the same results. I had a rental hospital pump with Kirk and that thing worked great. And I don't remember it making my nipples so sore afterwards either. I'm going to have to figure something out by the time I go back to work or else I'll be forced to wean just by dint of having my supply dry up.
Mr. b tried bottle feeding Ronnie for the first time Tuesday night. I thought it seemed like a good idea until he was actually doing it. I was appalled at how pathetic the fridge supply of milk was after all the pumping I had done. I was horrified at how quickly it was gone. And I felt utterly useless. My sole purpose has been to feed this child and I felt like my only job had been taken away from me. I sulked in the bedroom all night.
I'm certainly not afraid of formula. But with Kirk he was on both breast and bottle, both milk and formula from literal day one. So I never had the mental paradigm shift to handle. That's just how things were. Mr. b and I split the nights into shifts and took turns. He also had a different job then which allowed him to often be home during the day on occasion. So it felt like more of a team effort. Now it feels like it's just me. Which is both stressful and also great. Kirk hasn't wanted his mama for months now so at least this gives me something to do. But it's also wreaking havoc with the crazy post-partum hormone emotion roller coaster.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Sleep, Eat, Poop
The biggest difference between Ronnie and Kirk so far is that she's nursing. Kirk was nearly a pound smaller and just didn't have the sucking reflex down at all. Plus since he was in the Level II nursery for a week I never got a chance to really spend time figuring it out with him. It was all about measurable amounts of fluid, breast milk or formula, to get him to gain weight. So it was kind of weird to have Ronnie in the hospital room with me and to be released before the full 48 hours were even up.
However, she's still small so jaundice is a very real issue. She's definitely yellowish in her face and halfway down her chest. Her extremities remain pink. But she's eating well and has been pooping the real breast fed baby poop instead of just the newborn meconium so the bilirubin is definitely being expunged. Just not as fast as we might like.
The homecare nurse came to check us out on Wednesday and found that Ronnie had dropped down to 5 pounds 8 ounces. She was down to 5lb 11oz when we left the hospital, and a weight drop is completely normal, but this was only 1 ounce off from the 10% birth weight benchmark. So the nurse suggested we bump up our first well baby visit to Thursday instead of next week. Ronnie was back up to 5lb 10oz at the clinic but who knows if that's because she had just eaten and she was totally hungry the day before. Either way, her weight is looking good and she's already grown a half inch in height. The doc wanted to have her blood checked though and get a bilirubin count. Since she was on the edge of intermediate and high levels, we took her in again this morning for the same blood work. This time it dropped, only very slightly, but at least it didn't go up. Jaundice apparently peaks on day 4 or 5 after birth so again, that all lines up. Doc decided that she should be fine over the weekend and doesn't need to have any UV treatment. At least it would have been an at-home option (they have some kind of a psychedelic light blanket now) so it's not like we would have had to take her in or anything. He'll check her out again on Monday.
Basically the weekend plan is lots of boobie milk and laying in patches of sunshine whenever possible. Nursing is very sweet but man alive do my nipples take a beating. Ronnie hasn't settled into any kind of feeding pattern yet so it's pretty much every 2 hours no matter what. She's gone as long as 4 hours between sessions but then she's also had at least one cluster feeding every day where she wants to eat about every 30 minutes for a good 2 to 3 hours. Those seem to be happening in the middle of the night so I need to start going to bed earlier just to combat that insanity. We'll figure it out. Strangely, all the trouble I had with Kirk is benefitting me now. I already knew about various techniques for latching her on, breaking the seal, getting her to swallow, and on and on. Only this time I can put that knowledge to use. I'll start pumping next week and then Mr. b can take some of the feedings. He's been awesome, changing all the diapers and doing nearly all of the Kirk care. But I know he wishes he could do more.
However, she's still small so jaundice is a very real issue. She's definitely yellowish in her face and halfway down her chest. Her extremities remain pink. But she's eating well and has been pooping the real breast fed baby poop instead of just the newborn meconium so the bilirubin is definitely being expunged. Just not as fast as we might like.
The homecare nurse came to check us out on Wednesday and found that Ronnie had dropped down to 5 pounds 8 ounces. She was down to 5lb 11oz when we left the hospital, and a weight drop is completely normal, but this was only 1 ounce off from the 10% birth weight benchmark. So the nurse suggested we bump up our first well baby visit to Thursday instead of next week. Ronnie was back up to 5lb 10oz at the clinic but who knows if that's because she had just eaten and she was totally hungry the day before. Either way, her weight is looking good and she's already grown a half inch in height. The doc wanted to have her blood checked though and get a bilirubin count. Since she was on the edge of intermediate and high levels, we took her in again this morning for the same blood work. This time it dropped, only very slightly, but at least it didn't go up. Jaundice apparently peaks on day 4 or 5 after birth so again, that all lines up. Doc decided that she should be fine over the weekend and doesn't need to have any UV treatment. At least it would have been an at-home option (they have some kind of a psychedelic light blanket now) so it's not like we would have had to take her in or anything. He'll check her out again on Monday.
Basically the weekend plan is lots of boobie milk and laying in patches of sunshine whenever possible. Nursing is very sweet but man alive do my nipples take a beating. Ronnie hasn't settled into any kind of feeding pattern yet so it's pretty much every 2 hours no matter what. She's gone as long as 4 hours between sessions but then she's also had at least one cluster feeding every day where she wants to eat about every 30 minutes for a good 2 to 3 hours. Those seem to be happening in the middle of the night so I need to start going to bed earlier just to combat that insanity. We'll figure it out. Strangely, all the trouble I had with Kirk is benefitting me now. I already knew about various techniques for latching her on, breaking the seal, getting her to swallow, and on and on. Only this time I can put that knowledge to use. I'll start pumping next week and then Mr. b can take some of the feedings. He's been awesome, changing all the diapers and doing nearly all of the Kirk care. But I know he wishes he could do more.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Arrival!
Veronica Annette was born at 7:56pm on March 7th, 2009. She weighed 6 pounds 1 ounce and measured 18 and 1/4 inches long.
Friday, March 06, 2009
36 Weeks 5 Days
As of today I am officially more pregnant than I've ever been before. This is all new territory from here.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Silver Lining
OK, I've just been bitching non-stop of late so now here are some positives. Last night I didn't have a single contraction! Of course I still woke up to pee...but it was nice to not have to deal with any pains before falling back to sleep. In fact, since Monday afternoon I've really been feeling pretty darn good. Nothing at all like late last week or this weekend. That was truly miserable. I have zero clue what changed though. Was it psychological after my check-up? Did it take that long to "recover" from the barometric pressure shift? I know I've been told by women that have gone overdue that they hit a point late in their pregnancy where they stop feeling like hell and just sort of become resigned to their fate or something. Maybe my body went past its own internal due date and that's what happened to me? Honestly, anybody's guess is as good. I got nuthin'.
I do suspect that next week *could* be it since there's another weather system moving in and it's a full moon on the 11th. We'll see. Every day the little girl keeps cooking is a better chance that we'll avoid the Level II nursery this time.
I've also been blessed with the absence of two common pregnancy plagues: swelling and stretch marks. My legs have just the slightest bit of swelling but its really only enough to give me sock marks. I haven't had to deal with my shoes not fitting or my rings getting stuck on my fingers or anything like that. And I continue to be free of stretches on my belly. I escaped them with Kirk, too. Of course that could just be karma since I got plenty of nasty ones on the tops of my thighs when I put on considerable post-college weight thanks to an unexpected metabolism change. But I'll take it!
I do suspect that next week *could* be it since there's another weather system moving in and it's a full moon on the 11th. We'll see. Every day the little girl keeps cooking is a better chance that we'll avoid the Level II nursery this time.
I've also been blessed with the absence of two common pregnancy plagues: swelling and stretch marks. My legs have just the slightest bit of swelling but its really only enough to give me sock marks. I haven't had to deal with my shoes not fitting or my rings getting stuck on my fingers or anything like that. And I continue to be free of stretches on my belly. I escaped them with Kirk, too. Of course that could just be karma since I got plenty of nasty ones on the tops of my thighs when I put on considerable post-college weight thanks to an unexpected metabolism change. But I'll take it!
Monday, March 02, 2009
...Signifying Nothing
Nada. That’s how much more I’ve dilated since my last appointment. I must admit, I was pretty shocked. But New Doc explained that even though I’ve been having lots of contractions, they’re not steady enough or big enough to do much of anything. That makes sense but it sure doesn’t make me any less uncomfortable.
My extreme hunger has caused me to gain another three pounds, too.
The most interesting part of my visit this morning was all the checks that New Doc did to ensure that everything is on track and that the baby is safe and healthy. I made Mr. b go with me, just in case I got sent to the hospital, because I thought that I had leaked a tiny bit of amniotic fluid yesterday morning. It was certainly different than the usual discharge I’ve been used to seeing by this point. A few years back a friend started leaking when she was around 34 weeks but the baby’s head effectively blocked the leak and her water didn’t fully break so I knew that was a possibility. So first New Doc got out his little portable ultrasound and checked to make sure there were still lots of visible pockets of fluid. Check. Then he used a sterile, plastic speculum to take a look and visually confirm there were no leaks. Check. Then he used a litmus paper to check the pH of the vaginal sample and confirm it wasn’t fluid. Check. (Vag stuff is acid and amniotic fluid is basic. Chemistry is neat.)
So I continue to wait. And grin and bear it when the contractions come, knowing that nothing’s actually happening. I made my 37 week and 38 week appointments just now. We’ll see if I make it to either of them.
My extreme hunger has caused me to gain another three pounds, too.
The most interesting part of my visit this morning was all the checks that New Doc did to ensure that everything is on track and that the baby is safe and healthy. I made Mr. b go with me, just in case I got sent to the hospital, because I thought that I had leaked a tiny bit of amniotic fluid yesterday morning. It was certainly different than the usual discharge I’ve been used to seeing by this point. A few years back a friend started leaking when she was around 34 weeks but the baby’s head effectively blocked the leak and her water didn’t fully break so I knew that was a possibility. So first New Doc got out his little portable ultrasound and checked to make sure there were still lots of visible pockets of fluid. Check. Then he used a sterile, plastic speculum to take a look and visually confirm there were no leaks. Check. Then he used a litmus paper to check the pH of the vaginal sample and confirm it wasn’t fluid. Check. (Vag stuff is acid and amniotic fluid is basic. Chemistry is neat.)
So I continue to wait. And grin and bear it when the contractions come, knowing that nothing’s actually happening. I made my 37 week and 38 week appointments just now. We’ll see if I make it to either of them.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Timing
Thursday night Mr. b asked me if he thought I was going to make it through the weekend. I replied, "I honestly don't know."
We got a rather decent sized snow storm on Thursday afternoon. All evening I felt just shitty. Extra contraction-y and lethargic and weird. I figured it must be due to the barometric pressure change. I know a full moon can trigger labor so it made sense that the air pressure would, too. And then it would fit in with family mythology perfectly: when I was little I would ask "why" and "how come" questions of my uncle unendingly. Legend has it that one day he got sick of actually explaining things and exasperatedly responded, "It's the air pressure, [belsum]!" My parents have never let me live that down.
Yesterday morning I felt fine so it really seemed that it was, indeed, the air pressure.
But last night it started in again. Early evening and into the night the contractions started up. I wasn't timing them or anything but there was certainly a repetitive feeling. Almost a rhythm. They're lasting longer, though they still don't truly hurt. Very uncomfortable, yes. Obviously my body is preparing for birth. If I make it to my next appointment Monday morning I'm betting I'll have dilated considerably more. However, my new theory is gravity. Because I've been feeling this way late in the day I have to wonder if it's just because I've been upright all day. I've been joking that I don't need to be on bedrest because I just work at a computer. But I honestly felt a lot better last night once I stretched out on the couch.
And this morning I feel fine.
Other similarities that I'm going to keep my eye on include serious hunger in the evening, craving for protein (especially red meat), and insomnia for an hour from about 3:30am to 4:30am.
I wonder how long this pattern can keep up?
We got a rather decent sized snow storm on Thursday afternoon. All evening I felt just shitty. Extra contraction-y and lethargic and weird. I figured it must be due to the barometric pressure change. I know a full moon can trigger labor so it made sense that the air pressure would, too. And then it would fit in with family mythology perfectly: when I was little I would ask "why" and "how come" questions of my uncle unendingly. Legend has it that one day he got sick of actually explaining things and exasperatedly responded, "It's the air pressure, [belsum]!" My parents have never let me live that down.
Yesterday morning I felt fine so it really seemed that it was, indeed, the air pressure.
But last night it started in again. Early evening and into the night the contractions started up. I wasn't timing them or anything but there was certainly a repetitive feeling. Almost a rhythm. They're lasting longer, though they still don't truly hurt. Very uncomfortable, yes. Obviously my body is preparing for birth. If I make it to my next appointment Monday morning I'm betting I'll have dilated considerably more. However, my new theory is gravity. Because I've been feeling this way late in the day I have to wonder if it's just because I've been upright all day. I've been joking that I don't need to be on bedrest because I just work at a computer. But I honestly felt a lot better last night once I stretched out on the couch.
And this morning I feel fine.
Other similarities that I'm going to keep my eye on include serious hunger in the evening, craving for protein (especially red meat), and insomnia for an hour from about 3:30am to 4:30am.
I wonder how long this pattern can keep up?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Nesting
I’ve never understood the concept of nesting as an early indicator of labor readiness. I mean, isn’t the very point of being knocked up that you need to make your home welcome for the new arrival? That you’re going to have to clean and organize and just generally prepare for another human to share your space?
I have been doing some strange cleaning projects of late, however. But they’re once-every-year-or-longer things that have been bothering me for a while. I’ve been slowly wiping down all the tile on the bathroom walls. It’s never been done more than on an as-needed basis and it was driving me nuts. I took down the living room curtains and washed them last night. They were accumulating cat hair thanks to the stupid billis parting them to look out the windows. Since I was going to wash the bassinet cover anyway it seemed like a good time to do those as well.
Mr. b might be the one that’s done something more traditionally considered “nesting”. He embarked on a reorg of the basement! He claims it was merely a “good enough” cleaning but it’s amazing what a difference it has made. It always feels like there’s so much more livable space when you clear out the clutter and the dried up old stealth cat pukes that we never discovered.
I have, however, been feeling crafty. I finally completed Kirk’s requested Boppy pillow case using the remains of the Incredibles fleece he picked out around Halloween. I want to get back to the embroidery project I started a couple of months ago. And add some more to the rag rug in the kitchen. I also need to get started on the tomato hat I wanted to crochet for the girl. (Full disclosure: I bought the yarn when I was pregnant with Kirk and never made it then either so don’t hold your breath…)
I have been doing some strange cleaning projects of late, however. But they’re once-every-year-or-longer things that have been bothering me for a while. I’ve been slowly wiping down all the tile on the bathroom walls. It’s never been done more than on an as-needed basis and it was driving me nuts. I took down the living room curtains and washed them last night. They were accumulating cat hair thanks to the stupid billis parting them to look out the windows. Since I was going to wash the bassinet cover anyway it seemed like a good time to do those as well.
Mr. b might be the one that’s done something more traditionally considered “nesting”. He embarked on a reorg of the basement! He claims it was merely a “good enough” cleaning but it’s amazing what a difference it has made. It always feels like there’s so much more livable space when you clear out the clutter and the dried up old stealth cat pukes that we never discovered.
I have, however, been feeling crafty. I finally completed Kirk’s requested Boppy pillow case using the remains of the Incredibles fleece he picked out around Halloween. I want to get back to the embroidery project I started a couple of months ago. And add some more to the rag rug in the kitchen. I also need to get started on the tomato hat I wanted to crochet for the girl. (Full disclosure: I bought the yarn when I was pregnant with Kirk and never made it then either so don’t hold your breath…)
Friday, February 20, 2009
The End is Nigh?
Yesterday morning was my latest ob check-up. I’m at 34 and a half weeks and am already 2cm dilated. Now, New Doc made sure to mention that it’s really quite common for a non-first timer to be that dilated already but he’s also finally fully onboard the this-baby’s-comin’-early train. That’s the whole reason he did the internal exam in the first place. After talking through all the usual stuff (weight gain 1 pound, belly measures 35cm, baby heartbeat normal, blah blah blah) he decided that we’d better go ahead and do the Strep B test. I never had it last time so it was all new to me. Hell, I’ve never had my cervix checked when I wasn’t in labor so that was a new one, too!
New Doc explained how they measure the centimeters by the size of their finger tips. That actually made sense to me. When I used to work in the field we all knew the length of our stride so we could easily count off the correct number of paces for 10 meters. You just need that initial baseline and then go with it. But what freaked me out a little was when he said that he could actually feel the head through my cervix. Whoa. So does that mean she’s dropped? Not sure the actual definition of “dropping”. My hips are sore pretty much all the time so obviously my pelvis is spreading. I can feel a strange sort of pressure on my labia that must be from everything above starting to come downward. I didn’t pay much attention to these kinds of details last time because, well, I wasn’t expecting to have a baby a month ahead of schedule!
Upon New Doc’s request, I actually rescheduled my next appointment for earlier in the week. Since Sunday is my day for the week count to reset, having the 36 week one on Thursday would put me at 36 weeks and 4 days. Well, I had Kirk at 36 weeks and 5 days. So. Now it’s set for Monday instead. We’ll see if I actually make it or not. Ideally it would be good to make it over that 37 week line but I’m finding that less and less likely.
The Braxton Hicks have started to come more frequently. They used to be at night only and now show up whenever the hell they feel like it. There’s no pattern still but the intensity has certainly increased. It’s often a much sharper feeling, verging just on the edge of pain, instead of the general sort of squeezing tightness they’ve been causing previously. And sometimes they definitely last longer than just for a brief moment. On top of that, my first trimester constipation issues have returned with a vengeance. Only now that I know I’m already dilated, I’m sort of paranoid that pushing out a turd will be bad for the baby! Plus the poo cramps mix in with the BH and make my entire abdominal region just a festive mélange of uncomfortable annoyances. Oh and the back aches. Let’s not forget those. General pregnancy posture issues? Precursor to back labor? Who knows. But I totally have old man back and I grunt and sigh when standing. It’s kind of ridiculous.
Mr. b’s workmates have started a baby pool. I’ve been trying to make sure all my work items are squared away. What I really need to do is buy some frickin’ Dreft and wash the few non-spit-up stained, non-gender specific items I pulled out of Kirk’s old bin and the adorable prezzies sent by last year’s Best Original Screenplay Academy Award Winner so they’re ready to go. Everything else we’ll figure out as it’s needed.
New Doc explained how they measure the centimeters by the size of their finger tips. That actually made sense to me. When I used to work in the field we all knew the length of our stride so we could easily count off the correct number of paces for 10 meters. You just need that initial baseline and then go with it. But what freaked me out a little was when he said that he could actually feel the head through my cervix. Whoa. So does that mean she’s dropped? Not sure the actual definition of “dropping”. My hips are sore pretty much all the time so obviously my pelvis is spreading. I can feel a strange sort of pressure on my labia that must be from everything above starting to come downward. I didn’t pay much attention to these kinds of details last time because, well, I wasn’t expecting to have a baby a month ahead of schedule!
Upon New Doc’s request, I actually rescheduled my next appointment for earlier in the week. Since Sunday is my day for the week count to reset, having the 36 week one on Thursday would put me at 36 weeks and 4 days. Well, I had Kirk at 36 weeks and 5 days. So. Now it’s set for Monday instead. We’ll see if I actually make it or not. Ideally it would be good to make it over that 37 week line but I’m finding that less and less likely.
The Braxton Hicks have started to come more frequently. They used to be at night only and now show up whenever the hell they feel like it. There’s no pattern still but the intensity has certainly increased. It’s often a much sharper feeling, verging just on the edge of pain, instead of the general sort of squeezing tightness they’ve been causing previously. And sometimes they definitely last longer than just for a brief moment. On top of that, my first trimester constipation issues have returned with a vengeance. Only now that I know I’m already dilated, I’m sort of paranoid that pushing out a turd will be bad for the baby! Plus the poo cramps mix in with the BH and make my entire abdominal region just a festive mélange of uncomfortable annoyances. Oh and the back aches. Let’s not forget those. General pregnancy posture issues? Precursor to back labor? Who knows. But I totally have old man back and I grunt and sigh when standing. It’s kind of ridiculous.
Mr. b’s workmates have started a baby pool. I’ve been trying to make sure all my work items are squared away. What I really need to do is buy some frickin’ Dreft and wash the few non-spit-up stained, non-gender specific items I pulled out of Kirk’s old bin and the adorable prezzies sent by last year’s Best Original Screenplay Academy Award Winner so they’re ready to go. Everything else we’ll figure out as it’s needed.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Perception
We picked Kirk up from daycare last night and told him we were going to go straight to the glasses store. He sincerely, and with a great deal of concern, asked, "Do I have to put poop in the potty to get my glasses?" He was overjoyed to learn that no, he does not have to put poop in the potty to get his glasses. Heh.
They had a great selection of cool kid frames at the one-hour place at the mall. Referencing a photo of David Tennant's Tenth Doctor, Kirk's only requirement was that they were black.
The biggest challenge is going to be getting Kirk to look through the glasses. He wears them down on his nose and looks over the top. We've been reminding him non-stop to push them up. I've been trying to explain that he needs to look through them in order to help his eyes see things close by. I honestly don't think he's seeing that much of a revelatory difference in his vision so far. It's not like he's in school and needing help focusing on his homework or reading assignments! Mr. b pointed out that he does look at books that we read to him and watch DVDs on the little portable player and paint pictures and that's all close to his face but it's not the same as focusing on schoolwork. I did notice tonight that he was rubbing his weaker eye so I just have to cross my fingers and hope that it's already being forced to work harder.
All this glasses talk has caused me to think through our immediate family members and catalogue who wears and glasses and when they got them. My brother was in elementary school, possibly fifth grade or so. I don't remember when my sister got hers but I think it was about the same time. They both have relatively weak prescriptions though. My mom's out of town so I haven't asked her but my vague memory is that she also was closer to junior high when she got her first specs. My dad didn't need anything until recently and that's just your standard age-related reading glasses. Mr. b's brother, like him, doesn't need corrective lenses. His aunt, however, started wearing them sometime in K-2 and has needed them ever since. She even apologized for her part in passing along bad genes! The smoking gun, so to speak, would seem to be her brother, my father-in-law. Mr. b's dad had a lazy eye when he was little and needed serious coke bottles. That's exactly what would happen to Kirk's slight cross eye if it went untreated! My FIL apparently stopped wearing them in high school at some point - he certainly didn't wear them in Nam - but started again in his late 30s and is now almost completely blind in one eye. I do wonder if it's the same eye that was lazy as a kid and if that lengthy hiatus from glasses had anything to do with it.
I think the hardest part for both Mr. b and I is the realization that Kirk is never going to look the same. When he first tried on his frames at the store we sort of had a collective heartbreaking moment, knowing that this is our son now. He's a glasses kid. It's momentous and a milestone and amazing. His sister will literally never know him looking any other way. He will always have had glasses in her memory. Sure, he won't wear them constantly and someday he'll likely demand contacts or laser surgery or whatever but by then we'll instead be used to him with glasses on his face. It's just going to take some adjustment time. It's a cognitive leap or something.
They had a great selection of cool kid frames at the one-hour place at the mall. Referencing a photo of David Tennant's Tenth Doctor, Kirk's only requirement was that they were black.
The biggest challenge is going to be getting Kirk to look through the glasses. He wears them down on his nose and looks over the top. We've been reminding him non-stop to push them up. I've been trying to explain that he needs to look through them in order to help his eyes see things close by. I honestly don't think he's seeing that much of a revelatory difference in his vision so far. It's not like he's in school and needing help focusing on his homework or reading assignments! Mr. b pointed out that he does look at books that we read to him and watch DVDs on the little portable player and paint pictures and that's all close to his face but it's not the same as focusing on schoolwork. I did notice tonight that he was rubbing his weaker eye so I just have to cross my fingers and hope that it's already being forced to work harder.
All this glasses talk has caused me to think through our immediate family members and catalogue who wears and glasses and when they got them. My brother was in elementary school, possibly fifth grade or so. I don't remember when my sister got hers but I think it was about the same time. They both have relatively weak prescriptions though. My mom's out of town so I haven't asked her but my vague memory is that she also was closer to junior high when she got her first specs. My dad didn't need anything until recently and that's just your standard age-related reading glasses. Mr. b's brother, like him, doesn't need corrective lenses. His aunt, however, started wearing them sometime in K-2 and has needed them ever since. She even apologized for her part in passing along bad genes! The smoking gun, so to speak, would seem to be her brother, my father-in-law. Mr. b's dad had a lazy eye when he was little and needed serious coke bottles. That's exactly what would happen to Kirk's slight cross eye if it went untreated! My FIL apparently stopped wearing them in high school at some point - he certainly didn't wear them in Nam - but started again in his late 30s and is now almost completely blind in one eye. I do wonder if it's the same eye that was lazy as a kid and if that lengthy hiatus from glasses had anything to do with it.
I think the hardest part for both Mr. b and I is the realization that Kirk is never going to look the same. When he first tried on his frames at the store we sort of had a collective heartbreaking moment, knowing that this is our son now. He's a glasses kid. It's momentous and a milestone and amazing. His sister will literally never know him looking any other way. He will always have had glasses in her memory. Sure, he won't wear them constantly and someday he'll likely demand contacts or laser surgery or whatever but by then we'll instead be used to him with glasses on his face. It's just going to take some adjustment time. It's a cognitive leap or something.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Hindsight?
So. Kirk needs glasses.
This morning I took Kirk in to the eye doctor. Doc had suggested that we go have him checked out, oh, about a year ago and it finally happened. He was such a good boy. He was really kind of freaked out about it but brought with his little felt kitty puppet he made at daycare a while back because it was loosing its eye and needed to see the eye doctor, too. The nurse ran him through a bunch of tests. Instead of a regular chart he got to identify pictures of things like a hand, a bird, a tractor, and a cake. He was having fun and she was absolutely awesome with him. Then came the “magic raindrops”. He did not like those. I didn’t realize they were going to dilate his pupils so the entire appointment took about three times longer than I was mentally prepared for.
After playing in the lobby for a half hour we went back in. Kirk was complaining about how his eyes were “weird” and I assured him they would go back to normal. I’ve only had my eyes dilated once but yeah, it was weird all right. It’s sort of funny to see a kid with giant acid-trip pupils! The nurse checked out his eyes with a series of lenses and then eventually the doctor himself came in. Kirk was fabulous. He was so calm and well behaved while the doctor used all his lights and lenses and various other doodads and “doctor tools”. I was unbelievably proud of my son.
And then I got the verdict: he’s farsighted. He’s got a common little kid thing called strabismus that usually develops around age 2 or 3 and doesn’t necessarily have to be genetic. In fact, one of the factors is low birth weight. Well, he certainly had that. The doctor didn’t think that the plagiocephaly, or flattened skull, had anything to do with its development. The problem is, if the glasses don’t help to strengthen his weaker right eye, then he’ll have to have an eye patch. Great. But at least now we know. It explains why the one eye sometimes seemed to be turned inward, but not always.
Tonight we’re going to get Kirk’s glasses prescription filled. This is all brand new territory for both Mr. b and I. Neither of us have ever had anything other than perfect vision. But we’ll become experts fast enough since it sounds more likely that Kirk will need lenses for life, rather than eventually grow out of it. It could happen but it would be years from now. So we’re going to make sure he knows how special he is. Good thing he’s already a big Doctor Who fan – he’s going to get his very own brainy specs! I’m sure we’ll see kids in cartoons wearing glasses everywhere once he’s got them but at the moment only Clark Kent is coming to mind. Mr. b asked Kirk’s godfather to come by wearing his own glasses and taunt us for not being cool enough to get to wear them. I also suggested we let Kirk pick out someplace for us to go to dinner tonight to celebrate picking out his new frames. I’m assuming that’ll mean either the Taco Rice Restaurant or the Spaghetti Restaurant. (Which is a win for Preggo Mommy as well!) And then we’ll have a new thing to fight about when we have to make sure that he actually does wear the suckers every day, all day. Because in two months we have to go back and have a muscle check. Hopefully we won’t also need to pick out pirate role models to convince him that patches are the coolest.
This morning I took Kirk in to the eye doctor. Doc had suggested that we go have him checked out, oh, about a year ago and it finally happened. He was such a good boy. He was really kind of freaked out about it but brought with his little felt kitty puppet he made at daycare a while back because it was loosing its eye and needed to see the eye doctor, too. The nurse ran him through a bunch of tests. Instead of a regular chart he got to identify pictures of things like a hand, a bird, a tractor, and a cake. He was having fun and she was absolutely awesome with him. Then came the “magic raindrops”. He did not like those. I didn’t realize they were going to dilate his pupils so the entire appointment took about three times longer than I was mentally prepared for.
After playing in the lobby for a half hour we went back in. Kirk was complaining about how his eyes were “weird” and I assured him they would go back to normal. I’ve only had my eyes dilated once but yeah, it was weird all right. It’s sort of funny to see a kid with giant acid-trip pupils! The nurse checked out his eyes with a series of lenses and then eventually the doctor himself came in. Kirk was fabulous. He was so calm and well behaved while the doctor used all his lights and lenses and various other doodads and “doctor tools”. I was unbelievably proud of my son.
And then I got the verdict: he’s farsighted. He’s got a common little kid thing called strabismus that usually develops around age 2 or 3 and doesn’t necessarily have to be genetic. In fact, one of the factors is low birth weight. Well, he certainly had that. The doctor didn’t think that the plagiocephaly, or flattened skull, had anything to do with its development. The problem is, if the glasses don’t help to strengthen his weaker right eye, then he’ll have to have an eye patch. Great. But at least now we know. It explains why the one eye sometimes seemed to be turned inward, but not always.
Tonight we’re going to get Kirk’s glasses prescription filled. This is all brand new territory for both Mr. b and I. Neither of us have ever had anything other than perfect vision. But we’ll become experts fast enough since it sounds more likely that Kirk will need lenses for life, rather than eventually grow out of it. It could happen but it would be years from now. So we’re going to make sure he knows how special he is. Good thing he’s already a big Doctor Who fan – he’s going to get his very own brainy specs! I’m sure we’ll see kids in cartoons wearing glasses everywhere once he’s got them but at the moment only Clark Kent is coming to mind. Mr. b asked Kirk’s godfather to come by wearing his own glasses and taunt us for not being cool enough to get to wear them. I also suggested we let Kirk pick out someplace for us to go to dinner tonight to celebrate picking out his new frames. I’m assuming that’ll mean either the Taco Rice Restaurant or the Spaghetti Restaurant. (Which is a win for Preggo Mommy as well!) And then we’ll have a new thing to fight about when we have to make sure that he actually does wear the suckers every day, all day. Because in two months we have to go back and have a muscle check. Hopefully we won’t also need to pick out pirate role models to convince him that patches are the coolest.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Generations
Last week my grandma had a heart attack. When we first learned about it, things sounded dire. Like, time to make your travel arrangements and get bereavement leave set up at work. Partly that was because of the unknown. It wasn’t sure at that point if it had been a stroke instead. All we knew is that she had been found collapsed in the bathroom and had a severely bruised face because of her fall.
This Saturday my sister and I made the 3 and a half hour drive to go visit her. Grandma was out of the ICU by then. She’s in a transitional facility for another week or two while they evaluate her “life skills” and determine what level of care she’ll need. Despite the fact that she was in a great mood and totally has her sense of humor intact, her short term memory loss is undeniable. She will likely not be able to return to the senior apartment where she has lived independently since selling her house a few years ago.
All of this influx of emotions really made me think about how to explain mortality to Kirk. I can remember attending Grandma’s sister’s funeral when I was a little kid. This woman pretty much raised Grandma, who was the youngest of 11 and who lost her mother at the age of 3. I knew this great aunt was important to her and to my mom but I didn’t really have any memories of my own about her. So the funeral was just a fun event in a small town, at a little country church, with lots of random kids running around in the graveyard, not really paying attention to the grieving adults telling stories. Similarly, when Mr. b lost his one remaining grandmother a few years back, our niece, who was about 3 at the time, was having a blast, singing and dancing and being the center of attention.
It’s hard to answer questions like “Why did she get hurt on the inside?” without being a smart ass. But honestly, for a 90 year old woman, what other answer is there besides, “Sometimes that happens when you get old”? I don’t want to scare the boy but it’s the truth. Apparently Kirk told his daddy the other day that while he wants to grow up and get bigger, he doesn’t want to get old. He wants to be a daddy but he doesn’t want to be a grandpa. And maybe it’s just too far off in the future to imagine but maybe it’s because of recent events and topics of conversation.
Regardless, I’m glad that it looks like Kirk will not be attending his first funeral in the upcoming months. Sure, it’s unlikely that Grandma has another decade. But it’s also unlikely that this is the last time I’ll have gotten to see her. She’ll be able to meet her newest great-grandchild even if she won’t be around long enough for the little girl to have even a vague memory of her. Maybe she’ll even be able to receive a flood of visitors during next summer’s family reunion. And I’ll have a little more time to come up with an explanation for Kirk about why we die.
This Saturday my sister and I made the 3 and a half hour drive to go visit her. Grandma was out of the ICU by then. She’s in a transitional facility for another week or two while they evaluate her “life skills” and determine what level of care she’ll need. Despite the fact that she was in a great mood and totally has her sense of humor intact, her short term memory loss is undeniable. She will likely not be able to return to the senior apartment where she has lived independently since selling her house a few years ago.
All of this influx of emotions really made me think about how to explain mortality to Kirk. I can remember attending Grandma’s sister’s funeral when I was a little kid. This woman pretty much raised Grandma, who was the youngest of 11 and who lost her mother at the age of 3. I knew this great aunt was important to her and to my mom but I didn’t really have any memories of my own about her. So the funeral was just a fun event in a small town, at a little country church, with lots of random kids running around in the graveyard, not really paying attention to the grieving adults telling stories. Similarly, when Mr. b lost his one remaining grandmother a few years back, our niece, who was about 3 at the time, was having a blast, singing and dancing and being the center of attention.
It’s hard to answer questions like “Why did she get hurt on the inside?” without being a smart ass. But honestly, for a 90 year old woman, what other answer is there besides, “Sometimes that happens when you get old”? I don’t want to scare the boy but it’s the truth. Apparently Kirk told his daddy the other day that while he wants to grow up and get bigger, he doesn’t want to get old. He wants to be a daddy but he doesn’t want to be a grandpa. And maybe it’s just too far off in the future to imagine but maybe it’s because of recent events and topics of conversation.
Regardless, I’m glad that it looks like Kirk will not be attending his first funeral in the upcoming months. Sure, it’s unlikely that Grandma has another decade. But it’s also unlikely that this is the last time I’ll have gotten to see her. She’ll be able to meet her newest great-grandchild even if she won’t be around long enough for the little girl to have even a vague memory of her. Maybe she’ll even be able to receive a flood of visitors during next summer’s family reunion. And I’ll have a little more time to come up with an explanation for Kirk about why we die.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Preoccupied Planning
Nothing much to report after my ob appointment on Thursday morning. I gained another 2 pounds, which brings my cumulative total so far up to 10. The ultimate total will of course depend upon how early this girl arrives. I remain about 2 cm bigger than my gestational weeks. Because Kirk was so early and I told New Doc I’m expecting something similar to happen this time around, he decided to move my Strep B test up. Now I’ll be having it at my next appointment, instead of waiting for the one at 36 weeks which is a bit more typical. We also briefly discussed pain management options. I still don’t like the idea of an epidural and since I was fine with just Nubain added to my IV last time I figure we’ll simply wait and see how it goes. Birth plans are a load of hooey anyways; it’s not like the kid cares what you’re planning!
Basically all my time is now being spent freaking out about daycare and preschool. I have no idea what I’m going to do with either kid. All the places I’ve talked to so far that have both programs are way too expensive. Hell, even just preschool for Kirk is turning out to be close to twice what I’m currently paying for daycare for him. I wish we didn’t have to do dual drop-off but that’s looking increasingly unlikely. Kirk is really just plain ready for preschool but since his best friend is K’s son it’s not like he’d be upset to stay there or anything. Frankly it looks like we’re getting to the point where it *almost* makes better sense for one of us to stay home. Almost. Because even with the savings in child care we’d still need that extra couple hundred. Right now Mr. b is actually able to earn overtime, which is unheard of in the current state of the economy, so we can’t ignore that opportunity. And all our benefits are through me so I can’t be the one home either. Still researching options but my sense of optimism is dwindling fast.
Make eye appointment for Kirk
Make interview appointment for preschool for Kirk
Research daycare options if same location won’t also take infants
Talk to HR about maternity leave bureaucracy
Fill out and mail pre-admission form for hospital
Make 32, 34, and 36 week ob appointments
Make Kindergarten pre-screening appointment for Kirk
Register for baby stuff
Write letter to Grandma
Figure out SSN/Name issue with IRS
Research life insurance options
Defer student loans
Basically all my time is now being spent freaking out about daycare and preschool. I have no idea what I’m going to do with either kid. All the places I’ve talked to so far that have both programs are way too expensive. Hell, even just preschool for Kirk is turning out to be close to twice what I’m currently paying for daycare for him. I wish we didn’t have to do dual drop-off but that’s looking increasingly unlikely. Kirk is really just plain ready for preschool but since his best friend is K’s son it’s not like he’d be upset to stay there or anything. Frankly it looks like we’re getting to the point where it *almost* makes better sense for one of us to stay home. Almost. Because even with the savings in child care we’d still need that extra couple hundred. Right now Mr. b is actually able to earn overtime, which is unheard of in the current state of the economy, so we can’t ignore that opportunity. And all our benefits are through me so I can’t be the one home either. Still researching options but my sense of optimism is dwindling fast.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
By Popular Demand
We set up our baby registry at Target this weekend. It was kind of nice to take inventory of what we have, what we can get back, and what we really shouldn’t reuse. So I think this covers all the remaining need-to-haves and nice-to-haves. Mr. b has been great about bringing stuff in from the garage so we can get used to having it in the house again. We’ve got the changing table set up and it makes a nice set of shelves for Kirk’s toys that end up in the living room over night. The diaper Genie has been declared a Dalek and Kirk’s been playing with it more than he really ought to play with something that used to house his own crap. But that’s OK.
The only other stuff we’d love for kind and generous souls to get for the girl would be the awesome, funny, and expensive onesies and hipster baby clothes you find at places like Little Dudes Only, Pacifier, and myriad places elsewhere online. We’ll be focused on the affordable and boring 6-pack of plain white Gerbers so anyone that wants to bring some funk into her wardrobe will be much appreciated! HA!
The only other stuff we’d love for kind and generous souls to get for the girl would be the awesome, funny, and expensive onesies and hipster baby clothes you find at places like Little Dudes Only, Pacifier, and myriad places elsewhere online. We’ll be focused on the affordable and boring 6-pack of plain white Gerbers so anyone that wants to bring some funk into her wardrobe will be much appreciated! HA!
Monday, February 02, 2009
So Emotional, Baby
Kirk has been highly emotional of late. He’s going through some definite fine-tuning development or something. It’s both fascinating to watch and extremely frustrating. He’s having a lot of difficulty with his father leaving. Mr. b is in school and has class 3 nights a week plus band obligations so obviously leaving is a common occurrence. Kirk really freaks out and literally refuses to let him go. However, if his daddy is already gone then it’s no big deal to not have him there. So if Mr. b is already at work by the time we get up in the morning then it’s just funny, “My daddy took the bus when it was still nigh-nighs? That’s so weird! My daddy is a weirdo.”
He’s becoming desperately possessive of his current precious toys. This morning we wouldn’t let him bring his sonic screwdriver (Star Wars and Indy 4 light-up cereal spoons) to daycare. He’s already lost 3 of the 4 we had and we just wanted to keep this last one safe. But he freaked out and threw a major fit, hitting his dad repeatedly and screaming the whole way. Of course then he was remorseful and didn’t want us to leave for work once we got there.
Kirk is also becoming chickenshit. He psyches himself out of situations that he’s never had a problem with before. The last time we were at the fancy indoor playground he got himself stuck at the top like a cat in a tree. He had to have some kind pre-teen help him down. We went to Burger King last week and Kirk refused to climb in the playland area at all, even with his dad going in there with him. Yet when we put our collective foot down this weekend and wouldn’t let him get away with not even trying what we were having for lunch, he ended up eating tons of what he was sticking his nose up at. So it’s physical fears more than other kinds? I’m not sure. He’s beginning to see things in the dark, which I know is a common developmental milestone for this age. Same with occasional nightmares and bad dreams.
And yet while all this is going on Kirk’s become incredibly sweet regarding his imminent baby sister. He’s extremely possessive of her, constantly asking, “That’s my baby, right Mama?” He will pet my stomach, kiss it, talk to it, “tickle” it. He worries that a random freckle is an owie on his sister. He plans out all the things he’s going to teach her. He was really upset when he learned that he’d have to stay with Auntie when I go to the hospital and only calmed down when I reassured him he’d then get to come, too, to meet her after she’s born. “Having a baby out of your tummy is a lot of hard work Mama.” I don’t know where he got that from but he’s not wrong!
He’s becoming desperately possessive of his current precious toys. This morning we wouldn’t let him bring his sonic screwdriver (Star Wars and Indy 4 light-up cereal spoons) to daycare. He’s already lost 3 of the 4 we had and we just wanted to keep this last one safe. But he freaked out and threw a major fit, hitting his dad repeatedly and screaming the whole way. Of course then he was remorseful and didn’t want us to leave for work once we got there.
Kirk is also becoming chickenshit. He psyches himself out of situations that he’s never had a problem with before. The last time we were at the fancy indoor playground he got himself stuck at the top like a cat in a tree. He had to have some kind pre-teen help him down. We went to Burger King last week and Kirk refused to climb in the playland area at all, even with his dad going in there with him. Yet when we put our collective foot down this weekend and wouldn’t let him get away with not even trying what we were having for lunch, he ended up eating tons of what he was sticking his nose up at. So it’s physical fears more than other kinds? I’m not sure. He’s beginning to see things in the dark, which I know is a common developmental milestone for this age. Same with occasional nightmares and bad dreams.
And yet while all this is going on Kirk’s become incredibly sweet regarding his imminent baby sister. He’s extremely possessive of her, constantly asking, “That’s my baby, right Mama?” He will pet my stomach, kiss it, talk to it, “tickle” it. He worries that a random freckle is an owie on his sister. He plans out all the things he’s going to teach her. He was really upset when he learned that he’d have to stay with Auntie when I go to the hospital and only calmed down when I reassured him he’d then get to come, too, to meet her after she’s born. “Having a baby out of your tummy is a lot of hard work Mama.” I don’t know where he got that from but he’s not wrong!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Ojibwe, Demon Hunters, and Socialites
This month's book club book was The Birchbark House by Louise Erdrich. I loved it to bits. I was honestly shocked to find that most of the ladies at book club didn't feel the same. It's Young Adult and the protagonist is a young Objiwe girl. It follows a year in the life of her family, Lake Superior band Ojibwe, in 1847. I was thoroughly engrossed by the descriptions of life during that time frame, even the harsh reality of a smallpox epidemic, especially with the knowledge of what was to come. Minnesota would achieve statehood in just a few short years. That band would move west. But even more than that, I loved the familiarity. I've discussed already the familiarity of a book set in Minneapolis and a book written by someone I know. This was yet another kind: the familiarity of language. The terms used for family members, household items, everyday objects, so many words and phrases have made their way into our common language as Minnesotans. I had no idea that Nokomis meant grandmother. To me it's always just been one of the lakes on the south side of town. And because of my background in archaeology, I had familiarity with the material culture. Going to school in Minnesota meant knowing Ojibwe kids from elementary school on up but once I started college at the U of M then I actually took Indian Studies. I actually went through the collections in the basement of the Anthropology building to follow NAGPRA mandates. And so perhaps all of these elements are what made me enjoy the book so much when the ladies found it too academic and wished the focus had been on the adults instead of the girl.
I read California Demon by Julie Kenner after the recommendation of a friend. It's billed as a sort of what if: What if Buffy grew up and retired from slaying and had a family and then got pulled back into the fight? The protagonist, Kate, hunted demons as a child and didn't have a high school experience and wasn't the only hunter and married one of her co-fighters and worked for a secret arm of the Vatican but honestly, that What If shorthand is pretty spot on. And it was a really great take on both "chick lit" and the sort of gothic fantasy I seem to gravitate towards these days. There were a few plot twists that I saw coming from afar but it was a quick, fluffy read and thoroughly enjoyable. I especially appreciated all the mommy details and wonder if that would be as interesting to a non-mom? The only thing that perplexed me was the constant references to events that took place 3 or 4 months prior to the action of the book. I thought perhaps it was a way to get around the rote requirements of an origin story but I wasn't sure. Once I finished it I found out: yep, this was book 2. Oops! Frankly, I don't think I missed anything by skipping the first book, Carpe Demon. I mean, most everybody read The Da Vinci Code before reading Angels and Demons and it didn't affect our enjoyment or ability to follow what was going on! I don't think I'll go back and read the first one. I would much rather continue on and find out what happens with Kate and her family next.
Blue Bloods by Melissa de la Cruz was another recommendation by the same friend. She described it as "Gossip Girl" with vampires. Not watching that show I only have Entertainment Weekly's reviews to go by but it seems pretty accurate. You see, all the Old Money in New England is actually families of vampires that came over on the Mayflower. That makes total sense to me! HA! This was hands down the most original take on vampire mythology I've ever read. I don't want to go into detail because it's slowly explained throughout the course of the book and it was fun putting it all together. It's obviously Teen Fiction but I blasted through it in a single weekend because I was completely caught up in the action. It takes place in an elite prep school and the characters are learning about their true heritage while romancing and angsting and shopping and club hopping and making out and partying and oh yeah, being hunted by Something Bad. The only frustrating thing is that the ending was so abrupt! The mystery remained unsolved! I had oh so many theories about the potential bad guys and it just ended. Then again, if I had had the next book out from the library, I would have just kept on reading and not gotten any sleep last night at all.
I read California Demon by Julie Kenner after the recommendation of a friend. It's billed as a sort of what if: What if Buffy grew up and retired from slaying and had a family and then got pulled back into the fight? The protagonist, Kate, hunted demons as a child and didn't have a high school experience and wasn't the only hunter and married one of her co-fighters and worked for a secret arm of the Vatican but honestly, that What If shorthand is pretty spot on. And it was a really great take on both "chick lit" and the sort of gothic fantasy I seem to gravitate towards these days. There were a few plot twists that I saw coming from afar but it was a quick, fluffy read and thoroughly enjoyable. I especially appreciated all the mommy details and wonder if that would be as interesting to a non-mom? The only thing that perplexed me was the constant references to events that took place 3 or 4 months prior to the action of the book. I thought perhaps it was a way to get around the rote requirements of an origin story but I wasn't sure. Once I finished it I found out: yep, this was book 2. Oops! Frankly, I don't think I missed anything by skipping the first book, Carpe Demon. I mean, most everybody read The Da Vinci Code before reading Angels and Demons and it didn't affect our enjoyment or ability to follow what was going on! I don't think I'll go back and read the first one. I would much rather continue on and find out what happens with Kate and her family next.
Blue Bloods by Melissa de la Cruz was another recommendation by the same friend. She described it as "Gossip Girl" with vampires. Not watching that show I only have Entertainment Weekly's reviews to go by but it seems pretty accurate. You see, all the Old Money in New England is actually families of vampires that came over on the Mayflower. That makes total sense to me! HA! This was hands down the most original take on vampire mythology I've ever read. I don't want to go into detail because it's slowly explained throughout the course of the book and it was fun putting it all together. It's obviously Teen Fiction but I blasted through it in a single weekend because I was completely caught up in the action. It takes place in an elite prep school and the characters are learning about their true heritage while romancing and angsting and shopping and club hopping and making out and partying and oh yeah, being hunted by Something Bad. The only frustrating thing is that the ending was so abrupt! The mystery remained unsolved! I had oh so many theories about the potential bad guys and it just ended. Then again, if I had had the next book out from the library, I would have just kept on reading and not gotten any sleep last night at all.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Temporal Mechanics
Two nights in a row now I've had beginning-of-labor dreams. They're nothing particularly special, in the first my water broke and in both I knew that the, ahem, butt issues were yet another classic symptom. I was very conscious of the fact that this was It, though I wasn't actually experiencing contractions in the dreams. Of course after I woke up from the first one I was then kept awake by more Braxton Hicks. Figures.
This goes along with my increasing suspicion that I'm going to be going early again. I don't have anything to base this on other than crazy mama psychic vibes. New Doctor and I were joking at my make-up appointment Thursday morning (Tuesday afternoon got canceled due to him having to deliver a baby) that there's not exactly a lot of sample data yet. We'll know better after this one if that's a common thing for me or not. Heh.
My weight gain went back to my more usual 2 pounds per month so I was pleased to hear that. So far no return of the weird armpit bumps that have come and gone throughout this entire pregnancy. And the doctor figured that the weak spells I was experiencing were more likely blood sugar related, though he didn't rule out blood pressure as apparently that can drop due to the increased body area that needs to be supplied (ie my big belly) or possibly even simple dehydration when amniotic fluid is being produced.
However, he also then measured my belly. All through this pregnancy I've been right on the money for the magic centimeters to gestation comparison. I was at 30 weeks but 32 cm. I seem to remember something similar with Kirk, though I can't recall exactly when my belly moved ahead. Now, New Doc confirmed that the measurements can vary 2 cm either side of the week you're on but since I've always been exact, that stood out to me. We shall see. Like I said, I've got nothing solid to base this on other than a gut feeling. Lord knows I don't need to have a premie. But I'm also trying to step up the remaining preparations I wanted to deal with. I found the bin of Kirk's earliest, babiest clothes and I'm going to pull out whatever looks non-gender specific for starters.
Make eye appointment for Kirk
Make interview appointment for preschool for Kirk
Research daycare options if same location won’t also take infants
Talk to HR about maternity leave bureaucracy
Fill out and mail pre-admission form for hospital
Make 32, 34, and 36 week ob appointments
Make Kindergarten pre-screening appointment for Kirk
Register for baby crap (We're constantly being asked by out-of-state friends, relatives, and people that didn't know us when we had Kirk if there's anything we need)
This goes along with my increasing suspicion that I'm going to be going early again. I don't have anything to base this on other than crazy mama psychic vibes. New Doctor and I were joking at my make-up appointment Thursday morning (Tuesday afternoon got canceled due to him having to deliver a baby) that there's not exactly a lot of sample data yet. We'll know better after this one if that's a common thing for me or not. Heh.
My weight gain went back to my more usual 2 pounds per month so I was pleased to hear that. So far no return of the weird armpit bumps that have come and gone throughout this entire pregnancy. And the doctor figured that the weak spells I was experiencing were more likely blood sugar related, though he didn't rule out blood pressure as apparently that can drop due to the increased body area that needs to be supplied (ie my big belly) or possibly even simple dehydration when amniotic fluid is being produced.
However, he also then measured my belly. All through this pregnancy I've been right on the money for the magic centimeters to gestation comparison. I was at 30 weeks but 32 cm. I seem to remember something similar with Kirk, though I can't recall exactly when my belly moved ahead. Now, New Doc confirmed that the measurements can vary 2 cm either side of the week you're on but since I've always been exact, that stood out to me. We shall see. Like I said, I've got nothing solid to base this on other than a gut feeling. Lord knows I don't need to have a premie. But I'm also trying to step up the remaining preparations I wanted to deal with. I found the bin of Kirk's earliest, babiest clothes and I'm going to pull out whatever looks non-gender specific for starters.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Belly of the Beast
So this morning I couldn’t get out of the car. I literally couldn’t fit. Now, the spaces in that section of the ramp are incredibly tight and the car on the right was over the line but still. I couldn’t manage to squeeze out. Mr. b had to climb back in to the car, back it up, let me get out, and then re-park. Theoretically there’s enough room for me to get in when I leave for my doctor’s appointment this afternoon. But still. That was a helluva thing.
I’ve definitely moved past the point where fetal movements are charming and only occasionally annoying. They now are nearly always uncomfortable, if not downright hurty. But one good thing is that the girl hasn’t had the hiccups. I remember that was a pretty frequent occurrence for Kirk. However, after taking some time off, the Braxton Hicks returned in the wee hours this morning, keeping me awake.
We’ve also gotten to the point where sex is becoming extremely complicated. I just can’t figure out what tricks we learned last time. Or else maybe they don’t work this time? Of course then we didn’t have to also contend with shouts of “I’ve gotta go poop!” from down the hall to thoroughly break the mood.
I’ve noticed that when I change my weight between sitting and standing or get up from laying down that I suddenly feel like I have to pee. So there’s definite pressure happening on the ol’ bladder. And my stomach continues to be squeezed into a tinier space, making me fuller quicker but then ready to snack soon afterwards. That’s got to be why I put on 6 pounds last time.
I’m sort of shocked to realize that there’s really only about 2 months left. That’s gonna go faster than we notice. I’ll be switching to every-two-weeks for appointments after today. Hopefully my weight gain is in check. I’ve only been to the gym once in the past 3 weeks. I still have so many Responsible Adult things to get done before the baby comes. And if she decides to be nearly a month early like her brother, well, then I’m fraked.
Make eye appointment for Kirk (My dad always starts a list with something that’s already done.)
Make interview appointment for preschool for Kirk
Research daycare options if same location won’t also take infants
Talk to HR about maternity leave bureaucracy
Fill out and mail pre-admission form for hospital
I’ve definitely moved past the point where fetal movements are charming and only occasionally annoying. They now are nearly always uncomfortable, if not downright hurty. But one good thing is that the girl hasn’t had the hiccups. I remember that was a pretty frequent occurrence for Kirk. However, after taking some time off, the Braxton Hicks returned in the wee hours this morning, keeping me awake.
We’ve also gotten to the point where sex is becoming extremely complicated. I just can’t figure out what tricks we learned last time. Or else maybe they don’t work this time? Of course then we didn’t have to also contend with shouts of “I’ve gotta go poop!” from down the hall to thoroughly break the mood.
I’ve noticed that when I change my weight between sitting and standing or get up from laying down that I suddenly feel like I have to pee. So there’s definite pressure happening on the ol’ bladder. And my stomach continues to be squeezed into a tinier space, making me fuller quicker but then ready to snack soon afterwards. That’s got to be why I put on 6 pounds last time.
I’m sort of shocked to realize that there’s really only about 2 months left. That’s gonna go faster than we notice. I’ll be switching to every-two-weeks for appointments after today. Hopefully my weight gain is in check. I’ve only been to the gym once in the past 3 weeks. I still have so many Responsible Adult things to get done before the baby comes. And if she decides to be nearly a month early like her brother, well, then I’m fraked.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Tales of Beedle the Sushi Chef
I’m a big reader of comic books (obviously). I’ve seen a fair amount of anime. But for some reason I never really have delved into the world of manga. It’s not because they’re “backwards”; I think that’s kind of fun. I honestly don’t know why. But then I found out that a friend of mine was working on the English adaptation of one and I decided I needed to read it. Mixed Vegetables was fantastic! I really liked it. OK, frankly it took me a little while to really get into it. Damn I forgot how hyper it can be! But then I found myself thoroughly caught up in the story of Hana’s quest to be a female sushi chef via dating the extremely dreamy (seriously, he’s drawn sooooo dreamy) Hayato and I was hooked. My library only has the first volume but I need to read more. I’ll have to put in a purchase request or do an inter-library loan.
I got The Tales of Beedle the Bard for Christmas and read it extremely slowly. It was as though I was purposely trying to make the Potterverse last, knowing this was it. I’m a fan of folk tales anyway, especially those from cultures I didn’t grow up within, so I was predisposed to love these. But I think I liked Dumbledore’s commentary even more than the stories themselves! It gave just the briefest glimpses into Wizarding politics, particularly around Hogwarts, with a sprinkling of history. The best part was when he would discuss the attempts to sanitize the often descriptive tales, to make them more palatable for children. Hilarious! And all too prevalent in the Muggle world as well. We’ve got a lame toddler version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears which Mr. b just loathes. We both change it when reading it to Kirk so that it’s apparent that Goldilocks is a) breaking and entering and b) gets eaten in the end for being naughty.
I got The Tales of Beedle the Bard for Christmas and read it extremely slowly. It was as though I was purposely trying to make the Potterverse last, knowing this was it. I’m a fan of folk tales anyway, especially those from cultures I didn’t grow up within, so I was predisposed to love these. But I think I liked Dumbledore’s commentary even more than the stories themselves! It gave just the briefest glimpses into Wizarding politics, particularly around Hogwarts, with a sprinkling of history. The best part was when he would discuss the attempts to sanitize the often descriptive tales, to make them more palatable for children. Hilarious! And all too prevalent in the Muggle world as well. We’ve got a lame toddler version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears which Mr. b just loathes. We both change it when reading it to Kirk so that it’s apparent that Goldilocks is a) breaking and entering and b) gets eaten in the end for being naughty.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Independence
Kirk is starting to make his own plans. It’s different from making his own decisions and certainly different from making his own choices when presented with The Thing We Want Him To Do and Something Else That Clearly Sucks to choose between. I had told him about Sunday dinner at Nana and Papa’s house back on Friday night or so. He knew it was coming up and was looking forward to it. When he woke up from his Quiet Time on Saturday afternoon, he was ready to go. NOW. Waiting for Sunday morning was not an option. Knowing that my sister was going to head up at some point that night with her girls, I asked him if he wanted me to call Auntie and see if he could go with her. It was all his own idea from there. He spoke to Auntie on the phone and I helped him pack his backpack and pull out his sleeping bag and his daddy helped him pick out toys and then he was chompin’ at the bit. Every five minutes he wanted to know where Auntie was. “When you finish your breakfast [supper] then Auntie will be here?” He was completely unfazed by leaving us for the night.
And of course since we suddenly had a childfree night we didn’t know what to do with ourselves. It’s not like it was planned out and we were heading to a gig or a movie or hell even dinner.
The strangest part of Kirk’s event planning is how quickly he makes up his mind, especially when he changes it. Sunday dinner was delicious, Kirk spent huge amounts of time out playing in the snow with his cousins, everybody got plenty of time to visit. My sister assumed that Kirk would end up spending last night up there, too, since his cousins were going to spend another night there. We arranged everything so that she would drop him off at daycare today and thought that settled it. Mr. b and I hung out later than we normally would, figuring that we’d go home when the kids went to bed. And that’s when it all changed. Kirk announced that he wanted to sleep at home, in his own bed, and started packing up his stuff. We had to go into overdrive – it was already past bedtime at that point! But it was all worth the rush because when Mr. b put a sleeping Kirkie into his bed, Kirk snuggled into his pillow as we tucked his blankets around him and got the happiest little smile on his face. Ah, that’s the stuff.
And of course since we suddenly had a childfree night we didn’t know what to do with ourselves. It’s not like it was planned out and we were heading to a gig or a movie or hell even dinner.
The strangest part of Kirk’s event planning is how quickly he makes up his mind, especially when he changes it. Sunday dinner was delicious, Kirk spent huge amounts of time out playing in the snow with his cousins, everybody got plenty of time to visit. My sister assumed that Kirk would end up spending last night up there, too, since his cousins were going to spend another night there. We arranged everything so that she would drop him off at daycare today and thought that settled it. Mr. b and I hung out later than we normally would, figuring that we’d go home when the kids went to bed. And that’s when it all changed. Kirk announced that he wanted to sleep at home, in his own bed, and started packing up his stuff. We had to go into overdrive – it was already past bedtime at that point! But it was all worth the rush because when Mr. b put a sleeping Kirkie into his bed, Kirk snuggled into his pillow as we tucked his blankets around him and got the happiest little smile on his face. Ah, that’s the stuff.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Jumble
It’s time for another catch-all post. I keep a mental list of topics I want to write about but then the day gets away from me and I don’t have time to write at home and suddenly it seems out of date and a full dissertation no longer makes sense to me.
Mr. b has Kirk convinced that his sister is going to be named “Strawberry”. You know, Strawberry Hill. Like the Boone’s Farm flavor.
As I was trying to fall asleep the other night it suddenly felt strangely cool at the front of my shirt. I looked down and my boob was leaking! Isn’t it still a bit early for milk action?
I think Kirk is officially done with naps. He’s definitely been transitioning out of them for a while but now it’s just not even worth fighting to get him to lay down. He has quiet time at daycare and we’re trying to continue that at home on the weekends (when I, however, still take naps). I guess I knew this was coming but it definitely seems early to me. I can remember having nap time at preschool. But I can also remember not actually *sleeping* during nap time in preschool… Now we just need to figure out how to adjust his bedtime to account for the lack of naps.
I think I’m starting to have light Braxton Hicks. I guess this would be the right timing since I’m into the third trimester. I can’t remember when they began last time. I don’t really notice except for when I’m laying down at night. Then the front of my stomach will seem really tense for a little while before relaxing. They don’t hurt at all, which is why it could also just be baby pressure on one side and pillow pressure on the other.
Mr. b has Kirk convinced that his sister is going to be named “Strawberry”. You know, Strawberry Hill. Like the Boone’s Farm flavor.
As I was trying to fall asleep the other night it suddenly felt strangely cool at the front of my shirt. I looked down and my boob was leaking! Isn’t it still a bit early for milk action?
I think Kirk is officially done with naps. He’s definitely been transitioning out of them for a while but now it’s just not even worth fighting to get him to lay down. He has quiet time at daycare and we’re trying to continue that at home on the weekends (when I, however, still take naps). I guess I knew this was coming but it definitely seems early to me. I can remember having nap time at preschool. But I can also remember not actually *sleeping* during nap time in preschool… Now we just need to figure out how to adjust his bedtime to account for the lack of naps.
I think I’m starting to have light Braxton Hicks. I guess this would be the right timing since I’m into the third trimester. I can’t remember when they began last time. I don’t really notice except for when I’m laying down at night. Then the front of my stomach will seem really tense for a little while before relaxing. They don’t hurt at all, which is why it could also just be baby pressure on one side and pillow pressure on the other.
Friday, January 02, 2009
2008 Reading List
Well. I’m not sure how this happened. Did I really pull off 59 titles this year? I never would have believed I could have topped last year’s list. I suppose the fact that I read so many graphic novels helped; trade paperback collections of individual issues really is a godsend for the ol’ wallet. And I also really didn’t read anything “hard” or “thinky” unless it was assigned for book club. This was the year my brain took off. Most definitely. Blasting through nearly all of Christopher Moore’s works, blasting through the entire Twilight saga, blasting through the main part of the Anne of Green Gable series, clearly I was only choosing titles that could be completed in a week or less.
Excluding anything mentioned above, I think the best books I read were Water for Elephants, Sunshine, and The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place. They are very different from each other and yet all three were fully realized worlds. I found them all completely believable stories (yes, even the one with vampires) with compelling protagonists and a sense that I could have kept going once I finally got to the end. I have already recommended each of these three to various folks and I stand by that; they are wonderful tales, well-written and evocative and thoroughly enjoyable. On the other end of the spectrum, however, there’s The Inheritance of Loss, which I didn’t *hate* but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable. Breaking Dawn nearly ruined my enjoyment of the rest of the series by opening my eyes to the flaws that had been there all along, yet I had been miraculously able to ignore since I was so caught up in it. Everything else I’d have to say I had a more positive reaction than negative, or at least I could find something to like in it.
I did a completely crap job at keeping up with book reviews. I should do better. At least until the girl is born and then my reading will dwindle. So until then, I’m going to try to stick to easy reading and squeeze in as much as I can! Yay!
BOOKS READ IN 2008
1. Star Wars Tales, Vol. 2 Edited by Dave Land
2. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Volume I Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill
3. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Volume II Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill
4. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: Black Dossier Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill
5. For the Time Being Annie Dillard
6. Island of the Sequined Love Nun Christopher Moore
7. Wide Sargasso Sea Jean Rhys
8. Monstrous Regiment Terry Pratchett
9. The Vampire Armand Anne Rice
10. I Am Legend Richard Matheson
11. B.P.R.D.: Garden of Souls Mike Mignola
12. Breath, Eyes, Memory Edwidge Danticat
13. Bone: Out From Boneville Jeff Smith
14. Night Watch Terry Pratchett
15. Bone: The Great Cow Race Jeff Smith
16. Early Candlelight Maude Hart Lovelace
17. The Cat Who Walks Through Walls Robert A. Heinlein
18. Bone: The Eyes of the Storm Jeff Smith
19. The Light Fantastic Terry Pratchett
20. Bloodsucking Fiends Christopher Moore
21. Blue Shoe Anne Lamott
22. Bone: The Dragonslayer Jeff Smith
23. Twilight Stephenie Meyer
24. Bone: Rock Jaw Master of the Eastern Border Jeff Smith
25. Soul Music Terry Pratchett
26. Sunshine Robin McKinley
27. Bone: Old Man’s Cave Jeff Smith
28. Bone: Ghost Circles Jeff Smith
29. Bone: Treasure Hunters Jeff Smith
30. Bone: Crown of Horns Jeff Smith
31. New Moon Stephenie Meyer
32. Eclipse Stephenie Meyer
33. The Woman in White Wilkie Collins
34. Guilty Pleasures Laurell K. Hamilton
35. Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter: Guilty Pleasures Volume 1 Laurell K. Hamilton
36. Anne of Green Gables L.M. Montgomery
37. Breaking Dawn Stephenie Meyer
38. The Inheritance of Loss Kiran Desai
39. Anne of Avonlea L.M. Montgomery
40. Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter: The First Death Laurell K. Hamilton
41. Emma Jane Austen
42. The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove Christopher Moore
43. Anne of the Island L.M. Montgomery
44. You Suck: A Love Story Christopher Moore
45. The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place E.L. Konigsburg
46. Coyote Blue Christopher Moore
47. Anne of Windy Poplars L. M. Montgomery
48. Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter: Guilty Pleasures Volume 2 Laurell K. Hamilton
49. Brisingr Christopher Paolini
50. Enchanted, Inc. Shanna Swendson
51. Anne’s House of Dreams L.M. Montgomery
52. Water for Elephants Sara Gruen
53. Fool Moon Jim Butcher
54. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn Mark Twain
55. A Dirty Job Christopher Moore
56. Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 8 Volume 1 The Long Way Home Joss Whedon
57. Anne of Ingleside L.M. Montgomery
58. The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror Christopher Moore
59. Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 8 Volume 2 No Future For You Joss Whedon
Excluding anything mentioned above, I think the best books I read were Water for Elephants, Sunshine, and The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place. They are very different from each other and yet all three were fully realized worlds. I found them all completely believable stories (yes, even the one with vampires) with compelling protagonists and a sense that I could have kept going once I finally got to the end. I have already recommended each of these three to various folks and I stand by that; they are wonderful tales, well-written and evocative and thoroughly enjoyable. On the other end of the spectrum, however, there’s The Inheritance of Loss, which I didn’t *hate* but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable. Breaking Dawn nearly ruined my enjoyment of the rest of the series by opening my eyes to the flaws that had been there all along, yet I had been miraculously able to ignore since I was so caught up in it. Everything else I’d have to say I had a more positive reaction than negative, or at least I could find something to like in it.
I did a completely crap job at keeping up with book reviews. I should do better. At least until the girl is born and then my reading will dwindle. So until then, I’m going to try to stick to easy reading and squeeze in as much as I can! Yay!
BOOKS READ IN 2008
1. Star Wars Tales, Vol. 2 Edited by Dave Land
2. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Volume I Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill
3. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Volume II Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill
4. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: Black Dossier Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill
5. For the Time Being Annie Dillard
6. Island of the Sequined Love Nun Christopher Moore
7. Wide Sargasso Sea Jean Rhys
8. Monstrous Regiment Terry Pratchett
9. The Vampire Armand Anne Rice
10. I Am Legend Richard Matheson
11. B.P.R.D.: Garden of Souls Mike Mignola
12. Breath, Eyes, Memory Edwidge Danticat
13. Bone: Out From Boneville Jeff Smith
14. Night Watch Terry Pratchett
15. Bone: The Great Cow Race Jeff Smith
16. Early Candlelight Maude Hart Lovelace
17. The Cat Who Walks Through Walls Robert A. Heinlein
18. Bone: The Eyes of the Storm Jeff Smith
19. The Light Fantastic Terry Pratchett
20. Bloodsucking Fiends Christopher Moore
21. Blue Shoe Anne Lamott
22. Bone: The Dragonslayer Jeff Smith
23. Twilight Stephenie Meyer
24. Bone: Rock Jaw Master of the Eastern Border Jeff Smith
25. Soul Music Terry Pratchett
26. Sunshine Robin McKinley
27. Bone: Old Man’s Cave Jeff Smith
28. Bone: Ghost Circles Jeff Smith
29. Bone: Treasure Hunters Jeff Smith
30. Bone: Crown of Horns Jeff Smith
31. New Moon Stephenie Meyer
32. Eclipse Stephenie Meyer
33. The Woman in White Wilkie Collins
34. Guilty Pleasures Laurell K. Hamilton
35. Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter: Guilty Pleasures Volume 1 Laurell K. Hamilton
36. Anne of Green Gables L.M. Montgomery
37. Breaking Dawn Stephenie Meyer
38. The Inheritance of Loss Kiran Desai
39. Anne of Avonlea L.M. Montgomery
40. Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter: The First Death Laurell K. Hamilton
41. Emma Jane Austen
42. The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove Christopher Moore
43. Anne of the Island L.M. Montgomery
44. You Suck: A Love Story Christopher Moore
45. The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place E.L. Konigsburg
46. Coyote Blue Christopher Moore
47. Anne of Windy Poplars L. M. Montgomery
48. Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter: Guilty Pleasures Volume 2 Laurell K. Hamilton
49. Brisingr Christopher Paolini
50. Enchanted, Inc. Shanna Swendson
51. Anne’s House of Dreams L.M. Montgomery
52. Water for Elephants Sara Gruen
53. Fool Moon Jim Butcher
54. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn Mark Twain
55. A Dirty Job Christopher Moore
56. Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 8 Volume 1 The Long Way Home Joss Whedon
57. Anne of Ingleside L.M. Montgomery
58. The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror Christopher Moore
59. Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 8 Volume 2 No Future For You Joss Whedon
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
New Year's Revelations
I broke down when we got home from my sister’s house on Christmas. I was feeling the pressure of all the things I’ve been putting off until “after the holidays”. Plus holiday and personality stress like my sister snapping at me earlier that morning and two pairs of Kirk’s brand new Christmas present underpants being accidentally thrown away. I need to feel like we’re making preparations for this baby. I definitely do not feel like Mr. b and I are on the same page as far as baby prep goes and even after talking to him about it I still don’t know that we are. But I did realize that I need to take control over something, anything.
I’ve joked about my procrastination habits for most of my life. I put off everything from school work to sewing projects and it’s continued into my adulthood, to an occasionally detrimental degree. I didn’t bother to submit the rebate paperwork for the dishwasher delivery fee in a timely fashion and we’ll likely miss out on that now. I still haven’t made an appointment for Kirk’s eyes or for my thumb, because neither are immediately critical issues so it’s easy to put off. I can’t allow myself to be so lacking when it comes to housework and homemaking and parenting and being a grown up.
My grandmother gave me a piece of advice that I’ve tried to follow: just do one thing every day so that your chores don’t pile up. The problem is that I’ve become accustomed to certain tasks and count them in lieu of others. Don’t feel like sweeping the floors? Well, how ‘bout I do a load of laundry that could wait until tomorrow instead. I rarely run out of clean clothes for the family to wear but the old stove top was usually a disaster. I recently read the sixth book in the Anne of Green Gable series. In it she’s a grown woman, married to Gilbert and raising their six (surviving) children. And she is constantly working, whether it’s in the garden or sewing something for one of the kids or something else, she is busy. When her friends come to visit they bring their knitting or lace making projects and they sit together and chat while working. Idle time for daydreaming is a luxury to be doled out sparingly. And I realized, I take my idle time for granted and it’s actually doing me a disservice.
I need to keep busy. I have excellent time management skills. At work I can juggle multiple deadlines and beat them easily. When cooking I can nearly always perfectly time out each element of a multi-part meal without actually thinking about it. I’ve known for years now that if I bustle about the house when I first get home from work, picking up or making dinner or something simple, that I’ll get a lot done but if I allow myself to sit on the couch first then the evening is a complete bust. So I obviously need to extend this to the post-dinner hour. Spending time on the internets is great. Watching TV is great. Reading is great. But I need to dial it back and make sure I keep it balanced. For me it’s not idle hands that are the devil’s playground but rather an idle mind. If I’m not focused on something then I start to over-think and over-analyze. Worry. Fret. And just generally freak out about life, the universe, and everything.
This afternoon I read this article about praise and boy did it lock in to place all the pieces of my previous revelation and self-awareness. I absolutely didn't bother to try at things that didn't come naturally. Putting in effort was for suckers and nerds; the "real" smart kids didn't have to work at it and I was always able to easily classify myself with that elitist bent. Besides, it’s not like there was an *actual* A+++ I could earn. (Extra credit? Of course! As long as it was easy.) College was a real wake-up call for me. No longer was Good Enough good enough when I was competing with students that actually tried. My Good Enough was no longer Spectacular in comparison. I do wonder how much of that old attitude is residual in what I now label as my natural procrastination? If I don't start a craft project until it's "due" then the only effort I'm putting in is the bare minimum needed to finish, right? Nothing extra.
I can also see that I already do praise the Captain very specifically. I will tell him that he’s awesome for a defined reason. He pooped in the potty all by himself. Why? Because he’s awesome. I praise him for trying something he’s previously declined to even attempt and give him detailed feedback when he’s particularly polite or does something completely on his own for the first time without prompting from me. I definitely think that must be a subconscious reaction to try to prevent the same thing from happening to him – being overwhelmed by too much adequacy.
I absolutely believe that being Good at too many things but Great at nothing is what has led me to my current I-just-fell-into-this career. I know my mom believes that the same thing happened to her and led to her becoming a teacher, because then she didn’t have to focus. I could never pick a minute enough topic for a dissertation and that was definitely as big of a factor as finances and general dissatisfaction with contract archaeology which allowed me to finally let go of the idea of grad school. And I think it has a lot to do with my inability to pick a career path now. I keep telling myself that I just can’t think about it until after maternity leave. But why? Why can’t I start researching and investigating my options? I’ve had countless job performance reviews where I’ve heard, “You’re just so much smarter than everyone else that it’s intimidating” but no real mentoring advice. So I’m on my own I guess. I need to take this newfound self-awareness and apply it to something more than just doing the dishes and cleaning the bathroom and sorting through Kirk’s old baby clothes to find the gender neutral stuff. Intelligence absolutely can be learned. Your brain absolutely can be exercised. I need to believe that I can stop this cycle of just taking the HR mandated promotions as they come and actually earn something. But godsdamn it’s going to be hard. And trying is just so foreign to me.
I’ve joked about my procrastination habits for most of my life. I put off everything from school work to sewing projects and it’s continued into my adulthood, to an occasionally detrimental degree. I didn’t bother to submit the rebate paperwork for the dishwasher delivery fee in a timely fashion and we’ll likely miss out on that now. I still haven’t made an appointment for Kirk’s eyes or for my thumb, because neither are immediately critical issues so it’s easy to put off. I can’t allow myself to be so lacking when it comes to housework and homemaking and parenting and being a grown up.
My grandmother gave me a piece of advice that I’ve tried to follow: just do one thing every day so that your chores don’t pile up. The problem is that I’ve become accustomed to certain tasks and count them in lieu of others. Don’t feel like sweeping the floors? Well, how ‘bout I do a load of laundry that could wait until tomorrow instead. I rarely run out of clean clothes for the family to wear but the old stove top was usually a disaster. I recently read the sixth book in the Anne of Green Gable series. In it she’s a grown woman, married to Gilbert and raising their six (surviving) children. And she is constantly working, whether it’s in the garden or sewing something for one of the kids or something else, she is busy. When her friends come to visit they bring their knitting or lace making projects and they sit together and chat while working. Idle time for daydreaming is a luxury to be doled out sparingly. And I realized, I take my idle time for granted and it’s actually doing me a disservice.
I need to keep busy. I have excellent time management skills. At work I can juggle multiple deadlines and beat them easily. When cooking I can nearly always perfectly time out each element of a multi-part meal without actually thinking about it. I’ve known for years now that if I bustle about the house when I first get home from work, picking up or making dinner or something simple, that I’ll get a lot done but if I allow myself to sit on the couch first then the evening is a complete bust. So I obviously need to extend this to the post-dinner hour. Spending time on the internets is great. Watching TV is great. Reading is great. But I need to dial it back and make sure I keep it balanced. For me it’s not idle hands that are the devil’s playground but rather an idle mind. If I’m not focused on something then I start to over-think and over-analyze. Worry. Fret. And just generally freak out about life, the universe, and everything.
This afternoon I read this article about praise and boy did it lock in to place all the pieces of my previous revelation and self-awareness. I absolutely didn't bother to try at things that didn't come naturally. Putting in effort was for suckers and nerds; the "real" smart kids didn't have to work at it and I was always able to easily classify myself with that elitist bent. Besides, it’s not like there was an *actual* A+++ I could earn. (Extra credit? Of course! As long as it was easy.) College was a real wake-up call for me. No longer was Good Enough good enough when I was competing with students that actually tried. My Good Enough was no longer Spectacular in comparison. I do wonder how much of that old attitude is residual in what I now label as my natural procrastination? If I don't start a craft project until it's "due" then the only effort I'm putting in is the bare minimum needed to finish, right? Nothing extra.
I can also see that I already do praise the Captain very specifically. I will tell him that he’s awesome for a defined reason. He pooped in the potty all by himself. Why? Because he’s awesome. I praise him for trying something he’s previously declined to even attempt and give him detailed feedback when he’s particularly polite or does something completely on his own for the first time without prompting from me. I definitely think that must be a subconscious reaction to try to prevent the same thing from happening to him – being overwhelmed by too much adequacy.
I absolutely believe that being Good at too many things but Great at nothing is what has led me to my current I-just-fell-into-this career. I know my mom believes that the same thing happened to her and led to her becoming a teacher, because then she didn’t have to focus. I could never pick a minute enough topic for a dissertation and that was definitely as big of a factor as finances and general dissatisfaction with contract archaeology which allowed me to finally let go of the idea of grad school. And I think it has a lot to do with my inability to pick a career path now. I keep telling myself that I just can’t think about it until after maternity leave. But why? Why can’t I start researching and investigating my options? I’ve had countless job performance reviews where I’ve heard, “You’re just so much smarter than everyone else that it’s intimidating” but no real mentoring advice. So I’m on my own I guess. I need to take this newfound self-awareness and apply it to something more than just doing the dishes and cleaning the bathroom and sorting through Kirk’s old baby clothes to find the gender neutral stuff. Intelligence absolutely can be learned. Your brain absolutely can be exercised. I need to believe that I can stop this cycle of just taking the HR mandated promotions as they come and actually earn something. But godsdamn it’s going to be hard. And trying is just so foreign to me.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
25 Weeks 6 Days
I had my doctor visit and glucose test yesterday. This time it was fruit punch flavor. The thing about that stuff is...it doesn't start out tasting so bad. And it's only 10 ounces. But you have to drink the whole thing in 5 minutes or less and frankly about halfway through it starts to just be Too Much. Hopefully the fact that I had just had pizza at my holiday lunch at work won't skew my results any. I definitely felt myself crashing once the sugar rush wore off later in the afternoon.
Weight-wise I've shot up 6 pounds since last month. That took me by surprise, though it really shouldn't have. My clothes have been noticeably tighter, even some of the maternity stuff I had saved from before. And I've been eating more. Many of the taste issues I've been having this pregnancy have suddenly lessened. And holy cow those savory breakfasts I've been favoring sure have a way higher calorie count. Plus my salt tooth has come back, though my sweet tooth is still going strong. So basically now I'm having twice the evening snacks since I'll have some chips or popcorn or something first and then move on to the candy or ice cream or cookies. Bad, bad, bad. I need to dial it back.
But hey, at least we have a working oven again! Mr. b found one on Craigslist earlier this week for the cost of the part to fix the old one. So he and my dad went to pick it up this morning and now it's in and I guess I should decide if I need to do any holiday baking or not. Certainly I don't need more sweets around the house. But I wouldn't mind bringing in something to share at work or at least bringing something to my sister's house for Christmas Day dinner.
Weight-wise I've shot up 6 pounds since last month. That took me by surprise, though it really shouldn't have. My clothes have been noticeably tighter, even some of the maternity stuff I had saved from before. And I've been eating more. Many of the taste issues I've been having this pregnancy have suddenly lessened. And holy cow those savory breakfasts I've been favoring sure have a way higher calorie count. Plus my salt tooth has come back, though my sweet tooth is still going strong. So basically now I'm having twice the evening snacks since I'll have some chips or popcorn or something first and then move on to the candy or ice cream or cookies. Bad, bad, bad. I need to dial it back.
But hey, at least we have a working oven again! Mr. b found one on Craigslist earlier this week for the cost of the part to fix the old one. So he and my dad went to pick it up this morning and now it's in and I guess I should decide if I need to do any holiday baking or not. Certainly I don't need more sweets around the house. But I wouldn't mind bringing in something to share at work or at least bringing something to my sister's house for Christmas Day dinner.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Fa La La La La
Being pregnant during choir season has been a considerably different experience this time than last. In 2004 I had only just found out I was knocked up and by the time we finished our holiday concerts I was still in the first trimester. Sure, the ladies all fussed over me and I didn’t feel 100% the whole time but it was relatively easy to get through.
I didn’t notice how much more difficult it has been this year during our three months of rehearsals. We sit down at practice. We go over trouble spots and have announcements and there’s fuckery between songs and it’s just not that intensive. Being in a concert? You’re standing and singing, nonstop, for an hour. I was fine during our charity concert two weekends ago because that’s a total of 7 songs, broken into two sets. I was mostly OK during the concert at my corporate campus last week but I definitely felt a bit woozy by the end. And then of course I missed the next one when I was recovering from being violently ill.
Monday was when our official, downtown-at-the-big-location shows started. And it was tough to make it to the end. I powered through and was relieved when we were done. I lip-synched through quite a few of the high and sustained spots but still made it. Yesterday? I had to sit down. I just crouched down on the risers and sat during an entire song, figuring that would be good enough. I couldn’t even finish the very next song, even with lip-synching. I left the risers and sat behind the group for the remaining 10 or 15 minutes. It wasn’t just weakness, though I definitely felt like I was going to pass out. I think it was a number of factors. I was hungry (our shows start at Noon). I was tired. It was frickin’ hot as hell in there. My choir clothes are ill-fitting because I don’t have any suitable maternity substitutes. But mostly I think it was the breathing. Being pregnant means you have reduced lung capacity. Physically your lungs are squished up and you can’t take in as much oxygen as you normally would. Before singing, most people start yawning as an unconscious way to sort of “fill up” on oxygen. I was trying to suppress yawns in the middle of the songs, especially when I was lip-synching. Essentially, it’s an hour of rhythmic hyperventilation.
And on top of that, I started getting foot cramps. Both feet, in the arches, at the same time. The entire time I was sitting down, trying to catch my breath and recuperate, I was fighting off foot cramps. I suppose I could have dealt with one thing or the other but not both issues at the same time. I vaguely remember hearing about the cramping being a preggo thing. I’ve gotten them off and on my entire life (thanks dance!) but I can rub or stretch them out. That didn’t work yesterday. Tenacious little pains they were. So now I’m getting ready to head downtown for our last concert of the season and I’m totally paranoid. I guess I’ll stand on the edge of the risers so if I need to make a quick getaway it won’t be as disruptive. But frankly I’m kind freaked out about the whole thing.
I didn’t notice how much more difficult it has been this year during our three months of rehearsals. We sit down at practice. We go over trouble spots and have announcements and there’s fuckery between songs and it’s just not that intensive. Being in a concert? You’re standing and singing, nonstop, for an hour. I was fine during our charity concert two weekends ago because that’s a total of 7 songs, broken into two sets. I was mostly OK during the concert at my corporate campus last week but I definitely felt a bit woozy by the end. And then of course I missed the next one when I was recovering from being violently ill.
Monday was when our official, downtown-at-the-big-location shows started. And it was tough to make it to the end. I powered through and was relieved when we were done. I lip-synched through quite a few of the high and sustained spots but still made it. Yesterday? I had to sit down. I just crouched down on the risers and sat during an entire song, figuring that would be good enough. I couldn’t even finish the very next song, even with lip-synching. I left the risers and sat behind the group for the remaining 10 or 15 minutes. It wasn’t just weakness, though I definitely felt like I was going to pass out. I think it was a number of factors. I was hungry (our shows start at Noon). I was tired. It was frickin’ hot as hell in there. My choir clothes are ill-fitting because I don’t have any suitable maternity substitutes. But mostly I think it was the breathing. Being pregnant means you have reduced lung capacity. Physically your lungs are squished up and you can’t take in as much oxygen as you normally would. Before singing, most people start yawning as an unconscious way to sort of “fill up” on oxygen. I was trying to suppress yawns in the middle of the songs, especially when I was lip-synching. Essentially, it’s an hour of rhythmic hyperventilation.
And on top of that, I started getting foot cramps. Both feet, in the arches, at the same time. The entire time I was sitting down, trying to catch my breath and recuperate, I was fighting off foot cramps. I suppose I could have dealt with one thing or the other but not both issues at the same time. I vaguely remember hearing about the cramping being a preggo thing. I’ve gotten them off and on my entire life (thanks dance!) but I can rub or stretch them out. That didn’t work yesterday. Tenacious little pains they were. So now I’m getting ready to head downtown for our last concert of the season and I’m totally paranoid. I guess I’ll stand on the edge of the risers so if I need to make a quick getaway it won’t be as disruptive. But frankly I’m kind freaked out about the whole thing.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Worst. Night. Ever.
Last night I got up with Kirk at around 2:40. That's pretty common. He frequently ends up with a wet bed because those damn pull-ups just seem to leak all the time. The problem this time? I couldn't fall back to sleep. And it wasn't regular insomnia. I started having nasty cramps.
My first thought, of course, was to freak out about the baby. How many weeks am I? I can never remember. It's somewhere around 24 I think. Definitely not far enough for a premature birth. But then the nature of the cramping didn't fit with the actual early labor pains that I experienced last time. This was more violent. Could it be food poisoning? I had been out to dinner with some girlfriends earlier that night. Still, it wasn't until the puking started that I finally eradicated the notion of it being gestationally related.
Two and a half hours later I was finally able to head back to bed. The chills and the hot flashes and the issues at both ends all made me wonder the whole time if this was somehow bad for the baby. The little girl, however, was extremely active during the entire ordeal. That was a comfort, if you can call anything comforting while going through that. I guess she thought it was a party in my tummy.
My first thought, of course, was to freak out about the baby. How many weeks am I? I can never remember. It's somewhere around 24 I think. Definitely not far enough for a premature birth. But then the nature of the cramping didn't fit with the actual early labor pains that I experienced last time. This was more violent. Could it be food poisoning? I had been out to dinner with some girlfriends earlier that night. Still, it wasn't until the puking started that I finally eradicated the notion of it being gestationally related.
Two and a half hours later I was finally able to head back to bed. The chills and the hot flashes and the issues at both ends all made me wonder the whole time if this was somehow bad for the baby. The little girl, however, was extremely active during the entire ordeal. That was a comfort, if you can call anything comforting while going through that. I guess she thought it was a party in my tummy.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Geekery
Recently we finally got a dishwasher and we naturally gave the box to Kirk to play in. It comes equipped with two doors and two windows.
Kirk has been referring to it as his spaceship. Mr. b has been calling it a TARDIS. Either way, it’s been fun to watch him play in it. Of course now it’s relegated to the basement but still. Kirk would announce, "Bye! I’m going to space. See you later!" and then disappear into the box. I love his imagination and his fascination with space.
I don’t feel like having us as his parents has in any way forced science fiction upon him. If anything, it’s simply made it more available to him but the tendency has always been there on its own. Kirk quickly focused his attention on Buzz Lightyear, rather than Woody, when first watching Toy Story. We have had nothing to do with his preference for The Incredibles over Ratatouille. Sure, when he was in his Star Wars phase last year we had a selection of lightsabers already on hand for him to play with. But even when he was a baby he was captivated by the planets and robots in the Baby Galileo video. That’s not something you can predict.
I do remember having the same natural predilection when I was little. I loved the Maurice Sendak "Little Bear" stories but my favorite one was where Little Bear went to the moon. I would tape the Wonderful World of Disney Sunday Night TV movies and only keep the ones like Earth Star Voyager. My first hazy memory is of seeing Star Wars at the drive-in with my parents. I didn’t know it was a specific genre that I was drawn to. I never even made the connection until decades later.
There’s the concept of the Stealth Geek that I enjoy. (Though lord knows in our hipster music circles everyone is pretty open about their Doctor Who and Battlestar Galactica and Lord of the Rings obsessions.) I think that Kirk is already showing awareness of a receptive audience. When a friend of the family was over recently and she mentioned Star Trek he started chatting excitedly about the show. He’s got his favorite couple of episodes and showed off how he put action figures in his Little Einsteins rocket to use as the Enterprise. But when he was around his cousins over Thanksgiving he didn’t mention anything of the sort. They talked about Cars and whatever attack-Mr.-b’s-cousin game they were playing. I’m impressed that he’s already that cognizant of the cultural divide. And that he finds common ground with people to discuss something they find interesting, instead of just going off on his own topics. I’ve realized I do that, too. I unconsciously keep a mental catalogue of common interests with rarely seen friends and acquaintances so that I always have an easy conversation starter when I do see them.
It’s intriguing to hear people’s reactions to Kirk’s interests though. Some just shrug it off as inevitable. Others think it’s cool that we don’t have to put up with the usual Barney and whatever garbage. But it’s not like he doesn’t watch any of the standard PBS/Disney Channel/Nickelodeon kid’s shows. He just mixes it up with stuff that we genuinely enjoy as well. And frankly, I don’t see anything wrong with that.
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Breaking Fast
Just when I think I've got this whole breakfast thing finally figured out...it seems like my tastes are changing yet again. It made a certain amount of sense that I was wanting a protein infusion in the morning to get me started and then carbs late in the day to fuel the overnight baby factory shift. Lords knows the squirminess is at disco proportions in the evenings. And dairy in general has given me heartburn so it also makes sense that I'd be avoiding that. A couple people have suggested protein shakes instead of eggs and that just sounds revolting. I'm not even having yogurt as second breakfast anymore and I've done that for years and years. Frankly, most of my calcium is coming from late night ice cream and Rolaids!
So now that I've adjusted and have been trying all the Jimmy Dean Breakfast Bowls and other savory quick meal options, cereal is starting to sound attractive again. I still haven't been brave enough to try a bowl before going to work in the morning. None of the cold cereals I have in the cupboard sound tasty to me. And I haven't even been buying myself skim milk lately because it's not like I'd be drinking it. But hot, whole grain cereals have been calling to me on the weekends again. I had a bowl of oatmeal this morning with Kirk's 2%. I haven't yet figured out how to interpret that.
The strangest craving that I'm dealing with this pregnancy is candy. I don't mean chocolate. I don't even mean cookies or cake or sweet-tooth stuff in general. I mean candy. Skittles and Starbursts and Dots and gummy bears and that kind of thing. Can't get enough of it. I usually manage to resist all day and then end up eating a bunch at night an hour before going to bed. Which can't possibly be good for either being currently inhabiting this body. And yet, I can't stop it. It's so weird. Objectively, I'm kinda freaked out by this behavior. I'm normally a salty snacks gal. This is just plain odd. But yummy!
So now that I've adjusted and have been trying all the Jimmy Dean Breakfast Bowls and other savory quick meal options, cereal is starting to sound attractive again. I still haven't been brave enough to try a bowl before going to work in the morning. None of the cold cereals I have in the cupboard sound tasty to me. And I haven't even been buying myself skim milk lately because it's not like I'd be drinking it. But hot, whole grain cereals have been calling to me on the weekends again. I had a bowl of oatmeal this morning with Kirk's 2%. I haven't yet figured out how to interpret that.
The strangest craving that I'm dealing with this pregnancy is candy. I don't mean chocolate. I don't even mean cookies or cake or sweet-tooth stuff in general. I mean candy. Skittles and Starbursts and Dots and gummy bears and that kind of thing. Can't get enough of it. I usually manage to resist all day and then end up eating a bunch at night an hour before going to bed. Which can't possibly be good for either being currently inhabiting this body. And yet, I can't stop it. It's so weird. Objectively, I'm kinda freaked out by this behavior. I'm normally a salty snacks gal. This is just plain odd. But yummy!
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
On the Road
Driving nearly 10 hours with a freshly potty trained 3 year old went surprisingly well. We pulled over once each way for a side of the road pee break but the rest of the time Kirk made it to a rest stop or gas station with no problems. Well, there was that one instance of a little turd nugget escaping into his underpants but it wasn’t really a Big Accident. And since we’ve been home he’s been pretty dang good about pooping in the potty instead of his overnight diaper. So that’s a good change!
He did start a new habit of stalling out bedtime by getting up to pee a hundred million times after being put to bed. He had a bout of insomnia one night (thankfully his cousins weren’t kept up by his constant movement) and would ask for more juice and then pee and then ask for more juice and then pee and then ask for more juice… Our new thing is to not allow him to get a refill – and by refill I mean an inch or less of beverage in his sippy cup – unless he pees first. Even if it’s 2 in the morning. I’m just plain sick and tired of changing sheets every frickin night. Next step is convincing him he can get up and go pee by himself. Last night he got up 5 times! “I gotta go pee!” “Well then go!” He doesn’t request an escort during the day so I’m not sure what the difference is. Then again, he doesn’t ever get out of bed on his own, even in the morning. He waits until someone opens the door or turns on his light or something. Which is great for preventing any unannounced appearances during Mommy and Daddy Time, ahem, but is definitely something we’ll have to work on for bathroom visits.
Mr. b is thinking of getting a portable DVD player. And not actually to use in the car. Kirk keeps himself entertained with toys and singing (hearing a little kid sing the Ramones “Beat on the Brat” is pretty much the cutest thing ever) and looking out the window and talking to us and everything else that you do while on a long drive. I just don’t think watching movies in the car is something we need. But I agree that it might be fun to have the TV to ourselves now and again when Kirk is dead set on watching something he’s already seen 50 billion times. On Sunday afternoon, while we were recovering from the Thanksgiving trip, Mr. b was in the bedroom watching something, I was in the living room watching the episode of Top Chef I had missed, and Kirk was in his bedroom watching Cars on the laptop. It was silly and modern and perfect. It’s not like it would be a common occurrence either. But hey, we live in the future so why not go for it?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Pre-Turkey Round-Up
Yesterday I had another ob check-up. I'm glad for how quick and easy they always are. Get weighed (gained another pound so that plus 2 last month puts me back at my "starting weight" which, granted, was at least 10 and closer to 20 pounds more than it ought to have been), check blood pressure, wait for New Doc. Then when he comes in it's up on the table to measure my belly, listen to the heartbeat, and that's it really. I rarely have any questions. He rarely has anything to ask me about. Next month, however, is the glucose tolerance test. Bleh.
I realized tonight while rinsing out the shower that my normal high levels of natural shedding have seriously been curtailed. I don't remember it dropping off like this when I was preggers with Kirk. But I also didn't have the massive chemo levels of hair loss postpartum either. Should be interesting to see if that happens this time.
Tomorrow we drive south to Springfield, MO, for Thanksgiving feasting. It'll be the first long drive we've taken since Kirk's been in underpants. I'm not really sure what to expect. I've pulled out spare pants to keep in the car just in case but he's really been accident-free for quite some time now. He's even been having dry naps for the past week or so. Overnight is another matter entirely but I don't count that. Except for the pooping thing. He continues to eschew the potty for poops. He's regular and goes every night: in his overnight diaper after he's been put to bed. We've been trying to at least convince him he needs to let us know so we can then change his diaper. He's had a poo-burned butt far too frequently of late from sleeping in his own crap. Gross. How can he stand that?
I'm bored of my paltry selection of maternity shirts already. I still have some to pull out that were obviously for when I'm further along but I think I might start in on them sooner, just for variety. Otherwise, I'm going to have to do some shopping.
I realized tonight while rinsing out the shower that my normal high levels of natural shedding have seriously been curtailed. I don't remember it dropping off like this when I was preggers with Kirk. But I also didn't have the massive chemo levels of hair loss postpartum either. Should be interesting to see if that happens this time.
Tomorrow we drive south to Springfield, MO, for Thanksgiving feasting. It'll be the first long drive we've taken since Kirk's been in underpants. I'm not really sure what to expect. I've pulled out spare pants to keep in the car just in case but he's really been accident-free for quite some time now. He's even been having dry naps for the past week or so. Overnight is another matter entirely but I don't count that. Except for the pooping thing. He continues to eschew the potty for poops. He's regular and goes every night: in his overnight diaper after he's been put to bed. We've been trying to at least convince him he needs to let us know so we can then change his diaper. He's had a poo-burned butt far too frequently of late from sleeping in his own crap. Gross. How can he stand that?
I'm bored of my paltry selection of maternity shirts already. I still have some to pull out that were obviously for when I'm further along but I think I might start in on them sooner, just for variety. Otherwise, I'm going to have to do some shopping.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Abdominal Adjustments
I think I’m crossing some sort of belly line. I’ve definitely felt in transition or in flux for the past couple of weeks. There were times when I thought that my stomach was just unmistakable and yet other times where it was easily camouflaged by my clothing. I would look hugely pregnant to myself from the vantage of looking straight down upon my own roundness but in profile it wasn’t always obvious. And sometimes I would find myself sitting for a while and didn’t actually feel like I had a pregnant belly. It felt normal, except for the movement inside to remind me of reality.
Something subtle has changed though. Just this week my pants are finally starting to show signs of being tighter. Sure, most of them are still my regular pants but I no longer need to wear my belt on the last notch. No belt is fine. Jeans are no longer possible. I wore a pair last Friday and was so uncomfortable all day. I have a vague memory of needing maternity jeans before other maternity bottoms last time around so it must be something to do with denim. I’m wearing maternity jeans right now – just the kind with the elastic waistband, I hate the belly panel ones – and it’s a definite improvement. I’m also getting good use out of the clothes I bought for returning to work after maternity leave. Pants and suit jackets that were so big I should have had them taken in and tailored after loosing weight but was too lazy are now starting to fit quite nicely. So hey, more use out of that forgotten corner of my wardrobe!
My belly is just plain *feeling* bigger now, too. I’m starting to feel the pull of gravity. I can make a noticeable difference simply by holding my stomach up, whether I’m sitting or standing. I don’t think my posture has changed much, yet I’m definitely feeling joint aches that would go along with my center shifting to adjust for this new front load. I am still able to sleep on my front, well maybe 7/8 on my front, but that’s still better than nothing and I know it won’t last. I suppose this is all just natural as I move closer to the end of the second trimester.
It is a little ridiculous that I’m already having trouble reaching my feet. Since this is a winter pregnancy, I’m not going to be able to get away with simply sliding into some sandals. Pulling on boots is increasingly tough. And when stretching at the gym I have to physically move my stomach out of the way when I bend over and it smooshes against my leg.
It’s also strange to use the phrase “my eyes are bigger than my stomach”. But the reduced eating capacity is continuing along unabated. I’m saddened to know that I physically won’t be able to pig out at Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. But since pork and poultry are the two proteins I’ve been craving most frequently, it’s convenient that we’ve got the ham and turkey holidays coming up!
Something subtle has changed though. Just this week my pants are finally starting to show signs of being tighter. Sure, most of them are still my regular pants but I no longer need to wear my belt on the last notch. No belt is fine. Jeans are no longer possible. I wore a pair last Friday and was so uncomfortable all day. I have a vague memory of needing maternity jeans before other maternity bottoms last time around so it must be something to do with denim. I’m wearing maternity jeans right now – just the kind with the elastic waistband, I hate the belly panel ones – and it’s a definite improvement. I’m also getting good use out of the clothes I bought for returning to work after maternity leave. Pants and suit jackets that were so big I should have had them taken in and tailored after loosing weight but was too lazy are now starting to fit quite nicely. So hey, more use out of that forgotten corner of my wardrobe!
My belly is just plain *feeling* bigger now, too. I’m starting to feel the pull of gravity. I can make a noticeable difference simply by holding my stomach up, whether I’m sitting or standing. I don’t think my posture has changed much, yet I’m definitely feeling joint aches that would go along with my center shifting to adjust for this new front load. I am still able to sleep on my front, well maybe 7/8 on my front, but that’s still better than nothing and I know it won’t last. I suppose this is all just natural as I move closer to the end of the second trimester.
It is a little ridiculous that I’m already having trouble reaching my feet. Since this is a winter pregnancy, I’m not going to be able to get away with simply sliding into some sandals. Pulling on boots is increasingly tough. And when stretching at the gym I have to physically move my stomach out of the way when I bend over and it smooshes against my leg.
It’s also strange to use the phrase “my eyes are bigger than my stomach”. But the reduced eating capacity is continuing along unabated. I’m saddened to know that I physically won’t be able to pig out at Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. But since pork and poultry are the two proteins I’ve been craving most frequently, it’s convenient that we’ve got the ham and turkey holidays coming up!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Language
Kirk’s got a couple of new speech quirks I’ve been noticing. The most obvious one is that he says “almos’” when he means “also”. I’ve tried to correct him but I don’t think he’s aware that he’s doing it wrong. And he does it that way every time. The other one I haven’t quite figured out yet. Because I’m not sure if he’s saying “see” or “sÔ. It really could go either way. I wish I could come up with a sample snippet of conversation. He’ll be going along, telling a story about his toys or a movie or something and I’ll ask a question and he’ll say…one of those. And they both work! “See. Balok was just a puppet!” “SÃ. Balok was just a puppet!” He is either clarifying or agreeing. There’s so much Spanish in children’s education television that it wouldn’t faze me one bit for him to have picked that up. I just honestly don’t know which it is!
Monday, November 17, 2008
Restless Brain Syndrome
The preggo insomnia is really starting to take its toll on my mental facilities. I’m just barely holding on to a thread of rational thought today. I don’t remember the sleeplessness being so bad when I was pregnant with Kirk. Sure, it was difficult to get comfortable and I woke up to pee more times than should be allowed without turning into a punchline. But the straight up inability to stay asleep wasn’t an issue.
I’ve had sporadic random insomnia throughout my life. Usually I can fall asleep no problem but if I wake up in the middle of the night I can’t get back to sleep, often for a couple of hours. But I generally only woke up from a weird dream or an odd noise or something, and it certainly wasn’t common. Now I’m waking up nearly every night, either to pee or because Kirk’s demanding something from the other room. Even if I make Mr. b go attend to the boy, well, I’m still awake.
So then I toss and turn and my brain goes into overdrive and all my old tricks for calming my thoughts don’t work anymore. Last night was especially bad because a level of crazy got added. I don’t know if it’s hormones or sleep deprivation but I ended up bawling for nearly an hour. After spending an hour or so watching reruns of M*A*S*H. After gazing out the front window into the dark street. After restlessly flipping about from side to side in bed for an hour. I feel like a ghastly human. I was filled with so much self-loathing and pure hatred. The reason I woke up? I was sleep slapping Mr. b to get him to stop snoring. In my head I thought I was stopping him from spoiling me on episodes of Angel I hadn’t gotten to yet. He ended up moving to the spare bed in the basement. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I’m a terrible mother. I spanked Kirk – in public – earlier that evening when he hit me in the belly at the store. And then when he stumbled and stubbed his finger while getting out of the car back at home I didn’t comfort him. And then when he was slamming the bedroom door against the wall, causing a doorknob shaped ring to be pressed into the wall, I grabbed his hand to stop him and squeezed too tight and hurt him. I’m a cruel and vicious person. What right do I have to bring another human into the world? How can I possibly be a good mother?
I also felt so alone. I don’t have anything in my life to identify me other than being pregnant. I have no hobbies. I have no interests. I have nothing going on, no plans or strategies. I feel like I have nothing to control. Everything is breaking around me. Our DVD/VCR has been useless for a while now. We watch discs on a Playstation 2 and just don’t watch anything on tape. Our new dishwasher still isn’t installed because the handyman keeps putting off the work. Our oven no longer works, the heat won’t come on, so even though the range top works we have to figure out if it’s fixable or if we need to magically find the money for a new stove. Our car is paid off but that just translates to constant issues, the latest dealing with tires. Our ARM resets next year and will we even be able to afford to live in our too small house with crappy appliances?
I feel this little girl squirming inside me and I worry about the pregnancy. I didn’t fret about that last time at all. But now each little abdominal twinge, each poo cramp or stomach growl, each time I don’t feel her moving (certainly not for long enough to be a *real* concern), sets me off on a bad train of thought.
I’m just so tired.
I’ve had sporadic random insomnia throughout my life. Usually I can fall asleep no problem but if I wake up in the middle of the night I can’t get back to sleep, often for a couple of hours. But I generally only woke up from a weird dream or an odd noise or something, and it certainly wasn’t common. Now I’m waking up nearly every night, either to pee or because Kirk’s demanding something from the other room. Even if I make Mr. b go attend to the boy, well, I’m still awake.
So then I toss and turn and my brain goes into overdrive and all my old tricks for calming my thoughts don’t work anymore. Last night was especially bad because a level of crazy got added. I don’t know if it’s hormones or sleep deprivation but I ended up bawling for nearly an hour. After spending an hour or so watching reruns of M*A*S*H. After gazing out the front window into the dark street. After restlessly flipping about from side to side in bed for an hour. I feel like a ghastly human. I was filled with so much self-loathing and pure hatred. The reason I woke up? I was sleep slapping Mr. b to get him to stop snoring. In my head I thought I was stopping him from spoiling me on episodes of Angel I hadn’t gotten to yet. He ended up moving to the spare bed in the basement. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I’m a terrible mother. I spanked Kirk – in public – earlier that evening when he hit me in the belly at the store. And then when he stumbled and stubbed his finger while getting out of the car back at home I didn’t comfort him. And then when he was slamming the bedroom door against the wall, causing a doorknob shaped ring to be pressed into the wall, I grabbed his hand to stop him and squeezed too tight and hurt him. I’m a cruel and vicious person. What right do I have to bring another human into the world? How can I possibly be a good mother?
I also felt so alone. I don’t have anything in my life to identify me other than being pregnant. I have no hobbies. I have no interests. I have nothing going on, no plans or strategies. I feel like I have nothing to control. Everything is breaking around me. Our DVD/VCR has been useless for a while now. We watch discs on a Playstation 2 and just don’t watch anything on tape. Our new dishwasher still isn’t installed because the handyman keeps putting off the work. Our oven no longer works, the heat won’t come on, so even though the range top works we have to figure out if it’s fixable or if we need to magically find the money for a new stove. Our car is paid off but that just translates to constant issues, the latest dealing with tires. Our ARM resets next year and will we even be able to afford to live in our too small house with crappy appliances?
I feel this little girl squirming inside me and I worry about the pregnancy. I didn’t fret about that last time at all. But now each little abdominal twinge, each poo cramp or stomach growl, each time I don’t feel her moving (certainly not for long enough to be a *real* concern), sets me off on a bad train of thought.
I’m just so tired.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Gender Appears Female
Ten fingers. Ten toes. All the correct organs in all the right spots. And three little lines between the legs, apparently the labia. It seems that Mr. b beat me to the punch and already wrote up his thoughts on learning we are having a girl. Like he said, we all already knew that it was a girl. I was 90% sure going in to the ultrasound that it was a girl. For Kirk I was definitely leaning towards boy but I didn’t have anywhere near the certainty that I felt this time.
I had lunch on Friday with my mom and some of the retired ladies from her swim class. Finding out the sex of the baby came up and some of them couldn’t believe that you’d want to know. But one of the oldest of the ladies pointed out that they never had the chance to know. The technology didn’t exist then. Basically it came down to some of them would have wanted to find out and some of them would have still waited. I thought that was interesting since that’s exactly how it is now. I can’t imagine not wanting to find out and people that wait can’t imagine wanting to spoil the surprise!
Of course now we are starting to seriously look at the logistics of having another human in the house. First of all, where do we put her? It was easy with Kirk because we just moved the guest bed downstairs and turned the guest room into his bedroom. But neither of us really want to try to squeeze a crib back into his room now that it’s finally been removed. And I don’t think it would be fair or healthy for Kirk to deal with being awakened every night for feedings and all that goes along with a new baby. But there’s certainly no space in our room for more than a bassinette, and barely even that to be honest. So I think we’re going to move downstairs.
The basement living room has an egress window and is counted as a third bedroom. We’d be able to use our current room as a guest room and have plenty of space downstairs for a crib and other baby equipment. Then when she’s older and sleeping through the night we can revisit sharing a room with her brother. Mr. b was talking bunk beds if she was a boy but I don’t see why that can’t still happen. I don’t see anything wrong with a brother and sister sharing a room – at least until they’re 8 or 10 or so. And presumably at that point we’ll have moved into a bigger place anyway. So in the meantime we need to get Kirk used to the idea of him sleeping on a different floor of the house than us. I’m not sure how he’s going to react to being the only one upstairs at night.
And we need to start rearranging furniture and getting rid of crap and organizing the basement. Which is all good stuff and will force us to better utilize a lot of space that’s currently going to waste. And I think we’ll get a dorm fridge in which to keep baby milk.
I had lunch on Friday with my mom and some of the retired ladies from her swim class. Finding out the sex of the baby came up and some of them couldn’t believe that you’d want to know. But one of the oldest of the ladies pointed out that they never had the chance to know. The technology didn’t exist then. Basically it came down to some of them would have wanted to find out and some of them would have still waited. I thought that was interesting since that’s exactly how it is now. I can’t imagine not wanting to find out and people that wait can’t imagine wanting to spoil the surprise!
Of course now we are starting to seriously look at the logistics of having another human in the house. First of all, where do we put her? It was easy with Kirk because we just moved the guest bed downstairs and turned the guest room into his bedroom. But neither of us really want to try to squeeze a crib back into his room now that it’s finally been removed. And I don’t think it would be fair or healthy for Kirk to deal with being awakened every night for feedings and all that goes along with a new baby. But there’s certainly no space in our room for more than a bassinette, and barely even that to be honest. So I think we’re going to move downstairs.
The basement living room has an egress window and is counted as a third bedroom. We’d be able to use our current room as a guest room and have plenty of space downstairs for a crib and other baby equipment. Then when she’s older and sleeping through the night we can revisit sharing a room with her brother. Mr. b was talking bunk beds if she was a boy but I don’t see why that can’t still happen. I don’t see anything wrong with a brother and sister sharing a room – at least until they’re 8 or 10 or so. And presumably at that point we’ll have moved into a bigger place anyway. So in the meantime we need to get Kirk used to the idea of him sleeping on a different floor of the house than us. I’m not sure how he’s going to react to being the only one upstairs at night.
And we need to start rearranging furniture and getting rid of crap and organizing the basement. Which is all good stuff and will force us to better utilize a lot of space that’s currently going to waste. And I think we’ll get a dorm fridge in which to keep baby milk.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Halloween
Halloween turned into a major family event.
My sister moved on Tuesday so I had invited her girls over for trick-or-treating.
I figured she needed one less thing to worry about while sorting through boxes and cleaning and all the rest of the shit that goes with a major move. But then I also realized that since she’s always lived in apartment buildings, my nieces have never experienced neighborhood trick-or-treating before!
My parents both came down, too, (my brother had car trouble so his boys couldn’t join us) to enjoy the costumed festivities. They live in the boonies now so this is the first Halloween they’ve had in years. My dad said he most missed passing out candy so he manned the front door while Mr. b and Nana took the kids around. I was the floater and both went out as well as hung out with Dad and carved my pumpkin. By the end Dad was wearing a scary mask and just terrifying the older, late-comer kids, which was never not hilarious.
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