Latest Developments

Kirk had his Four Year Well Child Check last week. When do they start calling them annual physicals? It seemed sort of anticlimactic because he didn’t get shots. Doc P said she likes to save them up for the pre-kindergarten visit so it’s like a rite of passage. That makes sense. She was impressed with his intelligence (he was prattling on and on about dinosaur extinction) but also gave us literature on dealing with a kid that demands constant attention. Because…yeah. It’s definitely getting ridiculous with that kid. Doc was able to ease our minds on a couple of issues. Kirk often complains of a sore knee. But since there doesn’t seem to be any consistency, it’s likely just growing pains. I’ve also noticed he complains of being “so tired” or seems almost depressed at times. As long as he is easily snapped out of it, it’s just normal emotional development. So that’s a relief. We also brought Miss V with just to show her off, heh.

Sweet Bundle is back to a more normal sleep schedule finally. Having her wake up as early as 1am was getting rough, since I’m too lazy to return her to her crib. She was draining me dry before I would even get up in the morning! As I suspected, her step back was a prelude to a new trick: she’s rolling every which way now. I set her down on the floor blanket and she’s off before I even realize it. She can roll both directions and genuinely likes tummy time so she uses it as a method of locomotion more than anything. I find her under the rocking chair or under her swing, playing with furniture from below. She’s also starting to sort of side-crawl. She’ll get into half-roll position and push with her foot instead of roll over, scooting herself forward an inch. I predicted that she’ll be actually crawling in a week. Maybe that’s an underestimate but it’s going to be real soon. Quicker than her brother, that’s for sure.

Kirk’s on the last stages of night-time potty training. He was sleeping in underpants for a week or two and staying dry but after a couple of nights of peeing the bed he wanted to go back to wearing Overnights. He hasn’t been willing to try underpants again yet, even though his diaper has been dry most mornings. Mr. b has been great in producing this project. I think it’s close to his heart because he was a bedwetter into his elementary school years. I personally would have gone the lazy route and let the boy wear Overnights without thinking about it but I admit it’s been nice to give him praise and encouragement for such a Big Boy achievement.

Veronica likes carrots. Or else she just has no choice because when her daddy feeds her he means business. HA! I hadn’t made it to the grocery store yet last weekend so just pureed up a bunch of carrots for her. They’re not as silky smooth as purchased baby food but like I said, she seems to like them. We’ve also been mixing a little bit of apple juice into her rice cereal on occasion for a couple of weeks now. Which means that Ronnie officially eats three food groups!

Boobies

I was looking through my old posts about Kirk at about the same age as Ronnie is now. The nursing ones especially. It’s truly amazing to me just how much effort I put into getting that boy to eat boobie. And I kept it up, too! There were so many setbacks, from him not latching on to not having a pump once I had to return the hospital rental. Sweet Bundle got it figured out before we even left the delivery room at the hospital!

I managed to keep up the attempt for a good four months before calling it quits. Kirk was definitely ready since he didn’t really care in the first place. Ronnie is five months and I am only just now starting to even contemplate weaning eventually, much less make plans for it. Neither of us are anywhere near ready for it. Kirk was formula fed with breast milk supplement and Ronnie is breast fed with formula supplement. Completely opposite situations. Plus, I can pump at work easily thanks to my sister passing on her Medela.

I’ve developed a pumping routine that seems to work nicely. I go twice a day and pump for 15 minutes each time. It takes about 25 minutes total because of set-up and clean-up. I tried going three times a day but it didn’t make any difference to my milk supply and was too hard to fit into my work schedule. I’ve definitely had days where a meeting gets scheduled during one of my usual pumping times, generally about 10am and 2pm, and I have fidgeted and watched the clock, waiting to get out so I could release the pressure. I guess it’s sort of like having to pee really badly. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s certainly uncomfortable. I had a programming class a few weeks ago and had to ask the guard at the building if there was a lactation room. That was an interesting experience.

The milk I pump generally gets used within a day or two at home. I was freezing it if the bag hit the one week mark but all of the frozen milk has since been used. There seems to be a sort of macho competition between women about how much milk they produce. The more and you “win”. Well, I loose apparently. I bring home about 7 ounces of milk a day, combined after two pumpings. Sometimes maybe a half ounce more and sometimes maybe a half ounce less but it’s really been pretty consistent. That’s not enough to feed the world and definitely not enough to feed chowhound Bundle at daycare so I never bothered even trying to send milk with her each morning. It’s easier to use it at home.

Now that Miss V is eating rice cereal the milk gets mixed into that and then she finishes whatever was left as a post-cereal bottle. That seems to be working for both of us as it gives me a chance to fill up again after the usual just-got-home-from-daycare feeding. Even if she just had a bottle before I picked her up, she still wants to nurse and that’s fine with me. It’s cuddling, bonding time for us. Same with co-sleeping. Veronica hasn’t really settled into a new schedule yet since the introduction of cereal into her diet. I think she’s also undergoing a pre-new-development regression, causing her to sleep fewer hours in a row at night. I remember Kirk doing that before each new trick. So I bring the girl into bed with me to sleep-nurse when she wakes up and since I fall back to sleep, she never makes it back into her crib.

I did read that Kirk got the go-ahead for apple juice, cut with water, after his four-month well-baby visit. I hadn’t even thought of that for his sister. She hasn’t had anything since the prune juice lattes of her constipated early weeks. I’m going to have to ask about that at her six-month well-baby. It seems the rules change all the time and vary from doctor to doctor. One thing at a time I guess. We’re still getting used to balancing Daddy playing with Brother while Mama feeds Sister.

Chow Time

Ronnie’s eating patterns changed somewhat over the last few days. She’s been waking up earlier and earlier at night and eating nearly constantly for those few hours she’s in bed with me. So we decided to try cereal last night. She seemed to really like it! Obviously she has to learn to swallow the different consistency but she didn’t get mad like Kirk did on his first go. Maybe that’s because we’ve got some experience in the matter and maybe it’s just because she’s proving to be an all-around easier baby than he was. I did feel a slight twinge of “my baby is growing up” melancholy but only slight.



Awesomely, I managed to get a dinty conversation in this video. Kirk loves pizza but won’t eat the dinties. That’s the toppings. I don’t have a clue where he came up with that word but we’ve been using it for several years now so it’s just part of the family vocabulary.

Gifts

I love hand-made gifts. I’ve just always been a fan. The time and effort and creativity that goes into them makes them so meaningful and precious. Kirk had several fantastic gifts of that sort. Of course there was the Enterprise sweater but he also had some awesome onesies that were hand decorated, a Tintin quilt that’s hanging on his wall, and I knitted him a little white hat and matching booties. I have done nothing of the sort for Veronica.

Thankfully, other people are picking up my slack. A couple of my aunts have made her some blankets, bibs, and a crocheted cube toy. Just this week we received this awesome TARDIS sweater, once again made by the inimitable akg!



The Trekkies sent around a card again, too. Lovely folks, one and all!

Bundle got this adorable hat from the fabulous monkeypants. It’s still a bit big but should fit perfectly for the fall.



And superbadfriend was super badass and painted Ronnie her very own orangedotstickbutt. And hand delivered it!!!



We hung that sucker up in the kids’ room right away.

Transportation

I think Bundle has officially outgrown the Bjorn. I noticed the last time I had her in it, just for a neighborhood walk, that it seemed rather snug. She’s been facing forward for quite some time now, with the top folded down, so it’s not like there’s even another transformation we can make to eek out a bit more time. This weekend Mr. b had her in the Bjorn at a local art event and he noticed it was tight, too. In fact, once she was taken out to be passed around between friends, we never bothered to put her in it.

So I pulled the old umbrella stroller out of the coat closet. I think we have a “younger” stroller somewhere but hell if I know where. This umbrella stroller has definitely seen better days. It’s stained and the plastic latch to keep it folded is busted off and yeah, it’s been used. They’re cheap so I should just pick up a new one. Regardless, Ronnie fit in it just fine. She and Kirk and I went on a long walk and she really, really enjoyed it.

Veronica may have to deal with hand-me-downs with her baby equipment but at least clothes are one area where not everything is second hand from her brother. Yes, I’ve gone through his old bins and pulled out everything reasonably gender neutral. But that doesn’t add up to much. And there are so many cute little girl clothes to choose from! I love that brown seems to be the It color for girls this season. I happen to already be a fan and brown and pink is just a fantastic combination.

Veronica's Post

Ronnie had her 4 month check up yesterday. Nothing exciting to report, which is as it should be. She’s getting huge, now weighing 14 pounds 1 ounce (65%) and is a tall girl at 25 and a half inches (90%). All physical development is on track and we can start her in on cereal in the next few weeks or so.

She’s starting to hold on to toys so I added some plastic links to her carseat.



She brings toys up to her mouth but doesn’t necessarily chew on them yet.



She continues to be a drool machine however. Doc said no teeth are immanent.



For some reason, I can’t get her to smile on camera. She has the most beautiful smile. Such an enormous, genuine grin. My dad was tickling her and I ran to get the camera, but once she saw me with it she went back into serious mode.



She’s got some awesome clothes. I love these legwarmers.

Kirk's Post

Naturally Mr. b let Kirk open one of his presents from us a couple days early.



They spent quite a lot of time putting together “the courthouse what’s on fire” and playing with all the other Cars.



The main attraction, however, was saved for Kirk’s actual birthday: the drum set!



We had it set up in the basement and brought him downstairs, unawares.



Kirk requested that it be moved into his bedroom, understanding that meant the vast majority of his toys had to go downstairs. Now he and his daddy have band practice.

FOUR!

We had Kirk’s birthday party this weekend. I was impressed that he understands it wasn’t his “real” birthday. I had explained that people have to work on his birthday this year so we were having his party on the weekend so people could come and bring him presents. Lots of presents.





I’m never organized enough to make actual goodie bags for the kids but I did pick up some random crap stuff for them to play with during the party. Mini-frisbees, bubbles, and candy necklaces.



We actually planned ahead and got a Star Trek cake. How cool is it that they have Star Trek cakes standard at the Target bakery right now? Love it when there’s a new movie out and kicking box office ass.



Apparently it was exceptionally tasty cake.



Young Miss V had fun being passed around.



But she crapped out hard when we all had quiet time after the party.



My sister and her family stuck around and that evening we walked up to the local Jamboree for fireworks and carnival rides. Mr. b was the best Drunk Uncle of all time and bought the kids shitloads of glow-in-the-dark bullshit. By the time we all got back home, my sister decided to give in to her girls’s constant begging to sleep over. So the tent went up in the backyard and Mr. b, Kirk, A1, and A2 all spent the night out there. I think Kirk’s still wrecked even today.

Current Events

No means no. No I’m serious. It really does. When I tell you to stop jumping next to your sister, you need to stop. When I tell you to stop climbing the side of the couch, that doesn’t mean you should do it again. One more time is not an option. You need to quit.

Bundle slept basically through the night. I got her down about 10pm and she didn’t start to stir until nearly 5am. I don’t expect it to last but it was a pleasant surprise!

I’m really overthinking party times for Kirk’s Fourth Birthday Party.

The little girl is rolling over. It’s largely unintentional but it’s also pretty regular. She’ll be startled by her sudden back position after having just been propped up on her tummy and it’ll freak her out. Ronnie also likes to curl up on her side when lying on her back and is starting to move into tummy time from there. So both ways. Time to dig out the baby gate. And make sure the floors are cleaner. Ugh.

Kirk has a workaround for hate speech. He is not allowed to shout, “I don’t like you Mama” or Daddy or anyone else. So when he’s pissed he’ll bust out with, “I don’t like everyone.” It’s kind of hilarious. And who hasn’t had those moments of extreme misanthropy?

When I leave my nursing pads out they end up of the floor by morning. I figured one of the cats was playing with them but I wasn’t sure which one. Last night I saw Squeakers Squirrel sniffing at them. I guess it makes sense she’d be interested in the sweet smell of dried on boobie milk.

The kids are usually the last ones there when I drop them off at daycare. All the others gather around Veronica in her carseat while I help Kirk get his shoes, and hoodie if he’s wearing one, off and put away. Then he gives me at least one of the following: a hug, a kiss, a high five, a fist bump (blow it up), a nose rub. Sometimes I get all five. Then I give the Bundle a kiss and I’m off.

Kirk is starting to sometimes claim he “had a bad dream”, about twenty seconds after he’s been put to bed. Not falling for it.

Sleeping Arrangements

Last night was Bundle’s second night in her crib in her brother’s room. So far, so good. I mean, it’s a work in progress, obviously, but we’re getting there. Kirk’s got a set bedtime ritual and once the routine is completed, he’s done. It’s easy to move bedtime up when necessary, just by starting procedures earlier. Ronnie, however, just eats and eats and eats and eats and then passes out. There’s no real adjustments possible. She’s generally sacked by 10:30, though it can happen earlier. So basically, I just sneak into the sleeping boy’s room, put the sleeping baby in her crib, and sneak back out. We’ve got the monitor set up so I’ll go fetch her when she wakes up in the 2am-4am range to eat again. Theoretically she could then go back but since we’ve mastered the laying down nursing position I generally just keep her in bed with me until I have to get up anyways.

I think the trick is going to be those nights where she falls asleep earlier and he’s wound up and talking to himself in his bed for two hours. We’ll see what happens.

Eye Boogers

Ronnie had her first non-weight check or well baby related doctor’s visit yesterday. She woke up with her right eye crusted shut. It had been sort of boogery/mucusy on and off for the previous two days but never really that bad. She hasn’t had a fever or any other signs of sickness, other than a slight cough, so I hadn’t been worried about her. But even though having your eye that crusty is a pretty legitimate reason to go in to the doctor, I still wondered if I was just being an alarmist parent.

Doc didn’t seem to think I brought her in unnecessarily. He prescribed some eye drops, which I suck at administering. Babies have such immature sinuses that mucus can only really escape through the tear ducts and that in turn can cause an eye infection. I’m just glad that her first sickness is an easy one.

Science!

Last night Kirk stepped on his sister. On her chest. The thing is, he wasn’t being malicious. But it also wasn’t an accident. He was experimenting. I was in the kitchen and I heard Bundle scream out in pain. When I turned around I saw him bent down and giving her kisses. It took a second to register that he had done something before I started in with the accusations. “What did you do to her?!”

When he admitted he stepped on her I had to ask where and he rubbed her chest. So then I had to check to make sure everything felt OK before I picked her up to comfort her. I asked if it was an accident and I could see the wheels turning before he answered no. Yeah right. If it had been a foot or hand I could buy accident. Hell, even arm or leg. But not chest.

After Mr. b got home from school I found out that Kirk had been testing the waters earlier. He had apparently been lightly resting his foot on her, removing it quickly when his father saw what he was doing. So clearly it had been on his mind for a while. That helps explain why he didn’t seem very remorseful. But he knew he was in trouble and he brushed his teeth extra good last night as a peace offering.

This is only the beginning of the sibling fun.

Dead TV

I’ve always been a fan of reading the source material for movies. Not just sci-fi and fantasy but anything really. I think I first developed the habit after seeing “Howard’s End” and then equally adoring the book. I enjoy rereading each Harry Potter before its movie comes out and trying to guess the changes that the screenwriters had to make. It’s gotten to the point where I will read something I’ve been vaguely aware of or “meaning to” get to and once I hear that an adaptation is in the works then I’ll hurry up and check it out of the library.

I’ve been stuck in a vampire fiction rut for a good year now. It’s easy. And there are so many series to choose from that once I start one I don’t have to think very hard about what my next book will be. Check out the next one in the list!

Well, now it seems these two things are converging on me. Only not movie adaptions but rather television. The only television series that I’ve also read the source books from is The Dresden Files. I saw the show before I started reading the books and I haven’t gone back to rewatch the episodes to see how closely they hewed to the novels. I am aware of some character changes but I’ve got the two mentally categorized as fairly separate entities so it doesn’t really bother me. Plus, since I am already in the habit of doing mental script adaptations, I think I’m much more accepting of necessary alterations than the typical rabid fanatic.

I started reading the Southern Vampire Mysteries, also known as the Sookie Stackhouse series, once I found out that HBO’s show True Blood was based on them. The DVDs of the first season just came out and I’m excited to start watching. I’m hesitant, however, because I don’t wait to spoil myself – for the show or for the books! I’ve only read the first three and I don’t know how much the show has deviated from the plots. This should be my first experiment. The next series to be adapted is Anita Blake. I’ve gotten through the first four of those and the mini-series-as-series-pilot hasn’t even been filmed yet. So I should be quite a ways into it by the time it airs. The final series, however, I think I’ll skip entirely. I think I might be past the suggested read-by age for The Vampire Diaries. Sure, I devoured Twilight but then I turned into an LOLfan after that ghastly fourth offering. And the CW show they’re basing on the books seems just too…Twilight angst times Gossip Girl teens and I don’t know that I can take it. Boone on Lost did nothing for me so having him cast as a vamp is just not enough of a draw. Should be interesting to see if it makes as big of a splash in the zeitgeist as Twilight did.

Role Playing

Kirk likes to act out movies and TV shows. Sometimes he’ll play the roles, like when he’s the Doctor, and sometimes he’ll use props, like his millions of Cars vehicles. If he doesn’t have any proper merch then he’ll use whatever he can find. He managed to gather together stand-ins for all the characters from the Brave Little Toaster, and plays with them in the kitchen because that’s where the toaster is.



Most frequently he’ll want to play musicians. This has been going on for a good couple of years now. He used to wear a gaudy plastic ring so he could be Ringo Starr. He used to wear a crapped out cowboy hat so he could be Dave Gahan. He’s got his own kid-sized guitar and sings along to videos and has great rock stance. But he always comes back to the drummers. He always wants to know who the drummer is when he’s introduced to a new band. He always wants to be able to see the drummer whether we’re watching American Idol or the Rolling Stone’s Rock n Roll Circus.

Since his only drums are a plastic baby toy set he got for like his first birthday (shhhh, we’re pricing out proper mini-kits), he likes to use anything and everything available. I’m not sure if the old diaper genie was promoted to drum status or if that’s a demotion since it was previously playing the role of a Dalek…



Poor Ringo has most definitely lost out on Favorite Drummer status. That honor now belongs to Nick Mason of Pink Floyd. Kirk’s fascination with volcanoes gets to crossover with his rock knowledge thanks to Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii. He loves watching Roger Waters slowly walk over to the gong during the prog madness. And he quite literally plays Saucerful of Secrets: The Game. He’s Nick of course. He’ll even make Mr. b sit down on the ground and use a busted off piece of lightsaber as a slide to properly portray David Gilmore.

Bathing Beauty

I have never given my daughter a bath. I'm not sure how it's ended up that way but there you go. They've all been administered by her daddy. In fact, Ronnie has graduated from the sink to the bathtub and I still haven't bathed her myself.

The End of an Era

Well, it’s over now. I’m nearing the end of Day Two back at work.

Last Friday Bundle had her Two Month well baby appointment. Everything looks good. She’s now at 10 pounds 3 ounces (over 4 pounds gained!) and 23 inches long (nearly 5 inches!) and has a little head (in the tenth percentile). Doc reiterated that he thinks her sporadic pooping is just her own preference. He asked lots of questions about it and thinks it sounds normal, though not common. Her belly button sticks out super far and that’s due to a small hernia; again normal and should heal itself without any intervention from us. She got her first shots, complete with Real Tears, and that’s about it. Oh, and she does seem like being a redhead is a real possibility. Especially in the sunlight there is definite auburn hair going on.

Grandma and Grandpa stayed with us until Sunday before flying back to Texas. It seemed like little Ronnie underwent an emotional growth while they were here: she smiles for real now! I love that part. Nothing like an infant’s genuine pleasure. I love it when she’s suckling away and then suddenly grins on the boob. But it also means that she’s moving into the part where she doesn’t think it exists if she can’t see it and so separation anxiety begins. Which makes my going back to work even harder.

Drop off yesterday morning went well. Of course she didn’t know what was coming. C said she ate well and didn’t need the breast milk I had sent with as comfort food just in case. So I’ll be freezing the milk I pump during the day at work. So far I’m pumping twice a day and getting quite a lot. I have a little picture of my bundle on the pump case and a snippet of her fussing saved on my phone so I can trigger the mental impulses to start the milk flowing. I should bring some of her used laundry to smell, too, but that seems like work. But even with the pressure relieved mechanically, I was still desperate for her to get back on the breast as soon as we got home. Mr. b and Kirk were heading to the store and after looking at us nursing on the couch just chuckled and said, “You two have fun.” Still, it took some time before she seemed like “mine” again. She just didn’t look at me the same way when I picked her up in the afternoon.

To just get it all over with at once I’ve also begun crib training. Well, not precisely. I don’t want to disturb her brother’s sleep in their room so instead it’s technically bassinet training. Same method we used with Kirk though: put the Bundle in her bundle bin rolled into our darkened bedroom, let her cry for X number of minutes, go in and comfort her, put her back down, wait for a longer period, go back in, and so on. It only took a few tries and then she slept soundly for a good solid four hours. She’s been a very noisy sleeper all along and prone to only sleeping on the boob or resting on one of our chests so I think this is a great first try. Hopefully when she’s too big for the bin she’ll already be used to sleeping by herself and the transition to the crib will be relatively easy.

I do feel kind of like I’m betraying her trust though. Leaving her with a stranger all day and then not even holding her all night. But hey, I still keep her in bed with me once she wakes up to nurse. Now that we’ve got the laying down position figured out good enough it’s easier to just roll over and switch her from side to side as she wants more boobie. And she was in a good mood this morning, even falling asleep on the “lengthy” five block drive to daycare, so I guess she’ll forgive me eventually. One day at a time.

Three Things

1) Kirk started his new daycare on Monday. Things seem to be going well. It's definitely more structured than his old daycare but I think that's a good thing. It also feels somehow more "official" because there were forms to fill out. We walked there this morning and yesterday morning. I love that it's walking distance! Kirk still talks about his old gang when confabulating but I'm sure the new kids will start getting mentions after he's been there a while.

2) We bought a new car Monday night. It's a 2009 Pontiac Vibe. Our '99 Jetta, Otto Rodriguez, had been dying a slow death for the past year or so. If it was just Mr. b and I we probably would have continued to limp him along for a while yet. But we're a one car family and we need something 100% reliable now that there are kids in the picture. It's just slightly bigger but enough to make a difference with two carseats in the back.

3) Mr. b's parents are flying up from Texas this afternoon! They haven't met their new granddaughter yet. We're all very excited to see them. Kirk is looking forward to taking them to Target and pointing out everything that he wants that his mean mama and daddy won't buy for him. They're only here through Sunday so the visit is going to go way too fast. And then when they're gone it means I have to go back to work.

Child Garden

Friday morning we took Kirk in for his Kindergarten pre-screening testing. It's required by the state of Minnesota for all children attending public schools. There were three parts to the screening: mental development, physical development, and bureaucracy.

We had a lot of paperwork to fill out, some of it immediately identified by Mr. b as remnants of the "progressive" programs instituted by New Dealers. Then we all went in to meet with the first of three ladies. She had Kirk build small towers of blocks, do some counting, pick the correct opposites, match shapes, do simple drawing, things like that. As a parent it was incredibly difficult to keep my mouth shut. I wanted to nudge him in the right direction, give him hints, or simply laugh at his hilarious attempts or failures. There were several instances where he got something wrong that he knows perfectly well how to do. But I suppose having the patience to go through this process is part of the whole "readiness" idea.

Next we went to get his eyes checked. That seemed silly to me since obviously Kirk wears glasses. He wasn't interested in their old school vision chart and the lack of friendliness on the part of the woman administering this portion of the exam certainly didn't help. We gave up on that and tried to do the hearing test. But she accidentally stepped on Kirk's foot and he cried and cried and cried and we gave up on that, too. I have two forms for medical professionals to fill out now. He's got his eye check-up next week but the hearing one will have to wait for his next physical in July. I remember doing all these tests in elementary school and really enjoying the hearing one especially. Mr. b says he remembers them, too.

Lastly we met with a lady to review all the results. Kirk's age bracket, 3.8-3.9 years, needed to score an 18 out of 48 on the mental stuff. He got a 32. So no worries there. Basically, everything is on track and there are no areas of concern. We found out which elementary school he'll attend - and that he'll ride the bus - and that's about it. It was an interesting process and definitely a milestone. It's hard to believe I'll have a "school aged" child soon but he'll start Kindergarten next year!

Yay Poop!

Tonight Bundle finally pooped. It had been six days. A couple of weeks ago she stopped going several times a day - or even every day. After three days she had a major blow out and things have been irregular ever since. This was the longest wait, however, and I had actually called the doctor earlier this week. We were advised to mix in one ounce of prune juice with three ounces of formula or milk, once a day. It totally looked like cappucino. Thankfully it only took two of them. If she hadn't pooped by today I would have had to call Doc back.

I have no idea what caused this though. I've heard the theory that the baby is growing and using up every last bit of caloric energy and therefore not having anything to excrete. That seemed reasonable to me when it was just once. My dad loves telling the story of me being constipated as an infant and "popping like a cork". But that doesn't really match Ronnie's issue. I think we're going to be doomed to repeat nqllisi's experience with her daughter: a month of repeated poo strikes and prune juice treatments. I'll ask Doc for his insight at her two month appointment next week. And...I guess we'll just have to see what tomorrow's diaper holds.

A Family Matter

When my mom was first diagnosed with MS in 1986 no one knew what it was. Very few people had even heard of it, much less knew what it stood for. At age 11, I quickly developed a short speech to explain it to my friends. Since then we've come a long way. It seems like everyone knows of someone with MS - when it used to be somewhat kept under wraps. Celebrities with MS have come out and advocated for understanding and continued research. You can help. I'm a notorious procrastinator and once again, the walk is this coming Sunday! I apologize for the short notice but donations will be taken until May 29th. I appreciate any help you feel willing to give.
Thanks in advance!

Consider a pledge to end multiple sclerosis and support me during Walk MS: Twin Cities Walk 2009.

MS stops people from moving. The National MS Society exists to make sure it doesn’t. Please help by making a donation — large or small — to move closer to a cure for MS. Or, why not join me on the day of the event? Become a participant and side by side, as teammates, we will move together to raise the funds that make a difference.

Whatever you can give will help. I greatly appreciate your support and will keep you posted on my progress.

Click here to visit my personal page and make a secure, online donation.

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Me and Bundle McGee

Friday night Mr. b's band played the fashion show in the Twin Cities. We had planned on me attending this event since he first got the gig, sometime last fall. I've been out a couple of times since having Ronnie, once with the mister and once with the girls, but this was going to be major. We arranged to have the kids sleep over at my sister's house. We took the bus so we could both drink without concern. And it was a ton of fun.

But sometime during the second or third band (each band had two designer's lines shown during their set, here's the first during Mercurial Rage and here are some clips of the entire evening) I got a text from my sister. "What time do you think you will be done? Bundle really needs her mom." Well shit. That put a bit of a damper on things. But what was I supposed to do? I replied that there was still several bands left and that neither of us would be able to drive anyway. So she offered to come and get us.

Ultimately it was no big deal. We stayed until the end of the music and fashion and got a chance to talk to nearly all of our friends in attendance while waiting for my sister to show up. I had stopped drinking - and had only had three at that point anyway - once I first got the word from her so I could safely nurse Veronica once we got home. But it also made me think and I had a bit of a revelation: I am not ready to go back to work.

This was supposed to be my last week of leave. Eight weeks is not enough. So I talked to my manager and I'm taking one more. Sure, nine weeks isn't really *that* much more but I think it's going to make all the difference in the world. I'm still going to have a much harder time going back than after my leave with Kirk. I had 12 or 13 weeks then and he went to Auntie Daycare so I was able to convince myself he was merely hanging out with his cousins. This will feel much more painful and final. I am going to bawl my eyes out on the way to work that first morning.

Free Music!

Mr. b's fantastic band, Mercurial Rage, has a new single out today!

Mercurial Rage have been raising the roof around here for the last couple years with their uniquely infectious, ultra danceable sounds. Taking influence from the finest exponents of electronic pop’s first Golden Age (think Depeche Mode, The Cure, and dance-rock bands like Happy Mondays and Primal Scream), The Rage add their own totally unique lyrical stamp and jaunty melodic personality.

Download their awesome three-sided-single here!

Recovery

Well, now I can go back to work. I don't want to but I have my doctor's OK. How the hell did I afford such a long leave with Kirk?

My post-partum check-up went smoothly. Everything's healing as it should be. I guess there are still some stitches that haven't fully dissolved but they're the inner most ones. I'm pretty sure I tore during delivery - 5 minutes of pushing goes extremely fast and I don't remember them making me pause for an episiotomy like last time. I noticed that Doc was referring to some notes in my file throughout my visit and I finally got a glimpse: it was a summary from the on-call doctor at the maternity ward! I don't know that I even said a single word to her. Doc showed up about 10 minutes after Ronnie was born and while he checked her over, basically all he did was congratulate Mr. b and I and shake our hands.

Since we're absolutely determined not to have an "oops" I definitely wanted to get on birth control right away. Supposedly nursing is about 90% effective, at least until your first period. And the no estrogen mini pill is also about 90% (and won't dry up your milk supply), but combined the two are as good as the regular pill. Doc said I should give the pill a couple of weeks to get into my system and double up on contraception until then. As much as we'd like to get back to normal marital relations, Mr. b and I are both a bit hesitant. I don't remember how long after Kirk's birth we waited.

It seems I had gained a total of 15 pounds from the time of my first ob visit until my final one. And now I'm officially 16 pounds less than that final weigh in. Doc was worried that such rapid weight loss might mean I was too busy taking care of the kids first and forgetting about myself. I assured him I'm eatin' like an eatin' fool. I actually need to make sure I don't go overboard with that. I gained weight after Kirk's birth because while I was nursing some, I wasn't nursing much. But I was ingesting enough calories for full time milk production. I suppose for the moment (the barnacle is attached to my boob as I type this one-handed) I don't really need to be concerned. Everything will change when I go back to work.

Regime Change

We finally found a new daycare. First I was looking into preschools for Kirk but they were all ridiculously expensive if you needed all-day coverage. Then I was looking into centers that had preschool programs as well as infant care but they were all ridiculously expensive. So then I started going through in-home daycares and found that infant openings were rare and precious commodities. We interviewed a lady a couple of weeks ago and really liked her but wanted to do due diligence and check out some other places as well. But our car broke down and we couldn't make it to the next appointment I had set up.

I decided it must be fate. First of all, this new woman is walking distance from us. That's...miraculous actually. And she had given me a phone list of her kids' parents and the ones I spoke to gave her unbelievably glowing reviews. And I was completely and utterly paranoid that we'd loose out on the infant spot if we didn't just jump on it. So Kirk and Ronnie will be starting when I go back to work.

Which means that I gave two weeks notice to K on Monday. I'm going to keep Kirk at home with me and the Bundle my last two weeks of leave. We'll save a little bit of money and it'll give him a more defined transition period. I've been mentioning to him that when his sister is big enough to get to go to daycare he'll get to go with her. And he attended the interview at C's house with us so he got to play with the toys and meet her and seems cool with it all. I know he'll miss his little friends but we can always have play dates.

The thing that I found troubling was that K did not seem in the least bit surprised when I called her to give notice. Granted, it's probably common sense that we wouldn't want to do dual drop-off in the mornings and that we'd want Kirk to be with his sister. But that implies that she would have known that when she gave away our infant spot. She didn't tell either Mr. b or I that we were in competition. That she was interviewing another family. She just announced to me, via email, while I was pregnant that oh, by the way, she won't be able to take the new baby. And that hasn't sat well with me all this time.

Friends and co-workers have been rather vociferous on the subject. But I honestly have only the best things to say about the care that Kirk has been given during his couple of years with her. Yet there have been some other professionalism issues that have come up, all having to do with scheduling. Largely they were the result of miscommunication but it was frequent enough that we actually had to have words about it. And I think that since that point we have been passive aggressively pushed out. Even Mr. b agrees with me on that theory, and he is notoriously unaware of subtext. It's sad and I don't understand why we got that treatment but there it is. So now we'll get to start all over. I'm just glad to have the frantic search completed. I feel really positive about the new place.

What's On My Mind

Ronnie continues to be a champ at nursing. The only position we don't seem to have mastered is laying down in bed; it's good enough that I can catch an hour of sleep before returning her to her bassinet if I'm desperate. She does, however, go through these periods of feeding frenzy every few days where she's chomping at my nipples and demanding boob like every 30 minutes. Usually in the evenings. When I get to the point where I can't take her squirming anymore then I pass her on to her dad. Mr. b has been working on bottle training her. It's slow going but he reminded me that it was hard work with Kirk, too. And she's obviously got to learn.

I'm still not getting much via pumping but I guess I don't care. We can have Ronnie on formula at daycare and I'll continue to pump when I go back to work and that's what we'll have for everything in between.

Kirk continues to be absolutely smitten with his sister. He takes his big brother duties very seriously. If I ask him to watch her for a minute, he'll literally watch her. He loves announcing that she "wants boobie" when she starts to fuss. He's very patient and understanding about the fact that she doesn't do anything yet. He talks about how she's growing and will learn things. It's darling and sweet.

I think we've finally discovered his reversion though. Kirk wants to sleep in our bed a lot again. It's been quite some time since he's done that. If Mr. b happens to be crashed on the couch or downstairs I don't mind because there's enough room, even if Ronnie is next to me instead of in her bundle bin. But all four of us gets crowded! Last night Kirk just brought himself to our bed; I have a vague memory of him showing up and Mr. b just woke up and he was there. The problem was that Kirk apparently thought that if I was awake at 4 am nursing his sister then he could be up and jumping around and telling stories. His father got him put back into his own bed after that.

I took the bundle in for the obligatory visit at work yesterday. I can't believe my leave is already half over.

I'm so ready to start the allowed-to-have-sex-again countdown.

I think I've already lost the miniscule amount of baby weight I gained this time. My pants all fit already. And I haven't even started exercising yet. I plan to start that next week. I can feel the laziness in my muscles. Or at least, I can feel it during those rare moments when I'm well rested. I'm eating like a maniac, however, so I think milk production must be helping. The lactation nurse at the hospital said you need an extra 300 calories a day when you're pregnant but an extra 500 when you're nursing. Damn. I can tell.

I need to investigate the rules for drinking. I've heard that beer can help with milk let down and I'm presuming that means one drink in general and not beer specifically. I figure one drink won't affect the milk. Mr. b has bought me a couple of those flavored Smirnoff thingies and I haven't been able to finish one the two times I've had one. (Of course he bought me tall boys both times and then got to finish them himself so there may have been an ulterior motive there.) I know the phrase "pump and dump" but I don't know the details. At what point does the alcohol hit the milk ducts? Is the milk that's in there when you start drinking fine? What if you can't drain it all or how can you tell it's safe again?

There's a subtle difference to how I view us as a unit now that we have two kids. Before we were a couple that had a son. Now we're a family.

Here's What Happened: Part 2

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

...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.

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?

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…)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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!

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!