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.

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!

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 “sí”. 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!” “Sí. 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!

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.

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.

Halloween

Mr. b compared my making a costume for Halloween to him learning a bunch of cover songs for the various charity concerts Mercurial Rage has been playing lately: hours and hours of work for a very short pay-off. I rather liked that. I’m mostly pleased with how my costume turned out. I should have shortened the bodice and I could nitpick the placement of the tassel and if I had a dressmaker’s dummy I could have done the beading a bit straighter. But really, it’s just a Halloween costume and it’s Good Enough.

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.

Sneak Preview

Here's what we'll be going as for Halloween this year.

Stuff

This morning Kirk left the house for daycare carrying the following items:

a juice cup

a sandwich baggie filled with cereal

his blue blankie

a plastic grocery bag filled with 8 or 9 Cars (all numbered race characters)

his pillow with the Incredibles pillow case

We did not help him carry any of these items and he was clearly overburdened with too much crap. He even stumbled up the step on K’s sidewalk when we arrived at daycare. However, the rule is You’re In Charge Of Your Own Stuff. I have my own stuff. Mr. b has his own stuff. If Kirk wants to bring anything, then he needs to be sure he brings it. We refuse to turn the car around on the mornings he’s wailing because he forgot whatever item it was he’s upset about not having. He’s in charge of his own stuff.

18 Weeks

I haven’t been doing a very good job of keeping track of what gestational week I’m on this pregnancy. I had to actually ask the doctor yesterday. I knew approximately but I wasn’t sure exactly. I know that my “day” is Sunday but I had just completely spaced out if I was already at 18 or coming upon 18. The former.

I guess that’s one of those Second Pregnancy things. Mr. b is experiencing a different one; he said he can’t even imagine how he could possibly love the new baby as much as he loves Kirk. I’ve actually heard that one before. I’m not sure why I’m not feeling it. Maybe because the reality of another lifeform is more immediate for me? I mean, I can literally feel it moving around.

Mr. b also hasn’t been able to come to all of my ob visits with me like before. Yesterday was the first time he got to hear the heartbeat! He announced he could just tell it’s a girl. New Doc was amused. They also had a small bonding moment of making fun of the preggo’s lack of logic. (Dammit, it makes sense to me to want to buy a new Boppy pillow instead of just steal the old one off of Kirk’s bed!)

It was an uneventful visit other than that. As they should be. I’ve gained 2 pounds since last month which is good I guess since I had been loosing before then. I did learn about the weird sharp pains I’ll occasionally get deep in my belly if I stand up too fast or shift position too abruptly. Apparently it’s the ligaments that anchor the uterus getting stretched and not keeping up with what’s required of them. Makes sense to me and nothing to worry about.

Procrastination

Last night Mr. b asked me what I was doing. I answered truthfully, "Procrastinating." He declared that Denny Thor, procrastination, and potatoes are my three favorite things in the world and has promised that should he ever write a comic strip about me it will be titled Procrastination & Potatoes. [Inside Joke Explanation: Mr. b once drew me a picture of my "boyfriend", Denny Thor (a long haired surfer), after teasing me mercilessly that I looove hateful Denethor, Steward of Gondor and father of Boromir and Faramir, which is painfully untrue though I will admit that the actor did a fantastic job of portraying such a wretched man in the film.]

I finally bought fabric for my Halloween costume last weekend. But did I start working on it? No I did not. Instead, I made Kirk a pillow case. While at the fabric warehouse, he and his father found some adorable Incredibles flannel and Kirk asked me to cut him some. I still have about a yard left which I figure I’ll either back with some cotton for a simple small "quilt" or else maybe stuff as a teddy bear. I’ve managed to put off that unnecessary project though so at least one thing is waiting its turn.

I was bound and determined to not let my procrastinatorial nature stop me from working last night. So after two loads of laundry I was finally ready. To sort through my old maternity clothes! I pulled out everything not sleeveless or obviously warm weather and started trying stuff on. I vividly remember the weird loss of self I experienced last time from wearing clothes I never picked out on my own. I love hand-me-downs but there came a point where I couldn’t recollect my own sense of style. So I immediately pulled out the items I know I didn’t wear because I wasn’t sure if I liked them or not, as well as the stuff that is just plain too small since I’m starting off several pounds heavier than last time. I’m still wearing my regular pants though so I’ll save that session for another day. I guess that’s another vote for "girl" since carrying high is a girl indicator, right?

I really did finally get some work done on my costume. Cut out all the skirt pieces. After making Kirk’s bed and spending some time on the internets. Sheesh. I’m pathetic. But now that I’m started I really will be fine. And I mean, the deadline is coming up and that’s what procrastinators need: deadlines. The tough part will be making the bodice pattern since the pattern I’m using is missing those pieces. Since I’m already sizing the whole thing up I’d have to do math anyway so it’s less dire than it would appear.

Potty Party

Kirk went to daycare wearing underpants today. We’ll see how that went when I pick him up.

It was a good potty training weekend. He’s been accident free all evening (post-daycare until nigh-nighs) for a week now so both Saturday and Sunday we put him in underpants as soon as he got up. Still wearing a diaper at night and during naps of course. No accidents until at the very end last night, as he was getting ready to have a bath. But Saturday afternoon he actually peed at the store. And not just any potty useage, he peed in the little shortie urinal! We were ridiculously pleased with him and since we had been contemplating getting one anyways, and they happened to be there on sale for $19.99, we bought him a floor rug with roads and crap printed on it as a prize.

There is, however, an unexpected side-effect to potty training while pregnant. My gag reflex is being activated. I am not a squeamish person. But last night I had to call Mr. b into the bathroom to transfer a giant duke from the potty chair into the toilet. Because I was ready to puke into the sink just from the shit stench. I have never had that before. So many nasty infant poos and disgusting toddler poos and hell, years of cleaning cat boxes, and I have never retched from the smell before. I guess it must be preggo nose but damn. I was queasy for like 20 minutes after that. Sure, we haven’t been changing many poopie diapers of late but this was more than just being unused to the butt wiping gig. I hope my reaction doesn’t scar the poor boy.

Sugar & Spice?

While going through my old posts I was reminded of all the fun gender identification myths out there. Mr. b and Kirk have both been calling this kid “she” since the beginning and they must be winning me over or something because I’m definitely getting girl vibes now. For one thing, the only names I can think of are female. And frankly, my top girl name is the same girl name we picked out last time and didn’t use. I’m glad we both love it still. Another indicator is the heartburn issue. OK so like all of these, there’s a 50/50 chance that they’re accurate; that doesn’t make them not fun! Even though I had been told that heartburn = girl, I was told more often that heartburn = boy. (And also heartburn = lots of hair at birth but that’s not relevant here and wasn’t the case with Kirk At. All.) At this point in my last pregnancy I was already popping the Rolaids like no tomorrow. I think I’ve had maybe a half dozen all told so far this time? And honestly, that could just as easily have been regular ol’ heartburn instead. Hopefully that means that I’ll get a break and it won’t get bad until my stomach is so squished up that the acid has no place to fit. That’s just physics folks, pure and simple. Of course I feel like utter crap today and have already had to choke down a mouthful of bile but that’s not regular heartburn either. Then there’s also the “a girl steals her mother’s beauty” trope. I am definitely feeling that one. I’m not saying this to plead for compliments either. I just don’t really see myself in the mirror anymore. I see someone that looks like me but is missing that spark that I do think makes me attractive. It’s not that I radically cut off my hair and I needed to get used to that. I always radically cut off my hair when it’s gotten too long. (I just don’t think haircuts are any fun if all you’re doing is chopping off a couple of inches. What’s the point in that? It’s hair people! It grows! Have fun with it!) No, this is something deeper that I can’t put my finger on. Maybe it’s a self-perception issue entirely but I do keep coming back to that phrase and wondering about it.

I’ll have my ultrasound in about a month or so and we will most definitely find out if possible. So who knows, I could be totally wrong here. But I wanted to put my prediction out there just in case.

Irony

Yesterday evening we went to Target to pick up Kirk's hard-earned prize: a Screamin' Banshee. He filled in his potty chart with stickers for every poop in the potty and that was the final goal. He was beyond excited. (We need to come up with a new prize for the next round of potty training - I want to give stickers for no accidents next.) But as we were leaving Target I saw the back of his pants; he was soaked through. OK, part of that is because we had just spent a couple of hours at an apple orchard and since he was wearing pull-ups none of us thought to have him use the bathroom. But it was still just plain amusing for him to have an accident then.

Compare and Contrast

I need to do some research and review my blog entries from last time. Some things I remember very clearly. I know I had the greasy hair at the roots issue. It drove me nuts. Stupid hormones. Well, it happened again this time and I took action. I cut it all off! Yay for short hair! It’s been since like 9th or 10th grade that I’ve had it this short. I’m 90% used to it now and I’m having fun with accessories.

Stomach holding: Oh wow. I didn’t think about this one but I’m totally doing it already and have been for quite a while.

Weakness: Yep. That’s back. Several weeks ago, Mr. b caught me taking a break from cutting up a watermelon by sitting on the floor and freaked out. I didn’t want to give up in the middle of the project but I just couldn’t stand anymore and figured that wasn’t safe considering the fact I was using a sharp chef’s knife.

Weird nipples: Mr. b called me on that one. Naturally. I remember being a little kid and seeing naked woman boobs at campground showers or wherever and being freaked out about their giant nipples. Some of it was just size perspective, like the house you grew up in seeming smaller if you go back there as an adult. But thinking back on it I have to wonder if there wasn’t some pregnancy and/or breast feeding going on as well.

Lost weight: Five pounds. That is exactly the same amount for the first trimester of both pregnancies.

Fetal movement: Here’s a difference. Apparently it wasn’t until week 16 last time. I know for a fact I’ve been feeling it for several weeks already this time. And I’m not at 16 weeks until Sunday. I know that you feel it earlier for your subsequent pregnancies than you do for your first. But I’m pretty sure that’s still sooner than typical for most women.

Showing: I guess that’s about the same timing, maybe a week earlier this time. It really became evident to me earlier this week. And not just while naked. Some of my clothes still disguise my belly but anything even slightly tightish and you can really see that either I have a major beer gut or else there’s a parasite growing in there.

Taste buds: Interesting. I didn’t remember my distaste for Chinese food last time. Currently I’m having issues with breakfast. All the foods that I normally love (OK cereal mainly, both cold and hot) just don’t sound good to me at all in the morning. And don’t really taste that good to me either. I need to figure out what I do want to eat, and soon, because I need to eat first thing in the morning, pregnant or not.

Well, I’ll stop my review there for now. I don’t want to get too far ahead of where I’m actually at. I do wonder how long I continued wearing regular clothes before switching over to maternity. I’m planning to pull the ‘ternity stuff I saved out of storage this weekend and take inventory. My shirts are just becoming noticeably short and even though my pants still fit, I think it’s time to start integrating some of those items into my closet.

What to Watch

We are a TV family. Oh sure, you can feel superior about not even owning a television set. I don’t care. I think that makes you a freak. I like having the TV on as background noise. I’ve always been that way. I can remember my dad getting on my case when I was a kid, incredulous that I could actually be focusing on my homework while sitting in front on the TV. But frankly, it blocked out the noise and helped me concentrate!

Since I don’t want to have anything on that will be upsetting for Kirk, I’ve settled on “safety channels” that are somewhat different than my previous ones. Sure, he’s got his own shows on PBS or Disney or Nickelodeon but there are only so many of those that I can handle. The Food Network ends up on a lot. I can guarantee there won’t be anything scary or harsh on there. The same can’t be said of other seemingly family friendly cable networks. History? You’ll end up with some massacre or Holocaust show. TLC? Inevitably it’ll be a disgusting surgery show. Discovery? Weapons and warfare. You just can’t win!

It’s not like Kirk actually actively watches TV for hours and hours at a time. Like I said, background noise. Even if he’s picked out something of his own to have on – currently the winner is the Buzz Lightyear of Star Command movie – he often just wanders away. He’ll play toys on the ottoman or jump around on the furniture without actually paying attention to what’s on the screen. Or he’ll be over at the fridge, arranging his magnets. Or he’ll just leave the room entirely and play toys in his bedroom. At which point I’ll attempt to switch over to something I’d rather listen to, like whatever showbiz gossip show is on while I’m making dinner.

When it comes to appointment television there are very few of my shows that I’m fine with Kirk seeing. Sarah Connor Chronicles, Heroes, Lost, 24, they’re all just plain way too violent. And I need to pay full attention to what’s going on! But we’ve come to the conclusion that Doctor Who is usually fine. It’s not gory, the bad guys are obvious, and the Doctor always saves the day. It’s billed as kid’s programming in the UK anyway. Actually, I think most science fiction is fine for him. OK, not Battlestar Galactica. Obviously. But Stargate? Star Trek? Star Wars? No problem. And one of his favorites these days is Futurama.

But I’m also not blind to the fact that just because something is made in the medium of animation means that it’s safe for children to view. That’s a facile American simplification that ignores that the art form has grown beyond its initial use in serials and Saturday morning cartoons. The Simpsons he can watch. Family Guy and South Park? No fucking way. And he knows it. If we don’t turn the channel fast enough he’ll point and announce that, “It’s the naughty show!”

Kirk is very understanding about the fact that there is just some stuff that he can’t watch. We’ll flip the channel whenever a horror movie ad comes on (because the politicians so concerned about having ratings on television programs apparently don’t care what sort of scarring commercials are shown during those family friendly hours) and just tell him that it’s too scary. He’ll find the cases to something we were watching, like Mr. b had Cheech and Chong out the other day, and tell us all about how that movie is too naughty for him to watch but he can see it when he gets bigger. He even asked me a couple of weeks ago if he was big enough for naughty movies. I explained he has to put all of his poops and pees in the potty. I’ll have to come up with a different excuse as soon as he’s got that mastered.

Developments

I’m pretty sure I’m feeling fetal movement now, and not just uterus stuff. It’s still pretty vague and it’s definitely early yet, but a pattern is emerging so that’s why I think it’s Child Person Mark II. Typically in the late evening is when I can feel it and then it’ll last for maybe up to an hour. I’ll have to go back over my early posts to see where I was with Kirk when I first started feeling him. I know it was early for a first timer so I guess it wouldn’t surprise me if I’m noticing it early again now.

Mr. b has gone back to school. We’re still getting used to his new schedule and it’ll change again next semester. The biggest difference for me is that I’m doing the daycare drop off and pick up now. I’ve been taking the bus for so long I need to get used to the new timing. And I won’t be able to read as much. So far Kirk’s been really good about his daddy leaving at night to go to class. In the past he has pitched a fit when Mr. b leaves for band practice but he’s been very understanding about school. I don’t know what it’ll be like when I have a new infant to also deal with in the evenings but so far Kirk and I are keeping ourselves busy. We go on walks or do laundry or yardwork and then start the nigh-nigh routine. We can’t run errands though since Mr. b has the car. That’s going to also take some advance planning to adjust.

I spanked Kirk this morning. I know everyone’s got strong feelings on spanking but frankly, it’s been a long time coming. We’ve been threatening it for several weeks now as counting to three only works sometimes and taking away his toys or blankie only works sometimes and turning off his movies only works sometimes and putting him in time out only works sometimes. He’s a little brat and I was done. I was trying to get him dressed and he was actively fighting me, stepping on his diaper so I couldn’t get it up his legs, and punching and headbutting all the while. So I swatted him on the butt. It certainly wasn’t hard but it was enough to make him pay attention and he cooperated for the rest of the getting ready and was sweet to me at daycare drop off. We’ll see how long it lasts. I should have known I’d be the first to go there. We were just discussing how spoiled he is the other day, too. Some of that is generational of course and some is that we need to step it up. When Kirk doesn’t follow the rules we have been giving him choices: you can go to your room with the door closed or you can sit at the dinner table with us. I gave him two choices this morning: we could use teamwork to get his outfit on or I could hold him against his will and do it myself. That should have been his tip-off that Mama wasn’t gonna play games. And maybe it will be next time he decides to be a jerk instead of “I wanna be good and listen”.

We’re both feeling the need to nest already. It’s not the same as the end of term nesting but it’s real nevertheless. Mr. b cleared a ton of shit out of the basement last week and while it’s all just sitting in the garage now it’s making it easier to see what exactly needs to be done for cleaning and organizing purposes. I’m also desperate for craft projects. I have ideas for everything from framing prints to knitting to embroidery to rug making but I haven’t actually started any of them. What I need to do is make a pattern for my Halloween costume and go to the fabric store. I’m not sure if the DIY impulse is pregnancy related or seasonal. I do typically get a burst of creative energy in the fall.

Kirk has a new trick up his sleeve when it comes to delaying sleep after being put to bed. The interesting thing is that he does not get out of his bed at night – or even in the morning. He’ll sit up and play with Woody and Buzz and talk to himself or shout for us but he won’t actually leave until one of us opens his door. Which has been nice because we were warned up and down that the second he switched from his crib to his big boy bed that he’d be bugging us constantly. However, with the organization trend in the house, we put a short bookcase in his room near his bed and moved his toy stove over to the other side. He dragged the plastic kitchenette back to by his bed, placing it in front of the bookshelf. So now he can reach out and haul the entire thing right next to him and get at the toys that are stored within. Scammer. Smart little bugger! I don’t really care though. He fought going to bed last night with a declaration that he wanted to “stay up all night!” I told him he was welcome to do so: in his room, with the door shut, and the lights off. He was asleep within 20 minutes.

What's in a name?

Kirk has declared it: he is to be called Buzz. As in Buzz Lightyear. From the Toy Story movies. He’s been referring to himself as Buzz and his daddy as Woody for quite some time now but I’ve finally been added to the mix. I am Jessie. We suspected that his daycare buddy was Woody in his father’s absence but K says that the other day he instead declared himself Mermaid Man, the weird Adam West type superhero from Spongebob. Apparently Buzz and Mermaid Man got in a fight over a rocket and Buzz came home with some nice scratches on his cheek.

Kirk is ridiculously excited about his choice of Halloween costume this year: Buzz Lightyear. We haven’t actually purchased it yet because c’mon, it’s still September. But apparently he asked yesterday if he could go to the Red Grocery store just to look at it! I think we’ll have to cave and buy it this weekend. I have no problems with him getting some use out of it before trick-or-treating.

In other news, tomorrow is our 11th anniversary. To celebrate, we are completely overscheduled and will not be able to spend any alone time together. Yay?

Nap Time!

If we ever required proof that Kirk still needs a nap, we got it this weekend.

I often wonder at what age kids typically start either taking shorter naps or dispense with them altogether. Presumably they then have an earlier bedtime to make up some of the difference. But it’s always been a mystery to me when that begins. Oh I know, all kids are different. But even so there are some generalities that can typically be found.

We were all invited over to the neighbors’ house on Saturday for their son’s 5th birthday. While chatting with an alley neighbor, the mother of another 5 year old, I learned that her son still needs a nap and takes one at school everyday. That made me feel a lot better. At least I know that we’ve got some time before we have to wean Kirk off them altogether. And lord knows I love napping with him – or at least at the same time as him, depending on how squirrelly his is.

The birthday party was scheduled to start at about the time that we would normally put Kirk down. But since it was only two houses over we figured we’d just bring him home when he started to show signs of needing to go. Yet that’s the thing. Lately Kirk hasn’t shown the typical tiredness signs. He just suddenly snaps and then it’s a screaming fit of crazy insanity. And that’s exactly what happened, for all the party guests to see. He was playing as-nicely-as-can-be-expected-these-days with the other kids for a couple of hours and then as soon as we wouldn’t let him have a second piece of birthday cake, it was all over. Completely madness.

Of course his diet that day may have contributed. We won’t be winning any parenting awards. Breakfast: Coco Puffs; lunch: one bite of bun, birthday cake, ice cream; dinner: peanuts, fruit & cereal bar. Yeah, we rule.

What's my Tell?

I went out to lunch with a colleague last week. After learning that I’m preggers, he claimed that he could “tell”. He said it was something about my face. Huh? Then again, I remember Mr. b saying something similar about a customer a year or so ago. So maybe it’s a guy thing? Or maybe it’s the so-called “glowing” that I just can’t see in myself?

No matter what, as soon as I tell someone that I’m knocked up they glance down at my belly. Do they think it’s going to be magically huge and they just hadn’t noticed? I guess it must be a reflex of some sort. My other theory is that it’s because I work with guys now. When I was pregnant with Kirk, I worked in a very small group of all women and one guy. Now I work in a considerably larger group and I’m one of only three females. So the vibe is definitely different. I guess I’ll end up coming out to the majority of them that still don’t know later this week when we go out for drinks with a former co-worker. Or rather, I’ll join them at the bar and have a Coke. Ooh, maybe instead of bringing the baby in to show off while I’m on maternity leave, I could demand that they all take me out and buy me drinks some night!

Weekend Labor

Mr. b was in Washington DC the whole long weekend. We didn’t get to go in July (original plan was to leave the reunion early and spend a couple days there) and I told him he could go for his birthday. He didn’t believe me. But then, after discovering low airfares and cheap hotel rates due to being the weekend in between the DNC and RNC, well, he was off!

So Kirk and I needed to make sure we stayed busy in his absence. I get burned out on full-time single parenting anyway and I figured it would be even worse with the first trimester effects still showing up on occasion. Though thankfully not as often as I move closer and closer to that magical second trimester line. I arranged to go over to my brother’s house Saturday afternoon and to my friend’s house Sunday afternoon. Then my sister needed some hemming done and came over with the girls Saturday morning. So we were just the right amount busy and had lots of fun and Kirk got plenty of attention and playtime with his cousins and friend. I didn’t have anything planned out for Monday, thinking we would just do some shopping. We went to the wading pool before lunch and hit the grocery store post naps.

That night, about two hours after putting Kirk to bed, I heard a horrible coughing fit. Poor buddy, he must be getting a cold. So as I was getting ready for bed I peeked in on him. Something wasn’t right. I quietly snuck over to his bed and the smell hit me. He had thrown up! He was laying on his back, sort of in a daze, not exactly asleep, with piles and piles of red noodles all over him (watermelon and chicken noodle-O’s soup) and covering his pillow and his blankie and his sheets. It was horrifying and I felt awful that I had waited the 10 minutes or so before checking on him. I peeled his jammies off him and started gathering up the mess. I stripped his entire bed and we threw the first of many loads into the washing machine right away. But he wasn’t done. His stomach wasn’t empty yet. And I had let him have a little drink of water so up that came. He threw up three more times throughout the night. I had a puke bucket for him to use but he didn’t always make it in.

Obviously we stayed home on Tuesday. I wasn’t going to make the mistake of letting him have regular food or beverages too soon and kept him on water-with-a-splash-of-juice for a couple of hours in the morning. He even kept down two saltines. But then at about 11 he threw it all up again. Thankfully on the floor and not the freshly washed bedding. He started perking up a bit after a nap and he was keeping crackers down and drinking Gatorade at that point. He was fine yesterday.

But what caused it in the first place? I honestly have no idea. He definitely drank heavily chlorinated pool water but that was quite a long time earlier in the day. And he didn’t have any problem packing away his entire lunch. Could it have been food poisoning at dinner? I had some of the same soup but not much. After feeling pretty good all weekend I was hit with a major bout of preggo at the dinner table and spent the entire meal with my head on my arms, moaning to myself between spooning soup up for the boy. We both had watermelon. Was the coughing fit I heard the result of throwing up or the cause of it? I know that A2 has a tendency to puke when she coughs too hard and then she’ll be set off for a good ten to twenty hours of repeated puking if she tries to eat or drink too much. I sure hope that Kirk hasn’t manifested a similar trait. But for the moment, all is back to normal. Mr. b is safely returned. And all the sheets in the house are clean.