So I had about a billion ideas for posts that I was going to make this weekend after the kids went to bed and before I curled up on my Snoogle for a pregnant night's sleep, but they never materialized.
Why?
Scott was out of town.
Most people who know me understand those words and sympathize with me the instant they see them. You see, when Scott is out of town, the Bermuda Triangle of Weirdness descends upon our house. It never fails. This happened even before we had kids -- I'd come home from work to find an appliance broken or that the dogs had gotten into the garage and shredded a crazy amount of paper all over the yard or who knows what.
The strange events did very definitely take a turn for the worse once kids came into the picture. One of them would get sick or I'd be invaded by rodents or something insane would happen.
This time? I got sick. Well, sicker. I came down with the cold the short people had on Tuesday, stayed home from work all day Wednesday and felt much better on Thursday, though I was still producing enough snot that if I were a snot miner, I'd have hit the mother lode. All in all, it was a pretty typical cold.
Until Friday.
About the time that Scott was headed out of town, my left sinus started to ache. By the time I picked the kids up from school, the ache had become a throb. By the time I got the kids fed dinner, the throb had become a vise. By the time I got the kids to bed, the vise had tightened down so far that I felt as if something roughly the size of a football was wedged in my face.
I was blinded by the pain -- and Tylenol (a pregnant woman's only pain reliever) wasn't touching it. I tried my neti pot and discovered that I was so congested the rinse wouldn't even go into that sinus. I gagged and spluttered as I spit it out, frustrated that nothing was helping.
After some welcome assistance from Scott's mom, who watched the kiddos when I went to the doctor, I managed to get a script for antibiotics. Which I began taking immediately.
Since you cannot take crazy high-powered antibiotics while pregnant, the third-string Amoxicillin was pretty much our option. So, no instant relief like I might get after the first dose of a Z-Pack. Nope, I was near tears all day Sunday and ready to melt into bed when Scott finally made it home last night.
I don't know if just having him in the house was enough for me to relax and actually sleep last night or if my poor body decided that it was going to pass out cold from exhaustion (the pain had kept me awake much of Friday and Saturday nights), but I slept HARD last night, getting up only once to use the bathroom and take another dose of Tylenol. I didn't even feel the normal pregnancy-related sleep discomforts, if my hips hurt last night, I didn't notice.
And this morning?
I woke up and blew a copious wad of fluorescent green booger out of my left sinus and feel merely sick, not feral with pain.
Of course, I also woke up to a sneezing hubby...
Monday, January 31, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
The Ten Commandments of Pregnancy
I'm old. Really, I am. I'm old to be the mom of such young kids, and I'm OK with that. I'm pretty sure that it is written in purple and red ink in my file at the OB "Advanced Maternal Age." I'm a geriatric pregnancy, but I wouldn't really have it any other way.
Why am I commenting on this?
Because in some of my spare time on the weekends I stop by a couple of pregnancy message boards online and find myself shaking my head like a stuffy old librarian shusshing some giggling teenage patrons.
Never in my life would I try to pass myself off as a pregnancy or parenting expert -- I'm certainly not that. But, most of the time, I do feel like I got my fair share of common sense.
So, inspired by message board insanity, here are my commandments for pregnant women, written by an old-as-Moses mama:
1. While your pregnancy might consume your every waking (and sleeping) thought, it isn't going to be the most important thing to everyone you know. Please do not feel hurt because people in the grocery store didn't bow to your fertility and hand you the case of Diet Mt. Dew from the bottom shelf.
2. No one else will remember what you can and cannot eat. It is not appropriate to throw a fit because your brother-in-law had a cookout and served hot dogs. You might have to quietly fill up on potato salad and baked beans instead.
3. If you are a first-time mom, you will get lots of advice. Some of it will be great, some of it will be ludicrous, but you should smile, nod, and say, "Thank you! I'll keep that in mind" no matter how looney the advice is. It shows the advice-giver that you are listening and appreciate that they have thought of you at all, when it could so easily be the case that they wouldn't.
4. Every pregnant woman is tired and uncomfortable. Some more than others, but most of the symptoms most pregnant women have are totally normal. Getting into a "my symptoms are worse than yours" duel only shows that neither of you really feel that badly -- the ones who are so sick they can't complain get my sympathy.
5. If you say you're feeling "more uncomfortable" than you've "felt in my whole life" at 24 weeks pregnant, I just *might* think you're a bit of a weenie. You've still got 16 weeks to go, sweetie... and baby ain't gonna get smaller...
6. Your husband/spouse/co-parent is a human. And your friend and life partner. Please keep that in mind. Yeah, you may not be able to control your every emotion, but think before you speak and breathe before you think. You'll both be happier if you do.
7. Along those same lines, don't expect him/her to be able to read your mind. And then get mad at them for not doing it well. Talk about unfair expectations...
8. Your husband/spouse/co-parent absolutely does get a say in how you raise your child, unless he/she is unfit (and then I question why you're having a child with him/her). One parent does something one way, the other parent does it a different way. Does it really matter which way is "right" if both ways result in a healthy kid or completed task? Yeah, Scott unloads the dishwasher and I have to play "find the hidden measuring cup" the next time I cook, but he just unloaded the dishwasher so that I didn't have to -- how could that possible be a bad thing?
9. If you know you're going to get pouty when someone doesn't love the baby name you've been saving since you were 12, don't share it until your baby has arrived and been named Princessa le Pinque or whatever. It's much harder for people to make comments on a name once it is attached to a baby. On the other hand, if you pick a name that is out there (like it is orbiting Pluto), you know not everyone is going to like it. Toughen up and name your kid something you love and tell the rest of the solar system to take a hike.
10. Even if you are miserable, please remember to enjoy something about your pregnancy every day. You don't have to dwell on it, but take the time to think, "I am so glad to be carrying a healthy baby" each day. There are too many people who know the pain of loss, there are too many people who know the pain of infertility, there are too many people who know the pain of disability for you to not care and to wish your pregnancy done so that you can lose the baby weight, have a drink, or whatever.
Experienced mamas out there -- do you have anything to add to the list?
Why am I commenting on this?
Because in some of my spare time on the weekends I stop by a couple of pregnancy message boards online and find myself shaking my head like a stuffy old librarian shusshing some giggling teenage patrons.
Never in my life would I try to pass myself off as a pregnancy or parenting expert -- I'm certainly not that. But, most of the time, I do feel like I got my fair share of common sense.
So, inspired by message board insanity, here are my commandments for pregnant women, written by an old-as-Moses mama:
1. While your pregnancy might consume your every waking (and sleeping) thought, it isn't going to be the most important thing to everyone you know. Please do not feel hurt because people in the grocery store didn't bow to your fertility and hand you the case of Diet Mt. Dew from the bottom shelf.
2. No one else will remember what you can and cannot eat. It is not appropriate to throw a fit because your brother-in-law had a cookout and served hot dogs. You might have to quietly fill up on potato salad and baked beans instead.
3. If you are a first-time mom, you will get lots of advice. Some of it will be great, some of it will be ludicrous, but you should smile, nod, and say, "Thank you! I'll keep that in mind" no matter how looney the advice is. It shows the advice-giver that you are listening and appreciate that they have thought of you at all, when it could so easily be the case that they wouldn't.
4. Every pregnant woman is tired and uncomfortable. Some more than others, but most of the symptoms most pregnant women have are totally normal. Getting into a "my symptoms are worse than yours" duel only shows that neither of you really feel that badly -- the ones who are so sick they can't complain get my sympathy.
5. If you say you're feeling "more uncomfortable" than you've "felt in my whole life" at 24 weeks pregnant, I just *might* think you're a bit of a weenie. You've still got 16 weeks to go, sweetie... and baby ain't gonna get smaller...
6. Your husband/spouse/co-parent is a human. And your friend and life partner. Please keep that in mind. Yeah, you may not be able to control your every emotion, but think before you speak and breathe before you think. You'll both be happier if you do.
7. Along those same lines, don't expect him/her to be able to read your mind. And then get mad at them for not doing it well. Talk about unfair expectations...
8. Your husband/spouse/co-parent absolutely does get a say in how you raise your child, unless he/she is unfit (and then I question why you're having a child with him/her). One parent does something one way, the other parent does it a different way. Does it really matter which way is "right" if both ways result in a healthy kid or completed task? Yeah, Scott unloads the dishwasher and I have to play "find the hidden measuring cup" the next time I cook, but he just unloaded the dishwasher so that I didn't have to -- how could that possible be a bad thing?
9. If you know you're going to get pouty when someone doesn't love the baby name you've been saving since you were 12, don't share it until your baby has arrived and been named Princessa le Pinque or whatever. It's much harder for people to make comments on a name once it is attached to a baby. On the other hand, if you pick a name that is out there (like it is orbiting Pluto), you know not everyone is going to like it. Toughen up and name your kid something you love and tell the rest of the solar system to take a hike.
10. Even if you are miserable, please remember to enjoy something about your pregnancy every day. You don't have to dwell on it, but take the time to think, "I am so glad to be carrying a healthy baby" each day. There are too many people who know the pain of loss, there are too many people who know the pain of infertility, there are too many people who know the pain of disability for you to not care and to wish your pregnancy done so that you can lose the baby weight, have a drink, or whatever.
Experienced mamas out there -- do you have anything to add to the list?
Thursday, January 20, 2011
24 weeks and 3 days
That's how far along the twins and I are. They are both doing beautifully -- decided to be very active when doc was trying to find their heart rates this morning, kicking the Doppler and making us all laugh.
The stats for this week's appointment: mama has gained about 3 pounds in two weeks. That's the way it should be with twins -- about a pound and a half a week, so yay for finally gaining! I'm up a whopping 8 pounds from my start weight, so my belly is getting larger and my pants are still falling off. Said belly is measuring 33 weeks, so 9-ish weeks ahead. BP was lovely -- 122/68 and my urine dip was fine, too.
Next appointment, I have the glucose tolerance test, an ultrasound, and an OB appointment all in about 1 1/2 hours. We hope. Otherwise there will be some very confused little boys standing outside the school when we fail to pick them up on time.
We've been doing some window shopping, too, for gear for the babies (and some for me). I'd really like to get a new breastfeeding pillow -- My Breast Friend makes one designed for twins, but first up will be a Snoogle pillow as my poor hips are screaming at me every night, no matter what I do and, though I am toting an almost-done belly, I'm not really almost done. There are still 13ish weeks left and that's a pretty long time to sleep like poo, if you ask me.
For the twins, we're looking at this stuff:
Bouncy seats -- we had one for Milo and Violet, but a nephew who weighed about three times the weight limit sort of sat on it when it was at Grandma and Grandpa's for a baby cousin to use and the result is that it's pretty much flattened. So we're in the market for a couple of new bouncy seats. I don't know that they have to match -- might be more fun if they each have different bells and whistles.
High chairs -- we have a nice big one on wheels that we used for both Milo and Violet, but were eyeballing a couple of high chairs that strap to existing chairs, simply because they would take up less room. And, two of them is about the price of a big rolly one, anyway. Plus, they convert to boosters, so we wouldn't need buy upgrades for when the girls get bigger.
Jumparoo -- we skipped this one when our kids were little since there was one at daycare, but the twins will be spending half of the time at daycare, at least compared to Milo and Violet, and I'll want to have options to keep two of them entertained, so I think I'd like to add a Jumparoo to our inventory.
We're debating a couple of other things for now, but I'm drawing a blank about what (for now). Maybe I'll remember tomorrow. Then again, maybe I won't -- I did show up on Wednesday for a prenatal appointment that was actually scheduled for Thursday. D'oh!
The stats for this week's appointment: mama has gained about 3 pounds in two weeks. That's the way it should be with twins -- about a pound and a half a week, so yay for finally gaining! I'm up a whopping 8 pounds from my start weight, so my belly is getting larger and my pants are still falling off. Said belly is measuring 33 weeks, so 9-ish weeks ahead. BP was lovely -- 122/68 and my urine dip was fine, too.
Next appointment, I have the glucose tolerance test, an ultrasound, and an OB appointment all in about 1 1/2 hours. We hope. Otherwise there will be some very confused little boys standing outside the school when we fail to pick them up on time.
We've been doing some window shopping, too, for gear for the babies (and some for me). I'd really like to get a new breastfeeding pillow -- My Breast Friend makes one designed for twins, but first up will be a Snoogle pillow as my poor hips are screaming at me every night, no matter what I do and, though I am toting an almost-done belly, I'm not really almost done. There are still 13ish weeks left and that's a pretty long time to sleep like poo, if you ask me.
For the twins, we're looking at this stuff:
Bouncy seats -- we had one for Milo and Violet, but a nephew who weighed about three times the weight limit sort of sat on it when it was at Grandma and Grandpa's for a baby cousin to use and the result is that it's pretty much flattened. So we're in the market for a couple of new bouncy seats. I don't know that they have to match -- might be more fun if they each have different bells and whistles.
High chairs -- we have a nice big one on wheels that we used for both Milo and Violet, but were eyeballing a couple of high chairs that strap to existing chairs, simply because they would take up less room. And, two of them is about the price of a big rolly one, anyway. Plus, they convert to boosters, so we wouldn't need buy upgrades for when the girls get bigger.
Jumparoo -- we skipped this one when our kids were little since there was one at daycare, but the twins will be spending half of the time at daycare, at least compared to Milo and Violet, and I'll want to have options to keep two of them entertained, so I think I'd like to add a Jumparoo to our inventory.
We're debating a couple of other things for now, but I'm drawing a blank about what (for now). Maybe I'll remember tomorrow. Then again, maybe I won't -- I did show up on Wednesday for a prenatal appointment that was actually scheduled for Thursday. D'oh!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Minivan Nation
So, how does a family with a surprise fourth on the way handle transportation?
Well, by buying a fourth vehicle.
Oh, just as we were planning on three kids, we were planning on three vehicles: a kid-hauler, a car for Scott, and a weekend-project truck. And we still have all of that, plus a 2001 yellow Saturn SC2 with 144,000 miles and needing a clutch. Why? because the trade in value was next to nothing on it and we thought that we might be able to sell it for something on Craigslist. Seriously -- there's gotta be some U of I student wanting to drive around a bitchin' yellow coupe with a Homer Simpson decal on it, right?
Oh, yeah -- this means we're joining the minivan nation. Our purchase was a 2010 Kia Sedona with 30 miles on it. The most brand-new car we could afford right now. It has few bells and whistles, but we don't really need those things -- we need a vehicle that can hold four kids in four car seats for the next five years or so. Once all of the kids are in school, we'll junk my Jetta and I'll hand down the Kia to Scott for a more luxurious model of minivan-ness. Like a Toyota Sienna or Honda Odyssey. But for right now, a shiny black Kia it is.
Our intention was to check out the selection at the local Kia dealer, but they were offering a $2500 Kia rebate, doubled by the dealer, plus 1/2 off the extended 10 year or 100,000 mile warranty. So we ended up buying. Our salesman didn't tell us, but the sales manager did, but we were his first sale ever. And we were so easy -- all he had to do was get the payment where we wanted it and we were going to sign. We need the space,plain and simple.
It was funny, though, when he brought back the first financing option with a 10% apr. I looked at it and said, "You haven't run this with our real credit scores, have you?"
When he did, it came back with a 3.69% apr. Much better.
So far, the kids love it because the windows are tinted (no more squinting because of the sun) and they are both sitting up higher, so they can see more. Neither is too thrilled about sitting in the third row, but, as the "big kids," they're gonna have to do it. We might have to get them a walkie-talkie to keep back there so we can hear them, though, LOL! For some reason, the voices that seem so loud when you're trying to be quiet are barely audible in a car. Why is that?
So now we've got a minivan, two infant car seats, and a bunch of cloth diapers and covers. And I just ordered 40 pounds of Rockin' Green detergent to get them prepped. Next up: I really have to start sewing the crib bedding I've partially cut. And then we'll need to figure out what to do with the futon so that we can get to painting in the nursery. Oh, yeah -- I'll need to buy the paint. And a lamp. And a mirror (I like mirrors in all bedrooms). And Scott will have to bring down all of the baby clothes from the attic so I can start washing and sorting and hanging. So more baby hangers, too. And I need new breast pump tubes as mine are all gunky.
Oh, yeah -- I'll also need to be pregnant for another 14 weeks... Can't forget that part!
Well, by buying a fourth vehicle.
Oh, just as we were planning on three kids, we were planning on three vehicles: a kid-hauler, a car for Scott, and a weekend-project truck. And we still have all of that, plus a 2001 yellow Saturn SC2 with 144,000 miles and needing a clutch. Why? because the trade in value was next to nothing on it and we thought that we might be able to sell it for something on Craigslist. Seriously -- there's gotta be some U of I student wanting to drive around a bitchin' yellow coupe with a Homer Simpson decal on it, right?
Oh, yeah -- this means we're joining the minivan nation. Our purchase was a 2010 Kia Sedona with 30 miles on it. The most brand-new car we could afford right now. It has few bells and whistles, but we don't really need those things -- we need a vehicle that can hold four kids in four car seats for the next five years or so. Once all of the kids are in school, we'll junk my Jetta and I'll hand down the Kia to Scott for a more luxurious model of minivan-ness. Like a Toyota Sienna or Honda Odyssey. But for right now, a shiny black Kia it is.
Our intention was to check out the selection at the local Kia dealer, but they were offering a $2500 Kia rebate, doubled by the dealer, plus 1/2 off the extended 10 year or 100,000 mile warranty. So we ended up buying. Our salesman didn't tell us, but the sales manager did, but we were his first sale ever. And we were so easy -- all he had to do was get the payment where we wanted it and we were going to sign. We need the space,plain and simple.
It was funny, though, when he brought back the first financing option with a 10% apr. I looked at it and said, "You haven't run this with our real credit scores, have you?"
When he did, it came back with a 3.69% apr. Much better.
So far, the kids love it because the windows are tinted (no more squinting because of the sun) and they are both sitting up higher, so they can see more. Neither is too thrilled about sitting in the third row, but, as the "big kids," they're gonna have to do it. We might have to get them a walkie-talkie to keep back there so we can hear them, though, LOL! For some reason, the voices that seem so loud when you're trying to be quiet are barely audible in a car. Why is that?
So now we've got a minivan, two infant car seats, and a bunch of cloth diapers and covers. And I just ordered 40 pounds of Rockin' Green detergent to get them prepped. Next up: I really have to start sewing the crib bedding I've partially cut. And then we'll need to figure out what to do with the futon so that we can get to painting in the nursery. Oh, yeah -- I'll need to buy the paint. And a lamp. And a mirror (I like mirrors in all bedrooms). And Scott will have to bring down all of the baby clothes from the attic so I can start washing and sorting and hanging. So more baby hangers, too. And I need new breast pump tubes as mine are all gunky.
Oh, yeah -- I'll also need to be pregnant for another 14 weeks... Can't forget that part!
Friday, January 14, 2011
Lemons
I love being pregnant. Really, I do.
Mostly.
But I have to admit that this time is different. I am still completely wiped -- I feel like someone sucked all of my energy like I was a sour wedge of lemon before a shot of tequila and now I'm sitting here all rind and pulp and missing my juice.
I think I was completely spoiled having the 22nd - 3rd off for winter break. I spent far more time in my jammies than I did in clothing and far more time on the couch, snuggling and playing with blonde cuties than working. And I loved it. And, other than the totally annoying cough, I felt great.
And now I'm back to the harsh reality of working full-time and raising kids. Thank goodness that Scott's done with work-week evenings for a while. At the end of the month, he's done with working weekends for a while, too. And I can't wait.
Last night, I found myself crawling into bed, aching absolutely everywhere, sore hips, sore back, sore pelvis, sore everything. And I couldn't get comfortable. And my poor, snuggly missing-his-family-because-he's-been-working-too-hard hubby simply draped his arm over my hip to cuddle me as he drifted off to sleep.
And I nearly cried. Because the weight of that arm felt like just too much. After working all day and going out to dinner with his parents last night, I just couldn't bear the weight of something else on my worn out body. But I adore him and surely didn't want to hurt his feelings since I know he would have felt bad for making me feel worse and felt bad because of hurt feelings. So I waited until he was asleep and shimmied out from underneath his arm.
I hate feeling like a whiner, especially since I know that this will be my last pregnancy, these babies my final ones and that makes every little kick and poke precious to me -- I'll never again get to feel life growing inside me. I am sentimental and a bit wistful about that. As I'm typing this paragraph, Baby B is kicking the desk where my belly rests and I love it.
But good gravy, it's getting cramped in there and I still have 14.5 weeks left. I'm already measuring 11 weeks ahead and that's before the babies start packing on the ounces in that third trimester. I have no idea what I'll be able to wear at the end, nor how one can even walk when that big.
I am repeatedly grateful that, aside from general exhaustion and discomfort, I am a healthy mom. I don't barf endlessly, nor do I swell up like a water balloon. My complaints are small and I know it. But on days like today, I am just so unbelievably tired I can't stand it. And thinking about my bed gives my hips phantom pain, so while napping sounds mega-appealing, I haven't a clue how to do it comfortably right now.
So, anyway, before you take that shot of tequila, please check to make sure I'm not the lemon you're squeezing -- I'd like to keep what's left of my juice for the upcoming stretch, please?
Mostly.
But I have to admit that this time is different. I am still completely wiped -- I feel like someone sucked all of my energy like I was a sour wedge of lemon before a shot of tequila and now I'm sitting here all rind and pulp and missing my juice.
I think I was completely spoiled having the 22nd - 3rd off for winter break. I spent far more time in my jammies than I did in clothing and far more time on the couch, snuggling and playing with blonde cuties than working. And I loved it. And, other than the totally annoying cough, I felt great.
And now I'm back to the harsh reality of working full-time and raising kids. Thank goodness that Scott's done with work-week evenings for a while. At the end of the month, he's done with working weekends for a while, too. And I can't wait.
Last night, I found myself crawling into bed, aching absolutely everywhere, sore hips, sore back, sore pelvis, sore everything. And I couldn't get comfortable. And my poor, snuggly missing-his-family-because-he's-been-working-too-hard hubby simply draped his arm over my hip to cuddle me as he drifted off to sleep.
And I nearly cried. Because the weight of that arm felt like just too much. After working all day and going out to dinner with his parents last night, I just couldn't bear the weight of something else on my worn out body. But I adore him and surely didn't want to hurt his feelings since I know he would have felt bad for making me feel worse and felt bad because of hurt feelings. So I waited until he was asleep and shimmied out from underneath his arm.
I hate feeling like a whiner, especially since I know that this will be my last pregnancy, these babies my final ones and that makes every little kick and poke precious to me -- I'll never again get to feel life growing inside me. I am sentimental and a bit wistful about that. As I'm typing this paragraph, Baby B is kicking the desk where my belly rests and I love it.
But good gravy, it's getting cramped in there and I still have 14.5 weeks left. I'm already measuring 11 weeks ahead and that's before the babies start packing on the ounces in that third trimester. I have no idea what I'll be able to wear at the end, nor how one can even walk when that big.
I am repeatedly grateful that, aside from general exhaustion and discomfort, I am a healthy mom. I don't barf endlessly, nor do I swell up like a water balloon. My complaints are small and I know it. But on days like today, I am just so unbelievably tired I can't stand it. And thinking about my bed gives my hips phantom pain, so while napping sounds mega-appealing, I haven't a clue how to do it comfortably right now.
So, anyway, before you take that shot of tequila, please check to make sure I'm not the lemon you're squeezing -- I'd like to keep what's left of my juice for the upcoming stretch, please?
Monday, January 10, 2011
My Little Girly-Girl
My funny daughter is going through a very girly stage right now. It totally cracks me up! I am so NOT a girly-girl. Yeah, I like to wear nice clothes and make-up, but my top speed from stepping in the shower to out the door can be fifteen minutes if it has to be. I also like power tools and think Salma Hayek is hot.
I don't do nail polish. I've never had a pedicure. I don't like to spend hours on the phone, never have. I detest chick flicks and consider them a waste of time. I'm not big on cut flowers as a gift -- I'd rather have something I could eat or use. I prefer online shopping to real-life shopping. And I get my hair cut once a year or so.
But along comes my daughter. When she hit the ripe old age of two and received clothes and shoes for birthday gifts and was THRILLED. She has very definite opinions on which boots/shoes she wears with which outfits. She also has a shoe-addicted grandma who enables her growing collection. She brings me the phone regularly to call someone, anyone who will listen to her babble about what she's doing.
Recently, she has finally decided that she'll let us brush her hair -- or, better yet, she'll do it. Naturally, she'll do this as she stands in front of the bathroom mirror, turning her head, preening, and flipping her hair over her shoulder so that it is "soft and pretty, mama!"
Four months ago she would run away shrieking if she saw the hairbrush, but now? Now she'll take off running to brush her hair as I try to get her winter coat on her, then she'll chastise me for putting the coat over her hair and "messing it all up!" Sigh...
One of the most humorous outcomes of her girly-girl phase is that she's not remotely interested in playing with boy things. OK, she wasn't really into trucks or trains to begin with, but now all of her doll families are Amazons or something, not a male in sight. We gave her Cinderella's prince for Christmas and he is still in the packaging, watching the other dolls enjoy the doll mansion because she refuses to let us open him. The doll family she got from my sister? Dad, Grandpa, and big brother are all in the bottom of the dollhouse accessories, forlornly huddled together for warmth.
And now she's insisting that she will marry a girl, too. Which is fine, if she really wants to do that. Lesbians rock. But her reason? "Boys are icky." Also fine for a three-year-old. And "Girls wear prettier dresses, so I wanna marry another princess. But I'll still be the best princess."
Why is it that I can see yards upon yards of organza and tulle in my future? Bottles upon bottles of lotion, perfume, and nail polish? Eighty-seven varieties of pink lip gloss? And a cell phone bill whose total rivals the GDP of a small nation?
I don't do nail polish. I've never had a pedicure. I don't like to spend hours on the phone, never have. I detest chick flicks and consider them a waste of time. I'm not big on cut flowers as a gift -- I'd rather have something I could eat or use. I prefer online shopping to real-life shopping. And I get my hair cut once a year or so.
But along comes my daughter. When she hit the ripe old age of two and received clothes and shoes for birthday gifts and was THRILLED. She has very definite opinions on which boots/shoes she wears with which outfits. She also has a shoe-addicted grandma who enables her growing collection. She brings me the phone regularly to call someone, anyone who will listen to her babble about what she's doing.
Recently, she has finally decided that she'll let us brush her hair -- or, better yet, she'll do it. Naturally, she'll do this as she stands in front of the bathroom mirror, turning her head, preening, and flipping her hair over her shoulder so that it is "soft and pretty, mama!"
Four months ago she would run away shrieking if she saw the hairbrush, but now? Now she'll take off running to brush her hair as I try to get her winter coat on her, then she'll chastise me for putting the coat over her hair and "messing it all up!" Sigh...
One of the most humorous outcomes of her girly-girl phase is that she's not remotely interested in playing with boy things. OK, she wasn't really into trucks or trains to begin with, but now all of her doll families are Amazons or something, not a male in sight. We gave her Cinderella's prince for Christmas and he is still in the packaging, watching the other dolls enjoy the doll mansion because she refuses to let us open him. The doll family she got from my sister? Dad, Grandpa, and big brother are all in the bottom of the dollhouse accessories, forlornly huddled together for warmth.
And now she's insisting that she will marry a girl, too. Which is fine, if she really wants to do that. Lesbians rock. But her reason? "Boys are icky." Also fine for a three-year-old. And "Girls wear prettier dresses, so I wanna marry another princess. But I'll still be the best princess."
Why is it that I can see yards upon yards of organza and tulle in my future? Bottles upon bottles of lotion, perfume, and nail polish? Eighty-seven varieties of pink lip gloss? And a cell phone bill whose total rivals the GDP of a small nation?
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Alec Baldwin, The Man of My Dreams?!? What??
Alec Baldwin, get outta my dreams.
Seriously.
The last few nights I have had dreams that I can barely remember, except for a few small details. And all of the dreams have one thing in common: Alec Baldwin.
These aren't sex dreams. Nope, not at all. They aren't really any kind of dream, I think. But in each one, I'll turn a corner or something and there he'll be -- Alec Baldwin, doing something normal.
In one dream, just before my new supervisor started, I was working in my office when the Associate Dean of the College brought around my new supervisor, Jack Donaghy from 30 Rock. Played by Alec Baldwin. Does that make me Tina Fey? I'd be OK with that, she seems bright and funny.
In the next dream, I was outside weeding my front flower bed, Milo and Violet were running all over and the twins were snoozing on a blanket in the shade. Scott was doing something with the chickens, when Alec Baldwin biked up and asked to buy a dozen eggs. Yes, he was biking on a gravel road. Wearing a tuxedo. And no helmet.
In the last dream, I was at the grocery store all by myself (whee! a mother's escape!) and as I was reaching for a carton of yogurt, Alec Baldwin asked me to recommend a flavor: strawberry or peach. Strawberry, of course. He still wasn't wearing a helmet.
I don't get celebrity crushes. Especially when the celebrity seems to be a bit of a, ahem, flake. I think this is mostly because Scott and I have been streaming 30 Rock on Netflix through the Wii and watching it after the kids go to bed. At least I hope that's the case. I told Scott about it and he nearly fell out of our bed laughing about the yogurt dream. Then again, he once told me about a dream where he walked in on me in a compromising position with Ted McGinley from Married With Children. I think I laughed equally as hard at that one. Thank goodness neither of us gets jealous of our spouse's insane dreams...
Stay tuned to see what else I dream about Alec Baldwin... I know you're as befuddled as I am about it. It's kinda like watching a really fat chick waddle by with a whale tail -- you want to look away, but the rippling buttocks are mesmerizing...
Seriously.
The last few nights I have had dreams that I can barely remember, except for a few small details. And all of the dreams have one thing in common: Alec Baldwin.
These aren't sex dreams. Nope, not at all. They aren't really any kind of dream, I think. But in each one, I'll turn a corner or something and there he'll be -- Alec Baldwin, doing something normal.
In one dream, just before my new supervisor started, I was working in my office when the Associate Dean of the College brought around my new supervisor, Jack Donaghy from 30 Rock. Played by Alec Baldwin. Does that make me Tina Fey? I'd be OK with that, she seems bright and funny.
In the next dream, I was outside weeding my front flower bed, Milo and Violet were running all over and the twins were snoozing on a blanket in the shade. Scott was doing something with the chickens, when Alec Baldwin biked up and asked to buy a dozen eggs. Yes, he was biking on a gravel road. Wearing a tuxedo. And no helmet.
In the last dream, I was at the grocery store all by myself (whee! a mother's escape!) and as I was reaching for a carton of yogurt, Alec Baldwin asked me to recommend a flavor: strawberry or peach. Strawberry, of course. He still wasn't wearing a helmet.
I don't get celebrity crushes. Especially when the celebrity seems to be a bit of a, ahem, flake. I think this is mostly because Scott and I have been streaming 30 Rock on Netflix through the Wii and watching it after the kids go to bed. At least I hope that's the case. I told Scott about it and he nearly fell out of our bed laughing about the yogurt dream. Then again, he once told me about a dream where he walked in on me in a compromising position with Ted McGinley from Married With Children. I think I laughed equally as hard at that one. Thank goodness neither of us gets jealous of our spouse's insane dreams...
Stay tuned to see what else I dream about Alec Baldwin... I know you're as befuddled as I am about it. It's kinda like watching a really fat chick waddle by with a whale tail -- you want to look away, but the rippling buttocks are mesmerizing...
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
22 Weeks Down, 16 to Go
I had my week 22 OB appointment today. It started with an ultrasound (#5). Both girls look great -- both growing and gaining and, currently, both head down. Let's hope they stay that way!!
Baby A's stats: measuring 22 weeks, 1 day and 1 pound 1 ounce
Baby B's stats: measuring 22 weeks, 3 days and 1 pound, 2 ounces
My stats: up 5lbs -- thank you holiday eating. This is the only weight gain I've posted so far, so I think that's OK -- 5 pounds in 22 weeks...
Blood pressure 122/78 using the fat lady cuff. Skinny young nurse didn't believe me that I needed it, but I do.
Cervical length is still right around 5cm. Anything over 3 is considered normal for just one baby, let alone two.
I didn't see my regular doctor, but the one I did see said, "You look perfect for carrying just one and even more perfect for carrying two! Great job, mama!"
And I simply cannot believe that there are less than 16 weeks until I hit 38 weeks - that's the point of induction/c-section/twin eviction. Wow...
In fun news, the babies' car seats will be here tomorrow, along with a twin stroller frame for the car seats and 10 Thirsties Snap Wrap cloth diaper covers, size 1. I figure they can get size 2 covers as a Christmas present next year, as I doubt either will hit 18 pounds by 9 months. 18 pounds is the upper limit of the size 1 covers and Violet didn't hit that weight until 1 year.
OHholycowisthispregnancyflyingby!!!
Baby A's stats: measuring 22 weeks, 1 day and 1 pound 1 ounce
Baby B's stats: measuring 22 weeks, 3 days and 1 pound, 2 ounces
My stats: up 5lbs -- thank you holiday eating. This is the only weight gain I've posted so far, so I think that's OK -- 5 pounds in 22 weeks...
Blood pressure 122/78 using the fat lady cuff. Skinny young nurse didn't believe me that I needed it, but I do.
Cervical length is still right around 5cm. Anything over 3 is considered normal for just one baby, let alone two.
I didn't see my regular doctor, but the one I did see said, "You look perfect for carrying just one and even more perfect for carrying two! Great job, mama!"
And I simply cannot believe that there are less than 16 weeks until I hit 38 weeks - that's the point of induction/c-section/twin eviction. Wow...
In fun news, the babies' car seats will be here tomorrow, along with a twin stroller frame for the car seats and 10 Thirsties Snap Wrap cloth diaper covers, size 1. I figure they can get size 2 covers as a Christmas present next year, as I doubt either will hit 18 pounds by 9 months. 18 pounds is the upper limit of the size 1 covers and Violet didn't hit that weight until 1 year.
OHholycowisthispregnancyflyingby!!!
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
My Hubby's Thing
My hubby has a thing. Well, I think most men have a thing, but I'm talking about a thing.
What I mean is that he gets on these food jags where he'll eat the same thing over and over and over, day after day for weeks on end, then he'll suddenly stop and not want to eat it for months. Usually after I have stocked up on said item.
Right now his thing is fake crab nachos. Except they're really not nachos -- they're tortilla chips with melted shredded cheese and fake crab. He's eaten them every night since Christmas Eve, I think.
Other things he's eaten:
Red Vines
Seafood subs from Subway with pickles
Trail mix, but nothing store bought because it might have something that isn't M & Ms, raisins, dry roasted peanuts or peanut butter chips in it. You'd have thought I bought him poison when I got him a mix that had all of that, plus almonds. Almonds = bad, I guess.
Popcorn, but not air popped with real butter and salt. Nope, he likes microwave popcorn with this unnaturally orange butter-flavored popcorn salt on it (and lots of it).
Peanut M & Ms
Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (but not the minis)
Instant apples & cinnamon oatmeal
Honey Nut Cheerios
Frosted Flakes
Starburst
Jelly Belly Jelly beans, but only ever the tangerine and cherry flavors
Sunkist strawberry soda (blech)
And here I am, the pregnant one, whose only cravings are for sushi, a margarita, and a nap -- none of which I can have right now.
What I mean is that he gets on these food jags where he'll eat the same thing over and over and over, day after day for weeks on end, then he'll suddenly stop and not want to eat it for months. Usually after I have stocked up on said item.
Right now his thing is fake crab nachos. Except they're really not nachos -- they're tortilla chips with melted shredded cheese and fake crab. He's eaten them every night since Christmas Eve, I think.
Other things he's eaten:
Red Vines
Seafood subs from Subway with pickles
Trail mix, but nothing store bought because it might have something that isn't M & Ms, raisins, dry roasted peanuts or peanut butter chips in it. You'd have thought I bought him poison when I got him a mix that had all of that, plus almonds. Almonds = bad, I guess.
Popcorn, but not air popped with real butter and salt. Nope, he likes microwave popcorn with this unnaturally orange butter-flavored popcorn salt on it (and lots of it).
Peanut M & Ms
Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (but not the minis)
Instant apples & cinnamon oatmeal
Honey Nut Cheerios
Frosted Flakes
Starburst
Jelly Belly Jelly beans, but only ever the tangerine and cherry flavors
Sunkist strawberry soda (blech)
And here I am, the pregnant one, whose only cravings are for sushi, a margarita, and a nap -- none of which I can have right now.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Mama-MIA
So you may have noticed I went MIA over the holidays.
Yeah.
I was busy.
The kids wanted to use the computer every time I sat down and thought about typing.
And I was lazy.
Yep, I'm admitting it. I laid around in my pajamas, snuggled my kids. Helped them try out their new toys. Did some laundry. And that's about it.
Honestly? I'm OK with it. I felt like I just needed to relax a bit. The upcoming month will be a tough one as Scott is working or traveling or both every weekend and I am winding down my full-time employment. Yep, I finally have a new supervisor and will transition back to half-time on February first. Which seems like not a moment too soon.
I'm huge -- the girls are both growing and moving and have the ability to pull a neat trick that leaves me breathless as they consecutively flip head-for toe. I'm guessing they both dislike being head-down at the same time, so if one switches to head down, the other dislikes it and switches to breech. If you've ever been pregnant, you know the odd sensation that is "baby rolling" or "baby flipping." When it happens one baby after another, I start poking around to see if I'm having a contraction. Thankfully, I haven't been, at least as far as I know.
Naturally, the other kids pick "baby flipping" time to ram their heads/elbows/feet/hips into my uncomfy on the inside belly so that it is uncomfy on the outside, too. I can foresee many a lap battle in my future... Right now, I still have enough lap for both kids big kids to fit at the same time, so that's good. But I fear that my lap space will dwindle rapidly. I'm already experiencing some of that third trimester discomfort -- my pubic bone aches if I walk to much and Tums are my new best friend. but, all in all, i have very little about which to complain.
Although, I could really use a great night's sleep...
Oh, here's us on Christmas Eve!
Yeah.
I was busy.
The kids wanted to use the computer every time I sat down and thought about typing.
And I was lazy.
Yep, I'm admitting it. I laid around in my pajamas, snuggled my kids. Helped them try out their new toys. Did some laundry. And that's about it.
Honestly? I'm OK with it. I felt like I just needed to relax a bit. The upcoming month will be a tough one as Scott is working or traveling or both every weekend and I am winding down my full-time employment. Yep, I finally have a new supervisor and will transition back to half-time on February first. Which seems like not a moment too soon.
I'm huge -- the girls are both growing and moving and have the ability to pull a neat trick that leaves me breathless as they consecutively flip head-for toe. I'm guessing they both dislike being head-down at the same time, so if one switches to head down, the other dislikes it and switches to breech. If you've ever been pregnant, you know the odd sensation that is "baby rolling" or "baby flipping." When it happens one baby after another, I start poking around to see if I'm having a contraction. Thankfully, I haven't been, at least as far as I know.
Naturally, the other kids pick "baby flipping" time to ram their heads/elbows/feet/hips into my uncomfy on the inside belly so that it is uncomfy on the outside, too. I can foresee many a lap battle in my future... Right now, I still have enough lap for both kids big kids to fit at the same time, so that's good. But I fear that my lap space will dwindle rapidly. I'm already experiencing some of that third trimester discomfort -- my pubic bone aches if I walk to much and Tums are my new best friend. but, all in all, i have very little about which to complain.
Although, I could really use a great night's sleep...
Oh, here's us on Christmas Eve!
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