The Memories are Sweet

Tomorrow. One year ago almost to the minute I was preparing for my last good nights sleep. Husband was home from class and we were discussing the pros and cons of not going to the hospital the night before the induction. He said we could sleep good for one more night. It was close to 11 pm and finally we brushed teeth and went to bed. Only an hour later I snapped out of my dream saying "uh oh" and then saying it again a minute later as I was finally wide awake. My water broke. I grabbed a towel off the floor and ran to the bathroom.

I remember it like it was last night. I remember being excited and so calm. I remember waiting to find out if it was a girl or not. Then, finally, I had my baby. He looked just like Peanut. I was instantly in love. He was perfect. He nursed great, he snuggled and slept. The love was instant. They placed him on my chest and he was full in my heart already. He still is. He really is my Sweetface. He goes everywhere with me and is usually good natured about the whole thing. When he puts his head on my shoulder I'm not sure how I can contain this much love. My eyes well up with tears, the love is literally pouring out of me.

There will be a party tomorrow in celebration of my little boy turning one. He has earned every minute of it. He has five teeth and took his first steps four days before his birthday. He sleeps through the night, takes two naps during the day and eats like a champ (mostly). He wears 12 month clothes but sometimes needs 18 month. He is not nearly as tall as Peanut was, but weighs nearly the same. His eyes are blue and his hair is reddish blond and way too long. I love this boy with every pulse I have, with every breath I take. He is the most precious gift I have ever received and I am thankful for him every day.

Family is arriving and will stay through the weekend. Friends are coming tomorrow. So many people to come celebrate one of my two blessings. I am lucky. The cakes are made, the gifts are wrapped. I will frost/decorate cakes, vegetables will be chopped and punch will be made in the morning. After lunch the balloons will be strung up. I've given my worry to one that can handle it. His hands are bigger. I will only enjoy the memories of that day one year ago.

The Weeds are Growing Too

My baby will be one on Saturday. Suddenly he's much more interested in walking. At church on Sunday he took off like a mad man. Being held was torture for him. He still can't walk, but he went for all he was worth holding on to a mommy or daddy finger. He would plop down to crawl, but neither of us wanted him to get trampled in the lobby.

He is starting to eat better too. In general he is still pretty picky, but he seems willing to try more things. Or maybe I'm just offering him more things I think he will like. Either way I try to get a balanced diet in him. Fruit, vegetable, dairy and some meat. He loves bread, but gets more than he needs.

Peanut is testing us daily. He is an expert at pushing at the rules just enough that we bend a tiny bit without breaking the rule. But after a couple weeks we realize the rule has long been broken. We snap back to attention and Peanut hates it for a while before he starts pushing again. He was in top form today. Yesterday he was sick and got to have a Sprite to settle his tummy. Today he thought he would get another one even though he was feeling fine. I explained he got one special because he was sick. A few hours later he told this long story about birds and they get in your tummy and you go to the doctor and he tells you that you are sick and you get to go home and have a Sprite. It was a cute story.

I'm pudgy. I look 6 months pregnant. For real. I'm waiting for someone to ask when I'm due. Now that I'm done nursing and the baby is almost one I think it's time to own the extra weight that is still hanging around. It's not going to melt off from nursing or any other activity. Somehow I need to get some exercise in my life. Playing volleyball is great, but it's only once a week. There is a SAHM running group nearby, but they run on the nights I can't. I could join a gym, but most have less than fabulous daycares. I don't want to be paged in the middle of working out to come change a diaper. Surely there is a childcare center in a gym that will change a diaper if need be. Oh well. I could start at home for free, but I have zero motivation. I just know my clothes don't fit and swimsuit season is fast approaching.

Tonight

Life with kids. It really does change every aspect of your life. I used to stay up late, sleep in and be lazy. Now I stay up later than I should, sleep in as late as I can and while I'm still a bit lazy I have to get moving for the kids. Of course I also had a job to dress for and get to on time. My mom job lets me wear pajamas if I want, though I have to be on time EVERY DAY!

Peanut is a handful again or maybe it's still. I'm not sure he ever stopped. Lately he has become quite adamant. He has no idea about what exactly, but whatever it is he latches onto, he is adamant. For example, he won't call the evening meal 'dinner'. He says he doesn't want dinner, he wants lunch. I think in his mind he wants the type of food you eat at lunch. We typically have a sandwich for lunch and more of a hot meal for dinner. I would guess he wants the sandwich. Who knows?

Also lately he has been getting out of bed a lot more. The first time tonight he asked if I would help get 'Credible Hulk' out of his room. He is a Super Hero freak and sometimes they stay in his room. I guess the gang gets rowdy because occasionally he will ask me to kick someone out. I went in and told him to get out so Peanut could sleep. The next time was a problem with the blanket. He had taken it off the bed and wanted it tucked in.

There is a line of storms headed our way and I really want him asleep before they get here. Otherwise we'll have trouble keeping him in his room for that. Once he is sleeping he is like a log and does not wake up for anything.

SF had some horrible diaper rash. I called the doctor last Monday and go the nurse line. They made some suggestions and said to give it 5 days. By Thursday we couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't really getting any better and he was in some serious pain. It was awful. We took him to the doctor on Thursday afternoon. The doctor took one look and sent us for a special cream. It has medicine for yeast/bacteria and something else mixed with diaper cream. He was better the next morning. It cost $5. I couldn't believe the nurse would make me try other things and wait while my son was in agony when I could have spent $5 for the magic cure. We were glad we didn't wait any longer and I'm guessing so was SF. When your delicate bits are on fire no one is happy.

Hair Yesterday Gone Today

I got a haircut. I've been hating my blah mom hair for a while. It was long, plain and often in a ponytail or bun. Today I decided I have had enough. I called the beauty shop and asked for someone good. They suggested B. OK. I went in and you know the first thing they say is "what are we doing today"? My response was that we needed to talk. I love the length, but it's getting tedious to wash, comb, dry and style. It's blah. I'm willing to make a change and want something easy to fix and cute. Though I was willing to go shorter I think this is a good start. She cut about 7 inches off. I'm having some trouble getting used to it. There is enough for a short ponytail and now I have bangs. I haven't had bangs in many years. They are long and sweep to the side.

So far I love it. Husband says it looks good. Peanut said it looked funny, but enjoyed running his fingers through it. SF still just yanks on it, but at 9 months I expect that. I really hope to start fixing it more often. My attitude is so much better when I am fixed up a bit. Perhaps I shall start getting up earlier to get ready for 'work'.

Also, I toured a gym and got a free week pass. This one has child watch for $2 per day but I'm not sure how involved they will get. The community center has the same thing, but they won't do anything with the child except make sure they don't die. Seriously, they call you to feed, change, pick up or console your child. I'm not a hard core workout person, but I don't want to get paged every 5 minutes. This new place seems to do everything, but the guy wasn't sure they would change a diaper. Give me a break. I'm thinking the odds of SF going two hours without needing a new diaper is 70/30. Like maybe 30% chance he'll need one. I'll try the free week and see what happens. The price is reasonable if the childcare works out.

Thoughts are Like Ashes

They come out of nothing, are brilliant for a while, then die off and fall to the pile below.

No more day anything. I made it through day one and two and then stopped. I hurt my back two weeks ago and have not been able to do much of anything until now. Hopefully, I can start day one again soon.

I watched my son ride his little bike today. He is growing and I can't seem to stop it. I was filled with a sense of wonder as his little legs pumped up and down. Soon he will ride without training wheels. Soon he will ride farther than our driveway. Soon he will ride away with friends. It is wonderful to watch him grow and learn.

Peanut doesn't need glasses. Yet. He is far-sighted as most children are at his age, but it seems to be a moderate case. After a full exam it is determined to leave it be. He will be re-checked in six months to make sure nothing changes. Poor kid. He already has hearing aides, we don't want to saddle him with glasses too.

I tried to think of something to give up for Lent. I think I'll go with caffeine. I don't have much, but if I can kick it for 40 days then all the better. Of course I messed up already not realizing you are to start at midnight on Fat Tuesday. I shall start now.

Out of the Mouths

Super Heroes are big in our house. Several times a day we are assigned a Super to be. Peanut is usually Spiderman or Batman. Occasionally we get to choose, but usually he decides. Husband decided he was going to be Captain America the other day. This morning in the car Peanut asked me where he was.

Peanut: Where is my Daddy? Where is my friend, Captain America?

I have been trying to be Wonder Woman since she is a girl and so am I. Tonight Peanut asked me who I was.

Peanut: Mommy are you Wonder Warmer? Daddy said you were Wonder Warmer.

That's me. I can warm up anyone or anything. There are so many crazy things this kid says. We have decided he has no inner monologue. Where most of us think several million thoughts a day and only vocalize a small percentage of them. He says every thought he has. My sister asked if I thought he had thoughts that he didn't say. I don't think so. When would he have time? His motor-mouth goes non-stop. I love the little guy and he is pretty entertaining, but it's also tiring.

One new fascination he has is with soda, specifically Sprite. That is what I drink most often. The other day I had some and he asked for a drink so I put 1/2 a cup in his cup. He was drinking through a straw so I cautioned him the bubbles might go in his nose. Of course he didn't listen and the bubbles tickled him. This morning I had a soda in the car and he asked what it was. I told him it was a soda.

Peanut: I don't want the bubbles to blow my nose up.

Indeed. No one wants that. Noses would be lost all over the World. He is a semi-perfect parrot. Tonight at dinner he kept changing his mind over whether to eat his meal with a fork or spoon. I told him he could get whichever he wanted. He went into this conversation about can I have a spoon or fork? After asking over and over and over and over I said he could get whatever. He came back to the table with a large serving spoon.

Peanut: Mama, is this a spoon?
Me: Yes (thinking whether or not to explain big vs. little spoons)

I gave up and sighed thinking at least he was going to eat his dinner. I think I said that out loud because when he got back to his chair he said the following.

Peanut: Whatever.

We try not to laugh at the things he says because sometimes it really is inappropriate. Usually it's too funny not to bust up.

Husband: Crap!
Peanut: Crap. Is that a spider? Crap. Crap spider. Is Crap a spider Daddy?
Me: (Rolling eyes at Husband for teaching 3 yr old new word)

It's fun when he opens up in front of others too. We spent Christmas at my sisters house and because the rest of the family did too sleeping space was limited. I ended up sleeping in a bed with Peanut. He tossed and turned all night and I slept very little. Sometime around 5:30 am he started to wake up. I told him to go back to sleep. Daddy then got up (he was sleeping on the floor next to the bed) and talked to him a bit. That night in the van with two of my sisters, my mother and my sisters two kids and Peanut we were driving around looking at Christmas lights. I was telling the story of not sleeping well and how Peanut started to wake before 6.

Me: Then Husband woke up and started telling him to go back to sleep.
Peanut (while slamming fist into hand for emphasis): Daddy said stop your damn crying.

I'm not sure of the exact statement, but the d word was uttered. I didn't hear him and no one would say what he said. Suffice it to say it wasn't anything a 3 yr old should be saying. Oh well.

At dinner last night he was kind of messy and Husband gave him a napkin.

Husband: Wipe your forearms.
Peanut: I don't have four arms. Silly Daddy I only have two. One. Two. Not four.

I saw that one coming. Especially since way back when Peanut was trying to tell Husband something and he kept starting over and kids do.

Husband: Spit it out.
Peanut: Spittooey.

He looked down and spit. We were in the living room at the time. Kids take everything so literal. It really is great to listen to how he views the World. I just wish he could keep his view to himself once in a while. There are so many great things he says. It makes me a little sad when he starts saying things right. I know you want them to develop and speak clearly and properly, but there is something about that innocent, kid talk that I'll really miss.

Little Boy Lost

Second Child Syndrome is a real thing. During my pregnancy I heard stories of how baby books were never filled out, if they were even bought. They told me how the second child gets lost in the bustle of activities for the first child. I knew you took far less photos and video of the second.
I didn't believe it. Actually, I did believe it, but I thought I could overcome it. If I just put my mind to it we would have plentiful pictures and video. The baby book would be purchased and filled out even better than the first. I would protect the nap time of the second child, venturing out only when necessary.

How am I doing? Not so good. SF has had life better and worse than Peanut. I knew what mistakes not to make, but I made some anyway. I knew what to look for and when not to panic, but I panicked anyway. I knew not to stress over every feeding, sometimes they eat and sometimes not, but I stressed anyway. I bought the baby book and filled in several pages, but then the baby came and it's not been opened.

There are two things I feel awful about regarding the second child. These are two things I can never fix. I cannot go back in time and change things. I'm trying very hard to not be upset about them. I have the child and he is wonderful. That really is enough for me. If our house were to be destroyed along with all our belongings I would rejoice that my family is safe. Pictures are pieces of paper, but my children are most precious.

The first thing is that I don't know the birth weight of SF. The scale said 9 lbs 13 oz when he was put on it. We had a picture of it. BUT. Twelve hours after his birth he only weighed 9 lbs 1 oz. The doctor and nurses didn't believe he lost that much in so little time. He nursed well and had no other medical problems. The next weight was only a couple ounces less so they think the 9#13 was wrong. So I don't know what his true birth weight was. I'll never know if he was more or less than Peanut. It doesn't matter, but it's a stat. everyone asks and I don't know the answer. My friend K said this "when it's 100 degrees out and someone says 'it's only 98' it's still really F&*$ing hot".

The second thing is that we seem to have lost all pictures of SF before July. Two months of his life are gone. The birth day. Peanut holding him for the first time. Seeing his naked little body on the scale. Looking at him wrapped up laying on his mommy for the first time. Pictures of all the family meeting him for the first time. It's all gone. I can't get it back, though Husband has been trying to find it. I remember every detail. I can see it very clearly. How do I share that with SF in two, six or fifteen years when he asks to see his baby pictures? Will he care? Will he feel like I love him less?

These two things give me a sense of failure. I am heartbroken that we didn't go to the lengths we did to protect everything for Peanut. He has over 1000 pictures and SF has maybe 100, but very few of just him.

My New Year's Resolution will be to constantly have a camera with me to capture the fabulous moments in my children's lives. Another will be to back up everything fanatically.

It's Ugly Here

There is a lot of anger living in our house. We all seem to have anger issues. Peanut is 3 so you can understand he has a million things wrong or at least thinks he does. Of course, 99% of that is easily fixed. Thumper (who will now be known as SweetFace or SF) is 6 months so there are a few things that anger him. Mostly he wants to eat and we can't get the food in his mouth fast enough. Or, like tonight, he backed himself under the coffee table and got stuck again. These are also easily fixes. No, it's the anger that Husband and I carry that is the issue.

We aren't connecting like we used to. I guess kids does that to a couple, but I'm not sure how to get over it. We spend so much time getting from one tantrum to the next until bedtime, that we are both wiped out. Then we spend the evening/night doing all the things that need to be done. Babysitters are hard to find (and afford) so we don't go out much. At one point we each had a night off to go out, alone. Even that has been reduced to a couple of hours. Husband goes to his study group one night and school another. I play volleyball and have a study group. Both of those last 2-3 hours. I don't think it's enough for either of us.

I'm tired of pretending it's OK when I hear yelling in the house. I'm tired of making Husband feel bad when I call him out on anger issues. Yes, I'm sure it makes him feel bad, but am I not supposed to step in? I'm tired of pretending it doesn't bother me just to keep the peace. Mostly, I'm tired.

I love being a mom and I have two great kids, but I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the all the time-ness that seems to have taken over. I haven't had a haircut in a salon in over a year. My sister cut it 6 months ago, but it needs professional help now. I haven't gone out to do it because I hate asking Husband to watch this kids. I know he has a rough time and gets angry. So instead I just stay home. Perhaps the hour or two for volleyball and the 2-3 hours for study group is enough to ask him to watch them. It's easier for Husband to go out. It seems like when he gets time off it's a lot of time. I hate to keep score, but when he goes out he doesn't have to take a child with him (though he usually does take Peanut when he can). I usually do have to take SF. Otherwise I have to be back every 3-4 hours to feed him or use the milk in the freezer thus confirming no babysitter since there would be no milk.

On top of all of this I think we lost the baby pictures of SF. I can't find anything earlier than two months. It's bad enough he has second child syndrome and there are hardly any pictures of him, but now we have nothing. It makes me sick to think of it.

So right now it's not pretty here. The stress is getting to me. I'm tired.

Merry Christmas

Miracles Really Do Happen

We started sleep training Thumper on Monday. Basically, we do a bedtime routine then put him in bed and leave. He has cried anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour. This crying hurts me more than anything. Knowing I could instantly stop it and don't is hard. Tonight I gave him a bath, put pajamas on, read two books and sang a short song. He seemed pretty wired, but I put him down and kissed his head goodnight. Not a peep has been heard (knock wood).

In other news we are babysitting my almost 7 year old nephew, S. His sister has an activity out of town and he would be totally bored there. My sister J asked if we'd watch him overnight and most of tomorrow. I agreed, but with zero excitement. It's not that he is any trouble, but I just don't know how to relate to him. Peanut LOVES to play with S, but he gets tired of him. Maybe it's just because he's kind of awkward. Long legs, skinny, losing teeth and kind of a dodo bird. He's like his father in that respect. Neither of them really ever think. I don't expect a 7 year old to be brilliant, but I do expect them to understand certain things. Only recently did he know the difference between a front and back door and which was located where. I hope I can relate to my own sons more when they are his age.

Husband offered to watch the kids so I could go to a spa tomorrow. I never sat down and decided where to go and what to do until last night and it was too late to make an appointment. I guess I'll wait a bit longer. It seems something always comes up. Perhaps I will go clothes shopping tomorrow. I need some jeans to wear. The one pair that fit me are starting to wear out from wearing them all the time. I need another pair to balance out. Looks like I might end up taking Thumper with me though. Depends on if I can squeeze out some milk or not. He shouldn't be much of a problem.

We're hosting dinner for a bunch of people on Sunday. We've been to their houses for dinner and it's sort of a nice thing to pay them back, but at the same time having so many people over stresses me out. I hate things getting out of place. My house is always a mess, but the chaos of so many people roaming around gets to me. Especially, when some of those people are under age 10. Wish me luck!

Oh My!

So I feel pretty worthless right now. On Monday, Husband meets with his MBA group to study or whatever they need to get done. This makes the third week in a row that he has come home early to help. I can't seem to make it past about 6:00pm without intervention. One or both boys starts crying and I can't do jack to get them calmed down. Husband says he is on the way and things calm down.

I am no comfort to my own child. With Peanut all I had to do was pick him up and he was instantly calm. Holding him was all he needed. Even now that he is nearing 3 being held goes a long way with him. Thumper? Not so much. I hold. I sing. I rock, jiggle, sway, shush and a million other things. Unless he's hungry, it doesn't seem to be me he wants. That is not to say he wants Husband, but several times that has worked out OK for him.

Perhaps he has an ear infection or something else going on? When he nurses on my right side he seems less content. Maybe my right side tastes funny. I don't really know. The point is I don't seem to be able to relax him. Many a night he cries until he passes out from exhaustion. That is not the way I want him to learn to go to sleep.

This week I have no paint jobs or anything else planned. It is the week to get him sleep trained so he can put himself to sleep. All day I watched him and when he started to look a little sleepy I put him down. Poof. He would be asleep. Great. I didn't think he was trained and we were done with it, but then about 6 pm he started crying and would not be soothed. I gave him Tylenol and about 20 minutes later he nursed himself to sleep. Was is the Tylenol kicking in or the hour he fussed and cried that put him to sleep? Either way, it's not something I want to make a habit.

On one hand I'm happy Husband can get him to sleep, but on the other hand I want it to be me. So when Husband takes him from me and then puts him to sleep I'm jealous. The thing is, I've been having trouble with jealousy lately. A friend is newly pregnant and announced it after Peanuts birthday party. I wasn't really happy for her. I wasn't really sad either. Part of me is jealous that she gets to be pregnant and get the attention. She is the new cool thing right now. I'm a little sad it's not me. Especially since no one cared when I was pregnant. There is no sympathy for the second round. This is her second too, but because of who she is, I'm sure it will be a big deal.

Then last night I convinced her to play volleyball with me. She ended up hurting her ankle pretty bad. I felt really guilty. I didn't have anything to do with it, but felt at fault. After thinking about it I'm pretty sure I felt guilty because I was not happy for her pregnancy. It doesn't make sense, but that's how my moods/emotions are running these days. I feel quite damned if I do and damned if I don't. I'd like to paint, make money and get out of the house, but I feel guilty for hauling the baby out with me so much. My sister manages to make me feel guilty about not going, but yet tells me to take a day off.

I really need some time to myself, but feel guilty about it. Husband is supposed to have Monday and Thursday evenings for school. I play volleyball on Sunday and have a study group meeting on Wednesday. While I'm glad he watched the boys so I can attend both, it's not really a break. I get so busy for the hour I'm gone, that it isn't very relaxing. I'd love to spend some time at a spa or even home alone or out with a friend (if I had any that could go with me). I realize Husband spends the day working, not relaxing, but he still gets out of the house and away from the kids. I have at least one of them all the time. Of course I'm nursing so it's harder to get away.

On My Mind

First, my kid is sick. Peanut has had a runny nose for over a week and in the last few days a cough has developed. Today a fever popped up. It is low-grade, but will be watched. Tonight he was coughing so hard he threw up. He was pretty upset about it. Daddy did a great job calming him down and I changed all the bedding. During the day he would cough and look at me with tears in his eyes as if to say 'mommy, make it stop'. How I wish I could have. It really breaks my heart to see my kid sick.

So, no school for him tomorrow. As a mother I totally understand and he should stay home and I'll nurse him to health if I can. As an individual that is very used to sending him to school on a Wednesday I'm disappointed to have to give up 'my' day. Even though I still have Thumper I can relax quite a bit. Sure Thumper cries, but I feed him and put him to sleep and things are great.

Oh well. We'll probably end up watching television for most of the day. That's OK. Kids need those lazy sick days. It won't hurt him to be spoiled for an extra day. My concern at this point is to keep the other 3 family members from getting it. I pretty much get everything that gets anywhere near me so I'm probably going to get it. Please, please, please do not let the baby get it. That is the last thing we need.

Second, I am supposed to be helping my sister with a paint job. I did tell her ahead of time that this is her job and I would help when I could. I spent about 6 hours there yesterday and got 2 1/2 hours worth of work done. It's hard to work with a baby. He was extra fussy yesterday and didn't nap well. I was frustrated. When you have a baby you know you won't get stuff done, but you still want to. Anyway, I didn't work today and won't tomorrow or Thursday. So maybe on Friday if we all stay healthy I might get to work some. I have to keep reminding myself the kids come first and anything after that is gravy for me.

I told my sister tonight that I might have to stay home. She was pretty uncaring about it. She basically said 'whatever'. I was a little sad until I realized the other option is she makes me feel bad for not being there. Neither option was one I wanted, but I'm not sure there was one in between. Maybe she could have said something about she understands, but she'll still miss having me there. Yes. That would have been nice to hear.

Third. I'm tired. Have I mentioned that before? Oh. Well it's still true. I don't feel appreciated. Do I toot my own horn to get attention? That somehow feels fake. If no one notices what I do, then what's the point. I don't want to have to list what I do so someone can then say oh wow.

Fourth. Did I mention the cleaning people are gone? It was a mix up and I don't miss them really, but I miss having a clean house. We are total slackers when it comes to cleaning. Right now we have an excuse with the sick kids, but what then? I guess I'll try to find a new person soon.

Singing

Do you hear that? That is the sound of angels singing. Wonderful isn't it? No, really. It's the sound of both my children asleep. At the same time.

Nap time has become a struggle again. Last night I hit on something that might work for a while though. Peanut kept crying so I went in there and scooped him up. I sat in the chair holding him like a giant baby. He hated it. I told him if he acted like a baby he was going to be treated like one. He settled right down and said he was a big boy. Off to bed he went without a fuss. Of course this was over an hour after bedtime, but whatever. Today at nap it worked again, but it didn't take nearly as long.

Geez! It's July.

Our AC went out. It is totally dead. We spent last night with all the windows open and several fans going. I won't say it was pleasant, but it was OK. Today was fine since the weather was cooler. We keep the lights off and the fans going and that makes a huge difference. Someone is coming tomorrow to install a new one. The stupid thing is we haven't even lived here a year and the thing was new just before we moved in. It's not even a year old and it died.

In other news, Peanut is becoming more testy. He tries at every moment to get away with things he knows are wrong. He is hitting more, yelling more and all around being testy. We're trying to be patient since we just brought home a little brother and all, but come on already. Plus we realize he is two and that's what they do. Still. It would be nice to not have a half dozen time outs during a day.

The baby is doing well. He's growing like a weed. We go for our first check on Monday so we'll see where we are on the charts. I think it will be just like Peanut and he will plot his own line in space. What is in my milk anyway? I should bottle it and send it to starving countries. Forget oatmeal and rice, have some fattening milk.

Argh

Let me start by saying I love my family and have never been happier. That being said I think the postpartum phase has begun. I've been OK for the first few weeks, but I'm still not myself. It's not really the typical depressed, don't want to go anywhere or see anyone feeling. It's more the, tick me off and I'll punch you in the face sort of feeling.

I'm tired. I'm jealous of anyone and everyone sleeping more than me. I'd love to do something all my own for a day even if that meant going to work for eight hours. I'm tired of cooking, cleaning, keeping things in line and laundry. I'm tired of Peanut having no memory of things he is not supposed to do and doing them so often I'm on the brink of screaming. Is two years, eight months the point at which they snap and can do nothing but test me?

I'm tired of still looking/feeling pregnant. I know it's only been three weeks and I'm not expecting it to be different so fast, but my clothes don't fit and I'm tired of being sore. I think as a reward for birthing a child, nature should get your body back to you a lot faster. It would make dealing with things a lot easier.

At the end of the day I have given all I have to Peanut, the baby and the house and there is nothing left for me or Husband. He tries to hold my hand or do some other loving gesture and I can't stand it. I just want to be left alone. It doesn't mean I don't love him, it's just I have nothing left. At night when the baby wakes up he usually gets up with him first and I go to the bathroom and then stumble in to feed the baby. Husband goes back to bed until the next feeding. On one hand I think this makes sense since he has to get up and go to work while I can stay home and sort of lay around all day. But, on the other hand I hate that I have to be awake for an hour to feed, change and get baby back to sleep. Then I get to do it again in two hours.

That's another thing. That whole three hour schedule is bull. I realize you count from the beginning of a feeding to the next, but when it's an hour (or more) until you get done then you only have 1-2 hours before the next feeding. I guess that's some sleep, but just when you get comfortable it's time to get up again.

I feel that breastfeeding is the best option for my kid. It's healthy and good for me and not to mention cheaper than formula. But there are times I think it would be a lot nicer to let someone else take a feeding or two. Husband did offer to feed baby a bottle of pumped milk, but I'd still have to get up and pump so I may as well feed baby.

I'll get over all of this as soon as I get some more sleep and me time. There are things I'd like to do that I just can't yet. Once I can do them I think I'll feel a little more human. Until then, just don't tick me off or you might get that punch to the face. ;)

Take Two. This Makes Four.

Peanut went to school on Friday and I spent the whole day snuggling with Thumper. We mostly watched television and slept on the couch. Once in a while I thought he felt warm, but since we were so close and he was wearing a sleeper I didn't think much of it.

Then yesterday morning he felt very hot to me and husband. Husband took his temperature and it was 100.4. We called the ped. office and they sent us straight to Childrens Mercy to be treated. The upside is he seems to be ok other than fever. The downside is that they test for everything by doing several cultures that take 48 hours. So we are stuck here until Monday for sure and longer if things don't turn around.

We did this same thing with Peanut. He was only 3 days old instead of 15, but a newborn is a newborn. The nurses are all pretty nice and take good care of him. The doctor was nice, but seemed a little odd to me.

Peanut got shipped off to his aunts house (again). We owe that woman a lot for watching him so much. We've been at a hospital 4 times in the last couple months. Unreal. Though I will say we're being watched over because it's turned out ok each time.

It's the Day After Your Birthday

Once the baby was born he stayed on me for quite a while. Other than getting weight, height and the apgar, he didn't go anywhere. It was nice to not have him taken away first thing. His color and breathing were good so I got to keep him for almost 20 minutes. Then the nurse came in to clean him and dress him and all that.


His weight was listed at 9lbs 13oz. and height was 21 inches.


After I got him back again and I was all situated with ice packs and whatnot we just spent family time together. The nurses disappeared and only came in to do the vital checks. It was really nice.


My sister brought Peanut later in the day. He was a little wary at first. I think seeing me like that made him a little nervous. I was holding the baby when he came in and he said "that baby came out". He did really well. We gave him a bag of presents to unwrap and he thought that was great. He wanted to hold the baby and even cried when he was taken away. He seemed to understand that the baby wasn't in mommy anymore.


They didn't stay long. We kept him in the room for most of the night but did send him to the nursery one time. He just wanted to suck and not nurse and my boobs were too sore for that. We sent him out so we could get a little rest. They brought him back screaming for food about 3 hours later. Glorious sleep.


They did the weight and vital check on him while he was in the nursery at 3 am. When they brought him back the nurse told us he weighed 9lbs 1 oz. This was a 12 oz drop. We figured on of the measurements had to be off. Turns out it was the original weight that was off. He probably weighed more like 9.03 or 9.05 instead of 9.13. It doesn't really matter because he was still big, but it's sad we won't ever know the true weight. 9.13 is in the book, but it's not right. That's the only thing about the whole experience that makes me sad.


The next day was busy. He was checked by the pediatrician, circumcised, photographed and visited by more friends. That was all before 10am. Then the paperwork lady came in and snapped at us to finish the birth certificate. We didn't have a name picked out yet. She was really rude about the whole thing. We put the do not disturb sign on the door and it took us about 10 minutes to come up with the name.


After that we just hung out and got to know the little guy.

It's Your Birthday!

Due date 5/20. Pre-term labor at 33 weeks stopped with medication. Medication stopped at 36 weeks.

The due date pretty much came and went. We talked with the doctor and scheduled an induction for 5/30 at 6 am. It was a lot later than I wanted, but it was the only opening for the doctor and hospital. You take what you can get.

On 5/23 I woke up sick and started having different contractions. I thought for sure it was labor, but was not. This was trip #2 to the hospital with no baby coming out.

So on Thursday 5/29 I took Peanut to my sisters house to stay while we had baby. I stayed for dinner and got him ready for bed. I hated leaving him there because he is a hot kid and her house was about a 1000 degrees. Anyway, that night husband and I were doing last minute preparations and I said it was a bummer we couldn't have just gone in that night to get it started. He replied that it was nice for us to get to sleep in our own beds one last time. So we went to bed around 11 or so.

I was asleep and dreaming when I felt something gush. I either said out loud or in the dream 'uh oh'. Then it gushed again and I said/dreamed 'uh oh' again. At that point I jumped up, grabbed a towel and ran for the bathroom. I flicked the light on and just sat there pondering what to do. I took off my wet clothes and went to get some dry ones. Husband asked what was happening and I calmly said "my water broke". He bolted upright and started mumbling hospital. I tried to explain we were supposed to call the doctor and/or hospital first before just showing up. He was very tired as it was just midnight and we'd only been asleep for about an hour.

At the time I wasn't having any contractions and felt a little weird heading to the hospital without them. No need to fear though, they started like clockwork on the way, coming about every 3 minutes. By the time we got to the hospital, in the room and situated they were pretty strong. By now it was about 1:30am. I was finally starting to dilate a little too. I think I was a solid 2, maybe 2 1/2.

I labored through the contractions for a while, but they started to be pretty intense. I was worried it was too early for drugs. I didn't want to slow labor down at all. No need to worry. About 4 am I called the nurse for an epidural. I was dilated about 4-5 so I was happy to go ahead and get one. The lady that did it was nice and explained everything, but talked so quiet I could barely hear her. Anyway, after a little while I didn't feel anything. She gave me a button to push if the pain got more intense and I needed more drugs. Woo hoo!

I tried to sleep at this point, but they took my blood pressure every 15 minutes and each time it was below the acceptable level so the alarm went off. I had to page the nurse every time. She asked if I was dizzy or anything and since I was mostly laying there trying to sleep I didn't really feel too different. After an hour of this she called the drug lady back in. They gave me something to elevate my blood pressure. It went from 90 over 40 to 166 over something. This made me pretty sick and I started to throw up. Lovely. After a few minutes of this it was back down to 90 over 40 and I felt better. I'm not sure why this wasn't a problem, but they didn't do anything else at this point.

Shift change happens at 7 am so I got a new nurse. She wasn't quite as friendly as the first girl, but ended up doing a great job. I finally rested for a while until around 8:30am. The contractions started being much more intense and I felt the pain again. I was breathing through them even with the epidural. I kept thinking maybe this meant I was getting close to having the baby. So I pushed my drug button and paged the nurse. The doctor came in around the same time too. At 9:11 am I was fully dilated and effaced. The doctor said I should start pushing. So we did.

After the first push I started to throw up again. I was so disappointed. I didn't want to be sick, I wanted to get the baby out. I was so mentally ready to do what I had to do to get it out. Fortunately, I wasn't sick long and she gave me oxygen to inhale while I pushed. I was surprised how much this helped me feel better. Anyway, I pushed as best I could for 40 minutes or so. Then she said we should try tug of war. It was a great position for me. She tied a blanket in a circle so I could hold one side and she held the other. I could pull in front of me instead of on the sides of the bed. Just a few minutes later and we were ready. The doctor came in and said to stop pushing and they got everything ready. Then it took one more push and he was out.

He was so big, slippery and wiggly that I though the doctor was going to drop him. The nurse next to her grabbed his lower body and they sort of shoved him onto my chest. He looked just like Peanut. It was like having him all over again. They sewed me up and wiped off the baby. We were so happy.

More to Come

We had the baby on 5-30. Boy. Over 9 lbs, 21 inches long.

We've been home adjusting and getting used to things. Everyone is doing great.

I have lots of things to post and only one hand to type with.

For the sake of remembering what to post here are the topics I want to type about:

1. The birth story
2. Peanuts reaction to a new baby
3. My mother (lots of things here, but I'll remember as I go)
4. The differences in the first child vs. the second

Will I ever sleep again? Thumper has been sleeping pretty well for an almost 2 week old. Last night he went 6 hours between feedings. I'd guess he slept about 4 or so hours.

He's a good eater and a decent sleeper. The only trouble we have is burping him. He doesn't seem to want to let them out. It takes up to a couple hours to get them all out. Today he's been doing better at it.

Smile and Nod

As I continue to be pregnant and near the end I thought I would compile a short list of things to and not to do concerning pregnant women.

Do:

Bring her a drink, snack, magazine or something so she doesn't have to get up. She needs to rest while growing a baby.

Buy her flowers, chocolates, or whatever else might brighten her day.

Offer to rub her back, feet or any other body part of her choosing to ease sore muscles. Better yet, offer to send her to a spa to have a pro do it.

Watch any other children for a while so she can have some relaxing alone time.

Have her make a list of things she would like done. Do one or two of them once in a while. She'll feel like things are getting done without having to strain.

Buy her something fabulous to congratulate her for carrying a baby for 9+ months without going insane (much) or killing anyone (though they deserved it I'm sure).

Encourage her daily (or by the minute). Let her know she is doing the best she can and you are proud of her. Pregnancy is tough, she is like a soldier in a war. She is working harder than you know and deserves some credit.

Do Not:

Ask if she is still pregnant. Yes, she is. Unless she doesn't know you at all you will get a call or email announcing the birth. Asking every day only reminds her she is still pregnant. If she doesn't know you at all then you're just being creepy.

Ask if she is ready to be done. Yes, she is. She knows this better than anyone. Don't act like it is a burden to you, she's got a lot going on.

Ask if she is having contractions or if labor has in any way started yet. If it's your business to know she will tell you. Asking this over and over only reminds her that, no, nothing is happening.

Say wow, gosh, oh my, holy cow, or any other exclamation indicating you are amazed she is so big and has not yet exploded.

Ask if her doctor is crazy or imply he/she is in some way not capable of delivering a baby. She has picked her doctor and put her faith and trust in this person. Do NOT shake her faith now.

Point out the due date has passed. She knows. She is well aware of that date and it's passage without giving birth.

Tell her how to feel, think or act. Yes, she may be irrational, but that is her right. If she is crying, acknowledge it, don't tell her to stop.

If at First You Don't Succeed, Pack Your Bags and Go Home

When I woke up today at 7 I felt yucky. Something was off. I got up and tried to pinpoint the problem. Mostly I felt a little sick. Then the contractions started. These were not the same contractions I had been having for weeks. These were more painful, in a different location and just felt like the ones I needed. We went through our morning and the contractions got stronger. I didn't want to do anything. We took Peanut to school and then called the doctor. She suggested going to hospital to get checked and we would go from there.

My mom and sister, J, were with me as well as Husband. We started to play some cards to pass the time. Somewhere just after the middle I started to not feel so hot. The urge to vomit was pretty strong and only intensified with each contraction. Suddenly other voices were annoying. The sound of the cards were annoying. Everything was grating on me. I said I needed to stop and J asked if I wanted them to leave. All I could manage was a nod. She and my mom happily went to lunch.

Then I was hot, cold, agitated, uncomfortable and in pain. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to get up and run away from the hurting. After a few minutes of this I got up to go to the bathroom. I did my thing and when I got back I could drink water and felt mostly fine. My feet were cold, but otherwise no hot/cold flashes. The color in my face returned and I felt pretty good except for the contractions still coming every 2-4 minutes.

The nurse came in a while later and said I was being sent home. I wasn't dilating and though I was having a good contraction pattern it wasn't true labor. Husband was upset and I was OK until I got in the shower tonight and the disappointment hit me hard. I've done this twice with no baby. I'm not sure how much more I can take.

This felt just like the last time. The urge to vomit, not feeling well, regular contractions, trip to hospital were all the same. Also the same were slightly dehydrated, urine culture that didn't indicate UTI but was yucky (whatever that means) and eating a turkey sandwich for lunch the day of or slightly before all this happened.

My best guess is that I'm allergic or aggravated by something used to process the turkey at the grocery store deli. I've had it twice since we moved/got pregnant and both times ended up in the hospital. My body feels sick and tries to get rid of the yuck including starting contractions to get baby out. Lots of water later and I seem to be better.

I should be holding a baby by now. I should be in the hospital deciding on a name and who he/she looks more like. I should be through with labor and working on recovery.

I know eventually we will have this baby, but it was a hard day and I'm tired.