I love you two

There are about a million reasons why two ROCKS!  Two has been by far the best age we've encountered so far.   Babyhood was nice and cute, but that half baby, half kid age from one to two nearly killed all three of us.  But two, he's now a full blown kid, and I couldn't love it more.  Yea, there's a lot more whining and tantrums and screams of "NO!! MINE!! MEANIE!! BOOBOO!" but for the most part, he's turned into a fully funtioning person who can communicate and follow directions and likes to be helpful.

My absolute favorite part of this age is he knows what he's saying.  A few months ago I could prompt him to say "I love you Mommy", but he didn't know what he was saying.  It was still cute as could be, but lacked any emotion.  Today though, today I experienced the best moment I think any parent could ever have.  I was sleeping in, John had stayed home from work and got up with Alex.  At around 8:30 or so, Alex snuck into my room, climbed up into bed with me and jumped around me saying "Mommy!  I love you Mommy!"  John came and got him and I stayed in bed another hour.  When I finally got up at 9:30, I came into the family room and Alex ran up to me and said "Mommy, I missed you!"

You pour so much love into a kid, from day one you love them non-stop and get very little back.  In the early days you have to settle for head bobbing and gas smiles, then they grow up a little and you get laughs and hugs, but when they can say it, and MEAN it, nothing is better than that.

Ick

I've been feeling pretty proud of myself lately.  I've pretty much got a handle on this stupid "morning sickness" that has been controlling my life for over a month, and I've been able to do things like, take a daily shower (It requires so much... well, standing), brush my teeth without vomiting at least once a day, go out grocery shopping and even holiday shopping!  The world is my oyster!  And then I find myself racing out of a k-mart today after buying Alex his snow boots and some big frumpy sweatshirts for me and puking in the parking lot in full view of several unsuspecting holiday shoppers.  Alex began to scream in terror and tried to run away from me.  While gagging and heaving, I chased him down, locked him in the van and continued to loose my morning donut right there beside my car.  Even more horrifying was discovering that said donut had splashed onto a neighboring car.  Luckily I carry wet wipes.  I cleaned up the mess and hightailed out of there.  Yes, my first puke-and-run incident.  Pregnancy is so undignified.

A true fan

Me:  "We are SO seeing Sweeny Todd, I am SO EXCITED!"
Him:  "What?"
Me:  "You know, the new Tim Burton / Johnny Depp movie"
Him:  "I wonder if Tim Burton knows there are other actors in the world"
Me:  "Hey, when you've found the perfect one, why mess with a good thing?"
Him:  "Hmmm"
Me:  "And it's a musical!  Oh my God, I'm so excited!  You know, I'll see anything Tim Burton does with Johnny Depp.  LOVE THEM!"
Him:  "What about 'Tim Burton's Two Hours of Anus'"
Me:  "Well, if it's Johnny Depp's anus, TOTALLY!"

favorite words and phrases Alex has been using lately

• "You okay?"  to which you are supposed to reply "I'm okay, are you okay?" and he says  "I'm okay." 



• "Watch Miffbustahs"  which means he wants me to turn on Mythbusters on the Discovery Channel



• "papayak"  dried pieces of papaya



• "Duckie fahted"  When he squeezes his rubber ducky underwater in the bathtub and it makes bubbles



• "Daddy is a piggy!"  When John steals his food and / or drinks



• "poop poop"  this is a train.  No matter how much John tries to get Alex to learn that a train is called a choo choo, Alex insists that no, it is in fact a "poop poop".  So we go on the train to the city "Ride poop poop!"  I take away a toy train "My poop poop!  Gimmie poop poop!"  or the train doesn't go anymore "Boken poop poop"

Black Friday

After waking up this morning and eating breakfast I realized that not only was I able to keep my blueberry eggos down, but I've been able to keep my blueberry eggos down for THREE WHOLE DAYS.  People, you have no idea what this means to me.  The last couple of days I've only had mild nausea easily controlled by nibbling on something throughout the day.  I feel a little more icky at night, but I'm able to take my anti-nausea / knock-me-out-for-the-next-four-hours pill and sleep most of the night without incident.

Since I was feeling so great today, I decided I'd get a jump on my Christmas shopping and maybe take advantage of some sales.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I dragged Alex to the local religious book store to buy some appropriately religiousy gifts for my family members of faith.  I figured I couldn't go wrong with something bibley for those crazy Christian relatives of mine.  Alex did not find this store in any way interesting or fun, which are my sentiments exactly, but at least I don't begin howling in protest the minute I set foot inside.  He did manage to glean some entertainment value out of some Book of Mormon action figures and desperately begged for me to buy him "Samuel the Lamanite" or "cape guy" as he referred to him.  My refusal to do so resulted in more howling, kicking and screaming, at which time I decided I was done.  Surprisingly, I left with nothing of real religious significance.  I bought a Hello Kitty coloring book, a rocket ship model kit, a gift card and a "Happy Holidays" sign the cashier talked me into getting for $4.

We were then off to the mall.  We worked our way through the crowds with Alex squirting people with his juice box occasionally.  I looked in almost every single store and kiosk and couldn't find a single thing I wanted to get for anybody.  After about an hour Alex was sick of sitting in his stroller so he stood up and screamed "GO HOME!  MOMMY GO HOME!!!"  He cried all the way out of the mall, through the parking lot and the entire drive home. 

Once home we had some lunch, but Alex's bad mood persisited even after John came home for his lunch hour.  Alex screamed that he wanted water.  I'd give him a glass of water, into which he'd toss a matchbox car.  (This is his thing, putting cars into glasses of water.  I don't get it.) I'd take away the cup and he'd howl at me and fall to the ground sobbing.  After John left for work again, I put him down for a nap and he passed out immediately.

I think I'm done shopping for the day.  Maybe tomorrow I'll leave Mini-Grinch at home with John and try again.

Happy Thanksgiving

I'm supposed to be in California visiting my relatives and eating my Aunt Linda's famous biscuits.  But, sadly, I didn't feel well enough to ride in a car for 12 hours each way, so I opted to stay home and be the host kitchen for my mother-in-law's Thanksgiving dinner.  I got off real easy on that one.  All I had to do was provide a reasonably clean house and buy drinks and a veggie tray.  What I didn't realize when I got up this morning to do some light housework was that my home hasn't had a thorough cleaning for over a month and every surface in my house is covered in a thick layer of yuck.  The good news is today appears to be a good day, nausea and vomiting wise, as all I've had was a little grumble in my belly.  So today, I guess I'll be thankful for that.

the crying game

I thought I remembered everything about pregnancy.  I mean, after all, I was pregnant just over two years ago.  I remembered being sick, I remembered getting huge, I remember every single detail of my labor and delivery.  But somehow I'd forgotten, or blocked out, the hormonal / emotional roller coaster that is being a pregnant woman.

I will cry at ANYTHING.  Those Fidelity commercials.  All episodes of "A Baby Story".  That article in Time magazine about Hillary Clinton.  Just last night John got me a green twin Popsicle out of the freezer and broke it in half for me on the corner of the counter.  My eyes welled up with tears because I couldn't believe he'd be so sweet as to do that for me.

At the same time, however, I've got a short fuse on my anger.  Unfortunately, John gets the brunt of it.  Of course.  I remember last week actually yelling at John because he wasn't sick.  I mean really, it's HIS baby too.  The least he could do is be a little bit miserable.  Here I am, throwing up every day, so nauseated I can barely move and he's feeling well enough to play racquetball!  That bastard!

The good news is I'm lucky enough to have a husbad who loves me anyway.  Despite my manic moods.  Which, of course makes me cry. 

Looking good

We had our first doctor appointment for the pregnancy this morning.  I asked John to come with me because, frankly, I'm a nervous wreck when I'm pregnant.  I can't help but imagine all manner of horrible things being wrong with the baby, if there is a baby at all.  I know better than to do this.  It serves no purpose other than to make me stress out, but I do it anyway.  I was like this when I was pregnant with Alex too.  Interestingly, our first pregnancy, the one I miscarried, I was cool as can be.  Which made it all the more shocking to have it end like it did.

So we're in the waiting room and I'm trying to fill out some paperwork, and my hands are shaking.  I can't remember any answers to the questions on the form.  I can't remember how much Alex weighed when he was born, or what insurance I have.  What's my middle initial again?  Finally we're called in and led to the ultrasound room.  We're told I don't need to have an internal exam and John breathes a sigh of relief that he doesn't have to witness anyone poking around my nethers for a few more months.

As soon as the ultrasound probe touches my stomach, we see the baby immediately.  It's wiggling it's little arms and legs and it actually looks like a tiny miniature baby. This is a stark contrast to Alex who at his 10 week ultrasound made absolutely no movement whatsoever.  Alex looked like a little blob of gum with a flashing white dot for a heart.  We couldn't tell his head from his butt at 10 weeks.  This baby, with the waving and kicking, it was obvious.  Any worries or concerns about this pregnancy were instantly washed away.  Clearly, this kid, it's gonna be just fine.  Though, as my mom pointed out, if it's this hyper in utero, we're in serious trouble when it's a toddler!  And I thought I had my hands full with Alex!

Our official due date is June 16th.  John's excited about the prospect of sharing his birthday (June 17th) with his youngest child.  I'm obviously thrilled to know that I've got a real live (and kicking!) baby growing in there.  Even though I've been so sick, and to be honest, wondering why in the world I did this again on purpose, now, I'm excited.  I remember now why it's worth it.

A nice routine

Finally.  I've finally gotten a handle on this stupid morning sickness.  It's not over, oh no, not by a long shot, but I have managed to work out a nice system that seems to make the whole ordeal much more bearable.  It goes something like this:

• Wake up, walk sleepily to bathroom sink, dry heave



• Walk to kitchen, make Alex a breakfast shake, vomit bile into kitchen sink



• Sit on couch and watch Arthur



• At some point before Curious George comes on, dry heave into kitchen sink one more time



• Eat a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles



• Sit completely still on sofa until the end of Clifford the Big Red Dog (or if I'm feeling particularly sick, until after Super Why) while sipping ice water through a straw



• Start day making sure to eat something every hour on the hour until 6PM at which time eat nothing but Popsicles until bedtime.

Needless to say, Alex has become a television addict and I have gained back that five pounds I'd lost.  The good news is, I'm whining a lot less.  It's a worth while trade off I think.

Noodle of doom

Last night Alex and I were at a restaurant with my in-laws.  Alex was eating spaghetti (or "aggedee") while sitting on my lap.  After a while he started rubbing his nose.  Then he started to sneeze.  Big boogery sneezes with big boogery bubbles.  He kept up the sneezing throughout the rest of the dinner, continued on our drive home, and after we got home.  I figured he was having some allergic reaction to something.  It was getting so bad, I decided I couldn't put him to bed in this condition.  He was sitting on the couch with his lap full of tissues, boogers a-flowing.  This continued for an hour and I started thinking I should run to the store for some Benadryl until suddenly he gave a big sneeze and a noodle, a three-inch-long spaghetti noodle, flew out of his nose and landed on the floor like a slimy boogery  worm.  Alex rubbed his nose, gave a satisfied sigh and flopped back on the couch.  I just looked at the noodle in disbelief.  How in the world could he have threaded a three-inch long noodle into his nose without me noticing? 

The things I do...

When Alex gets a "boo boo" (and he gets a lot of them), he immediately announces "BOO BOO!!" and runs over, presents the boo boo to either John or me and asks us to "kiss boo boo".  Some boo boo's only require a small peck, while more painful boo boo's require quite a bit of smooching to fix.  I like this arrangement.  Not only is is insanely cute, but it helps him get over his boo boos fairly quickly.  The crying almost always ends just before the last kiss is planted.  I didn't think there was a possible downside.  That is, until he bit his tongue today and followed me around with his drooly and bloody tongue hanging out demanding "Kith boo boo tongue KITH BOO BOO TONGUE!"

Of course I did.  He's my son, and he needed his mommy's magic boo boo fixing kisses.  But, eeew.

No NaBloPoMo for me :(

I so wanted to participate in NaBloPoMo this month, however, I've decided since I can't even manage to take a shower every day recently, posting on my blog every day would be next to impossible.  That and every post would likely say something like:

I'm sick.  Sick, sick, sick.  I'm never, ever, ever, ever, ever getting pregnant ever, ever, ever, ever again.  Ever. 

On that note, I have to say that this "morning sickness" has gotten completely out of hand.  It went from uncomfortable but manageable, to miserable but manageable for small periods of time to complete and total misery 24 hours a day.  It's gotten so bad that today I called my doctor and was given a presciption for an anti-nausea medication.  I took it an hour ago and while I still feel nauseated, I have managed to keep a cup of chicken noodle soup down so far. It's got to be part sleeping pill though, because I am having serious trouble keeping my eyes open right now.

I've lost five pounds in the last two weeks, which isn't all that uncommon for early pregnancy, but for me, it's very strange.  I gained 10 pounds in the first trimester with Alex.  This tells me I really must be feeling much worse this time around and I'm not just being wimpy.

Anyhow, posting will likely be light until I start feeling a little bit better.