Battle of wills

There is a small phone book sitting on the pathway leading to our front door.  It's been there, oh, maybe four days or so.  Neither of us have picked it up and brought it inside because we both feel it's the other's responsibility. John feels that it falls within my domain of home maintenance.  I feel that since I don't bend at the waist anymore, and I don't squat unless it's a dire situation, clearly, he should pick it up.  We can both be so bull headed that it's possible this battle of wills could go on until the phone book disintegrates into pulp from being watered by the sprinklers every night.  Mature huh?  Can you believe we're allowed to raise children?

State of the cervix - 38 weeks

Maybe I'm supposed to be shy about constantly updating the internet about my cervical changes, but perhaps too bad for you internet, I could talk about my cervix all day long with no shame.  That said, this week, there are no changes to report.  I am still dilated to one centimeter and I'm 50% effaced.  The doctor checked my chart and confirmed that I'm more or less progressing at the same rate as I did with Alex (by 38 weeks I was 1 cm and 60% effaced).  It seems the best I could hope for is to have the baby naturally by his due date of June 16th. 

And then there's that June 9th induction date to discuss.  I've had a week to worry about being induced and I have to admit, I'm totally chickening out.  My labor and delivery with Alex went off without a hitch.  I went into labor naturally and aside from the disappointing-only-worked-for-two-hours-out-of-the-36-that-I-was-in-labor epidural, I required no other intervention.  What if the baby's not really ready?  What if my body isn't really ready?  I don't want to make the labor and delivery any harder than it needs to be.  I'm leaning towards just sucking it up and waiting it out (and giving all my family and friends earplugs so they don't have to listen to me whining) and let things go their own natural course.  Of course, I'm keeping my induction date on the schedule for June 9th, just in case.

Kid sick. Mom guilt-ridden.

Sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake.  Alex's odd behavior Wednesday, sleeping in yesterday... both red flags saying "HE'S SICK YOU NITWIT!"  He woke up yesterday morning with red goopy swollen eyes and a runny nose. So off to the doctor we went with me avoiding his eyeballs like the plague because YUCK!  What if it's pinkeye?

At the doctor's office, he charmed the pants off of everyone from the patients in the waiting room to the nursing staff.  As miserable and pathetic as he looked with big puffy swollen weepy eyes and a constant booger-fall coming out of his nose, he was smiley and sweet, batting his mile-long eye lashes at everyone and making sure to announce several times that "I have goopy eyeballs.  I go to da doctor"

Turns out it's not pinkeye but a raging sinus infection so bad as to make his eyes leak boogers.  No wonder he was miserable on Wednesday.  So much for my theory that my son and I are so connected that he's feeling my pain.  No, poor little guy had his own pain to deal with, and I can't believe I dragged him around a farm for two hours with what must have been a massive headache to say the least.  Bring on the mommy guilt.  Thankfully he's now on an antibiotic and as of last night, his eyes are already quite a bit less puffy and goobery. 

Missed opportunity

I woke up at the usual 6:30 this morning, fully expecting my family to follow suit shortly.  Not the case today.  John, who is now going to work a full hour later than before, didn't get up until 7:30 and Alex is STILL asleep as I type this.  Now I'm a little mad because I could be sleeping right now.  SLEEPING!

Frustration

We've had a rough morning Alex and I.  Since he woke up this morning he's been a big emotional volcano.  Constant crying and tantrums despite the fact that we went on what was supposed to be a fun outing to the farm with some friends, he spent the entire two hours we were there in constant meltdown mode.  Nothing made him happy.  Not a new toy tractor (which only lasted an hour before it broke), not a pony ride, not a wagon ride, not seeing chickens or goats or llamas.  He didn't want to play with his friends (highly unusual), he didn't want to do anything but collapse in a boneless sobbing heap every five minutes. He was miserable for unknown reasons and no amount of cuddling, candy, toys or friends would console him.

I suspect he's picking up on my own stress and frustration and being two and a half, he doesn't know how to express his emotions other than to completely loose it occasionally.  I've actually noticed something was going on with him for a while now because he's become inseparable from his favorite blankies and sucking his thumb constantly, where previously those were strictly nightime/naptime comforts.  No matter how hard I try, I know I'm showing much less patience with him and it's painfully obvious I don't have the energy to keep up with him anymore.  This is not how I want to spend my last couple of weeks alone with my first boy. 

I don't know if this will make any sense, but when I talk about being miserable this pregnancy, it's not so much the pregnancy that's making me miserable, it's that I'm not able to be the mom I should be to Alex, and that makes me miserable.  Being sore and tired and huge and cumbersome isn't fun, but taken alone, it's manageable.  Being all those things while trying to chase after a very energetic two year old is downright exhausting and nearly impossible some days.  I so want to chase him around the park and pick him up and help him pretend he's an airplane.  I want to get on the ground and build mud pies with him and roll down grassy hills and play tag.  Instead I hobble around frustratingly slow and I yell at him when he runs off ahead of me because I worry that I won't be able to catch him (I can barely keep up with him when I'm not pregnant).  I rarely pick him up unless I have to because it's painful for me.  The only time I really carry him around anymore is when he's in trouble and that makes us both grumbly.

I know the arrival of baby brother will bring new challenges, not the least of which will be sleeplessness and what will surely feel like non-stop breastfeeding.  However, having the baby will give me the ability to get back to myself again physically.  In fact, I've got big plans to get into much better shape (don't I always have big plans though).  Just as much as I'm looking forward to meeting baby brother, I'm also looking forward to leaving baby brother with Daddy and taking my Alex out for some real fun with Mommy.  We both need some real one on one time without the baby or the belly.

Nothing much

I'm struggling to think of something to post about.  I refuse to spend the next couple of weeks writing about how much I wish I'd have the baby already.  That's getting old, even to me.  Our long weekend was mostly uneventful, John did yardwork and played handyman by fixing our guest room toilet.  I managed to tap into some nesting energy and cleaned the kitchen and family room, but pooped out before I got to the rest of the house.  We missed out on any Memorial Day BBQ action due to bad weather, but did have JP and Steph over (though, they brought the food) and watched movies and played Mario Kart. 

Today Alex and I were supposed to meet some friends for swimming, but I couldn't bring myself to go out in public in my ugly maternity swimming suit.  I took him to the dinosaur museum instead.  He met a little girl he thought was his cousin Lily (she didn't look like Lily at all other than she was a girl about the right age and didn't have much hair).  He kept taking her by the hand and showing her the different exhibts "Yeeyee, dis is a pitty shell" (Lily, this is a pretty shell) "Dis is a dinosaur Yeeyee!  RAWR!", "Dis is teef!  Dinosaur teef!  RAWR!"  It was unclear whether or not she appreciated or even wanted the guided tour.  She did seem confused as to why he kept calling her "Yeeyee" (he still can't say "L" sounds very well and substitutes a "Y" sound).  He is going to loose his mind when he finds out that the real "Yeeyee" is going to come to visit next month.

John started his new job today and I can't wait to hear how it went!  I'm sure it'll go fine.  Hopefully they're taking it easy on him today so he can get settled into his new office and meet some of his new coworkers.  I feel like I'm more excited about his job change than I normally would be.  Maybe it's because I really do miss being in the workforce so I'm kind of having a career vicariously through him.  Also, he's now in my world.  Doing what I used to do.  That makes me all the more interested in his job. 

Nothing much else to report.  Hopefully I can think of something interesting to write about soon!

Night at the races

JP and Stephani invited John, Alex and me to go to the drag races last night.

Normally, drag racing would not be an event John and I would jump at the chance to attend.  It's not really our thing, but we were excited to go because cars?  That's totally Alex's thing.  We had high expectations about how Alex would react to seeing real live race cars.  I predicted that his head would explode from excitement.  We took a picture to capture Alex's first drag racing experience:

Um, yea.  SO not what we were expecting.  Turns out it was a bad night to take him because he hadn't napped and spent the afternoon playing with Grandma Diane's dog Fancy requiring him to take a dose of Benadryl (he's allergic to dogs).  Kid was asleep by the time we got out of our driveway.  We figured a short nap on the drive would make him nice and excited once we got there, but unfortunately, it just made him pissed off that the revving engines were waking him up.  We bought him some foam earplugs and he slept through almost the entire thing.  I did catch him peeking at the cars once or twice, but for the most part he had his head buried in my chest snoring away.

John and I were surprised that we were enjoying the races ourselves.  Turns out drag racing is pretty fun to watch, especially when they brought out the jet cars and almost made our ear drums burst.  I am not, in any way, a car person, but even I have to admit I got excited about the jet cars.  All in all, even though Alex missed the whole thing, we had a good time.

Video taken by JP:

One F&%*ing centemeter. ONE!

My 37 week doctor appointment brought me good news and bad news.  The good news is the baby is still head down and lower in my pelvis, so he's not likely to do any more flipping during his stay in utero.  The bad news is, my cervix is stuck at one centimeter.  One measly centimeter!  All that walking, all that spicy food (and the accompanying heartburn), all that unproductive sex (ok, maybe that one wasn't that bad) for nothing.  Those methods to kick start labor are a crock!  Though, it's not like I didn't know that to begin with.

When my doctor asked me if I would like to be induced early, I was only a little surprised to hear myself say "YES!  OH GOD, PLEASE YES! Can we do it today?"  The doctor told me that no, we couldn't do it today, that he was only willing to fudge the date by a week, so I've now got an induction on the books for June 9th.  I now officially have an exit strategy. 

I don't want to be induced.  I really don't.  But the feeling I get when someone asks me "when are you due?" is almost too much to bear.  I can't even just tell people "June 16th".  No, that date makes me want to cry. I always find myself saying "My official due date is June 16th, but I'm REALLY hoping I'll have him earlier.  Like today."  I never felt this way the first time around.  Sure, my last week was rough, but I never really got the feeling that every single day I spent pregnant was draining me of my very will to live.  (Yea, I know, melodramatic much?).  I don't know why it's so different this time.  Before I'm about to attend a social gathering, I say to myself "Don't whine, don't complain, be happy, happy, happy!"  But I can't seem to control my reaction when anyone asks how I'm doing.  Before I can stop it, a string of "boo hoo, poor me, I'm miserable, GAH will this ever end???" erupts from my mouth.  I hate being this way.

My plan is to keep my chin up and trudge forward to June 8th.  If I wake up that morning and really feel like I can't possibly go on any longer, I'll go ahead with the induction the next day.  Otherwise, I'll cancel and keep on waiting.  His official due date is June 16th, but the ultrasound due date was June 13th.  Alex was born on his due date, so chances are, I'll go into labor naturally sometime during the week of June 9th anyway.   If I wake up on June 16th still pregnant, all bets are off.  Induction, here I come! 

Why it's nice to have men around

Where would you like me to put this Mommy?

He even helped me put it together and lectured me on the dangers of putting small objects in my mouth when I was holding a screw in my teeth, he yanked it out and yelled at me "NO MOMMY!  NOT IN YOUR MOUF!"

He's not abused or diseased, I swear!

Now that it's such nice weather, Alex is wearing sleeveless shirts and shorts.  I forget about all of Alex's skin issues until we go out in public, and now that he's showing more skin, people feel the need to bring it to my attention.  I am so used to him having eczema patches and bruises and bandaids and scratches that I barely even notice them anymore.  Not only does he have the eczema trouble, but he's also a walking booboo.  I swear he can't go more than 10 minutes without getting a bruise or a scraped knee these days.  The other day we were at the park and another mother came up to me and pretty much gave me the third degree (which I don't really mind, I mean, he was playing with her son and he could very well have some contaigous skin eating disease for all she knew)

"What are those sores on his legs?"
"Oh, that's just eczema, he's had trouble with it all his life"
"And the bandaid on his arm?"
"Another eczema patch that he scratched and it got irritated, so I put antibiotic on it with a bandaid so it doesn't get infected"
"I see he's got another bandaid on his knee"
"Yea, he was out getting the mail with his daddy and was running along behind him and tripped and fell and scraped his knee"
"Is that where the bruises on his legs came from?"
"No, he seems to always have bruises on his shins.  I think it's from the way he sits on the wooden stool in the kitchen"
"Is that a bruise on his shoulder?"
"No, that's a hemangioma.  He's had that since birth, though when he was born it was dark purple and really puffy.  It's gone down quite a bit and is almost the color of his skin now.  The doctors think it will be gone by the time he's ten or so."
"And his thumb and wrist look like they're sore, is that eczema too?"
"Well, that patch on his wrist is eczema, but his thumb is just chapped from him being a big time thumb sucker, and before you ask, that's why his chin is chapped because he's constantly drooling with his thumb in his mouth."
"Sounds like the poor little guy has a lot of skin issues to deal with"
"Yea, but the worst is the leoprosy"
"What?!"
"I'm just kidding"

Operation GET THIS KID OUT!

I know, I'm just over 36 weeks and I have no business whining about how I am sick of being pregnant (though I've been whining the last six months or so, why stop now?), even so, I am.  Doctor says It's safe to deliver any time now and I am so ready to get this show on the road.  I want to meet my son already!  Alex keeps yelling at my bellybutton that he wants toys.  And, it would be really nice to have the baby before John gets too involved in his new job so it would be easier for him to take time off.  So, I've been doing a little online research about natural ways to induce labor and here's what I've found:

• Walking (gravity and movement helps bring the baby down into position)



• Sex (semen contains prostaglandins which can stimulate contractions)



• Acupressure (should be done by a trained professional)



• Nipple stimulation



• Driving on bumpy roads



• Swinging (as in playground swinging, apparently the same idea as walking)



• Talk to the baby and make sure he feels welcome



• Eating tropical fruits such as kiwi, mango and pineapple (they contain an enzyme that may cause mild contractions)



• Drinking red raspberry leaf tea



• Eating spicy food



• Castor oil, evening primrose oil, or blue and black cohosh (At this point, I'm not desperate enough to try any of these methods as these can have some pretty nasty side effects and possible complications)

I think I'll start up my daily walk again.  I'd stopped walking regularly about a month or so ago because I was having a lot of Braxton-Hicks contractions.  Seems like a good opportunity to put on those walking shoes again now though.  I've already told John that I'll be requiring regular "prostaglandin injections" and I plan to work him hard the next few weeks.  He's all excited about it now, but I predict after two weeks he'll be locking himself in the bathroom begging me to give him just one night off.  Sorry Honey, your fertile seed got me into this situation and if it can help get me out, you're going to have to give it up!  This weekend when I go grocery shopping, I plan to stock up on tropical fruits and red raspberry leaf tea.  I might also get the ingredients to make some spicy enchiladas.

I'm not sure about nipple stimulation, there aren't many good descriptions of how it should be done, if different than what would normally be occurring during sex.  There are warnings though, that it could cause excessively long and strong contractions, so I think I'll hold off on the nipple twiddling until I'm really desperate.  Similarly, driving around on bumpy roads sounds more painful than helpful, and like I said above, I'm just not ready to resort to castor oil.  If I go overdue though (GOD FORBID!) you bet I'll be drinking it straight from the bottle!  Diarrhea be damned!

As for talking to the baby, well, it seems a little "touchy feely" to me, but I'm willing to give it a try.  I mean, he could very well be feeling scared of coming out.  A lot of my day is spent telling Alex "NO!", yelling across the room that he'd better not be doing whatever it is I think he's doing, and Alex screaming, crying, or squealing like a magoo, which I suppose could sound pretty intimidating to a fetus.  I'll try to allocate some time every day to soothing conversations with my belly.  I'll tell him about his room, about the weather, about how much we love him and can't wait to meet him.  Sure, he'll be out in no time!

The waddle

I must have the most pathetic pregnant waddle in the history of pregnant women.  We were at Kmart last night letting Alex pick out a cheap toy car as a reward for being a good boy while getting his hair cut (even though we went to the expensive children's hair salon where he got to sit in an airplane chair, watch the movie Cars, play with a bucket of toys, got a balloon, a sucker AND a bag of stretchy rubber snakes, we still felt the need to reward his good behavior.  Gotta reinforce these things you know!) and I had to pee, as usual.  I left the boys in the toy section and on my long waddle to the restroom three different women said something about it.  The first lady I waddled by simply said she hoped I was due soon, the second woman patted me on the shoulder and said she remembered being hugely pregnant with her kids and good luck, and the third woman actually walked with me the rest of the way to the restroom because she said I looked like I was in terrible pain and she wanted to make sure I got there ok.

I am in much more pain while walking (or really any time I have to move my legs) this pregnancy than I was with Alex.  This is due to my having developed Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction (SPD) this time around, which is just a fancy way of saying that the ligaments holding my pelvic bones together has loosened up so much as to cause the bones to move which in turn causes pain.  Loosening of the pelvic ligaments is normal during pregnancy, but I guess too much movement is the problem.  Apparently this is more common in second or later pregnancies.  Luckily, it should go away after I have the baby.  Until then I suppose I have no choice but to shuffle around like an elderly woman.  I'm considering getting a walker with yellow tennis balls on the feet, just to make sure I look as pathetic as possible.

Promoted

I've been dying to post about this for weeks now, but have been forbidden to do so until it was official.  Well, today, it's official!  John was offered a new position with his company.  He'll now be a Senior Product Manager (his current job is as a Supervisor for customer service reps).  This is a big deal.  It's been in the works for something like six weeks and really all we've been thinking about and talking about for the last month.

From what I understand, this new position will be very similar to what I used to do for a living (only better pay, better benefits and a cooler title), working with the IT department in creating and rolling out new software (not the actual eBay website apps, but the inhouse software the customer service reps use).  I'm surprised it never occurred to me before, but it is a job that John is perfectly suited for.  He has excellent written and verbal communication skills and his attention to detail borders on an OCD disorder.  He will kick ass in this job.  He'll be fantastic!  Particularly exciting is that this new position takes his career in a completely different direction than he'd been headed.  It's a whole new world opening up to him and an amazing opportunity to gain new skills and experience.  I couldn't possibly be more proud of him.

This is the big change at his work that I was alluding to in an earlier post about him not being able to take his paternity leave as planned.  He will start working in his new position the day after Memorial Day, and I could have the baby any time in the next four weeks.  Obviously they don't want him to take so much time off so soon after starting work, not to mention, they are busy and need him working through the summer. It's really hard to be upset about him not getting the time off because a) HE GOT PROMOTED!  WOO HOO! and b) he still has those five weeks available and we're now planning a big family vacation in the Fall (a vacation we'll now be able to afford with the increase in pay that comes along with this promotion).

I hope he will write about it on his blog (Honey, UPDATE YOUR BLOG!!!), because he's REALLY excited about it, as he should be. 

Flipper

I have to admit, the last two weeks of contemplating a planned c-section had me believing that hey, that wouldn't be too bad!  36 hour labor compared to a 15 minute surgery?  Knowing when the baby would be born instead of having to wait and wait and wait...  Being done with this whole baby having business in two weeks instead of the prospect of being pregnant for another month?  When I was told at this morning's appointment that the baby is now head down again, I almost cried.

The baby is really high up right now and my amniotic fluid levels are high, so there's still a chance he could flip again considering he's so active lately.  The good news is I'm dilating, if you can count one centimeter as dilated.  I can safely have this baby any second now, so I'm starting a list of all of the activities I can engage in to get labor started immediately.  Long hikes, driving along bumpy roads, eating spicy foods, marathon sex... None of this worked last time, but damn if I'm not going to give it my best try!

When parade floats attack

This shirt is what happens when you've been wearing nothing but your husband's ratty old t-shirts for two months.  You then find yourself at Wal-mart and spy a colorful maternity shirt for ten dollars.  You look down at the toddler booger-stained college football t-shirt stretched across your belly and think how cute and springy you might look wearing that shirt.  You buy the shirt and go home, shower, blow dry your hair, pull on your only pair of maternity jeans that still fit and realize that you can't possibly look more conspicuous.  This shirt has "HEY!  LOOK AT ME!!  I'M PREGNANT!" all over it.  It's the shirt that says, "yes, I'm as big as a parade float, I might as well dress like one too."

Wal-mart Maternity Chic

Conversations with a two year old

Alex: "knock knock"
Me:  "Who's there?"
Alex:  "baby poop"  <<giggles>>
Me:  "Baby poop who?"
Alex:  "BABY POOOOOOP!"  <<laughs hysterically>>
Me:  "that's not funny"
Alex:  "is funny!  BABY POOOOOOOP!"
Me:  "you're not going to think it's funny when we're up to our elbows in the stuff in a few weeks"
Alex:  "BABY POOOOOOOOP!"

:::

Alex hasn't cared to talk about baby brother for a good month or so lately.  When I lift up my shirt to show him the baby kicking or ask him about baby brother he'll say "No baby budder" and pull my shirt back down over my belly.  So, in an effort to get him interested again, I thought I'd bribe him.

Me:  "Alex, baby brother talked to me today and he said he wants to bring you a present when he gets here"
Alex:  "A peasant?"
Me:  "Yes, when baby brother gets here in a couple of weeks, he'll have a present for you"
Alex:  "Toys?"
Me:  "Yes, he'll bring some toys.  What do you want him to bring for you?"
Alex:  "I want geocaching toys!"  <<we'd just gone geocaching that afternoon and he loved the idea of having a toy trade>>
Me:  "Ok, we'll get you some toys for geocaching"
Alex:  <<lifts up my shirt and talks into my bellybutton>>  "Baby budder, I want geocaching toys and a toy bag!  And a car!  And geocaching toys!  And a toy bag!"
Me:  "In a couple of weeks, baby brother will bring you some geocaching toys in a toy bag"
Alex:  "Baby budder, come out NOW!  Come out now and bing me geocaching toys!"

Loss

Last night, while I was off enjoying a small baby shower a couple of friends threw me, John was receiving news that his paternal grandmother passed away.  Sadly, she had been ill and suffering for a long time, living a nursing home.  The last time John went to visit her, he came back saying that he couldn't do that again, that it was awful.  She was unresponsive, just laying in her bed looking at the ceiling.  It's difficult to watch someone you love be forced to live out the rest of their lives like that.  Grandma Dillier was very important to John, and thankfully, before she got too ill or started loosing her memories, he'd made every effort to maintain a close relationship with her (he was known to just hop in the car and drive up to Idaho where she lived to spend the weekend with her as a surprise, and I was always getting after him saying "you can't just show up for the weekend unannounced, it's rude!"  She seemed to love it though, which is why he did it).  I think that's all you can do really, make sure that you appreciate the good times with your loved ones while they are still physically and mentally with us.  I asked John last night how he was feeling about her death and he replied "I've already been missing her for a long time.  Tonight doesn't change that."

I feel lucky that I was able to get to know her a bit myself and she was even able to enjoy Alex as a baby before her mind really began to fail her. 

Goodbye Grandma Dillier.  I hope now you're able to find some peace.

Solution

At the monthly mom's club breakfast yesterday three different people throughout the morning told me I looked tired.  I am tired.  Of course, it didn't help that Alex was being a colossal shit head the entire time.  He was running wild around the bakery, he was throwing toys, pulling hair, purposely knocking over people's coffee, crawling under the table and biting people's legs, knocking over empty chairs, throwing napkin dispensers...  You name it, he was finding new and interesting ways to piss me right the hell off.  It didn't end when we got home either.  He found himself on the timeout chair more than he wasn't yesterday.  This behavior is becoming more and more common for him.  He's testing his limits, testing my very last nerves, all the while giggling maniacally.  My friend says it's the age.  That this is what happens at two and a half (and I thought one and a half was a bitch!).  I have to wonder though, if he is sensing that I'm tired and weak and just don't have the energy to keep up with him, therefore, he's taking the opportunity to go crazy.  Maybe a little of both.

Sadly, even though I'm almost done being pregnant, things are not going to get easier for quite a while.  If I think it's hard to keep up with him now, what chance do I have when I'm sleep deprived, breastfeeding, holding a sleeping baby or otherwise unable to jump up and deal with his behavior?

John isn't going to be able to take his planned five weeks off for the baby.  We're hoping he'll still be able to take at least a week, but then he'll have to go back, leaving me alone all day with a newborn and Tyrannosaurus Alex.  We were talking today about putting Alex in daycare part time for a few weeks after the baby is born.  His behavior is noticeably better when he has a chance to play and run and interact with other kids, something he won't be likely to get for the first few weeks after baby brother arrives, I don't foresee my wanting to do many fun activities until we get into a good groove with the new baby.  I think a couple of hours of daycare could really make the difference between happy family life and sending me to the asylum.  So that's what I'll be doing this week, calling around and finding a good daycare program for Alex to try out.  Hopefully I'll find something that will be affordable for us and fun for him.  Since he's never been to a daycare before, I'll probably let him start going in the next couple of weeks, hopefully then I'll get a chance to finally get the house ready for the baby and maybe bank some z's.

Mommy's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all you moms and grandmas!

This will be the fourth year I'm eligible for mother's day if you count the year I was pregnant with Alex.  Even so, last year was the first year I really FELT like a mother because the first year really is just caretaking, after that you actually have to start parenting.  This year I felt not only like a mother, but I also felt that John should get down on his knees and worship me for being the life creating goddess that I am.

Sadly, this life creating goddess had to still get up at still-dark-out o'clock because Alex woke up from a bad dream, then at seven sharp he woke up for the day all bright eyed and bushy tailed and demanding "Wake up Mommy!" while bouncing on the bed.  Figuring it was Mother's Day and I was at that moment the epitome of motherhood (hugely pregnant, full bladder with a toddler bouncing on me), I rolled over and told him to bug his daddy about getting up.  John did what John usually does, which is to half heartedly tell Alex "lay down Buddy, let's sleep for a little while".  After a half hour of that I told them both to get out, I wanted to sleep in.  But unfortunately, my body didn't want me to sleep in, after another half hour of attempting to sleep, my bladder was achingly full and my stomach was growling like a grizzly bear, so, I got up to pee and make my family their Sunday waffles.

My cooking game was all off though this morning and I ended up burning the first batch, and while attempting to pick the crusty burnt remains out of my waffle iron, I complained that it was Mother's Day and damnit, someone else should be making ME waffles!  John then offered to take me out to breakfast if I gave him a haircut.  We ended up at IHOP just before the hordes of mother's day diners arrived.  A woman making balloon animals came to our table and made Alex an airplane which made his day, though ruined any chance of him eating his smiley face pancake.  It probably ruined the breakfast of the woman sitting in the booth behind him because he kept accidentally bonking her in the head with his balloon plane.  The highlight of breakfast for me was when the balloon lady walked by our table again, Alex, unprompted, leaned over John and said "Thank you balloon lady!" (it sounded more like "Tank you ba yoon yady!"). Such a polite one, my boy.

John asked me several times this morning if there was anything I wanted.  Something selfish, just for me.  The only thing I could think of was a pedicure.  Well, that's not true.  First I told him I wanted a puppy, but that idea got shot down immediately.  John was happy to hand over his credit card for someone else to rub my swollen feet though, and I went to my favorite walk-in pedicure salon where I got to sit in a massage chair, read an old issue of People Magazine and have someone pamper me from the knees down. It was delightful.

When I got home, I found that Alex had given me the Mother's Day gift of waiting until I was gone to have a nasty blow out poop requiring his Daddy to clean it up.

The boys are now downstairs watching a basketball game and later tonight we'll be taking John's mom out to dinner.  Tomorrow my mom is coming over for breakfast with Alex and me (let's hope I don't burn the waffles again!) and that will be the end of our Mother's Day festivities.

It occurred to me this afternoon while I was watching John do yard work and Alex "helping" him by picking rocks up one by one in his plastic shovel, that Mother's day isn't just about showing me appreciation, it's also an opportunity for me to appreciate the people who made me a mother in the first place. Without John, I wouldn't have Alex and without Alex, I wouldn't be a mom.  Being a mom is the biggest part of who I am now.  It informs everything I do.  It is a title I wear proudly.  I am very lucky in that I have an amazing husband and son who make my job as a mother very rewarding and fulfilling.  John told me during breakfast this morning "I just want you to know, I think you are a great mom. I'm happy you are the mother of my children."  This is probably the best thing he's ever said to me and the best mother's day gift he could ever give me. 

Uncertainty

Next week will bring me some much needed answers to a couple of questions that have been making me very nervous lately.  Ever since I found out the baby is breech and I may need a c-section, I've been understandably anxious.  And John may have some changes coming up at work that, among other things, could mean he won't be able to take his planned five weeks off when the baby is born.

Both events, the birth of our child, whether natural or surgical, and the possible changes in John's job are good things.  Great things!  But I don't do well with uncertainty, particularly when I'm obscenely pregnant and hormonal. 

Next week we will know if the baby's turned head down (incidentally, I think he may be laying sideways right now, hopefully in route to his final head first exit position).  If he has, great!  Plan A:  "Wait for Labor"  will immediately go into effect.  If he's still insisting on being butt down, I'm not messing around.  He had his chance to get with the program and I will schedule his eviction via c-section hopefully in the next three weeks.

We should also find out the details of the possible job changes for John next week.  Normally this wouldn't be a source of anxiety for me, but because these changes would occur at virtually the same time that we are expecting our child, it complicates matters a bit.  If John can't take the planned time off for the birth, I'm very nervous about being home alone with a toddler and a newborn baby.  I'm particularly freaking out about the prospect of being home alone with a toddler and a newborn baby after having my midsection hacked open for a c-section.

Now the c-section and John being unable to take time off are real possibilities, and if this is what we find out next week, I can deal with it.  It's just the not knowing that is causing all the trouble.  If I know this is the scenario we're going to encounter, then I can begin making plans to make it go as smoothly as possible.  Luckily, we should have both answers by next Friday.  But it will be a long week of wringing my hands and wondering how things will sort out.

Only Alex would complain

So, I made waffles this morning (home made, not Eggo.  I know!  Can you believe I actually cook?) as I do virtually every morning because Alex is in an all-waffle all-the-time phase right now and if I can make something he'll actually EAT, I'll gladly serve him up waffles three times a day every day until I die.  Today, stupidly, I thought I'd try something sneaky and butter his waffles in an attempt to add some calories and dairy into his diet (he hasn't ingested so much as a drop of milk in over a month).  When I presented the warm syrupy golden waffles to him, lovingly cut up into bite sized pieces he flipped out.

"I don't want ice cream on my waffles!"
"There is no ice cream on your waffles baby."
"I DON'T WANT ICE CREAM ON MY WAFFLES!"
"Ok, calm down, where is this ice cream?"

He pointed to a little blob of Brummel & Brown spread (made with natural yogurt!) on the very edge of one of the pieces of waffle.

"Sweetie, that's butter, it's good!"
"I no like ice cream."
"Sweetie, it's butter"
"I no like butter on my waffles!"
"Ok, fine"

I took away the plate and scraped off the offending blob of unmelted butter and returned the plate to him, which he then devoured.  My son is the only child I know who would actually COMPLAIN about having ice cream on his waffles.  I mean, really, the NERVE of me to put something evil like ice cream (or butter) on his waffle.  It may as well have been arsenic as far as he was concerned.

Yo Momma!

Alex:  "Yo Momma!"
Me:  "What?"
Alex:  "Yo Momma!"
Me:  "Did you just say 'Yo Momma' to me?"
Alex:  "Yep"
Me:  "Yo Momma to you then!"
Alex:  "I not Momma, I Ayex!"

Sleep peeing

I get up no less than six times a night to pee thanks to my itsty bitsy teeny weeny bladder.  I'm beginning to suspect though, that I may be getting up more often than that because in the middle of the night last night I woke up and found myself in the bathroom on the toilet.  Apparently I'm so used to getting up that I'm now able to do it, literally, in my sleep. 

Flashbacks

This actually happened a couple of weeks ago, but it so traumatized me that I haven't taken Alex back to the library since.  Alex asked to go "on da twain!" today, so I thought I'd take him on the light rail (Trax) to the big library in Salt Lake today, and oh the memories come flooding back.

All through the Fall and Winter we've been going to the library twice a week for puppet shows and story time.  Normally Alex behaves quite well. For a two and a half year old anyway.  Sadly, this particular time we went to the library, Mother Goose Story Time had been canceled, so I figured we'd hang out in the children's section for a while, I could read him a couple of books and we could pick out some books to take home.  This worked out for about 15 minutes before he started getting antsy.  I should have just left right then and there.  I shouldn't have insisted that we look through the children's music CD's.  Those extra two minutes apparently were completely unbearable for Alex who began to foam at the mouth and roll around on the ground screaming "I wanna go HOOOOOOME!"  I shouldn't have tried to check out the books and CD's, I should have just left, but I insisted that we go to the self check out and Alex could be "the card guy" (insert my library card into the machine).  When the machine took the card Alex completely lost it.  "MY CARD! MY CARD" he wailed as I tried to use the touch screen to check out our books.  He cried, he screamed, he flailed around like a maniac.  All this in a small quiet library. 

Everyone was giving me dirty looks, with good reason.  I was getting frustrated and angry myself so I leaned down to Alex and hissed at him "If you don't quiet down right now I am going to kick your butt".  I knew this wouldn't work.  It's a pretty stupid thing to say really since a) nothing but leaving the library was going to quiet him down and b) I've never once kicked Alex's butt and it was a completely empty threat.  Alex, however, seemed to take my threat seriously.  Unfortunately, he decided that instead of quieting down, he would get even louder and announce to the entire library exactly what I'd just said to him.  He looked right at me, right into my eyes and screamed "Don't kick my butt Mommy!  YOU CAN'T KICK MY BUTT!  NOOO!  DON'T KICK MY BUTT MOMMY!"  Horrified, I grabbed up Alex and our books and hightailed it out of there as fast as I could and I haven't been back since.

John never wanted to hear his son say this

"Daddy, I want yeyow man juice"
"You want what??"
"Yeyow man juice!"

John looks at me wondering if he'd just heard what he thought he'd heard.  I confirmed that yes, Alex was indeed asking for yellow man juice.  It's not as bad as it sounds though, he's really just asking for apple juice in his favorite sippy which happens to have The Man With The Yellow Hat from Curious George on it.  I never really thought anything of it because when he wants his other Curious George sippy he asks for "Monkey juice"  or his GO Diego GO sippy "Diego juice".  It just made sense to me that he called his Man With The Yellow Hat sippy "Yeyow man juice", but now that I think about it, it is a little disconcerting to hear a child ask for such a beverage.

How to make Alex happy

It's been a beautiful day today so we spent the majority of it in the backyard.  I figured out a very important thing though:

Alex + backyard + buckets of water + toys + nudity = happy child

We will miss you

Mr Sophisticated Griz, originally uploaded by mrsjwd9.

John's dad and step-mom's beloved dog Griz passed away yesterday. He was such a great guy and he will be sorely missed. In this family, our pets are important members of the family, and loosing someone as special as Griz Lee is devastating.

We were all lucky to have known him, and my heart breaks for his puppy-parents Joe and Jen who, no doubt, will miss him the most.

Bassackwards

I came home from my 34 week doctor appointment in tears this morning.  Nothing is wrong with the baby, everything is still going well, the baby is growing perfectly and is healthy, the only problem is that he's breech.  This came as an absolute shock to me because the doctor told me just two weeks ago that he was head down and engaged.  Apparently, he was either wrong, or the baby did a somersault between then and now. 

I'm inclined to believe he'd flipped on his own because last week John and I were laying in bed and I felt the baby twisting and turning around and when I felt my belly, there was a big hard lump sticking straight up (very much like that scene in Alien just before the creature bursts out of the guy's stomach).  At the time John thought it was the baby's head, it was certainly the right size and shape to be a head, but I'd assumed it was the baby's butt because I was under the impression that the head was located in my pelvis.  Turns out, it must have been the head.

So today I was whisked away to the ultrasound room to confirm that indeed my child's head is located just below my ribs and his butt is firmly lodged in my pelvis.  Oh, he's locked and loaded all right, just ass first.  The good news is I'm only at 34 weeks and my amniotic fluid levels are high giving the baby plenty of room to turn back around on his own should he feel so inclined.  The bad news is, he's only got two weeks to make that decision on his own or I may have to make it for him.

The doctor and I discussed the possibility of attempting to manually turn him at 36 weeks.  There are risks involved with this procedure that, should they occur, would require an emergency c-section, not to mention the fact that the doctor tells me it is a very painful procedure for the mother, and he's particularly concerned about me because I've got so much pelvic pain to begin with.  All that and there's no guarantee the procedure will work.  I could still end up needing a c-section anyway.

Driving home from the appointment I began to loose my cool a bit.  I'd never ever considered a c-section.  It just never occurred to me because my labor and delivery with Alex went so well.  All this time I'd been preparing for a similar birth experience and now I'm looking at a good chance of needing a c-section.  I know, a c-section isn't the end of the world, it's just not the way I imagined bringing my child into the world, not to mention trying to heal from major abdominal surgery while caring for a toddler and a newborn. 

John and I briefly discussed the situation before he had to leave for work this morning and we both agree that we're uncomfortable with any risk at all to our baby.  I'm not all that concerned about the pain involved in the procedure, I have a fairly high tolerance for pain, but I have a very low worry tolerance.  At the moment a planned c-section is what we're leaning toward.  But, we have two weeks to decide and we'll be doing a lot of talking and researching our options and risks until then.

Appreciation

I think there will come a time when I'll miss being pregnant.  As unimaginable as that seems to me now while I'm in the thick of it, I know that a year, two years, three... I'll look at my boys, no longer babies, and I'll long for that feeling of anticipation, newness, smallness, innocence, being needed.  I think one day I'll feel sad that I'll never again feel a baby kick me from the inside, or be able to surprise my husband with a positive pregnancy test, or meet my baby for the first time.  I won't get to fold itty bitty onesies and imagine what life will be like when there's a whole new person around.

John said something to me the other day that made me very sad.  He told me he didn't think that I appreciated our new son.  That all I do is complain about being pregnant and how awful and painful and uncomfortable it is.  And he's right in that I've been doing a hell of a lot of complaining, but he couldn't be more wrong about my appreciation of the life inside of me.  I may not be thrilled about the symptoms of pregnancy, but that doesn't mean that I'm not completely and totally in love with our youngest family member.  I'm very excited about this new baby.  I'm beyond thrilled to be able to give Alex a brother, I'm happy that we're expanding our family and adding a new layer, a new personality, a new happiness to our lives.  This baby will complete our family and that feels like just as momentous an occasion as when Alex made us a family to begin with.  This is such a special event.  A new person is about to join our family.  Is there anything bigger than that?  Is there any event more worthy of appreciation?   

With six weeks left, I am going to try harder to appreciate this experience.  Knowing that I won't be here again, knowing that time goes by so fast, I am going to try to live as much in the moment as I can.  I will relish every kick, every wiggle.  Instead of just throwing all the baby stuff into the new nursery, I'll really look at these little booties and feel how soft the blankets are and marvel at the teeny tiny diapers. 

These are the last few weeks where this baby and I will be one and the same.  These are the last few weeks I get to keep him all to myself.  Pretty soon he'll be out and he'll belong to the world, but for now, he's mine, he's all mine and that's a relationship I'll never have with my child again.  These are also the last few weeks where Alex is my one and only.  After this baby is born, it will be some time before he gets my undivided attention again.  It'll never be just him and me anymore and that's something that, though I know our lives will be even better for bringing this new person into our family, I will miss deeply.  I am going to enjoy these things while they last.