Group Effort: Pay it Forward!!

Last week, Swistle began talk of this massive pay it forward effort (and no, this doesn’t meant that one of us has to get stabbed a la Haley Joel Osment in the end) and despite my extra large, miserable and sciatic pregnant state, I’ve decided to jump on the band wagon.

In case you haven’t heard, here is how it works: I post this contest today, telling you that it is a pay it forward kind of deal. You leave me a comment (see details at the bottom) and in the end, I will use a random number generator to pick a winner. The catch is that if you win, you have to pay it forward in a contest of your own. Theoretically, we will have contests up the wazoo for the foreseeable future.

I’m not sure what the prize will be, however as my last day of work (UNTIL OCTOBER!!!!) is Wednesday, and the kiddos will still be going to summer camp a few days a week, I envision a lengthy trip to Chez Target upon which I will spend way too much money on myself and the baby, but will also have you in mind. Now of course, if something happens, and I find myself on bed rest, your prize may be a mixed CD of some of my favorite songs (think obscure 70’s rock and folk, combined with 80’s and 90’s 1-hit wonders—yes, I am an enigma) or some random crapstuff from home that after living without for 3 months of a kitchen remodel, I’ve decided that I don’t really need. But let’s not think like that; let’s remain positive in our thoughts that the prize will be ridiculously awesome no matter what.

Anyway……

In order to be entered, I’d really like it if you answered the following questions:

1. What is your favorite musical? (And don’t say you hate musicals; everybody likes at least one, even if it’s Moulin Rouge or some crap like that)
2. What is your favorite movie theatre candy?
3. If you had to name 2 babies today, yours or otherwise, one boy and one girl, no questions asked, what would their names be?

If you’re against being questioned, that’s ok too---not fun, but ok---just leave me a “please enter me” comment.

Be sure that if you don’t leave a link back to your own site, you leave me your email address so that I may contact you when you win. So, GO!! Enter!! Let’s get this going!!!

**Contest is open until 11:59 PM Eastern Standard Time on July 4, 2008**




(For a complete list of contests, you can visit Swistle.)

Friday Free For All

• I didn’t post yesterday, maybe because I was working, maybe because I didn’t have anything good to say or maybe (just maybe) I was too busy obsessing about how my torso in this photo is about the size of one of my thighs today. I don’t know……
• I’m making a conscious effort to not consume so much crap over these next few weeks as the baby puts on weight. Maybe, JUST MAYBE, my diet has contributed to the hypoglycemia of the other 2 children at birth. This doesn’t mean that I’m not roasting 10 marshmallows in the oven and eating them with a spoon (oh, because I TOTALLY am), but it means that I’m not doing it twice or 3 times in the same day. I’m also eating breakfast and making coffee at home rather than buying donuts and pastries, which has to be helping.
• At this point though, I’ve kind of lost interest in food. But I’m looking forward to eating hospital food. Because I’m a f-r-e-a-k. I love hospital food.
• I made 24 banana muffins on Wednesday night and as of this morning they are gone. Bud consumed 10 of them. 10 muffins. They are on the side of small cupcakes in size, but 10 muffins!! OMG.
• I have a few small objectives at work that are not work related. They are: sneaking in wearing my flip-flops which is a huge no-no, getting up as few times as possible while maintaining a constant supply of water, and walking without appearing to have something lodged in between my legs. So far I have done well with the first 2, not so much with the last. I’m also wearing jeans every day because all of my other clothes are stupid and uncomfortable. I’m having a love affair with Hub’s sweat shorts right now; they are a constant part of my at-home wardrobe.
• My desk thermometer reads 77 degrees, which solidifies my belief that I am being tortured.
• Despite having slept really well for the last 3 nights, I can not shake the feeling of exhaustion. Something tells me it won’t be going away any time soon.
• There will be contests-a-plenty next week. HOW FUN!!

The Perfect Proposal

Universal Studios Home Entertainment and 5 Minutes For Mom are hosting a contest in honor of the June 24th release of Definitely, Maybe. Post your proposal story and you could win a set of 3 DVDs to include “Definitely, Maybe”, “Love Actually” and Notting Hill. You can find the rules here . And for a $5 off coupon to purchase “Definitely, Maybe” visit their site here.

So, without further ado, here is our story, sans pseudonyms, because it seems silly.

Ed and I began dating during the summer of 1994. Although we saw each other nearly every day, our relationship wasn’t “official”, as things had to be back then, until August 14th. It was Woodstock Weekend and our mutual friend Melissa (along with her father) was hosting a weekend long party complete with pay per view to celebrate. I was 15 years old and was sure that I knew everything; was sure that despite my age, I was more of an adult than a child. I can still hear my mother’s endless chant “You are 15 and he is 18. You don’t know what love is. You are a child.”

I knew better though. Ed was the one for me. We entered in to our respective Junior and Senior years that fall and were quickly seen as being inseparable, you know, that couple. We were somewhat of an unlikely pair as my past boyfriends had leaned more toward dangerous and unstable. Ed was responsible and a genuine nice guy. To be honest, I’m not sure where I would be today if it wasn’t for him.


My Senior Prom 1996

Years passed, and we each graduated high school. Ed waited a year after graduation, and we both started college together in 1996. We had many serious talks over the years and we both knew we would be married and eventually have children. We knew where our lives were headed and agreed that once we were done with school, we would do the whole engagement thing.

After a year of college, on my 19th birthday, we took the next step in our relationship and moved in together. We both still hold fond memories of our basement apartment with the blankets over the windows and mish mosh of hand-me-down furniture. We were both working 2 jobs and going to school full time, and for me, soon school fell by the wayside.

We moved in to our house, then owned by Ed’s father, in 1999. As we approached 5 years of togetherness, I started getting the itch. It was time to be married. It didn’t help things that my best girlfriend, who had been with her boyfriend for about half as long as we had been together, was planning her own wedding. I was her maid of honor and while I was thrilled for her, I was devastated for myself. “It should be me……”, I thought over and over again. The breaking point was after attending a bridal fair with her and being happy all day. I came home and collapsed in our bed and just sobbed. I was honest with Ed about why I was upset and he reassured me with “someday……”

I still don’t know if it was that day that got him in to gear, or if it was already in the works by then. On our annual trip to Cedar Point, on our 6 year anniversary, Ed finally proposed. We were sitting on a bench in Frontier Town, just outside of our favorite cookie shop, taking a rest. He was behaving oddly, but I chalked it up to the heat. Before I could even process what was going on, there he was, on one knee in front of me. His words were simple, “Sara, will you marry me?” Of course, I said yes. The ring was perfect, simple, a heart shaped diamond that he had picked and arranged the setting for himself.



Horrible posture, I know


The rest is history. I married my best friend and soul mate on September 14, 2002, after 8 years of being together. We had a gorgeous, simple church ceremony, and threw what our family and friends still refer to as the best reception ever.







Possibly dancing like Elaine from Seinfeld...


This coming August, just after we welcome our third child, we will have been a couple; a unit, for 14 years---nearly one half of my life. I did know what love was, even at the age of 15, when I was really more of a child than adult. I wouldn’t have it any other way.



My 10-Year High School Reunion, August 2006

Field Observation

• In what circumstance is it warranted for a man to go for a drive with no shirt on? I mean where is he going? Also, gross! These aren’t attractive men to begin with. And isn’t their skin sticking to the fake leather seats in their 1983 Chevy Caprice Classic?
• Can we just cut out all of the drive-thru banter at Starbucks? It is so old. When the chick tells me to pull around and see Brandon for my total, in sets the dread. In the course of 3 minutes while he swipes my card, we talk about how cute I am, my sunglasses, my sparkly credit card, girls who are pregnant at the salon where he also works, MY due date, what I do for a living, and the weather. I am in the drive-thru because I have not yet consumed caffeine and I’ve just had more conversation than I’d like to have in an entire day. Step off, Brandon!
• Things I may have said at work yesterday: “She is, like stealth! I’m sitting here and all of the sudden she is behind me talking! I mean what if I was looking at porn??” (don’t worry, pornography is blocked at my workplace……) Also, “The shit is VOID. That’s all there is to it.” Also, “Do you know how crazy you are making me? I need one of those ‘bang head here’ signs!!” And because, clearly, I am boss of the year, after being asked how to solve a problem “I don’t have the answer and I don’t know what to tell you here. I would just suggest that you find a way to get it done without involving me!”
• My children spent the better part of an hour fake burping at bedtime last night, and found it hysterically funny. They also can’t wait to go to the library, which is one of several (community pool, park, bounce house, nature trails) places I promised to take them while I am off and before Olivia comes. (weighing my hands, on one, fake burping intellectuals on the other, fake burping dorks)
• I hadn’t heard about this until this morning, but Celebrity Family Feud starts tonight. I am so watching that. I also want Joey Fattone and Mel B. to show up in my office. Preferably after I come back to work. Do you guys remember Circus of the Stars? I loved that show back in the day. They need a revival.

If I Say It Enough, It Will Be True

4 weeks from now. 4 weeks from now. 4 weeks from now.

Four weeks from now is my tentative induction week. My practice induces Monday through Wednesday. Hub wants Wednesday. Whatever, dude. 4 weeks from now. Of course, we will know more on the 11th which is when I have my internal scheduled for 9:15 AM and my sonogram scheduled for 12:30 PM. But I am banking on 4 weeks from now, July 21-23, having this baby.

4 weeks from now. If I keep saying it, it might just be true.

Hub went with me to my OB visit today, not for any particular reason, but more for “why not?”. It was uneventful per usual. The ball is completely in my court as far as when I would like to stop working, so I will show up to work for a few hours on next Tuesday and be done with it. Then I will happily collect my bonus at the end of the month.

I had to have Hub take Lucy to gymnastics on Saturday on account of being unable to walk. When he came home, he immediately took Bud to Tae Kwon Do for photos, and after that FIL took both kids to a cousin’s T-ball game so I worked on laundry while Hub did kitchen stuff. We ended up having a killer fight while they were out, that I don’t really want to talk about, but that partially because of my hormones and partially because of his temper left me completely out of control. Things are fine, but I’m still not over it. I can’t even think about it without having to fight back tears.

So let’s move on…

We cooked and ate in the yard Saturday night and just as we were gearing up to make s’mores, we had a thunderstorm and pouring rain. The fire lasted long enough to toast 2 marshmallows and make 2 s’mores. It was a fun filled family activity, short of my neighbor being perched on her deck throwing comments at us. “Hey Sara, that’s a lot of baby in there, huh?” “Sara, are you sure that’s a girl? Looks like a boy to me!!”

The kids were up late, but they didn’t sleep in on Sunday. Hub got right up and started working and I am pleased to say that short of paint and molding on the walls and ceiling, a bit of edgework, and the floor being laid, the kitchen is done!! The breakfast nook is done!! It is beautiful!!! I am more than pleased. Meanwhile, I sat around on the couch, took a luxurious 30-minute shower, put the bouncy seat together, and chopped meat and veggies for dinner. Much less productive, I know.

Soon it will be over though. 4 weeks from now.

Friday Free For All

• I feel compelled to tell you that my parents aren’t actually bad people. They’re not even bad grandparents (when they are around). My kids love them and talk to at least my mother on the phone once a week. My mother has even offered to stay with me while Hub is in California for a week in September. They’re just well, absent. And you were all so right—not much I can do about it.
• I mentioned in casual conversation how I had given most of Lucy’s newborn clothes away, and one of the girls who works for me brought in about 30 sleepers size 0-3. I use them even in the summer because we sleep with the AC and the fan on. YAY!
• I’ve decided to work at least another week for a variety of reasons. One is having a huge project offered to me that I don’t trust anyone else to do, the second is the opportunity to do some pretty cool recording outside of my line of business, and the third is that if I work for even one day in July, I still get my monthly bonus. Dedicated? I am, but also money hungry.
• I have been very itchy the last few days, especially my palms and the soles of my feet. Yesterday I googled “itchy hands and feet in pregnancy” and approximately 24,568 links came up to say that it was normal. But I zeroed in on the one that said that my liver was probably failing, and promptly freaked the hell out. I took a benedryl last night (and had the best sleep I’ve had in a while) and used Lucy’s calming lotion this morning and I am doing a lot better.
• I have an apple sized zit right on the end of my nose. Pregnancy skin be damned.
• I ordered my Wii today!!!!
• I think that I am going to try and get my entries from my old blog on to this one. It will be a pain due to having to edit pseudonyms. But I’d like a valid accounting of the last few years. I was reading my first few from 2006, when Bud was 2.5 and Lucy wasn’t even 1, and I wonder what ever happened to that girl? Incidentally, it has been 8 years since I officially started blogging

Grandparental Involvement (...or lack thereof)

I fought with my mother on Father’s Day. I wouldn’t even really call it a fight as it was more about getting something off of my chest that has bothered me for the last 4.5 years. I’ve bitten my tongue for a long time, and I don’t know if it was the heat, the hormones or if I had just hit my breaking point, but I finally said, in short, what I had been feeling.

I called to see if she and my father were interested in coming over for steaks that evening. She started our conversation going on about how tired she was and how she had worked a half day and was planning a nap; she had sent my father to the store for something. I knew before I even asked that the answer would be no, but I asked and let her respond and then said that I guessed I should have known because the answer is always no. I could tell immediately that her defenses went up because she accused me of being pissed off (which I really wasn’t) and then began making excuses about how it was hard for them to both work full time, how she was planning on getting up at 3:30 to be at work by 5:30 the next morning, and just a lot of garb. I calmly told her that I wasn’t pissed, nor was I attacking her, but was plainly pointing out the obvious. In a fluster she told me that she would have my father call when he returned and she hung up the phone.

Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, however, this has been weighing on me heavily as my mother has been pushing to have the kids come over and spend the night. I sidestepped the question several times, but then she mentioned it to Bud on the phone and now it is all that he can talk about.

Aside from not seeing any reason to give up custody of my children for the night, there are so many issues here. Since Bud’s birth, my parents have watched one or both of the children a total of 3 times. That is three times in 4.5 years. Granted we have a built in sitter in FIL, however, I don’t see what prevents them from asking if we’d like to drop the kids off on a Saturday or Sunday, just because. I don’t understand why they don’t invite us over for dinner, or why they constantly turn me down when I invite them to our place. I get that they work full time. I get that they live 30 minutes away. I get that they are tired. I get that my mother does not drive. I get that they like to spend some of their free time up at the casino. But I don’t get why seeing their grandchildren does not supersede all of this. From the time I was a child my mother talked about how she couldn’t wait for grandkids so that she could spoil them; she felt bad that my own grandparents were just not the spoiling type. But here we are, and that is so not the case.

Am I being irrational?

Part of me wonders if it is my fault for being very independent when it comes to raising my kids; independent in general even. I moved out when I was 19, started my adult life with Hub, and never looked back. We moved in to our house when I was 20. We paid for our own wedding when I was 23. And when I was pregnant at 24, I didn’t even tell my family until I was almost 4 months along. I did everything myself as far as the learning went. From the time Bud was in utero, I wanted to learn everything; go through everything myself (well, Hub and me). I didn’t ask for help, even from FIL, when he was an infant. The same trend continued as we merged very quickly in to a family of 4, and will likely be the same as it the number increases to 5.

But the rest of me feels like it’s not me at all; that it is them. They work, and their free time is their free time and they’re going to do what they want with it. If they want to spend their free time sleeping, or gambling, or doing whatever it is that they do, and they don’t have time for their grandkifds—except for when it suits them- so be it. Maybe it shouldn’t bother me like it does.

It continues to do so, though, so where do I go from here? Make more of an effort? I clearly can’t speak to my mother about it because she gets defensive. In fact, that is why I had to move my blog because she thought that everything I wrote had something to do with her (and also used it against me, but that is a different story for a different day) Do I resign myself to it being what it is, and let my kids see them less than once per month and stand my ground on this overnight BS?

As much as he drives me insane, I suppose I should be glad that FIL is there, taking such an interest in the kiddos, more than willing to spend every waking minute with them and is agreeable to do whatever they would like.

Who would have ever thought that the grandparent game would be so hard? Or that it would have such an affect on me?

You Spoke! I Listened! Hair and Pedi Photos Plus 33-Week Bonus Photo!

I really should have just stayed home today, but my obligation to my job is too strong. Actually, those 18 reviews are still hanging over my head and 9 of them were scheduled for yesterday, so here I am. Cold, clammy and still sick but sipping on tea and nibbling a bagel and trying not to die. I do thank you all for your comments yesterday, and I concur, that the barfing flu while 8-months pregnant is not something that I would wish on my worst enemy. The worst part? Peeing my pants while vomiting. Oh yes, it was glamorous.

Let’s keep this short, shall we, and get to those photos? Then I’ll get back to dying and hopefully not infecting my staff.



After her bath on haircut day. I love the nightgown!



Posing for me



A Better shot of the whole cut



Our toes--please ignore my fat feet and the flip-flop indentations. It's gross.




Bud wearing the hat I purchased for Olivia to come home in. (I am returning it because it is full of holes---and now very stretched out)



Did I mention that Bud had a dance recital at school?



He is very handsome. :)




Finally, here is Lucy resting her chin, not on a red rubber ball, but on my bulbous belly @ 33 weeks.

The Barfing Flu

The experience is totally enhanced by being eight months pregnant.
Really. You should try it! Throwing up with a belly full of baby is
awesome! (I am in HELL)

Weekend Recap

Hub had been bugging me for a while to have Lucy’s hair cut. It was constantly in her mouth and eyes and full of food. I was being stubborn though, basically forcing her to have long hair because, well, isn’t that the best part of having a little girl? Lucy began to be more insistent of a haircut after Bud’s most recent venture, insisting that it should be short just like his. I gave in and took her this weekend but only after telling Hub that as her mother I was in charge of her hair, at least while she can’t tell me what she wants, and that we were just trimming the ends.

My daughter though, well you know, she’s tenacious.

She wanted a “real” hair cut. She didn’t want any more barrettes or pony tails. She likes short hair!

We compromised on a chin length bob that is angled on the sides to keep the hair from her mouth. She did not want her bangs cut which was a relief to me because I’ve been working on growing them out since Christmas.

Ok, so it’s the perfect haircut for her.

Her bangs are in her eyes, but can easily be pushed aside. She refused a barrette this morning and tucked her hair behind her ears.

Just like me.

She is my daughter. I have no idea how to do anything with my hair, and quite honestly, I have no desire to do anything other than “wash and go”.

I hate it when Hub is right.

We rounded out our Saturday with a trip to the nail salon, where she picked out a royal purple polish with subtle sparkles for my toes, declaring “This is my FAVORITE color Mommy!!! PURPLE!!!”. She sat patiently on my lap while I had my pedi, and then had her toenails painted the same color afterward.

All of us went to the Drive-In to see Kung Fu Panda on Saturday night. Bud loved the movie while Lucy was enamored with having pillows and blankets spilled out all over the back of our van. I rather enjoyed the onion rings... We didn’t get home until after 11:30, but the kids slept until 9:00 Sunday morning, so it worked out ok for me.

I took the kids to the grocery store yesterday morning where we picked out Father’s Day cards and the ingredients to make waffles for breakfast. While in the self-checkout, a coupon for tampons printed out, and it had a dancer on the front of it. Bud pointed out that I had a coupon and I said that I didn’t need that one. He asked “Why? Because you’re not a ballerina??” Yes, exactly.

I think that Hub had a good day, even though he was the one to cook dinner. We had steak, potatoes and corn on the cob, all on the grill, and it was delicious. I had made a chocolate pie for dessert which we enjoyed after the kids were bathed, and we went to bed early.

Finally, I tested my mobile posting skillz last night to find out if I could give you up to the minute detail from the hospital. That sounds a bit extreme, right? But at least I know I can tell you all that she is here and not worry about not logging on to my computer for a week or 2. YAY!

Test on mobile posting.

While looking at Father's Day cards and after reminding Lucy to stay
with me several times, she picked up a card & Pretended to read.
'This card says I don't love my mommy anymore because she is mad at
me.' KIDS!!!

Friday Free For All-The Baby Gear/Getting Ready Edition

1. Did I ever tell you that I get a 10% discount at Target.com through work? They have free shipping on baby gear right now, so I ordered the 2 big ticket items I needed today. LOOK!!!



AND



This is a huge weight off of my shoulders.

2. Did I ever mention the awesome sling that Shelly Overlook sent me, like way back in February? I still owe her for that one. I mean, look at it!! It is very luxurious.




3. In the grand scheme of things, I don’t have a whole lot left to buy. I saved Lucy’s bottles and still have a crapload of inserts, so I need nipples. I will buy a few binkies, but my kids don’t want them. I need new valves for my breast pump, which seriously cost like 38 cents and collection bottles because my BIL’s stupid girlfriend lost them all. How, I don’t know, because she used the pump for a week. I guess I need to make sure it still works too. A few more onseies and sleepers, nursing pads and bags, butt cream, diapers, some baby soap, a sleep positioner and I think I’m pretty much done? I’d like to get a Bumbo, but Hub thinks they are stooooopid.

4. Does it seem like I’m missing any newborn necessities? Even with all the stuff I already have, I feel like I’m forgetting something.

5. I’m cleaning out our room this weekend and we’ll move the bassinette in within the next few weeks. I need to wash the linens but will save that for last; or at least I won’t put them in for a while because the cats will think I’ve set up their bed. Until it smells like the baby, they’ve always camped in there, causing me to rewash EVERYTHING. They are jerks.

6. I need to wash the pad for the carseat/carrier.

7. And hose off the stroller and let it sit outside in the sun to dry. It’s GRODY.

8. I’m trying to refrain from buying any more clothes, despite the Monster Sale at TCP. I may cave and buy the overalls for $4.99. I’m actually probably going to drive out to the Outlet in Niagara Falls this weekend to see what I can get. She probably has like, 30 outfits though—and really, where is she going?

9. My bag is mostly packed—I do need some new nursing bras. Does anybody have any suggestions? I have the sport type ones for around the house, but I definitely need something more supportive (but with no wires because they cause my ducts to clog, YAY) for leaving the house. I also need to buy something to wear at the hospital. I’m so mad at Old Navy for discontinuing the matching outfits I was buying for baby and me. You know, these:



10. When I type it all out, it really doesn’t seem like a whole lot. Is there something obvious that I am forgetting here?

Signs That You Are SO Done with this Pregnancy Crap

• You have to pee 453 times per day but nothing more than a trickle comes out. But somehow, if you cough or sneeze, it seems like a gallon leaks out.
• Even with DD’s you seem flat chested compared to your bulbous belly
• When your husband tells you that you look nice, you scoff as in “Yeah right!!”. When he says that he means it, you burst in to tears.
• You are glued to The Discovery Health Channel and are convinced that everything on TV is happening to you.
• Odd body parts have begun to sweat.
• You have run out of polite responses to comments such as “Oh yes, you are definitely bigger than yesterday!” or “Gosh, you are going to pop any second. Are you due in the next few days?” and instead say through gritted teeth “Actually I have at lease 6 more weeks to go. And until you said something, I didn’t really feel any bigger than I did yesterday. So thanks for your input.”
• Public bathroom stall doors bang you in the belly as you try to maneuver in to the stall.
• Your facilities manager, who has made arrangements for you to park right up front in Customer Parking so that you don’t have to park ¼ of a mile away next to the dumpsters every morning, thinks it is hysterical to make comments about calling off the tow trucks for that blue van up front every time he sees you.
• When your husband suggests that maybe your sonogram will reveal that the baby is of normal size and we really do have 8 weeks to go, you have to fight (hard) the urge to punch him in the gut.
• Because your first two pregnancies were so close together, acquaintances at work have sort of merged them together. You can see shock and disbelief when they realize it is your third. Then they make offhanded remarks such as “Wow, 3 under 4! You’ll have your hands full!” Listen bitches, my hands have been full since the first one was born. STFU.
• Your maternity pants no longer stay up and you are constantly showing ass crack.
• You’ve given up caring that your hair is way too long AND that you have WAY too many scraggly greys.
• When your son wants to know how much older he will be than his baby brother who will come AFTER this baby, you throw up a little bit in your mouth.
• You wonder if at this stage in the game, consuming mass quantities of caffeine would really do any harm to the baby. You begrudgingly stick to your 1-2 cups per day.
• You would like to be able to eat toast or a cracker without getting heartburn.
• You know that as miserable as you are, it will be *SO* worth it in the end.

Barfathon 2008 (If you need me I will be asleep under my desk)

I woke to hear pounding feet, whimpering and then raucous vomiting in the bathroom. Even after I got to the bathroom it took my half-asleep brain a few seconds to register what was going on. There was Lucy, bent over the toilet, throwing up what seemed to be everything she’d eaten in the past month. I pulled her hair away from her face while she finished and dampened a washcloth to wipe her face. I asked whether she had thrown up in her bed (she hadn’t) and if her belly still hurt (it did) and I brought her out to the couch with me.

This was midnight and she proceeded to barf or dry heave every 10 minutes for the next three hours.

To her credit, Lucy is a champ when it comes to vomiting. She knows when it’s coming and gets herself to the toilet and does not make a mess. It’s no coincidence though; she spent all of last summer throwing up as she popped molars. She is home with Hub now, happily chattering away about how she “throwed up” and nibbling on some toast.

Needless to say, I am exhausted, but I dragged my butt in to work because I need to have 18 Performance and Development discussions completed before the end of the month. And since I only intend to be here through 6/23, I need to get cracking.

I am unsure how to handle Bud and the attitude he has developed recently. Everything is an argument. He is constantly telling me “I am so mad at you right now!!”. Yeah, he’s 4. Last night, when I told him it was time for bed, he argued. When I spoke to him about arguing with me, he whipped me in the face with Lucy’s blanket, in sheer anger. What does one do in that situation? My only urge was to burst in to tears because my baby boy wanted to physically hurt me. I kept it together and marched him in to bed and told him that I didn’t even know what to do with him. I told him he’d better go to sleep with no problems or there would be no Tae Kwon Do for 2 weeks. Hub disagrees with using Tae Kwon Do against him and says I should have taken away toys or TV. I still don’t know what to do. He was a pisser again this morning, demanding orange juice when I’d already poured him apple and I ignored him. He refused to drink and I refused to switch out the juice. I ended up buying him milk and 2 donut holes on the way to daycare and I felt like a schlub. What kind of lesson am I teaching him? And also, hello Saly, choose your battles. I totally could have poured him orange juice. I’m feeling helpless because clearly I don’t know what he needs.

Mommy Time

After Lucy was born, I made sure to preserve special time with Bud. It usually occurred in the morning, before anyone else was up, we would sit on the couch and talk a bit before everyone’s day actually started.

As time has passed, Lucy has been the one to get up with me in the morning, though she is not a morning person. She is a ball of fury with fists clenched, puffy morning face and birds nest hair, typically throwing herself on top of me while maintaining a death grip on “blankie”. Our conversation is the same every morning:

“Hi baby girl, how was your sleep?”

“BAD!!”

She’ll snuggle for 5 minutes or so before she is ready to face her day. This morning was no different. She turned over so that she was cradled in my lap and turned her face up for a kiss. “There’s my baby girl”, I said, and she smiled. “Pretty soon, LuLu, you won’t be the baby anymore.”

“I know, I’ll be the big sister!” This thought clearly excites her. “I will help you with diapers! And sing songs to Olivia!”

I ask her what else she will do, and after thinking for a minute she asks if we can go to Target to pick out a binky for her. (Neither child has ever used a binky, but Lucy is obsessed with them.) “Sure”, I tell her, and she scrambles down to say good morning to the cats and the rocking horse, and everything else in her path.

Our day has begun.

Bud has actually worked himself in to an evening routine. This child is a night-owl and thrives on getting 8-9 hours of sleep, max. He waits for Lucy to fall asleep, and finds his way out to where I have curled up on the couch, and settles in beside me twirling his fingers through my hair.

“You should be in bed.”, I tell him.

“I can’t sleep….” is always his reply.

He talks about things that are on his mind, things that he won’t say during the day when he’s busy being a rambunctious 4-year-old, and last night was the same. He wants to know about the baby, why she’ll be wet and dirty when she comes out and will the doctor say ‘take a deep breath and push’ (darn you Discovery Health); will I scream like those ladies on TV (I have assured him several times that I will have lots of medicine so that it won’t hurt), is she as big as a toaster yet? (one of our books mentions that all curled up, the baby is about the size of a toaster, but I think he pictures a toaster-shaped baby in there) He asks if I remember things and kids from his old school, which he hasn’t attended for about a year now, and if I knew about the dreams he had about Swiper swiping his toys while he slept. We talk quietly before I tell him again that he needs to be in bed, and somehow, he convinces me to let him sleep in the living room with me. When I wake up around midnight, he has put himself to bed.

I check both children as they are sleeping, making sure they are not too hot or cold, feeling their chests rise and fall under one hand as I brush their hair away from their faces with the other.

I return to the couch and place my hand on my belly, where Olivia is now kicking vigorously. For the first time I am not worried about how she will change our dynamic, or how I will love her as much as the other two. She’ll fit in just fine, and easily fill the space in my heart, or the time in my day, that has been waiting all of this time just for her.

32-Week Visit and Weekend Recap

Well, unless something changes drastically, I will be working for 2 more weeks. The visit, which lasted all of 4 minutes, was pretty uneventful, save from discussing AGAIN that we probably want to induce the week of 7/21. She apologized for continuing to bring it up, but wants it to always be on the front page of my chart. Fine by me; let’s just get her out of there, kthanksbye. I also got my script for the big 36-week sonogram to see just how big she is. Hub wants me to wait to schedule it until he has his calendar in front of him; he wants to be there. Hopefully I’ll have it taken care of before the end of the day.

Headlines all weekend, actually since last Wednesday, have been “Summer Has Finally Arrived!!!”. Headline is not necessary; the 90 degree weather has kind of tipped us all off. Normally, I would not mind a bit. But dudes, it is hot. Hub had the AC working by the time I got home on Friday though, so I have only been moderately miserable.

Hub and Bud did the big Crash-O Rama!! on Saturday and Lucy and I ended up at The Cheesecake Factory with my parents. Lucy was a sourpuss through most of dinner, until the server brought her a tiny dish of vanilla ice cream as we ate our cheesecake. Once my parents were gone, she was fine. We decided to walk through the mall for a bit—after she demanded to rent a race car buggy—and found ourselves at JCP where I bought Bud 6 pairs of shorts and 4 nightgowns for Lucy and spent only $42. I feel like my summer shopping is finally done. We then walked back to The Cheesecake Factory so I could pick up a slice of cheesecake to bring home for Hub. By the time we were home it was nearing 9:30, and Lucy insisted on wearing one of the new nightgowns to bed.

I don’t know what it was about the nightgown that made her seem so grown up. There she was in her big-girl bed, tangled in her blankets, her legs seeming so long—she seeming so old—and I was overcome with emotion. My baby girl is so not my baby anymore. In a little more than 2 months, she will have already been a big sister for a few weeks, and she will turn 3. My baby girl.

It was overcast and muggy yesterday afternoon, but we decided to pack a small picnic and head to the park anyway. We had good intentions of walking through the woods, but Hub and I watched the kids on the playground from our seats in the back of the van, and then we all shared ham sandwiches, chips and Doublestuff Oreos before taking a few more trips down the slides and heading for home. The kids slept on the 30-minute car ride, but we had them rest for a bit when we got home as well. Truth be told, Hub and I were exhausted.

The sun came out in the late afternoon, and Hub did some yard work (which included an unplanned event of cutting our front bushes down to stumps because “he hates them” [never mind how I feel about them]) while the kids played with the hose (note to self, buy each child a second pair of water shoes to take to daycare) and I cut meat and veggies for shish kabobs in the kitchen. Hub grilled and we had a late dinner and had the kids in bed and sound asleep by 8:30.

It was my kind of weekend, eventful without actually being eventful. Hub’s goal for this week is to completely finish the kitchen so that we can eat Father’s Day dinner together at the table.

Mine is to get more than 4 hours of sleep in a night.

Friday Free For All

• I have been leaning more and more toward Lynne for a middle name for this baby. Lynne is my middle name and I think it flows well with what we have chosen. Hub, per usual, has concerns. Bud shares Hub’s name. Lucy is just Lucy, and this baby will have part of my name. He feels as if in the future Lucy could feel wounded. My argument is that Lucy was given the girl’s name that I had pined for since I was in 9th grade. Doesn’t that count for something? Does anyone else feel like Hub thrives on conflict???? Ok that might be the heat talking, but jeeze!
• Speaking of the heat Hub did not get the AC on yesterday. It was a miserable night—to the point where he offered to at least take care of the bedroom (where up until last night I have not slept in for 3 weeks but that’s where the ceiling fan was) when he got home at 3am. I am not going to be a happy girl if it is not taken care of when I get home today.
• I took a trip to Chez Target on my lunch yesterday, looking for comfy, nursing appropriate hospital wear, and ended up leaving with 2 swimsuits for Lucy, 2 swim trunks for Bud, croc-style water shoes for each of them (which I swore I would NEVER buy, but they were $5.99 and very cute), sunglasses for me, and a cloth hobo-style bag that I converted in to a purse (it’s blue with teeny butterflies on it). No hospital clothes though. I liked nothing.
• I like how a lot of you picked up that I actually am a child hater in my last post. Some of those kids at daycare are just plain ANNOYING! I’m just not a fan of Bud telling people that I hate someone specific. (Speaking of my last post, I think I actually got a spam comment for Japanese porn.)
• I could have punched this lady out at daycare this morning, by the way. There are 2 PC’s where you sign your kids in and there she is holding her child (younger than Lucy, 18-mos or so), and having him touch the screen and look for letters and their name. I appreciate her trying to educate her baby, but the time and place for it is NOT when I am trying to get my already late ass to work. I kid you not, 5 other parents used the other computer while she used the one. And I, the poor planner, stood behind her thinking she’d be done any second while these other parents used the other one. Finally, when it was free, I stormed to the other one in a huff and shot daggers at this woman as I pounded my information in to the screen.
• Bud and Hub are going to Crash-O-Rama!! tomorrow and Lucy and I are doing something with my parents. Dinner will be involved but for the life of me I can not pick a place. Nothing sounds good—I’m tired of the American bar and grill experience. I just want something different and delicious.
• I’ve felt pretty good at work this week—I’m not sure if I’ve felt good enough to tell the doctor I can make it for another 2 when I see her on Monday, but in all, I’ve felt good. I kind of feel obligated to stay for a bit, since my boss was just dealt a huge personal blow and may be off of work for a bit. She’s taking things day by day and so am I.

I know, I’ve been Debbie Downer lately, all wah wah, woe is me, I’m pregnant and whiny and annoying. Sorry guys, I know. When I complained last week, about how 30 weeks sucks, Swistle pointed out that if you look at it in percentages, it might seem better. (It didn’t) I tried it out on Hub though because he’s probably more ready for this to be over than I am, and said “Hey, if you look at it another way, I am over 75% of the way there!” He didn’t buy it. Why? Because the last 25% is hell and outweighs the 1st 75% by at least half. Touché!

I am however, in love with the shape of my belly. It is round and perfect. I’d show you, but the stretch marks would be burned in to your retinas forever—so you’ll have to take my word for it. That’s the one thing I love about the end—there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that there is a baby in there. Despite my recent attitude, I actually feel, well, beautiful. This is what my body was meant to do and it is the greatest feeling in the world.

I have been home alone with the kids each night this week and it isn’t going well. They’re starting to realize that I can’t move as fast as I used to, and that I’ll put up with a little bit more because I’m exhausted. I’m trying so hard to be kind, and not let the pregnancy interfere with being a good mommy, but man it is hard. Last night ended with me picking all 43lbs of Bud up and placing him in his bed because when I told him to get going, he looked me dead in the eye and said “NO!”. When he screamed to get out, I shut the door. I could not take it for another second. BUT! I didn’t scream at him—I removed him (and myself) from the situation. We ended up talking about it after 15 minutes or so and he went to bed quick and easy for me.

Lucy though, was in some pit of despair and was weepy and whiny all evening. This carried on to bed time, and she ended up being awake until close to 11, lying on top of me as I slept on the couch. Finally, she told me she was going to bed, and got up and went herself. She was actually pleasant this morning—waking up and immediately asking “What if I was a toaster? Could I make my own pop tart??” [ARGH!!!], so I am not sure what the deal was.

And oh, I found out that Bud told all of the kids in his class that I do not like his friend Mia. He has been speaking in this high pitched whiny voice at home lately and when asked about it said that it was how his friend Mia spoke. I told him that I did not like his voice, but to him this means that I hate Mia, and to all of the 4-year-olds, I’m the mommy who hates other kids. OY.

Hub will be gone to work before I get home tonight. With the 90-degree weather we are expecting today and tomorrow, my only wish is that he gets the air conditioners in and working before I get home.

Or else I’ll be sleeping outside in the kiddie pool.

Sometimes....

-I wonder how well a request to have my family sit around nude for a few hours so that I could say with 100% certainty ALL--every.last.piece of the laundry is washed, dried and put away would be received.
-I feel bad that I don’t love my cats the way I did before the kids arrived.
-Or a lot of the time, I feel like Hub just doesn’t get it.
-Seeing the glorious new cupboards, counters and sink in my kitchen gives me a panic attack, because in some weird way, these things, more than anything else, have made me feel like a real adult.
-I feel like maybe I’m the only mother who (sometimes) can not stand to be around her own children.
-I cry after the kids have gone to bed because I haven’t used the kindest word or tones throughout the day.
-I get words stuck in my head, much like someone would get a song stuck in their head. Example: “Mandlebaum”
-But not too often, it bothers me that people mistake my quiet personality for bitchiness.
-I get major nervous tummy before doing something completely benign, like ordering a pizza
-Sitting and staring off in to space for 30 minutes or more calms and centers me, though Hub sees it as me being lazy.
-I wonder if my laid back, no regrets, I don’t care what anyone else thinks about me attitude is more of a sham than I lead people to believe.
-I worry that when my kids grow up they will dislike me, or not call.
-I worry about “what if they are not good people?”
-I make really downer-type lists (apparently)

Hello From Work!

So, I’m back at work. Hooray. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you it is near impossible to sit here with the back/hip pain. Maybe the whole 10 days off idea was a bad one. I miss my couch. I am back at the doctor one week from today though, to further assess the sciatica and whatnot, and I’m hoping I can be done.

That being said, I am banking on this week being my last at work and am tying up a lot of loose ends. Schedules and reports and making sure my responsibilities will be cared for properly in my absence. It’s going to be a real pain, but I think better than being pulled unexpectedly. I’m just going to work every day as if it’s my last, and keep my fingers crossed that the end is near.

I actually do miss work when I’m off though; there is so much camaraderie and plain old fun. Plus I have time to catch up with you Internets daily. It doesn’t happen at home, unless Hub is out of the house. He’s pretty sure that all of you are housebound middle aged male pedophiles. I don’t hide the blogging from him, but it’s better to do it when I’m alone.

We took our monthly trip to BJ’s yesterday and both had a minor panic attack when we realized that on our next trip we needed to buy diapers---OH THE HORROR!! They have boppy’s with cover there for $16.99 though, which I find to be a steal! I also finally made my list of the things we need to buy before she comes so we can whittle that down weekly. Who’d have thought the 3rd baby would be so expensive!

I also realized that in about 10 weeks, after Lucy’s birthday, I will have a 4-year-old, a 3-year-old and a newborn. Holy Hell, my friends.

Holy Hell.