I can't believe it's been so long since my last post-- sorry about that-- but I haven't slowed down much at all. My mom is going home in just over a week, and then a few days later, I'll be back at work. If things seem hectic now, I dread what they'll be like then.
We've been having fun and getting lots of busywork done. I got the baby announcements printed up (finally) and I might even get them sent out before Jambuca's first birthday. E-baby has adjusted really well to sisterhood, although I am really, really tired of getting up at night to help her get her pants back on when she's gotten up to pee at 3am. Baby brother wants to eat at 10pm, 1am, 3:30am, and 5am every night. To compound the sleep troubles, she is uninterested in her afternoon naps since we switched to daylight savings time. When she's at home, I only get good sleep when she takes a nap and someone else takes Jambuca for a couple of hours. Losing that will be really, really tough to handle. I have been making up for that relaxed, refreshed feeling with girl scout cookies.
Next week my dad comes to town, and the next weekend is Jambuca's baptism. We're all really excited about dad gettting to finally meet the baby, and I'm sure my mom is more excited than any of us.
This is a really boring post because I'm pretty much running on caffeine and sugar, so I'm going to go bury my brain in another terribly scripted episode of Madeline. The lyrics for the songs in that series make me twitchy.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Jambuca's One-Month-Day
Yesterday was Jambuca's one-month birthday, and I didn't even turn on the computer the entire day, so I didn't get this post up until now. Happy monthday, baby boy!
In the last week he has entered positive numbers for his gestational age, and there must be something special about that because he has also just exploded in his growth and in his awareness of the outside world. Remember those pictures from the hospital? Skinny arms and legs, small round cheeks, tennis ball head, no butt at all. Now? HA! Let's just say that SNG has taken to calling him New York Superfudge Chunk. E-baby calls him Chubby-Love. I can't stop gumming his big fat cheeks and tickling his 2nd chin. Even his shoulders are chubby. It makes sense because for the first three weeks of his life, all he did was eat, sleep, poop, and pass wind. He's still passing a lot of wind. A LOT. It's like Ooooooooklahoma in his pants. He's still eating and sleeping a lot, too, but he's spending a lot more time awake and looking around. The most interesting thing to look at is the cabinet full of coffee cups. That's my boy.
Now, I wouldn't want you to think "Oh, no fair, she's getting so much sleep with a newborn!" No, sadly, I'm not getting nearly as much sleep as I did with e-baby. He sleeps a lot, and the entire time he's sleeping, he grunts, yells, groans, makes choking sounds (scares the heck out of me), gurgles on spitup (which also sounds like drowning, and scares the heck out of me), and squeaks. There is no sleep for anyone else when Jambuca sleeps. Oh, and he wants to eat every 2-3 hours. Just like when he was born. The longest he's ever gone for a stretch at night is a hair over 3 hours.
Still, it's no worse than I'd expected, and he's had no signs of colic thus far, so I count myself very lucky anyway. Plus I'm still getting a nap every afternoon, which does wonders for my outlook on life.
OK, OK, enough chatter. I know what you're really here for-- the pictures are here. :-)
edited to add: at Jambuca's Brazelton assessment today, he was 10lb 11.5 oz, and 22 in.
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Health Report
edited to add: Oh, well, I spoke too soon-- I got the stomach bug, too. More fun to go around! My house might be quarantined until the end of my maternity leave.
Well, all of the positive healthy thoughts must have helped because so far, Jambuca is in good health, and e-baby is completely recovered. I can't really say the same for everyone in our household, though. My mom caught e-baby's intestinal flu and I caught her cold. SNG hasn't caught anything yet, but I probably just jinxed him by saying so.
In other news, yesterday was Jambuca's due date, so he is now gestationally 1 day old! Woo! So here's an update.
He can roll onto one side on his own. He started doing this when he was only a few days old. Yes, he is a strong little guy, but more than that I think it shows just how badly he wants to be sleeping on his side.
He tracks people's voices in coversations with his head, and seems very intent on listening to everything. Which is really cute, because it look like he's paying all this attention to what everyone is saying. You half expect him to jump into the conversation.
His binocular vision is developing well-- he rarely goes cross-eyed anymore. Too bad, because the cross eyed thing is great entertainment.
He still sleeps almost all of the time, and he is still a very noisy sleeper. He squeaks, hums, and grunts almost constantly. When he is awake, he is quiet and observant.
He is a very different temperament than e-baby, in a lot of ways that make him a crazy-easy baby to care for. He is just more laid back overall. I could tell this difference when he was in my belly, too-- she was a kung-fu fighter, and he practiced t'ai chi. It's the same moves, but different speed and intensity. It will be in his best interest to keep that temperament for the long-term, if he wants a peaceful relationship with his big sister.
E-baby is, by the way, doing very well. She is still completely crazy about baby brother, and seems to have mostly forgiven us for being so lame about making her wash her hands all the time and hug him gently and so on. In fact, looking back, I think all her rage and pestilence was more the result of rocking a cold and a stomach flu simultaneously than the result of our new household member. Having experienced at least her cold first-hand, she felt pretty crappy before we even saw any symptoms. And that was peanuts compared to the stomach bug, a few days later.
But five days of having both kids at home with e-baby sick as a dog reminded me (once again) that I am not cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. Matrix algebra is a whole lot easier than parenthood.
Well, all of the positive healthy thoughts must have helped because so far, Jambuca is in good health, and e-baby is completely recovered. I can't really say the same for everyone in our household, though. My mom caught e-baby's intestinal flu and I caught her cold. SNG hasn't caught anything yet, but I probably just jinxed him by saying so.
In other news, yesterday was Jambuca's due date, so he is now gestationally 1 day old! Woo! So here's an update.
He can roll onto one side on his own. He started doing this when he was only a few days old. Yes, he is a strong little guy, but more than that I think it shows just how badly he wants to be sleeping on his side.
He tracks people's voices in coversations with his head, and seems very intent on listening to everything. Which is really cute, because it look like he's paying all this attention to what everyone is saying. You half expect him to jump into the conversation.
His binocular vision is developing well-- he rarely goes cross-eyed anymore. Too bad, because the cross eyed thing is great entertainment.
He still sleeps almost all of the time, and he is still a very noisy sleeper. He squeaks, hums, and grunts almost constantly. When he is awake, he is quiet and observant.
He is a very different temperament than e-baby, in a lot of ways that make him a crazy-easy baby to care for. He is just more laid back overall. I could tell this difference when he was in my belly, too-- she was a kung-fu fighter, and he practiced t'ai chi. It's the same moves, but different speed and intensity. It will be in his best interest to keep that temperament for the long-term, if he wants a peaceful relationship with his big sister.
E-baby is, by the way, doing very well. She is still completely crazy about baby brother, and seems to have mostly forgiven us for being so lame about making her wash her hands all the time and hug him gently and so on. In fact, looking back, I think all her rage and pestilence was more the result of rocking a cold and a stomach flu simultaneously than the result of our new household member. Having experienced at least her cold first-hand, she felt pretty crappy before we even saw any symptoms. And that was peanuts compared to the stomach bug, a few days later.
But five days of having both kids at home with e-baby sick as a dog reminded me (once again) that I am not cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. Matrix algebra is a whole lot easier than parenthood.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Think Healthy Thoughts
E-baby was sent home from daycare today with a fever, feeling like rot. She went straight to sleep, and an hour later woke up screaming hysterically. I think it was when the fever broke, but then it went back up again. She's been taking Tylenol and Motrin alternately, but they don't seem to be helping much. She hasn't eaten lunch or any snacks all day, but she vomited this afternoon. She just feels rotten.
I hope she can get some sleep tonight, but I don't think it'll be a restful night for anyone. And like some kind of salt-and-pepper-haired superhero, my mom showed up just in time to help out. She arrived this afternoon. Yay!
So please send some healthy thoughts toward e-baby, and especially toward Jambuca, who is still gestationally minus-five-days-old, and doesn't really have the immune system for this kind of bug.
I hope she can get some sleep tonight, but I don't think it'll be a restful night for anyone. And like some kind of salt-and-pepper-haired superhero, my mom showed up just in time to help out. She arrived this afternoon. Yay!
So please send some healthy thoughts toward e-baby, and especially toward Jambuca, who is still gestationally minus-five-days-old, and doesn't really have the immune system for this kind of bug.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Ten-day Update
We've been a family of four for ten days now, and are still kind of getting used to things, but there have been no surprises. A few unpleasantries, but nothing unexpected.
After we got home from the hospital, e-baby was so excited to have her new babydoll toy here in the house.
He's tiny! He cries! He coos! He looks at you! He wees for real! He's PERFECT!
She is the greatest hazard to his personal safety in the whole house. Her intentions are so good, but her execution is something short of gentle. So whenever they're in the same room, one parent has to be watching closely (and physically interfering a lot). As a result, she LOVES baby Jambuca, and is pretty angry with us. She's peed on herself (How does one pee defiantly? Just watch e-baby) three times, she refuses to bathe, she refuses to eat but wants to throw her plate (and mine!) to the floor. It's not always like that, but evenings are pretty rough around here.
Still, none of it is unexpected. I expected her also to be angry with baby brother, and maybe that's coming next, or maybe not. Hopefully it will only be a few weeks before she comes down from her battle horse and decides to eat some dinner.
Our strategy has been Dr Spock all the way-- give her as much attention as is possible (while still meeting everyone's needs, of course), if someone comes over, focus a lot of attention on her, let her "help" with baby brother if she wants to, like baths and diaper changes. That all seems to work, but there's really no way to let her carry him around like she wants to, so she's perturbed a lot of the time. Dolls are simply not an acceptable substitute.
Jambuca's been to the doctor twice this week. Monday he has regained to his birth weight plus a little, and between Monday and Friday he gained 8 ounces. He now weighs 7lb, 9.5 ounces. Not exactly a chubster, but he has chubby baby cheeks at last and doesn't look skinny anymore. That last month in utero is really all about putting on layers of fat, which is what he missed out on in coming early. But the kid can EAT. He's making the most of life on land.
After we got home from the hospital, e-baby was so excited to have her new babydoll toy here in the house.
He's tiny! He cries! He coos! He looks at you! He wees for real! He's PERFECT!
She is the greatest hazard to his personal safety in the whole house. Her intentions are so good, but her execution is something short of gentle. So whenever they're in the same room, one parent has to be watching closely (and physically interfering a lot). As a result, she LOVES baby Jambuca, and is pretty angry with us. She's peed on herself (How does one pee defiantly? Just watch e-baby) three times, she refuses to bathe, she refuses to eat but wants to throw her plate (and mine!) to the floor. It's not always like that, but evenings are pretty rough around here.
Still, none of it is unexpected. I expected her also to be angry with baby brother, and maybe that's coming next, or maybe not. Hopefully it will only be a few weeks before she comes down from her battle horse and decides to eat some dinner.
Our strategy has been Dr Spock all the way-- give her as much attention as is possible (while still meeting everyone's needs, of course), if someone comes over, focus a lot of attention on her, let her "help" with baby brother if she wants to, like baths and diaper changes. That all seems to work, but there's really no way to let her carry him around like she wants to, so she's perturbed a lot of the time. Dolls are simply not an acceptable substitute.
Jambuca's been to the doctor twice this week. Monday he has regained to his birth weight plus a little, and between Monday and Friday he gained 8 ounces. He now weighs 7lb, 9.5 ounces. Not exactly a chubster, but he has chubby baby cheeks at last and doesn't look skinny anymore. That last month in utero is really all about putting on layers of fat, which is what he missed out on in coming early. But the kid can EAT. He's making the most of life on land.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
The Best Article of Baby Clothes, Ever
Of all the baby clothes we have for Jambuca, hands-down my favorite is the man-dress. It's the most practical thing ever.
Man-dress
It's like a sleepy-sack, but completely open at the bottom. When he's tiny, his legs can stay curled up inside like a frog. As he gets bigger, he can stretch out long. Midnight diapering is easy because there are no snaps or zippers to confuse a bleary-eyed parent. It should fit for a long time, too!
We have three man-dresses, and I think I may have to dress him in them until Kindergarten.Not only are they practical-- they're cute. I just don't know whether the manufacturer intended for them to be called man-dresses. But if anyone can make such a thing look macho, Jambuca can.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
A-baby's Grand Welcome Party
First things first, I have birthday pictures of the little dude here.
So, a-baby (a.k.a.Jambuca, not sure which one will stick on the blog) was technically due in another 2 weeks, 5 days. But hey, at 7lb, 1oz and 20.5 inches, my extrapolating skills tell me that I wouldn't have wanted to wait 3 more weeks. He was heading toward outsizing hs big sister, and we just. can't. have. that. So thanks, kiddo!
It all started out just like e-baby's, with a 2am wake-up of little teeny baby contractions that then lasted a long, long time. Around 5pm, when they were still teeny, easy, whatever kind of contractions, WHOOSH! my water broke (in SNG's office, sitting on state-owned property. Ask before you sit in any of his chairs, eh?). My doctor said to get to the hospital stat, but then my contractions didn't get a whole lot harder. I was kind of stalled at 4cm. For those outside this lingo, you start at zero cm. At 10cm, you get to push out a baby. On average, people usually dilate about a cm an hour. Four cm gets boring after awhile, and you don't want to sit around like that all night, so around 10pm my doctor said that I'd be getting pitocin (glossary moment 2-- it's a drug that kick-starts contractions). By the time the IV bag arrived, my own natural contractions had gotten pretty miserable, and I figured if was getting a drug-induced increase in pain, then I'd give the epidural another go. Last time, the epidural wasn't so hot. It kind of, well, wore off. Four hours before e-baby was born. Yuck. But everyone else says they are so nice.
The anesthesiologist was less friendly and more talented this time. Fine with me- I wasn't going to be staying for breakfast, as they say. About an hour of pitocin and still not much had changed. I was at 5cm. The nurse decided it was time to try lying on my right side. She left to eat some lunch or something. Within five minutes, the baby told me in no uncertain terms that he was on his way out, whether I was ready or not.
Five minutes, and I was at 10cm, and kiddo's head was starting to show from across the room. It took another 5 minutes for the doctor to arrive and put on her catcher's mitt. That was, unquestionably, the hardest 5 minutes of the year. Just try stopping a baby from coming out when he's determined-- ha!
One contraction consisting of 5 big breaths and kapow, BABY!
The only downside to having him come out so quickly is that the muck didn't get squeezed out of his lungs, and we've been working to get it out ever since. We are still in the hospital, sentenced to one more day of observation since he got daddy's blood type and is at high risk of jaundice. But in all he's a champ. He knew exactly how to eat from the first glimpse of the Milk Truck, and so far he's very tolerant of his big sister's EXUBERANT hugs. She's helping to squeeze the muck out, I think.
So that's the gory details. I'll post more (less gory) stories later.
So, a-baby (a.k.a.Jambuca, not sure which one will stick on the blog) was technically due in another 2 weeks, 5 days. But hey, at 7lb, 1oz and 20.5 inches, my extrapolating skills tell me that I wouldn't have wanted to wait 3 more weeks. He was heading toward outsizing hs big sister, and we just. can't. have. that. So thanks, kiddo!
It all started out just like e-baby's, with a 2am wake-up of little teeny baby contractions that then lasted a long, long time. Around 5pm, when they were still teeny, easy, whatever kind of contractions, WHOOSH! my water broke (in SNG's office, sitting on state-owned property. Ask before you sit in any of his chairs, eh?). My doctor said to get to the hospital stat, but then my contractions didn't get a whole lot harder. I was kind of stalled at 4cm. For those outside this lingo, you start at zero cm. At 10cm, you get to push out a baby. On average, people usually dilate about a cm an hour. Four cm gets boring after awhile, and you don't want to sit around like that all night, so around 10pm my doctor said that I'd be getting pitocin (glossary moment 2-- it's a drug that kick-starts contractions). By the time the IV bag arrived, my own natural contractions had gotten pretty miserable, and I figured if was getting a drug-induced increase in pain, then I'd give the epidural another go. Last time, the epidural wasn't so hot. It kind of, well, wore off. Four hours before e-baby was born. Yuck. But everyone else says they are so nice.
The anesthesiologist was less friendly and more talented this time. Fine with me- I wasn't going to be staying for breakfast, as they say. About an hour of pitocin and still not much had changed. I was at 5cm. The nurse decided it was time to try lying on my right side. She left to eat some lunch or something. Within five minutes, the baby told me in no uncertain terms that he was on his way out, whether I was ready or not.
Five minutes, and I was at 10cm, and kiddo's head was starting to show from across the room. It took another 5 minutes for the doctor to arrive and put on her catcher's mitt. That was, unquestionably, the hardest 5 minutes of the year. Just try stopping a baby from coming out when he's determined-- ha!
One contraction consisting of 5 big breaths and kapow, BABY!
The only downside to having him come out so quickly is that the muck didn't get squeezed out of his lungs, and we've been working to get it out ever since. We are still in the hospital, sentenced to one more day of observation since he got daddy's blood type and is at high risk of jaundice. But in all he's a champ. He knew exactly how to eat from the first glimpse of the Milk Truck, and so far he's very tolerant of his big sister's EXUBERANT hugs. She's helping to squeeze the muck out, I think.
So that's the gory details. I'll post more (less gory) stories later.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Weekend!
You know how sometimes the stars align, and you get everything on the "To Do" list done on the first day of the weekend? And other times the stars align and you don't get any of it done by the end of Sunday? This weekend has been the former kind. I started with a list that I was sure would take us more than 2 days to get done, but what do you know? We were done by bedtime yesterday! And now I can deal with those 4 freckly brown bananas by making banana bread. That wasn't even on the list! Ha! Take that, stars!
Before kids, we'd do everything on the list and still have time for a bike ride Saturday and Sunday mornings, and have time for a hike on Saturday afternoon, and a nice dinner out on Sunday night. And I'd cook up a dozen or 2 jars of jam, just for fun. In those days, our list would include such ambitious items as "build a new deck" and "plant a few flats of flowers" and things that we just don't even put on lists anymore.
Still, it feels so good to get everything on our measly list accomplished early. It helps that e-baby has been willing to go to bed before 9:30 the last two nights. And, just like that, I jinxed us to have all-nighters this week.
Before kids, we'd do everything on the list and still have time for a bike ride Saturday and Sunday mornings, and have time for a hike on Saturday afternoon, and a nice dinner out on Sunday night. And I'd cook up a dozen or 2 jars of jam, just for fun. In those days, our list would include such ambitious items as "build a new deck" and "plant a few flats of flowers" and things that we just don't even put on lists anymore.
Still, it feels so good to get everything on our measly list accomplished early. It helps that e-baby has been willing to go to bed before 9:30 the last two nights. And, just like that, I jinxed us to have all-nighters this week.
Monday, January 26, 2009
"The Fog Is Getting Thicker..."
and Alphagal is getting larger. I might actually be taller lying down than standing up.
Slightly less than 4 weeks to Due Date. This is familiar. I am so sick of looking like Pappy O'Daniel, and still I am all but in denial about the baby actually coming anytime soon. Do I have my hospital bag packed? Nope. Do I have the babyseat installed in the car? Nah. Fortunately, I can still count on SNG to get the nesting urge. The nursery is painted and decorated, the 0-3mo boy clothes are all washed and put away, and we have an action plan in place for e-baby when The Time Comes. In fact, we have plans A, B, and C.
I have reached a degree of hugitude where it's really hard to drive my car, sit at my desk at work, climb a flight of stairs, sleep, clip my own toenails, or do just about anything else that I'd otherwise take for granted.
I'm not really looking forward to the sleepless nights (and days) to follow when the baby does make an entrance. I worry about e-baby feeling neglected when she's no longer the only kid in the house. And I dread the work it's going to take to lose this baby weight. Nonetheless, I am dying to see what this little guy will look like, what his temperment will be, whether he'll be anything like his big sister, or whether they'll be polar opposites. It should all be a lot of fun, but it is going to get really hectic around here for awhile.
Recent and curious e-baby news...
She correctly identified a glockenspiel by its sound today from her Baby Einstein DVD. That was just... weird. I won't be laughing about those baby music classes at the daycare anymore.
Last weekend, Dianaverse was in the car and asked e-baby what was in her cup-holder. E-baby said it was milk. Diana asked what kind of milk. E-baby told her it was a liquid. Heh. Smart-alec.
I wouldn't want anyone to think it's all roses and bunnies around here, so here's a poopy one. E-baby is a little bit obsessed with seeing what she's "done" in the toilet, especially if it's a #2. This evening, after a particularly difficult effort, she looked inside and whispered, in apparent awe, "it's soooo beautiful." I almost had an aneurysm trying not to laugh.
Slightly less than 4 weeks to Due Date. This is familiar. I am so sick of looking like Pappy O'Daniel, and still I am all but in denial about the baby actually coming anytime soon. Do I have my hospital bag packed? Nope. Do I have the babyseat installed in the car? Nah. Fortunately, I can still count on SNG to get the nesting urge. The nursery is painted and decorated, the 0-3mo boy clothes are all washed and put away, and we have an action plan in place for e-baby when The Time Comes. In fact, we have plans A, B, and C.
I have reached a degree of hugitude where it's really hard to drive my car, sit at my desk at work, climb a flight of stairs, sleep, clip my own toenails, or do just about anything else that I'd otherwise take for granted.
I'm not really looking forward to the sleepless nights (and days) to follow when the baby does make an entrance. I worry about e-baby feeling neglected when she's no longer the only kid in the house. And I dread the work it's going to take to lose this baby weight. Nonetheless, I am dying to see what this little guy will look like, what his temperment will be, whether he'll be anything like his big sister, or whether they'll be polar opposites. It should all be a lot of fun, but it is going to get really hectic around here for awhile.
Recent and curious e-baby news...
She correctly identified a glockenspiel by its sound today from her Baby Einstein DVD. That was just... weird. I won't be laughing about those baby music classes at the daycare anymore.
Last weekend, Dianaverse was in the car and asked e-baby what was in her cup-holder. E-baby said it was milk. Diana asked what kind of milk. E-baby told her it was a liquid. Heh. Smart-alec.
I wouldn't want anyone to think it's all roses and bunnies around here, so here's a poopy one. E-baby is a little bit obsessed with seeing what she's "done" in the toilet, especially if it's a #2. This evening, after a particularly difficult effort, she looked inside and whispered, in apparent awe, "it's soooo beautiful." I almost had an aneurysm trying not to laugh.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
SNOW DAY!
Don't eat yellow snow!
It hasn't snowed with any appreciable accumulation in 3 or 4 years. We've had little dustings and once had about a half-inch when e-baby was 1-year old, but she has owned a snowsuit since she was born. Um, well, we didn't buy one this year.
When we went to bed last night we knew it would snow. There was a winter weather warning in effect, and the only unknown was how much snow would ultimately accumulate. At 6:45 this morning, the yeard was a winter wonderland with about 2 or 3 inches already accumulated, and the weather forecast was that it would continue to snow all day today. Deciding to sleep in a little, I called the operations hotline at work and the recording told me it was work as usual. Hmmm. Odd. Well, they only promise to update the hotline by 7am, so I waited until 7:02 and called again. Operations as usual. What?! Since when does anyone around here, especially the most family-friendly company in the area, have normal operations on a snow day? All the schools are closed. Most businesses are closed. Why weren't we?
Grumble-grumble-- I showered and dressed and by the time I made it out of the bathroom I could hear e-baby up on the balcony hollering "MOMMY IT'S SNOOOWIING! IT'S A REAL SNOW DAY!" so I bundled her up as quickly as possible and we went into the front yard. She squealed and laughed and ate snow and once her fingers got painfully cold, she instantly turned to misery, cried, went inside, and went back to bed.
I checked my email and got a message saying that the operations hotline was experiencing technical difficulties. We ARE closed today after all!! Woot!
Ten minutes later, e-baby was back yelling "SNOW DAY SNOW DAY I WANT TO GO OUTSIDE!" I insisted taht she eat some food first, bundled her up again, and we played in the yard some more. Same story-- a few minutes of squealing with joy and a sudden turn to crying and misery once her hands got too cold. Back to bed for another half-hour. I wish I had some waterproof gloves for her. All she has are those cheap knitted gloves, and they get wet pretty quickly.
I am guessing the whole day will be like this, but it's OK. I am kind of the same way myself. It's all good until some vital part gets wet. Right now e-baby and SNG are snuggled under a blanket on the couch watching the inauguration and Bob the Builder with picture-in-picture.
Other updates: we had a wonderful time at the prom, and yes, I did buy some tights to wear with closed-toed shoes. Thank PIC for finding them and thanks mom for the fashion advice-- a black dress, black tights, and black shoes with a burgundy sash for an empire waist effect was really cute. Or, as cute as you can be when you're double normal size, glomming down free buffet goodies with all your favorite drunken colleagues.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Prom 2009
DANG it is COLD! Even with my built-in midsection space heater I was freezing by the time I'd completed the 10-yard walk from my car to the door of e-baby's daycare this morning. But the weather had to be this way because tomorrow night is the annual winter party (a.k.a. The Prom) that my compnay puts on every January. Several thousand of my closest colleagues and their significant others descend upon a large convention center to enjoy four ballrooms with bands (disco, rock & roll covers, jazz, and Sinatra covers), martini bars, food food and more food, and a casino. There's usually a mardi gras calibur elbow-to-elbow crowd from the front door to the back ballroom and everywhere in between, but surprisingly, the lines to the bathrooms are never too bad.
And it is always FREEZING cold the night of the prom. It's as though someone custom orders sub-freezing weather just in time for the party. Evening gowns are just not warm. Ever. This year is worse because all my maternity dresses are knee-length and sleeveless. Not really evening gowns, more like "little black dresses," but I'll be darned if I'm going to spend money on something fancier when I've only got 5 weeks left to be pregnant, ever, for the rest of my life. And no other proms to attend.
I am heartened by the fact that, unlike my first pregnancy, I've had little or no edema and so I won't have to wear extra supportive hiking boots with my little black dress. I can actually wear something silver and strappy and cute. But that also mean open-toed, and I just will. not. wear. pantyhose with open toed shoes. It's a personal quirk of mine. That knee-length dress will be really, really cold. Maybe I can get away with some wooly leg-warmers for the commute from the car to the door of the convention center. Or long johns, like we used to wear under our school uniforms. Ugh. Never mind, I'll just have to be cold.
On an unrelated note, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Partner in Crime! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY to H in Austin, too!!
And it is always FREEZING cold the night of the prom. It's as though someone custom orders sub-freezing weather just in time for the party. Evening gowns are just not warm. Ever. This year is worse because all my maternity dresses are knee-length and sleeveless. Not really evening gowns, more like "little black dresses," but I'll be darned if I'm going to spend money on something fancier when I've only got 5 weeks left to be pregnant, ever, for the rest of my life. And no other proms to attend.
I am heartened by the fact that, unlike my first pregnancy, I've had little or no edema and so I won't have to wear extra supportive hiking boots with my little black dress. I can actually wear something silver and strappy and cute. But that also mean open-toed, and I just will. not. wear. pantyhose with open toed shoes. It's a personal quirk of mine. That knee-length dress will be really, really cold. Maybe I can get away with some wooly leg-warmers for the commute from the car to the door of the convention center. Or long johns, like we used to wear under our school uniforms. Ugh. Never mind, I'll just have to be cold.
On an unrelated note, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Partner in Crime! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY to H in Austin, too!!
Friday, January 9, 2009
Six Weeks Left and a Nugget of Experience (three, really)
As of tomorrow, it'll be 6 weeks to Jambuca's due date. I'm not sure which end of this tunnel (really, seriously, no pun intended) I'd prefer right now. With a second child, I know exactly The Kind Of Thing I'm getting myself in for, and the first year (OK, 18 months if I'm honest) is really hard. Not that it is without its joy and rewards-- but there's no question it is a challenge, particularly for someone who has always been better with teenagers than with babies. I find it funny that of all the challenges I've ever taken on in life, the only one I've had notable trouble rising to was caring for a baby. I still feel grossly unequal to the job some of the time. Give me singular value decomposition over bedtime problems any day.
The saving grace, though, is that this time around I won't be traveling 3-6 days a month for work, either pumping milk and figuring out how to sneak it home past the TSA or toting a baby with me (and my mom, and my pump for during the business day, and not sleeping much at night). I figure my travel schedule will pick back up once Jambuca's a year or 2 old, but for awhile I get a break. So things might be a lot less hectic. One can hope.
In e-babyland, potty training has been quite successful. She's still having a little trouble with knowing she has to poop, but that's improved over the past week. Last weekend, however, I made the mistake of telling SNG how she hadn't had any out-in-public accidents at all-- tempting the heck out of fate. Sunday, we went to the mall, ostensibly to visit the Hello Kitty store (actually just to get out of the house for awhile). After finding a choice toy in the half-off sale bin, we wandered around the mall. E-baby matter-of-factly announced to the whole world that she had "just had an accident! I made a BIIIIG POOP!" We made a beeline for a department store that I knew had a bathroom on that floor. As we looped around the perfumes and past the suits, she repeated loudly that "that poop is tickling my bottom! My bottom is tickly from that poop!! Heehee!" We finally made it to the ladies' room, and wouldn't you know, there was a line. We waited. I looked down and right next to e-baby's shoe, on the floor, was one dry little poop-nugget, roughly the size of a Barbie doll's head. It had apaprently rolled out of e's pants-leg. I pulled a plastic trash baggie from my bag and scooped it up under the horrified gaze of the lady waiting ahead of me in line. I got e-baby all cleaned up and changed, and when we walked out, SNG stared pointedly at a spot on the floor just near the bathroom door, by a display of menswear: another poop nugget. I was sneakier this time, and got a bunch of paper towel from the ladies' room to scoop it and throw it in the trash. We made our way to the store's exit in total silence, and as we passed cologne, SNG noticed another stepped-on nugget right on the tile floor there. I was out of trash bags, out of paper towels, and out of my mind. I lowered my head and made for the door as fast as my legs would take me and nearly burst into tears as we headed for home.
Looking back, it was really hilarious. I wish I'd just had the ovaries to go back to the ladies' room at the other side of the store, get more paper towels, and just get on the floor and clean up the mess from the last poop. But something about the horrified gaze of the lady in the bathroom combined with the high-traffic zone of the cologne section, and maybe hormones or something, I had no courage left in me whatsoever. Yes, I'm a total wuss. Next time, though, I'll be more prepared-- I carry more than one trash bag with me now. And maybe I can make a game of it for e-baby-- like an Easter egg hunt! Only icky! I keep telling myself that I will not let people's judgemental looks stop me from doing the right thing.
One can hope.
The saving grace, though, is that this time around I won't be traveling 3-6 days a month for work, either pumping milk and figuring out how to sneak it home past the TSA or toting a baby with me (and my mom, and my pump for during the business day, and not sleeping much at night). I figure my travel schedule will pick back up once Jambuca's a year or 2 old, but for awhile I get a break. So things might be a lot less hectic. One can hope.
In e-babyland, potty training has been quite successful. She's still having a little trouble with knowing she has to poop, but that's improved over the past week. Last weekend, however, I made the mistake of telling SNG how she hadn't had any out-in-public accidents at all-- tempting the heck out of fate. Sunday, we went to the mall, ostensibly to visit the Hello Kitty store (actually just to get out of the house for awhile). After finding a choice toy in the half-off sale bin, we wandered around the mall. E-baby matter-of-factly announced to the whole world that she had "just had an accident! I made a BIIIIG POOP!" We made a beeline for a department store that I knew had a bathroom on that floor. As we looped around the perfumes and past the suits, she repeated loudly that "that poop is tickling my bottom! My bottom is tickly from that poop!! Heehee!" We finally made it to the ladies' room, and wouldn't you know, there was a line. We waited. I looked down and right next to e-baby's shoe, on the floor, was one dry little poop-nugget, roughly the size of a Barbie doll's head. It had apaprently rolled out of e's pants-leg. I pulled a plastic trash baggie from my bag and scooped it up under the horrified gaze of the lady waiting ahead of me in line. I got e-baby all cleaned up and changed, and when we walked out, SNG stared pointedly at a spot on the floor just near the bathroom door, by a display of menswear: another poop nugget. I was sneakier this time, and got a bunch of paper towel from the ladies' room to scoop it and throw it in the trash. We made our way to the store's exit in total silence, and as we passed cologne, SNG noticed another stepped-on nugget right on the tile floor there. I was out of trash bags, out of paper towels, and out of my mind. I lowered my head and made for the door as fast as my legs would take me and nearly burst into tears as we headed for home.
Looking back, it was really hilarious. I wish I'd just had the ovaries to go back to the ladies' room at the other side of the store, get more paper towels, and just get on the floor and clean up the mess from the last poop. But something about the horrified gaze of the lady in the bathroom combined with the high-traffic zone of the cologne section, and maybe hormones or something, I had no courage left in me whatsoever. Yes, I'm a total wuss. Next time, though, I'll be more prepared-- I carry more than one trash bag with me now. And maybe I can make a game of it for e-baby-- like an Easter egg hunt! Only icky! I keep telling myself that I will not let people's judgemental looks stop me from doing the right thing.
One can hope.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
It's a Potty, it's a Potty-Potty, It's a Potty-Potty Weekend!
Since I am sure everyone's dying to read about peepee and poopoo, I've been trying to get in front of the computer long enough to write something for several days, but have not been able to until now (and even now, SNG is saying "put on a coat and come out here and bring mittens for e-baby because I need to look at the wires under the house and someone needs to throw the ball for DOTi." So this minute is technically stolen.).
After long consideration, I wouldn't attribute difficulties we've been having to my child being just plain stubborn. That's really not an accurate characterization of her. She definintely has her own mind, and wants things done her way, but she is also surprisingly rational, so usually she'll respond to reason. No, I think any trouble we've had has been related to two things about e-baby. 1- she is a kid who HATES stopping what she's doing to do something different. No matter what she's doing right now, it is, in her mind, the ONLY thing she wants to do. Nothing else can compete (except, as I've mentioned, books-- usually). 2- she is feeling a new sense of power and control with the big-girl underwear, and likes the fact that she can hold it for a long time in spite of my constantly asking "do you need to go potty?". She'll tell me "No, I just hold it a little longer" and then, eventually, she gets a panicky look and says "I need go peepee RIGHT NOW!" and runs to the bathroom.
We haven't had any pee accidents since Monday, and even then there was only one. She takes her naps in underwear and does fine. I have her wear a diaper at night, because I am the laziest mommy on earth and don't want to set a peepee alarm at 2am and I'm not sure she can manage 8-10 hours of bladder control. Poop is another story altogether, but I'll get to that. Yesterday evening we went to a neighbor's house for an early New Year's eve party, and e-baby used their potty twice (both times against her initial wishes, but she was clearly in discomfort trying to hold it so she could play with the other kids). She is always very proud of herself when she does pee on the pot, even when it means she's had to stop something fun.
But the poop. This paragraph is nasty, so if you're of a delicate sensibility, please skip to the next one right now. She had held her poop for 2 days-- making lots of underleg-music ("It's OK, mommy- I just pooted. It's not a poop. I don't need go poop right now" Oh yeah I believe THAT. Sure. Have I mentioned that my kid can lie like a bearskin rug on a Palin bedroom floor?)-- when she couldn't help herself and pooped a big blob of lead bearings in her underwear at the party. I decided to put my formal education to work, however, and told her that we'd put it into the toilet, so she could see, and then she could sit on the potty to try and poop more on top to make a poop tower (I swear, the thing went "Clink!" when it hit porcelain. I TOLD you this was nasty, it's your own fault for reading it). She was interested in that opportunity, and gave it the old school try. No more poop, but it seemed to mark a turning point.
Today she has been surprisingly interested in going pee, and she even went pee at a public restroom (GASP! ARG!) when she is ordinarily terrified of public restrooms with their noisy, automatic-sensor toilet flushers. I was about as icked out as I could be because, yes, kids ALWAYS grasp the sides of the toilet seat ring. ACK! YUCK! No amount of hand washing sets my mind at ease. Me and Howard Hughes just need our graves side-by-side. Then, when we got home, she pooped in the toilet. For real. On purpose.
So, just when it seemed like she'd never get it, everything just fell into place.
I am sure there will be plenty of setbacks, but we appear to be on the downhill side of the underwear expedition amd for that I'm so glad. Next week it'll be the daycare's problem for 8 hours a day. They are way better at this than I am anyhow.
Now, do you need to go to the potty? Are you sure?
After long consideration, I wouldn't attribute difficulties we've been having to my child being just plain stubborn. That's really not an accurate characterization of her. She definintely has her own mind, and wants things done her way, but she is also surprisingly rational, so usually she'll respond to reason. No, I think any trouble we've had has been related to two things about e-baby. 1- she is a kid who HATES stopping what she's doing to do something different. No matter what she's doing right now, it is, in her mind, the ONLY thing she wants to do. Nothing else can compete (except, as I've mentioned, books-- usually). 2- she is feeling a new sense of power and control with the big-girl underwear, and likes the fact that she can hold it for a long time in spite of my constantly asking "do you need to go potty?". She'll tell me "No, I just hold it a little longer" and then, eventually, she gets a panicky look and says "I need go peepee RIGHT NOW!" and runs to the bathroom.
We haven't had any pee accidents since Monday, and even then there was only one. She takes her naps in underwear and does fine. I have her wear a diaper at night, because I am the laziest mommy on earth and don't want to set a peepee alarm at 2am and I'm not sure she can manage 8-10 hours of bladder control. Poop is another story altogether, but I'll get to that. Yesterday evening we went to a neighbor's house for an early New Year's eve party, and e-baby used their potty twice (both times against her initial wishes, but she was clearly in discomfort trying to hold it so she could play with the other kids). She is always very proud of herself when she does pee on the pot, even when it means she's had to stop something fun.
But the poop. This paragraph is nasty, so if you're of a delicate sensibility, please skip to the next one right now. She had held her poop for 2 days-- making lots of underleg-music ("It's OK, mommy- I just pooted. It's not a poop. I don't need go poop right now" Oh yeah I believe THAT. Sure. Have I mentioned that my kid can lie like a bearskin rug on a Palin bedroom floor?)-- when she couldn't help herself and pooped a big blob of lead bearings in her underwear at the party. I decided to put my formal education to work, however, and told her that we'd put it into the toilet, so she could see, and then she could sit on the potty to try and poop more on top to make a poop tower (I swear, the thing went "Clink!" when it hit porcelain. I TOLD you this was nasty, it's your own fault for reading it). She was interested in that opportunity, and gave it the old school try. No more poop, but it seemed to mark a turning point.
Today she has been surprisingly interested in going pee, and she even went pee at a public restroom (GASP! ARG!) when she is ordinarily terrified of public restrooms with their noisy, automatic-sensor toilet flushers. I was about as icked out as I could be because, yes, kids ALWAYS grasp the sides of the toilet seat ring. ACK! YUCK! No amount of hand washing sets my mind at ease. Me and Howard Hughes just need our graves side-by-side. Then, when we got home, she pooped in the toilet. For real. On purpose.
So, just when it seemed like she'd never get it, everything just fell into place.
I am sure there will be plenty of setbacks, but we appear to be on the downhill side of the underwear expedition amd for that I'm so glad. Next week it'll be the daycare's problem for 8 hours a day. They are way better at this than I am anyhow.
Now, do you need to go to the potty? Are you sure?
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